Ουπς! Αυτή η εικόνα δεν ακολουθεί τους κανόνες περιεχομένου. Για να συνεχίσεις με την δημοσίευση, παρακαλώ αφαίρεσε την ή ανέβασε διαφορετική εικόνα.
⏤ 𝘬𝘢𝘻
The surrounding Ketterdam feels off despite any part of Kaz's body being exposed besides his face. Nonetheless, even with the layers upon layers of clothing, the air feels different. Almost suffocating. There is an itch Kaz has to refrain from scratching, doing his best not to bring his hand to his neck. The suffocation has now taken itself into too immense pressure.
There had been so much to be going on, Kaz on this rooftop, taking the time and silence to himself causes him to think. And despite his mind being of demented beauty, his thinking does not take the route of his future of heists, but rather his crew. The crew with two new members, his Wraith who is starting to poke into his chest, his sharpshooter who would follow him to the depths of the Earth even if the fear he has is starting to breach the surface of his face...
And his Wonderer.
Her mind... Kaz, at one point, found his mind rather disturbing after a heist gone wrong in the early days. Dara had been there to yell at him to move past it, to not sulk in it, and if he so much as wanted to cry then to cry about the fact that to move on.
Kaz wanted to laugh.
And Kaz never laughs.
That is when his mind... takes a different route. Pekka Rollins. The fingers curled around his cane tighten and if were not for his gloves his knuckles would be seen to be pure white due to the pressure.
The stake Kaz is willing to go. His anger rising to heights he never knew it could rise too... he did. The anger Kaz has for the Black Heretic is anger Kaz found himself ticked to have. Not in any negative emotional sense, and yet... it found him in a shocking manner. The black veins Aleksander Kirigan seems to have imbedded into Dara Leovolt is alarming. The two seem connected... and that is Kaz's worse route of thought.
Dara Leovolt.
His knuckles release some tension.
Glancing off to his side, he finds Dara Leovolt leaning against the side of the entrance to the roof, her back slouching back to lean against the wall. Her hair is back to the beautiful shades of white and... he notices her messing with the tinted veins on her skin. He wonders what goes on in her mind, and, in moments like these, he wishes he could read individuals as emotionally as she could.
When Dara takes a glance to the personality of a person, it affects the way she interacts and reacts to them. Mainly... she sympathizes with them. Kaz can not do such an action. He takes what he has learned and uses it for his impending advantage. That is what it it needed for, to make a dent into his opponent.
He wonders what she wonders.
Dara lifts her hands, the moonlight cascading down her arm and onto her face... and her eyes glow. Kaz, despite not wanting to impose, turns his body just ever so lightly. Dara, still in her slouched posture, conjures up... a butterfly.
