honey, i rose up from the dead. i do it all the time
Oh, he finds her, and immediately there’s a pinch to his brows, his gaze almost hollow as it dances to the book with the hand edged in sharp blades. What? Why? It’s projected to her, mentally, his voice a bit rougher than usual, deeper, biting back the frustration and perhaps what might come across as sore as he cursed himself out the entire trek here, but that’s beside the point. He’s still relatively silent where he stands, if not for the voice that suddenly flickers into Isla’s mind. He’s still dripping wet but he takes a step toward her, metal hand gesturing to the blade handle that sticks out of him.
It’s just me, Isla, you can relax. There isn’t much of the amusement and gentle teasing of the days past, because he’s too far stuck in his head and far too pissed at himself for getting into this situation, and rather than try to deal with it like he usually did – he seeks Isla out, because she’s always done an incredible job when it came to his injuries.
But surely she’d see him, right? Or was he too different with the mask and the clothing to be distinguishable? Truthfully, that’d be preferable, given his line of work from before and during the first war, but he doesn’t feel the need to utter it. Perhaps the metal arm might point more toward who he is, if she can’t quite see it. But, just to ensure that she does recognize him, he pulls the mask from his face, clutching it in a tight grip in the metal hand of his, focusing on her and waiting to see if he registers to her.
He's using THISSSS:
Type: Grey
Mask | When worn by an Ascended, it projects the wearer's voice to nearby Ascended within 10ft.
It’s just me, Isla, you can relax. There isn’t much of the amusement and gentle teasing of the days past, because he’s too far stuck in his head and far too pissed at himself for getting into this situation, and rather than try to deal with it like he usually did – he seeks Isla out, because she’s always done an incredible job when it came to his injuries.
But surely she’d see him, right? Or was he too different with the mask and the clothing to be distinguishable? Truthfully, that’d be preferable, given his line of work from before and during the first war, but he doesn’t feel the need to utter it. Perhaps the metal arm might point more toward who he is, if she can’t quite see it. But, just to ensure that she does recognize him, he pulls the mask from his face, clutching it in a tight grip in the metal hand of his, focusing on her and waiting to see if he registers to her.
He's using THISSSS:
Type: Grey
Mask | When worn by an Ascended, it projects the wearer's voice to nearby Ascended within 10ft.
VARUS
