04-26-2018, 09:10 AM
Modicum Mortem is over listening to these diplomats speak. He moves, out into the dim light that shines through the trees, the bulb on his nose glimmering. He doesn’t care (he’d never cared), he finds that the orb suits him, who he is inside.
“I am Mortem, the King of Sylva,” he states simply to the strangers. He glances to Jesper, the slightest hint of a smile gracing his dark lips. “I’m sorry to interrupt-“ (He wasn’t) “-But I need to take Lepis now.” (He didn’t) “I’m sure this conversation could wait for another time?” (He wouldn’t have this conversation again) Eyes glance to Lepis as he leads her away, abandoning the two Ischians where they stood.
Wrapping this up for plot purposes
“I am Mortem, the King of Sylva,” he states simply to the strangers. He glances to Jesper, the slightest hint of a smile gracing his dark lips. “I’m sorry to interrupt-“ (He wasn’t) “-But I need to take Lepis now.” (He didn’t) “I’m sure this conversation could wait for another time?” (He wouldn’t have this conversation again) Eyes glance to Lepis as he leads her away, abandoning the two Ischians where they stood.
Wrapping this up for plot purposes
|Proceed with Caution|