Set
The ravage that riots underneath his skin surges and trembles with need. A primal need to lash out, to flay muscle from bone, to lay waste to a soul that is not his to take but still it thirsts. He closes his eyes at the sound of the stranger’s voice, as if the mere motion could leash his demons. His control is tenuous as of late. Starlace’s return had been more of an unsettling reunion rather than the joyous occasion he had anticipated when they’d broken the veil. But … she has not really returned, has she? His skin ripples beneath the black and white of his hide, as if something living were traversing the space between.
The steadying breath he draws is a pitiful, dusty one and the auric eyes that draw ‘round to meet hers are wild and molten, features etched in a scowl. “A bit,” he snaps, ears laid low against his skull. A magician of capricious thought and emotion (though, aren’t they all such?), few lingered long enough to make such observations - let alone mark them out as precisely as she has. It is an experience that he has not known for some time, the unsettling feeling taking up residence in his chest.
Set’s eyes narrow, head tilted to one side as they leave the captivation of her depthless gaze to ascertain the nature of her interlope. Up and over the jut of her cheekbone, down the length of her neck, tickle-tap down her spine … He frowns, catching the purple-black of her eyes again without prodding at her with his magicks. Something ethereal hums in her flesh; it momentarily soothes the edges of his unwarranted fury, the cacophony faded to a dull roar in light of the curious creature. “Who wants to know?” It’s childish and unimaginative, this question that cracks with sarcasm, but in this moment, he cannot bring himself to care.
The steadying breath he draws is a pitiful, dusty one and the auric eyes that draw ‘round to meet hers are wild and molten, features etched in a scowl. “A bit,” he snaps, ears laid low against his skull. A magician of capricious thought and emotion (though, aren’t they all such?), few lingered long enough to make such observations - let alone mark them out as precisely as she has. It is an experience that he has not known for some time, the unsettling feeling taking up residence in his chest.
Set’s eyes narrow, head tilted to one side as they leave the captivation of her depthless gaze to ascertain the nature of her interlope. Up and over the jut of her cheekbone, down the length of her neck, tickle-tap down her spine … He frowns, catching the purple-black of her eyes again without prodding at her with his magicks. Something ethereal hums in her flesh; it momentarily soothes the edges of his unwarranted fury, the cacophony faded to a dull roar in light of the curious creature. “Who wants to know?” It’s childish and unimaginative, this question that cracks with sarcasm, but in this moment, he cannot bring himself to care.
@[Islas]