Fit to Burst [Among the mirrorbound there is one whose clothes are more old-fashioned than even the local styles. With a robe draped over his shoulder and a crown of laurels, without exchanging a word anyone with passing familiarity with museum statues or textbook photos can tell that this man is Greek.
And somehow, a sense of pride and pompousness, too. Reverent speech of powerful fairy masters hasn't fazed him at all, but certain grievances have. He hones in on anyone among the bustling crowd who looks like they're not too entranced by the generosity of the Fae to listen to him.]
Where did the common folk learn such nerve? My ability is more than adequate compared to anyone here! And I am not a monster!
[Some strands of Theseus's hair are starting to stiffen and stand on end, and his shoulders have been itchy since he came to his senses, but that was merely incidental.]
The Emergence [The infected are already so numerous, it's easy to end up cornered with a rabid Shade. It prepares to throw itself at the one uninfected, but never does thanks to the point of a spear impaling it through the chest.
The corrupted flesh, overripe with the Cwyld, is soft, and in one strong thrust it's torn apart.
On the other end of the spear, Theseus is calm, making sure to finish by flicking the released black substance off the blade away from the two. The man's face is not disturbed at all, despite the violent shift to the murder of what was probably just someone he had conversation with.]
Theseus | HADES | Harpy
[Among the mirrorbound there is one whose clothes are more old-fashioned than even the local styles. With a robe draped over his shoulder and a crown of laurels, without exchanging a word anyone with passing familiarity with museum statues or textbook photos can tell that this man is Greek.
And somehow, a sense of pride and pompousness, too. Reverent speech of powerful fairy masters hasn't fazed him at all, but certain grievances have. He hones in on anyone among the bustling crowd who looks like they're not too entranced by the generosity of the Fae to listen to him.]
Where did the common folk learn such nerve? My ability is more than adequate compared to anyone here! And I am not a monster!
[Some strands of Theseus's hair are starting to stiffen and stand on end, and his shoulders have been itchy since he came to his senses, but that was merely incidental.]
The Emergence
[The infected are already so numerous, it's easy to end up cornered with a rabid Shade. It prepares to throw itself at the one uninfected, but never does thanks to the point of a spear impaling it through the chest.
The corrupted flesh, overripe with the Cwyld, is soft, and in one strong thrust it's torn apart.
On the other end of the spear, Theseus is calm, making sure to finish by flicking the released black substance off the blade away from the two. The man's face is not disturbed at all, despite the violent shift to the murder of what was probably just someone he had conversation with.]
You are unharmed?