[ As laid back as Tezcatlipoca seems to be in conversation, he’s really anything but. He’s the kind of person that can’t stand to be idle, always needs some task at hand. He’d had his hands full with the Lostbelt and had a year of pleasant, busy work. Now, here in Kenos? Annoyingly, it was kind of like starting back at zero and without Daybit’s considerable talents to support him. He tries not to think about his Master’s absence, though.
His first task is to figure out whether Meridian or Zenith would be the ones to be blessed with his skill. That meant seeing everything he could of both cities, because they reflected their factions so clearly. He wanted to see their people, their lives and their priorities, to see if they had the drive to achieve what their factions wanted—to survive.
But, to an onlooker? It just looks like casual, idle wandering.
He has a freshly lit cigarette in his lips as he deftly makes his way through the market. Sharp eyes look over everything and everyone here, though that sharp attention is somewhat hidden behind his amber sunglasses. An odd fashion choice in dark Highstorm, of course. A deep voice catches his attention, and he first gives the alley only a glance, but it doesn’t take much of a look at her to get him to stop.
—It’s her eyes, actually. They’re dark enough to catch his notice.
But, when she asks her question, Tezcatlipoca smiles with a little grin. He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a lighter. It’s a Zippo-style one that he gives a little flourish of a twirl around his hand. ]
Sure do. But dunno if it’ll work for your kinda pipe.
[ Genuinely, he doesn’t. But he steps away to the market and towards the alley, taking his cigarette into the opposite hand as he does. ]
no subject
His first task is to figure out whether Meridian or Zenith would be the ones to be blessed with his skill. That meant seeing everything he could of both cities, because they reflected their factions so clearly. He wanted to see their people, their lives and their priorities, to see if they had the drive to achieve what their factions wanted—to survive.
But, to an onlooker? It just looks like casual, idle wandering.
He has a freshly lit cigarette in his lips as he deftly makes his way through the market. Sharp eyes look over everything and everyone here, though that sharp attention is somewhat hidden behind his amber sunglasses. An odd fashion choice in dark Highstorm, of course. A deep voice catches his attention, and he first gives the alley only a glance, but it doesn’t take much of a look at her to get him to stop.
—It’s her eyes, actually. They’re dark enough to catch his notice.
But, when she asks her question, Tezcatlipoca smiles with a little grin. He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a lighter. It’s a Zippo-style one that he gives a little flourish of a twirl around his hand. ]
Sure do. But dunno if it’ll work for your kinda pipe.
[ Genuinely, he doesn’t. But he steps away to the market and towards the alley, taking his cigarette into the opposite hand as he does. ]
If it’ll work, all yours.