[ like that, Rom!! Not that Messmer gives him any answer. Instead, he simply moves ahead with the plan. Leaning down slightly, he wraps both hands around Rom's waist without fanfare, careful not to prick him with a sharp nail, and proceeds to lift him up as if he were nothing more than a long, goth kitten. The strength to throw him is certainly there, as Rom feared, but it's well-tempered, and Messmer's surprisingly gentle as he holds Rom up to his shoulder. If he chooses to step off, Messmer will let him, though he continues holding up one hand near him for him to hold for balance. ]
He can't even remember if he's ever been picked up in his life. Mitsue-san certainly hadn't been the type for that sort of doting. The unfamiliar squeeze of hands around his waist in conjunction with the feeling of casually being lifted ten feet up in the air like an unruly cat sure does make his heart do a little backflip in his chest. To his credit, Rom does a truly remarkable job of acting like he's totally at ease -- standing with steady balance, his breaths calm and his voice level, but ... he is reflexively keeping one hand gripping at Messmer's wrist, squeezing a little tighter than strictly necessary. ]
... what a view! Haha. [ don't look down, don't look down, don't look down ] Ah, let's see. [ A slight shift on his feet, though he's trying very hard to make sure he's not causing Messmer any extra discomfort. ] I think I can see the exit out that way, but ... could you take about two steps to your right, by any chance?
[ That's a pretty strong grip. Maybe he truly is worried that he'll be thrown. The idea that the height is the problem doesn't even occur to Messmer - after all, he lives like this every day? It's normal. And if having a whole person standing on his shoulders is causing him additional pain, he's doing an excellent job of hiding it. The winged serpent that usually spends time near Messmer's shoulder flutters upwards, beginning to coil around one of Rom's ankles. Additional security, perhaps, on account of Rom's nerves...? ]
A view of naught but corn, [ he responds, sounding doubtful, while he moves to the right as instructed. ]
[ He does give a slight jump when he feels the coil of that snakey length around his ankles -- again, a deeply unfamiliar sensation -- and Rom ends up gripping a little more tightly at Messmer's wrist as a result. Inside him are two wolves: his decades of training will him to accept all this with zero reaction, acclimating to the situation with his usual opaque smile; while the small part of him that remains a normal human being can't help balking at all these foreign circumstances.
Ultimately, he ends up remaining perfectly in place save that squeeze at Messmer's wrist, maintaining good balance even during that little shuffle to the right. And once they're in place, he gives a quiet laugh. ]
I can imagine that's the case down there. But I think I can get a better view from here, so -- if you'd please hold still for a moment.
[ Rom goes quiet afterward, though if Messmer listens very carefully, he might hear Rom speaking very softly under his breath -- a monotone pattern of 'left, right, right, left, right, left' as he stares intensely over the walls of the maze.
Yes, he's trying to brute-force memorize a route they can take from where they're standing. ]
[ he does indeed hear the counting; he can also feel poor Rom's heartrate leap up through the leg his winged companion has curled around. The man's not as unflappable as he appears, it seems. The suggestion was made so lightly that Messmer assumed he thought nothing of it; in reality, maybe it was nothing more than a joke that he was too proud to back down from...
Well, too late now. Messmer stands quietly, listening to the sound of the wind in the stalks and Rom's faint mumbling. It's nearly peaceful. ]
... Ease thy nerves. Thou wilt not fall, [ he says after a moment. ] More unruly burdens than thee I have carried.
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See'st thou the path forward?
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is kind of
scary?
He can't even remember if he's ever been picked up in his life. Mitsue-san certainly hadn't been the type for that sort of doting. The unfamiliar squeeze of hands around his waist in conjunction with the feeling of casually being lifted ten feet up in the air like an unruly cat sure does make his heart do a little backflip in his chest. To his credit, Rom does a truly remarkable job of acting like he's totally at ease -- standing with steady balance, his breaths calm and his voice level, but ... he is reflexively keeping one hand gripping at Messmer's wrist, squeezing a little tighter than strictly necessary. ]
... what a view! Haha. [ don't look down, don't look down, don't look down ] Ah, let's see. [ A slight shift on his feet, though he's trying very hard to make sure he's not causing Messmer any extra discomfort. ] I think I can see the exit out that way, but ... could you take about two steps to your right, by any chance?
no subject
A view of naught but corn, [ he responds, sounding doubtful, while he moves to the right as instructed. ]
no subject
Ultimately, he ends up remaining perfectly in place save that squeeze at Messmer's wrist, maintaining good balance even during that little shuffle to the right. And once they're in place, he gives a quiet laugh. ]
I can imagine that's the case down there. But I think I can get a better view from here, so -- if you'd please hold still for a moment.
[ Rom goes quiet afterward, though if Messmer listens very carefully, he might hear Rom speaking very softly under his breath -- a monotone pattern of 'left, right, right, left, right, left' as he stares intensely over the walls of the maze.
Yes, he's trying to brute-force memorize a route they can take from where they're standing. ]
no subject
Well, too late now. Messmer stands quietly, listening to the sound of the wind in the stalks and Rom's faint mumbling. It's nearly peaceful. ]
... Ease thy nerves. Thou wilt not fall, [ he says after a moment. ] More unruly burdens than thee I have carried.