Now now, Felix, none of those negative thoughts were necessary. When he tells Harrowheart that he helped civilians, Harrowheart accepts it with a serious nod and a grateful sort of smile. "That was real good of you," he says, "Helpin' out folks who couldn't help themselves. Civilians never know what to do in a battle like that. They scramble all over, and then certain bad folks have a real fun time chasin' 'em down and catchin' 'em." He chuckles quietly like that's some kind of joke. And maybe it is, to him, because he's got a strange sort of distant, knowing look on his face.
He sobers quickly and leans in when Felix's voice lowers. "Reforged," Harrowheart whispers back, "As in forged again."
Rather than tell, he might as well show. He reaches onto his back and draws his weapon from its scabbard. When it's exposed to the world once again it sighs, a hushed and drawn-out breathy sound that... No, it must have been the blade scraping against the leather. Right?
He holds it flat in his palms in front of Felix to show off the way the eyes of the skull are fiercely blazing to bright blue life. Around Felix the blade knows it doesn't have to be shy, and so it makes no pretense to hide the river of souls that flow between its two prongs. Now and then the vague shape of a wailing face pierces through the blue stream, but their suffering is always short-lived, as the flow never ceases.
"I don't know if the binding's still in place," Harrowheart admits. "It ain't been long that they've been like this. I really haven't had time to put 'em down. Do you think you can tell if it's still in place? Or will I have to find out the hard way?"
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2017-06-27 01:31 pm (UTC)He sobers quickly and leans in when Felix's voice lowers. "Reforged," Harrowheart whispers back, "As in forged again."
Rather than tell, he might as well show. He reaches onto his back and draws his weapon from its scabbard. When it's exposed to the world once again it sighs, a hushed and drawn-out breathy sound that... No, it must have been the blade scraping against the leather. Right?
He holds it flat in his palms in front of Felix to show off the way the eyes of the skull are fiercely blazing to bright blue life. Around Felix the blade knows it doesn't have to be shy, and so it makes no pretense to hide the river of souls that flow between its two prongs. Now and then the vague shape of a wailing face pierces through the blue stream, but their suffering is always short-lived, as the flow never ceases.
"I don't know if the binding's still in place," Harrowheart admits. "It ain't been long that they've been like this. I really haven't had time to put 'em down. Do you think you can tell if it's still in place? Or will I have to find out the hard way?"