Flowers for a ghost // open+visiting

[coldblue]

[align=center][div style="max-width: 600px; text-align: justify; font-family: georgia; font-size: 10pt;"][color=black]The young boy falls silent. At first, he bites back a hiss in Caesar's direction, next he is listening in awe as Goldie stand up for herself and Pincher. It is difficult to get a word in edgewise as events begin to unfurl, descending into chaos from the clash between emotion and pragmatism. Roxanne attacks. Jacob lashes out next. There is a lot going on and Coldblue struggles to follow everything, unable to speak or react fast enough before something else arises. Until Caesar has the audacity to personally insult his sister, that is. Mistake. A big mistake. Blue does not care about much, is unfazed by most things, but he draws the line at his family.

"You're the one who fuckin' cried over this fucker's death. What does that say about you? you're weak. You'd think somebody who the child of the god damn leader would have more control over their emotions, but apparently not. Grow the fuck up."

Coldblue's blood boils. Literally. "You're awfully confident in your power for being the least liked person, well, everywhere." he hisses, stepping forward to place his body between Caesar and Goldie. Not because he thinks the antagonizing male is stupid enough to make the mistake of touching his sister, but to redirect the attention to himself and away from his sibling. Blue doesn't mind being called names or being put down for being useless because—hey—he's never been useful in his life. But not Goldie. Goldie does not deserve being called weak for feeling emotions. She does not need to be told to "grow up". "Our father could have gotten help from a number of people, but he chose not to—" The bastard. "—so it is not my sister's fault, and I suggest you think long and hard before you deign to insult her again." Unlike the others, Blue's voice is not at all passionate. It is cold. Frozen. He burns with hatred, but it is not flames, but ice.

He sneers at the demon, frigid blue eyes narrowing to malicious slits. Blue is young, but his body is nearly fully grown, which means he is the same height as Caesar. Sharp ivory teeth shine in light as a bitter smirk tugs paints his handsome visage. "Are you seriously lecturing us about listening?" Caesar only hears what he wants, fills his head with the idea that he is better than everyone else when it is very obvious that he will get nowhere because he does not have the support of the people he claims to lead. "You don't give anyone orders. Especially not me or my family—" Coldblue is a Roux, the captain's son. He might as well be a prince. This heartless yellow jerk holds no power over him. "I don't know why my father promoted you in the first place, but I can tell you now that you neither have the support of the crew or our allies. Now get out of here before there's a mutiny." That's right, two can play that game. Caesar is arrogant, but so is Blue. And Blue isn't enemy number one.

The adolescent pointedly glances down at Caesar's wounds with a haughty smirk, lingering on the satisfying trickle of inky black blood. "You might want to ice that."