[ He couldn't explain what the difference is between a kiss on the lips and a kiss on the cheek if pressed. That is to say, the difference when it comes to a romantic partner, someone you've already been intimate with, someone you're starting to get wrapped up in. The lips are normal, they're sweet and soft affirmations, or they're hard statements, or they're searching lust. A deliberate kiss to the cheek is... it's something else. It speaks to something more than just familiarity, and it leaves a lingering burn behind when he pulls back.
All that good is quickly replaced by concern, though, at the sight of his shaky limbs. At how much it seems to take him to get upright. The thought of him pulling that lever, the thought of anything else springing on him - especially right now... He can't. Can't let that happen.
The second plan is better, but Mace isn't in a great condition to start fucking digging. ]
Hey, put your clothes on. Get warm. I'll get it started.
[ And he'll get it finished, too - hopefully without argument by turning to oh-so-casually head on over to the gate with his wrists glowing.
Dig under the grate. Should be easy enough - just a couple feet in diameter, and he thinks the portcullis didn't dig that deeply into the ground. That's if he's remembering right, the entire thing had been through water and chaos.
He'll find out once he makes it over there and gets the chance to dig his shovel into soft, wet soil.
He works with his hands too, man. He's plenty built to dig and lift, even if a few days with a fucked up abdomen kept him from pitching in on the manual labor as much as he'd like. Shouldn't be a precedent, though. Shouldn't pigeonhole Mace into the role of doing all the heavy lifting. ]
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All that good is quickly replaced by concern, though, at the sight of his shaky limbs. At how much it seems to take him to get upright. The thought of him pulling that lever, the thought of anything else springing on him - especially right now... He can't. Can't let that happen.
The second plan is better, but Mace isn't in a great condition to start fucking digging. ]
Hey, put your clothes on. Get warm. I'll get it started.
[ And he'll get it finished, too - hopefully without argument by turning to oh-so-casually head on over to the gate with his wrists glowing.
Dig under the grate. Should be easy enough - just a couple feet in diameter, and he thinks the portcullis didn't dig that deeply into the ground. That's if he's remembering right, the entire thing had been through water and chaos.
He'll find out once he makes it over there and gets the chance to dig his shovel into soft, wet soil.
He works with his hands too, man. He's plenty built to dig and lift, even if a few days with a fucked up abdomen kept him from pitching in on the manual labor as much as he'd like. Shouldn't be a precedent, though. Shouldn't pigeonhole Mace into the role of doing all the heavy lifting. ]