Kol is quiet for a long while after his spiel about magic and curses. He can see the doubt in some of them over it, and he can see the urgency for everything else in others. Again, everyone has made good points, they aren't wrong, they're just...naive. Clueless as to the open-ended, unimaginable possibilities that are sure to be coming their way any time now. This is only the tip of the iceberg and they won't have a single clue what hits them when it does. And honestly, at this particular juncture, Kol can't say he'll feel sorry or in any way bad for them because they were warned, and they just didn't listen. Story of his bloody fucking life. No one ever listens to him and it almost always ends up in hell breaking loose because of it.
It's when the surly bloke that spent the majority of the discussion doing little more than mutter curses under his breath makes the move toward the crates that Kol realizes this is, for all intents and purposes, basically over. They'll all do what they will, whatever that is, be it even distribution or community safekeeping, but... he doesn't have any more dogs in this fight. He's said his piece, given his warnings. If they want to ignore it, that's on them.
He casts a glance over at Jo, jotting notes as she listens to the rest of them. He's not sure if she catches his gaze, but if she does, there's a silent 'I'm out' easily read in his eyes. "You lot do what you want," he says, gesturing to the crates and the tools, "Said what I needed to, and I'm not touching any of it." And until it can be proven somehow that they're safe? He won't be accepting anything from their captors. He casts one last glance around the room before shaking his head and walking out. If he needed any information beyond this point, he'd just ask Jo about it later. She'd stick around until they all dispersed, he's sure of it.
no subject
It's when the surly bloke that spent the majority of the discussion doing little more than mutter curses under his breath makes the move toward the crates that Kol realizes this is, for all intents and purposes, basically over. They'll all do what they will, whatever that is, be it even distribution or community safekeeping, but... he doesn't have any more dogs in this fight. He's said his piece, given his warnings. If they want to ignore it, that's on them.
He casts a glance over at Jo, jotting notes as she listens to the rest of them. He's not sure if she catches his gaze, but if she does, there's a silent 'I'm out' easily read in his eyes. "You lot do what you want," he says, gesturing to the crates and the tools, "Said what I needed to, and I'm not touching any of it." And until it can be proven somehow that they're safe? He won't be accepting anything from their captors. He casts one last glance around the room before shaking his head and walking out. If he needed any information beyond this point, he'd just ask Jo about it later. She'd stick around until they all dispersed, he's sure of it.