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--- character:keith-sirius [2013/06/29 16:16] – Grammar pinkgothic
+++ character:keith-sirius [2017/11/18 21:34] (current) – external edit 127.0.0.1
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 ===== Appearance =====
-{{ :character:keith.png?nolink|}}
+{{ :character:keith_sirius.png?direct&250|}}
 Suiting his fiery theme, Keith's hair has flame-like qualities both in style and in colour (auburn), just shy of short and intentionally chaotic in design - but very intentionally and precisely shaped and gelled firmly into place. Keith is //rather// specific about his hairdo and spends more time with it that he'd admit without specific prompt. As such, someone deliberately ruining it could potentially be one of the few things to punch through his sunny composure simply for the invested time that it rudely undoes (and significantly less for actual vanity reasons), though so far, that's never occurred.
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 Keith gestures with his right hand, evidently not bothered, only to shift his attention back to Dakarai. His right hand slides into his pocket, searching for a badge... only to slide back out without one. "What do you know, fresh out of badges," he mutters, giving an eyeroll. It serves to widen Dakarai's eyes, which Keith catches in time to pre-empt a question. "I've more back home, it's just inconvenient." A grimace. "Sorry."
+Collected from [[plot:Reshigah]]:
+"Oh!" Keith regards the hand with a perplexed expression, not quite sure which of his two hands to reassign to the task, left still quite happy to pet his psychic visitor, right still holding his household implement. For a moment, he presses his lips to a thin line across the tip of his tongue, then throws a glance to the broom. His hand shifts its grip into one with two fingers, then tips the broom over theatrically - it clonks to the ground as it's discarded, and his right hand instead enthusiastically closes around Terry's proffered one. "Jagdish said you were coming," he comments with a tone of delight. "You're the aspiring gym leader, is that right?"
+"That's fantastic," Keith comments, only to cast his glance upwards ineffectively toward Raichu. "Raichu, honey," he addresses the pokémon. "I need my hair now." The Raichu gives a soft sound that could be interpreted as a displeased snort, but does leap from its perch on its human's scalp, tail lashing through the air like a whip for an instant. With natural grace, it holds itself still at a distance, looking as if coiled, ready for an attack.
+"Mew," Keith addresses the psychic pokémon. "Do we let him do that? Just water? Or is that breaking some unspoken social protocol? What do you say?" His voice is thickly lathered with a humourous tone.
+"I'm sure you'll do fine," Keith adds with an apologetic chuckle, unwrapping one hand from his glass and giving Terry a friendly pat on one shoulder, gentle in the motion as his guest has another sip, a little more generous this time. It's at that point that Keith's gaze lingers on the glass, not quite managing to free itself from its self-imposed anchor, assessing the amount and a slew of other variables, frankly simply trying to figure out how quickly he's going to have to react if he doesn't want the rest of it spilling all over his carpet.
+"It's dawning on you now, isn't it?" Keith comments, voice just a fraction elevated above a whisper, thick with an alien, predatory flavour of concern, gaze having swept back up to find Terry's face, trying to catch his gaze, the Kzye gym leader's posture angling itself slightly. As if in afterthought, he sets his own glass on the table, only to ease both hands forward to his not yet altogether artificially paralysed victim, wrapping his left hand oh so gently around Terry's, tip of his right hand's fingers touching against the bottom of the glass in additional support, ensuring it doesn't simply drop quite suddenly. "Careful with that," he adds, sunny smile morphed into one of mischief.
 {{tag>[complete]}}