Istredd wouldn’t know it from the blip of the interaction they’ve found themselves. Their attentions will be pulled soon, disrupted most likely than anything. Louis is going to take the moment to truly try and recenter what feels is his mind collapsing into itself. He isn’t easy to use the Gifts he was given. He’s truly desperate in the faintest outline of the presentation he’s trying to keep together.
The joke brings forth a sound forming a chuckle, one that is abrupt in a low tone. To think there are beings far older, he’d believe it, considering he’s young compared to his vampiric life. He’s even weak to what a vampire his age should be at. Would he want to reach those years Istredd speaks of? Beings older than Armand or the even older vampires he spoke of? Elves, angels… The angel part does make him intentionally pause, his eyes glazing over the shrines.
He has his strained issues with religion and the roots it still holds within.
“I’d be a relief to be boring,” said with a hint of amusement. To be human. The way Istredd speaks nearly makes him want to ask who is speaking to you. The whispers have to be speaking to all, and it’s noted. After Paul, after everything that he’s seen in his own life back home, he has no hesitance to the information unfolding. “Only Solvunn? But, you believe? I admit, it is hard to trust any divinity if they’re good regardless.”
To stand by and allow the injustices still digs at him even from the darkness of the pit. He can sense the pain, and even more he’s seen flashes of people’s lives. Who or what would allow such a horror? Louis has only heard whispers of the Singularity, and its mystery might just turn Louis away from it. The magic alone is something he hasn’t processed. His body compels to another tune, one led by the remorse living within him.
You hurt me, Louis. You promised. Make it right. Make it right. Choose me, Daddy Lou.
The last part nearly breaks his concentration and Istredd might be able to pick it up, if he is attuned. He’d hear the fabrication of what Louis remembers is Claudia’s thick Nola accent, of a young girl’s voice. There’s a blink and a wetness to his lashes that he hides away by looking more down upon the shrines. His cheeks will threaten to stain with blood if he doesn't withhold, so he sucks in a breath.
“These symbols are only reminders of what happens when people get a hold of power. Maybe we can use it against them. Get to their fill before them.”
pls, this event is lovely & A LOT of excitement to maneuver so i get
The joke brings forth a sound forming a chuckle, one that is abrupt in a low tone. To think there are beings far older, he’d believe it, considering he’s young compared to his vampiric life. He’s even weak to what a vampire his age should be at. Would he want to reach those years Istredd speaks of? Beings older than Armand or the even older vampires he spoke of? Elves, angels… The angel part does make him intentionally pause, his eyes glazing over the shrines.
He has his strained issues with religion and the roots it still holds within.
“I’d be a relief to be boring,” said with a hint of amusement. To be human. The way Istredd speaks nearly makes him want to ask who is speaking to you. The whispers have to be speaking to all, and it’s noted. After Paul, after everything that he’s seen in his own life back home, he has no hesitance to the information unfolding. “Only Solvunn? But, you believe? I admit, it is hard to trust any divinity if they’re good regardless.”
To stand by and allow the injustices still digs at him even from the darkness of the pit. He can sense the pain, and even more he’s seen flashes of people’s lives. Who or what would allow such a horror? Louis has only heard whispers of the Singularity, and its mystery might just turn Louis away from it. The magic alone is something he hasn’t processed. His body compels to another tune, one led by the remorse living within him.The last part nearly breaks his concentration and Istredd might be able to pick it up, if he is attuned. He’d hear the fabrication of what Louis remembers is Claudia’s thick Nola accent, of a young girl’s voice. There’s a blink and a wetness to his lashes that he hides away by looking more down upon the shrines. His cheeks will threaten to stain with blood if he doesn't withhold, so he sucks in a breath.
“These symbols are only reminders of what happens when people get a hold of power. Maybe we can use it against them. Get to their fill before them.”