Those that touch him may experience metallic taste, nosebleed, nausea, headache, hair loss and/or skin lesions.
Symptoms become worse with prolonged exposure and onset is accelerated when exposed to his blood.
Beqanna
Assailant -- Year 226
"But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura
[private] all the blank spots left a mark
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02-11-2024, 01:46 AM
i can’t stop you putting roots in my dreamland, my house of stone, your ivy grows, and now i’m covered in you For some reason, Allaire cannot sleep tonight. She is not sure what the reason for this restlessness is, but it feels like a nervous flutter in her chest, and racing thoughts that cannot quiet. She hates that she has been here for so long and that it still does not feel like home. She can no longer use the excuse of turmoil, as things have been quiet now for a long while, as if all the storms had finally blown themselves out. Things were, near as she could tell, back to normal — whatever normal for this place is. Finally, she succumbs to the idea that she was going to be awake and set off into the night. Her light follows her movements like a strange veil that trails behind her, but other than that she manages to remain undetected. Or perhaps not undetected, but ignored, at the very least. In this world full of pretty things it is easy for her to blend in, and tonight she doesn't mind that. She is not sure how long she has been walking, only that it does not feel like very long at all. Her thoughts cause the time to pass quickly as she follows the riverbank, occasionally glancing sideways and noticing the way the silver of the stars reflect off the never-ending dark of the water, and the softened glow of her light blurring with them. Momentarily distracted she almost starts at the sudden sound of someone so close, but when she sets her eyes on his face she instantly recognizes him. “Nemeon,” she says with a quiet delight, her voice hushed as if she might speak too loudly and shatter the night. “I wasn’t expecting to see you out here. How are you?” she asks him with a hopeful smile, oblivious to the idea that he might be in a poor mood. Allaire @Nemeon
03-24-2024, 11:53 PM
i can’t stop you putting roots in my dreamland, my house of stone, your ivy grows, and now i’m covered in you Her smile falters a little when she reads between the lines of the words that he says — that he’s had happier nights, meaning that this is not a good one, and things are likely not well. “I’m sorry,” she offers sympathetically, though she is unsure how much right she has to pry any further. While she naturally wants to consider him a friend, she recognizes that they hardly know each other, and that perhaps he does not want to relinquish his troubles to a virtual stranger. She is accustomed to being that, though — a familiar face but not close enough to be a friend. The place to go for a smile or a kind word but not trusted with anything beyond surface level. But it does not stop her from trying. She wants to step closer to him, but there is something that keeps her rooted where she stands, an invisible barrier that she knows she should not push. “Is everything alright?” she ventures to ask, her brow furrowed just slightly with worry. “Maybe I can help,” she offers with a dim kind of hope. She knows she is likely not of much use; she is not especially intelligent or strong, and has no kind of magic that is truly useful. Just a pair of pretty wings and a light that follows her wherever she goes. He diverts the topic to her and she lets him, though she still studies him carefully for what feels like a long moment before answering, “I’ve been fine, I suppose. Just a little…” she trails off, unsure what to say. Lonely didn’t feel right; lonely, to her, implied that she had something to miss, when in reality she didn’t. She had never had anyone or anything, nothing that was a constant. It didn’t feel possible to miss something you’d never had. “...quiet,” is what she settles on, since it is not a lie. Her life is quiet, if not a bit empty. Allaire @Nemeon |
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