[ Howl knew she was about to do something as soon as she gave him that look. The thrown bottle is telegraphed and easily avoided, but the red wine is not. As glass clatters against the back wall behind them, Howl squints open his eyes and looks down at himself — splattered and speckled from head to toe with wine.
Well then. A simple "get out" would have sufficed, but hey, maybe she really needed to throw a bottle of wine at someone today. Still notably unfazed, Howl brings his hands up to his face and slowly pulls them back, drawing the liquid away from his skin to form a small ball of wine above his left palm. He uses his other hand to begin doing the same for the wine soaking into his tunic.
Howl says nothing during all this, but he does turn to M, as if to say: well, demon? Time to put that silver tongue to use. ]
no subject
Well then. A simple "get out" would have sufficed, but hey, maybe she really needed to throw a bottle of wine at someone today. Still notably unfazed, Howl brings his hands up to his face and slowly pulls them back, drawing the liquid away from his skin to form a small ball of wine above his left palm. He uses his other hand to begin doing the same for the wine soaking into his tunic.
Howl says nothing during all this, but he does turn to M, as if to say: well, demon? Time to put that silver tongue to use. ]