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Glace
Glace glared at Klethen. Then turned away.
“I doubt we even needed to do this whole thing. There was no point in dismembering him, he’s telling the truth.” Glace spun around suddenly, a knife in his hand, and his voice pitched lower. “But he still hasn’t answered my question.”
"You need French Toast."
Izre
“How do you know he’s telling the truth?” Izre demanded of Glace. “And I don’t care if he answers your question–he’s talking nonsense! He’s probably insane!”
🏰 Fantasy Writer
✨ Magic System Creator
🎭 Character RPer
📚 Appreciator of BooksGlce realized that if Klethen was the person who called them, he’d be able to parry any attack from Izre.
"You need French Toast."
I gotta go, bye!
🏰 Fantasy Writer
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🎭 Character RPer
📚 Appreciator of BooksSorry, I have to go. I shall return tomorrow. Goodnight 😉
Any noun can become a verb if you don't care enough.
Glace
“Fracture is insane. He’s afraid, but not insane. He also would be a more powerful being to summon us here, yet he let’s a Minor pin him, and almost tear him to shreds.”
The “minor” is Izre.
"You need French Toast."
Farewell! Wherever you fare, till your eyries receive you at the journey’s end!
"You need French Toast."
Izre
Izre was getting annoyed.
“A what pinning him down!” snarled Izre. “Don’t take me lightly, hooded one. I was created to destroy armies. I am the immortal, indestructible remnant of the Ancient Ages. I will not be disrespected!”
——
Okay, she’s getting a bit irritated now.
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📚 Appreciator of Books@jonas haha! I knew I could get under her skin via pride!
Glace
“I was trained to destroy armies, born to an unknown purpose. I am the son of one of the most powerful people in the Universe, and immortal water I have drunk*. The life of my blood cannot be extinguished but by one thing, and that thing you hold not in your claws. I am the son of fire and ice I may bring.” Glace flicked his right arm, and sparks scattered across the floor. He pulled back his hood, letting his eyes, left of blue and right of orange, show. His hair was touseled, and his lower face still masked, but the clasp was visible near his ear.
*This is almost literal. If you want me to explain it, prepare to get lost in the mind of C and his silly Fettians, and ancient Fetalore, and Mithscar, and Mithscariam, and immortality…
"You need French Toast."
I have returned, temporarily!
Any noun can become a verb if you don't care enough.
Izre
“Whatever,” snapped Izre. “I do not care! Did you practice that speech?”
🏰 Fantasy Writer
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📚 Appreciator of BooksKlethen
The two were arguing again. Bored, Klethen brushed the hair out of his face, careful not to smear the glyph inked on his forehead. “Can you two fight later?” He asked, “I am not insane, nor am I afraid or lying. Will you let me go?” He snapped at Izre, suddenly feeling very irritated.
Any noun can become a verb if you don't care enough.
Izre
Izre glared sourly at Klethen, then flung him sideways.
🏰 Fantasy Writer
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🎭 Character RPer
📚 Appreciator of BooksGlace
“No. And you, you do have fear. Fear of being on the ground, fear of ‘Them’. Who are ‘Them’?
"You need French Toast."
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