caught off guard, lucanis glances toward the stack of supplies. they do, indeed, appear to be in need of delivering. and he was more than capable of doing so, but he had expected something more than a casual assignment of duty. was she truly upset with him, for not coming to minrathous' aid? did he really have a choice in the matter, given treviso had no standing army? and rook... rook, who could never abandon treviso, and who lucanis knew was carrying the weight of minrathous on their shoulders. what if neve never wanted to come back?
the brief train of thought is derailed by spite, who has gotten better at seamlessly taking control of lucanis' tongue. and, apparently, better at taking advantage of the very rare moments where lucanis' ironclad control slips in favor of getting lost in his own thoughts. ]
Did not come here for. Arctus! Came here for -- Neve. [ but just as soon as the demon's words slide from his lips, lucanis grits his teeth, uttering an irritated: ] Dios me ayude, would you shut --
[ it was then that lucanis noticed one of the (presumed) shadow dragons watching him a bit warily as they picked up said medical supplies, tossing a slight nod to neve on their way past. an acceptance of the duty, or a warning that a new crazy person was now in her midst. either way, an incompetent first start in this ridiculous attempt to take care of someone he cares about. great.
the crow inhales swiftly (get a grip.no. you get a grip.) before gently taking neve by the arm, tugging it slightly. an attempt to get her to look at him. ]
Neve? [ let's try this again, with a better look at her face. the circles underneath her eyes, the streak of dust across her cheek. she doesn't appear hurt or injured, and thankfully, no sight of blight. just exhausted, worn thin, and on edge. in desperate need of a soft bed and a good meal. and, perhaps, a thicker coat -- it was colder underground than it was in the city above. ] Where are you staying, here?
[ starting with a private corner would probably be better than the middle of a supply closet. ]
no subject
caught off guard, lucanis glances toward the stack of supplies. they do, indeed, appear to be in need of delivering. and he was more than capable of doing so, but he had expected something more than a casual assignment of duty. was she truly upset with him, for not coming to minrathous' aid? did he really have a choice in the matter, given treviso had no standing army? and rook... rook, who could never abandon treviso, and who lucanis knew was carrying the weight of minrathous on their shoulders. what if neve never wanted to come back?
the brief train of thought is derailed by spite, who has gotten better at seamlessly taking control of lucanis' tongue. and, apparently, better at taking advantage of the very rare moments where lucanis' ironclad control slips in favor of getting lost in his own thoughts. ]
Did not come here for. Arctus! Came here for -- Neve. [ but just as soon as the demon's words slide from his lips, lucanis grits his teeth, uttering an irritated: ] Dios me ayude, would you shut --
[ it was then that lucanis noticed one of the (presumed) shadow dragons watching him a bit warily as they picked up said medical supplies, tossing a slight nod to neve on their way past. an acceptance of the duty, or a warning that a new crazy person was now in her midst. either way, an incompetent first start in this ridiculous attempt to take care of someone he cares about. great.
the crow inhales swiftly (get a grip. no. you get a grip.) before gently taking neve by the arm, tugging it slightly. an attempt to get her to look at him. ]
Neve? [ let's try this again, with a better look at her face. the circles underneath her eyes, the streak of dust across her cheek. she doesn't appear hurt or injured, and thankfully, no sight of blight. just exhausted, worn thin, and on edge. in desperate need of a soft bed and a good meal. and, perhaps, a thicker coat -- it was colder underground than it was in the city above. ] Where are you staying, here?
[ starting with a private corner would probably be better than the middle of a supply closet. ]