The head it summoned appears distressed, plaintive. I slow my stride to a halt, keeping the smirk from my face before turning my head to look back passively. No discernable shapes form this time, but I have gotten what I wanted. Its anxiousness is clear, and the clouds around shift once more. If I go so far as to acknowledge their existence, but show I am a busy man, then. As controlled as its face has been, this Isolde has taken outwardly compassionate and somewhat timid actions. No matter how much distance my feet carry me, however, the clouds do not seem to get any closer. A moment after I enter a sudden, if slight, bow, “I am thankful for your assistance, but I will be leaving now.” I then pull myself up and immediately turn away, walking with a confident stride toward the smoke surrounding me. “I see,” I reply, keeping my tone professional. Hard to verify the truth in its words, isolated as I am. With Viego.” It speaks the last few words with no small amount of wariness. It has been only a few minutes since your. “Before I could tend to your arm, I had to rekindle your awareness. “Not for long.” Its face and lips move in a very natural way as it speaks, emulating a talking face with expert precision. The shadows do not answer me here, if there are any shadows here at all. I attempt to manipulate shadow as subtly as I can, attempt the slightest of changes to the “floor” here. I far prefer to be on my feet rather than floating, and magical Illusions are nothing new. It looks like I am standing on nothing, but I do not question it.
#Mind meld runeterra full#
My feet find solid ground, or the closest thing to it while I am here, and I stand at my full height. Then, I look toward the face before continuing. “Very well, Isolde it is.” I speak neutrally, noting that the clouds around do not shift with me neutral words.
And this thing is clearly more in control of this place than I. Certainly not while the mentioned aide is housed within my arm. I am not so foolish as to drop my guard simply due to some medical aide and a conjured female visage. When accompanied by displays of emotion that is, meaning I must maintain my composure to not let this thing see any more than it already has. And words, or its words at least, are able to shift this space. I can’t use my shadow techniques here, most likely I will have to rely on my words alone. While Viego’s mist seems to take to the form of tendrils most naturally, this blue mist seems to prefer cloud-like shapes. One built and furnished with plain woods and filled with the items of a seamstress, before they regained their blue hue and turned back into formless clouds. The mist momentarily morphed, for a fraction of a second, into the faint resemblance of a simple room. The clouds of blue mist around me start to gray and deflate, and it is only through my sharp attention that I manage to catch the faint imagery it morphs into.
It speaks its name with a weighty somberness, one that seems to quite literally spread throughout the space I currently inhabit.
0 kommentar(er)
