PETER
A wide blue gaze looked over the dusty shelves and books, Peters breath freezing in his lungs for a stuttered moment as something seemed to hit him. This quiet peace, with someone who’d become a friend just by chance, it was never something he’d dreamed for himself. And yet, he had no idea what he would do without moments like these. The laugh that huffs out of him is softer now, more genuine and almost choked up. ”It’s a good kingdom.” He tries, and utterly fails, to match her voice, too much glee in his own to sound anything close to pompous.
His laughter stops as the conversation grows a touch more serious, though not so serious the curve of his lips fades. He remembers her strange reaction to his magic, the connection between grasped like a lifeline. The feeling is familiar enough that he can’t think badly of her for it, even if it had made him wary the first time. ”I used to uh... to know a little bit. Real know, not... not guess know. But... not here.” He heaves out a soft sigh, then shrugs not letting the loss wrap around him. This is a good conversation. And besides: ”Wasn’t even really... magic Magic, back... before here.”
”I don’t, uh... they don’t come, I just...” Gods, there’s really no easy way to explain this, is there? In lieu of subjecting her to more of his fumbling words, he simply pulls his bag closer to him, opening the flap to reveal a pile of bones. Which promptly begins to move, uncurling from its resting position to step out of the bag properly, trodding over his lap towards her. ”This is... this is Apricum. It... it found me outside. In Longnight. I could also um... probably find more, other bones. If you want.” The offer was tacked on quickly, as if the undead luxere he’d pulled from practically nowhere would somehow be disappointing.
Though, if somehow his companion was lacking, the reaction to his creation more than made up for it. The look on Evie’s face made his chest pound, tears almost threatening to spring to his eyes. He’d felt this before, the last time he’d made something with real thought put in, but it hadn’t affected him quite so sharply. Despite that though, he shakes his head, unable to accept her compliment. ”There’s better things.” He asserts, going to give an example, and then realizing he isn’t actually sure what magic Evie has. Should he ask? Would it be rude? He can’t quite find the words before the crown is on her head, her posing drawing a laugh from him, and chasing the thought away. ”You are, yes. Very um... very beautiful, I mean.”
His laughter stops as the conversation grows a touch more serious, though not so serious the curve of his lips fades. He remembers her strange reaction to his magic, the connection between grasped like a lifeline. The feeling is familiar enough that he can’t think badly of her for it, even if it had made him wary the first time. ”I used to uh... to know a little bit. Real know, not... not guess know. But... not here.” He heaves out a soft sigh, then shrugs not letting the loss wrap around him. This is a good conversation. And besides: ”Wasn’t even really... magic Magic, back... before here.”
”I don’t, uh... they don’t come, I just...” Gods, there’s really no easy way to explain this, is there? In lieu of subjecting her to more of his fumbling words, he simply pulls his bag closer to him, opening the flap to reveal a pile of bones. Which promptly begins to move, uncurling from its resting position to step out of the bag properly, trodding over his lap towards her. ”This is... this is Apricum. It... it found me outside. In Longnight. I could also um... probably find more, other bones. If you want.” The offer was tacked on quickly, as if the undead luxere he’d pulled from practically nowhere would somehow be disappointing.
Though, if somehow his companion was lacking, the reaction to his creation more than made up for it. The look on Evie’s face made his chest pound, tears almost threatening to spring to his eyes. He’d felt this before, the last time he’d made something with real thought put in, but it hadn’t affected him quite so sharply. Despite that though, he shakes his head, unable to accept her compliment. ”There’s better things.” He asserts, going to give an example, and then realizing he isn’t actually sure what magic Evie has. Should he ask? Would it be rude? He can’t quite find the words before the crown is on her head, her posing drawing a laugh from him, and chasing the thought away. ”You are, yes. Very um... very beautiful, I mean.”
and our memories defeat us
and I’ll end this duress
and I’ll end this duress
