[Talk of the execution should be the worst Louis has to suffer in his company, for the moment. Michael's mind is harder to scrape than most. He's more non-corporeal grace than the body in front of Louis, his consciousness not based in the brain it holds and more well-guarded than the average.
He does deign to catch the ball, because even Michael is not quite enough of an asshole to dodge or bat it aside. The toss is an overture as much as approaching and continuing the conversation is on Louis' part. The man is trying to make a point about the ball, anyway. Michael gives it a squeeze between his hands, feels the resistance and give. It's less reminiscent of a head when he's holding it—there's no sense of rigidity underneath, no hard skull beneath the rubbery outer layer. It's not particularly heavy to the type of supernatural entity that he is and that Louis is still wondering about, either.
Michael's not sure that the Solvunn locals follow the same process that Louis describes, but he gives a nod of understanding. Humanity always did have a way of finding interesting new uses for his Father's work.]
Neither was I. My family had little time for leisure. [All work and no play makes one a good angel. He looks up from his examination of the ball.] Though I do believe this game is generally played with the ball on the ground.
[He drops it, then steadies it with a foot to keep it from bouncing away. Adam had played sports, at least. There are muscle memories he can rely on. Michael gives it a light tap, sending it back towards Louis.]
no subject
[Talk of the execution should be the worst Louis has to suffer in his company, for the moment. Michael's mind is harder to scrape than most. He's more non-corporeal grace than the body in front of Louis, his consciousness not based in the brain it holds and more well-guarded than the average.
He does deign to catch the ball, because even Michael is not quite enough of an asshole to dodge or bat it aside. The toss is an overture as much as approaching and continuing the conversation is on Louis' part. The man is trying to make a point about the ball, anyway. Michael gives it a squeeze between his hands, feels the resistance and give. It's less reminiscent of a head when he's holding it—there's no sense of rigidity underneath, no hard skull beneath the rubbery outer layer. It's not particularly heavy to the type of supernatural entity that he is and that Louis is still wondering about, either.
Michael's not sure that the Solvunn locals follow the same process that Louis describes, but he gives a nod of understanding. Humanity always did have a way of finding interesting new uses for his Father's work.]
Neither was I. My family had little time for leisure. [All work and no play makes one a good angel. He looks up from his examination of the ball.] Though I do believe this game is generally played with the ball on the ground.
[He drops it, then steadies it with a foot to keep it from bouncing away. Adam had played sports, at least. There are muscle memories he can rely on. Michael gives it a light tap, sending it back towards Louis.]