HE MOTIONED ME TO THE SKY,
There’s a moment, as Marisol seems to consider her offering, that she realizes she could really be in trouble here, because Vespera knows how the ever-uptight commander might react to her cadets getting drunk the night before training. If pressed, she can probably pass it off as a training-related activity -- after all, throwing darts while impaired could possibly come in handy in a battle situation, right?
Definitely. They’re totally in the clear.
Even so, she relaxes when Marisol extends her acceptance of the invitation, an easy, warm smile coming to her lips. Her telekinesis is only slightly shaky when she hovers her own shot over, easily excused by the fact she’s already slightly inebriated and still not entirely sure in her ability with the minor magic. It burns her throat as she gulps it down, bringing a bright flush to her cheeks that shows easily beneath the pale skin, and that leonine tail curls up slightly at the tip before straightening out once more.
“S’nice to see you… y’know. When you’re not trying to beat the crap out of me.” Her words are light and teasing, tone roughened (and tongue loosened) by the alcohol flowing so freely. They’re standing close enough in the crowded, rowdy bar that their guard feathers are nearly touching, surrounded by rowdy cadets enjoying the night on the town, and she’s perfectly in her element here.
Not that she minded the training, so much -- every single bruise was just a testement to lessons she was learning in her quest to become a pilot. Not to mention that, while Marisol was far out of her league (and completely forbidden to touch, in her mind) -- well, the commander was hot when she was all worked up, when they'd been tussling and neither wanted to give in.
I HEARD HEAVEN & THE THUNDER CRY.
