12-15-2019, 01:16 PM
[align=center][div style="text-align:justify;width:55%;font-family:verdana;"]He hasn't been to a party - a good party - in a long time. He's kept himself carefully contained up to this point, his mannerisms practiced, his natural smile hardened to a firm line across his face; he was cultivating an image of respectability, at least until it was safe to loosen up his guard. But now, with Leroy's voice ringing out through the center of town, he finally decided that this night's indulgence (a rare event, but always a devout practice) was well-earned.
The room is warm compared to the stinging winds that tunneled through the town square. Kaz has taken to using his neck scarf as a means to keep his nose warm, head tucked low into the folded silk; when he steps inside the tavern, though, he pauses to adjust the tie and smooth his ascot down his chest again. There's more than the fire's warmth permeating the room - a sense of camaraderie swells in the air, a ragtag family held together loosely at the seams by an equally mismatched leader. He takes note, studies the atmosphere a little. Leroy is skilled at maintaining morale, if anything.
But Kaz realizes quickly that his mind is still set on work, and while he wants to be able to flick a switch and turn that mindset off just for one night, it usually takes a little more effort to hit the brakes. He's kind of shameless, nonchalant as he makes a beeline for the bar, hardly pausing to nod his acknowledgement to the General before he sidles behind the counter to find something harder than cider and hot cocoa. It's only after he knocks back a drink that he makes his way back to the throng of activity, mostly centered near the broad hearth. He had yet to notice the presents under the tree (much less Crowley slithering passive-aggressively among them, sulking as he would).
"It's a nice party," Kaz comments, because the majority of his thoughts have already been spoken. The food does smell great, the atmosphere is wonderful, the tavern renovation went over perfectly - all things Leroy probably knows, and probably doesn't need to hear for the twentieth time that evening.
The cheetah sits back by the fire, waits for his drink to kick in. (He'd make a party of this, yet.)
The room is warm compared to the stinging winds that tunneled through the town square. Kaz has taken to using his neck scarf as a means to keep his nose warm, head tucked low into the folded silk; when he steps inside the tavern, though, he pauses to adjust the tie and smooth his ascot down his chest again. There's more than the fire's warmth permeating the room - a sense of camaraderie swells in the air, a ragtag family held together loosely at the seams by an equally mismatched leader. He takes note, studies the atmosphere a little. Leroy is skilled at maintaining morale, if anything.
But Kaz realizes quickly that his mind is still set on work, and while he wants to be able to flick a switch and turn that mindset off just for one night, it usually takes a little more effort to hit the brakes. He's kind of shameless, nonchalant as he makes a beeline for the bar, hardly pausing to nod his acknowledgement to the General before he sidles behind the counter to find something harder than cider and hot cocoa. It's only after he knocks back a drink that he makes his way back to the throng of activity, mostly centered near the broad hearth. He had yet to notice the presents under the tree (much less Crowley slithering passive-aggressively among them, sulking as he would).
"It's a nice party," Kaz comments, because the majority of his thoughts have already been spoken. The food does smell great, the atmosphere is wonderful, the tavern renovation went over perfectly - all things Leroy probably knows, and probably doesn't need to hear for the twentieth time that evening.
The cheetah sits back by the fire, waits for his drink to kick in. (He'd make a party of this, yet.)
[align=center][div style="font-size:12pt;font-family:verdana;color:#4c5461;letter-spacing:-2pt;"][i][b]—-— I GET [color=#4c5461]MEAN WHEN I'M
NERVOUS, LIKE A BAD DOG
NERVOUS, LIKE A BAD DOG