[Tate snorts at the comment, because saying 'no I like it' is also a social faux-pas. He just shakes his sleeve a little as he drops his hand back down to his side, and gets distracted again with the snow. He still feels so fucking happily buzzed, caught up in this literally magical whirlwind. Go fucking figure.]
Uh... pull a rabbit out of a hat? I don't fucking know.
no subject
Uh... pull a rabbit out of a hat? I don't fucking know.
[A challenge? Tate scowls, trying to think.]
Can you change how you look?