[dabi's left hand hangs freely at his side, the other one nestled at home in the opposite pocket. a black brow arches at maul's answer. coming from a man who looks like he wouldn't have a clue what that food is, it's amusing.]
Ain't even from Earth and ya still figure out a way to find pizza.
[which makes him wonder if maul found a food like that on another world back in his world or if he encountered the dish here. likely the latter, due to the number of people from an "earth" world are in the place.]
Oy. About what I said earlier.
[dabi's eyes linger on the sand in front of them, stretching out towards the curving shores. keeping pace beside maul also gives him an easy time of merely draping an arm around the zabrak's shoulder and nape, not caring that he's suddenly invading the other man's space.
*FWOOM*
like the the sudden flare of a match struck, dabi combusts in a massive explosion of blue flames. the dark beach washes with lurid azure light, sand instantly melting around the villain's foot. its sheer heat is far greater than a normal yellow or orange flame. pointedly, dabi keeps the blaze only flaring off his body on the side opposite maul. but the hand flopped around the man's shoulder simultaneously pours out a stream of the same blue flames, crashing into the ground a few feet in front of the alien male. less than a second is all it takes for that fire to ring around them, trapping the pair in a raging circular inferno. molten beachglass pops nearby, boiling as the villain leans his half-burning face closer to maul's, his proximity already threatening to turn the metal of the zabrak's prosthetic legs and lightsaber hilt into scorching temperatures. fire licks at his fingertips, hovering an inch away from the man's black-clothed shoulder.]
Ya really are too soft.
[perhaps his words are ironic, since dabi himself isn't trying (hard) to turn maul to ash, despite the flames and heat drying out the eye fluid. but the hellish encapsulation carries a similar threat. it'd be nothing to ignite the yoke-of-an-arm around maul's neck, blow fire out the side closest to the sith, or even bring the ring of fire slamming shut into them. dabi's not a man who cares about setting himself on fire to make sure he kills someone. and he doesn't take too kindly to being threatened. sure, he puts up with it easily enough, but if maul thought he'd get away without dabi getting even, that's something he'll have to learn the almost-hard way.
dabi had almost given in to the temptation to merely blast maul right in the back without warning. and hell it'd been tempting. but it's too bad he actually kind of thinks their working relationship is worth the threat rather than a full-blown backstab.]
no subject
Ain't even from Earth and ya still figure out a way to find pizza.
[which makes him wonder if maul found a food like that on another world back in his world or if he encountered the dish here. likely the latter, due to the number of people from an "earth" world are in the place.]
Oy. About what I said earlier.
[dabi's eyes linger on the sand in front of them, stretching out towards the curving shores. keeping pace beside maul also gives him an easy time of merely draping an arm around the zabrak's shoulder and nape, not caring that he's suddenly invading the other man's space.
*FWOOM*
like the the sudden flare of a match struck, dabi combusts in a massive explosion of blue flames. the dark beach washes with lurid azure light, sand instantly melting around the villain's foot. its sheer heat is far greater than a normal yellow or orange flame. pointedly, dabi keeps the blaze only flaring off his body on the side opposite maul. but the hand flopped around the man's shoulder simultaneously pours out a stream of the same blue flames, crashing into the ground a few feet in front of the alien male. less than a second is all it takes for that fire to ring around them, trapping the pair in a raging circular inferno. molten beachglass pops nearby, boiling as the villain leans his half-burning face closer to maul's, his proximity already threatening to turn the metal of the zabrak's prosthetic legs and lightsaber hilt into scorching temperatures. fire licks at his fingertips, hovering an inch away from the man's black-clothed shoulder.]
Ya really are too soft.
[perhaps his words are ironic, since dabi himself isn't trying (hard) to turn maul to ash, despite the flames and heat drying out the eye fluid. but the hellish encapsulation carries a similar threat. it'd be nothing to ignite the yoke-of-an-arm around maul's neck, blow fire out the side closest to the sith, or even bring the ring of fire slamming shut into them. dabi's not a man who cares about setting himself on fire to make sure he kills someone. and he doesn't take too kindly to being threatened. sure, he puts up with it easily enough, but if maul thought he'd get away without dabi getting even, that's something he'll have to learn the almost-hard way.
dabi had almost given in to the temptation to merely blast maul right in the back without warning. and hell it'd been tempting. but it's too bad he actually kind of thinks their working relationship is worth the threat rather than a full-blown backstab.]