these violent delights
The mere existence of light meeting with battered retinas was shocking in and of itself, the man blinked a few times to clear the blurriness from his vision. Was it over? Perhaps he had paid his price for whatever ill deeds had cursed him. Was he dead? Somehow he expected the spirit realm to involve more debauchery, though if the Ancients insisted on reincarnating the afterlife couldn't be that great.. right? Shaking his shaggy coat out, no crystals seemed to be offering any resistance to his movement. There was the strange kind of intangible fogginess at the edges of his awareness that made him feel as though he had simply fallen asleep, drifted into an eerie dream realm. Perhaps that was merely the result of suddenly having his vision returned. Breathing a deep sigh of relief, the titan found himself glancing about. The fireflies persisted, even here. Standing in a fathomless mist, unable to get his bearings beyond the fact that he was standing on solid ground, he felt impossibly alone. Those spectral blue lights coalesced into a dancing pathway, hovering just above his head and beckoning him to get a move on. Heavy steps drew him along the gently glowing, winding trail of lights overhead. As the heavy fog parted before him, he found himself once again staring at the eerie cloaked figure hawking his wares. Tipping his heavy, horned skull to one side, he narrowed his eyes lightly at the strange figure. Ruby rimmed auds perked to listen to the cloaked swarm sternly murmur his pitch, the flickering lights of his eyes moving unsettlingly in opposing rhythm under the hood of his cloak. Another lumbering stride closer, and the titan was peering down at the little wooden table with its display. He paused to stare up at the tall figure, all shadows and twinkling firefly bodies dancing in and out of the sleeves of his cloak. "Good to see you again," he rumbled quietly, mostly borne of respect for the ephemeral spirit that had been apparating all across the lands to dole out favours and curses alike. No point invoking his ire right now, since he was suddenly freed from the prison his body had become. Whiskey gold gaze drifted back down to the table. Potions and.. a little jar whose contents swirled like the very mist around them now. He couldn't see what was inside. It called to him. "Whatever it is, I want that. What are you asking in exchange?" he asked as he lifted one ash cloaked forepaw to point out the strange little glass jar. speech |
NONE OF THIS REFLECTS HOW VIRGIL FEELS ABOUT YOU OR YOUR CHARACTER, PROMISE!