[things move very quickly -- almost too quick to follow -- and Lucina is at a loss for words. she knows she ought to spit out an apology or something for her ignorance? but that moment passes by real fast when the little pincer-head appears and gives her a shock.
before she can comment on that, Guzma's gone into damage control which...involved a lot more than just returning the poor monster into its ball? oh. okay. Lucina's eyes wince as the door slams. that's going to be awkward later, isn't it.
it seems the more worked up Guzma gets, the more sober Lucina becomes to balance it. for all the good that does, since she just stands there, letting him put Masquerain away and drop the ball back into the pocket. really, all the "good" there is in being more lucid is feeling rather silly about the string of events that's led up to now, and maybe that's not so good.
still, she doesn't waste too much time in shedding the robe, turning around to hang it up and lock the deadbolt on the door (you know, just in case his kicking broke the actual lock...). her skin prickles, hearing the frustration in his breathing behind her, knowing why and what for, and that helps keep her from getting caught up in all the hijinks. that can wait; he needs her right now.
already slipping one of her swimsuit's straps off her shoulder and freeing her arm, she turns and quickly closes the distance between them, hopping up from her toes so she can catch his mouth.]
no subject
before she can comment on that, Guzma's gone into damage control which...involved a lot more than just returning the poor monster into its ball? oh. okay. Lucina's eyes wince as the door slams. that's going to be awkward later, isn't it.
it seems the more worked up Guzma gets, the more sober Lucina becomes to balance it. for all the good that does, since she just stands there, letting him put Masquerain away and drop the ball back into the pocket. really, all the "good" there is in being more lucid is feeling rather silly about the string of events that's led up to now, and maybe that's not so good.
still, she doesn't waste too much time in shedding the robe, turning around to hang it up and lock the deadbolt on the door (you know, just in case his kicking broke the actual lock...). her skin prickles, hearing the frustration in his breathing behind her, knowing why and what for, and that helps keep her from getting caught up in all the hijinks. that can wait; he needs her right now.
already slipping one of her swimsuit's straps off her shoulder and freeing her arm, she turns and quickly closes the distance between them, hopping up from her toes so she can catch his mouth.]