❅—ｐｌａｇｕｅｄ ｍｅｍｅ: ⋘Crosses: lyric meme⋙ ❝Something’s changed in your face I notice.❞
††† (Crosses) lyric starters
Her eyes never strayed from the statement held between her hands, though a decent chunk of her attention immediately shifted away from the words of the commander in charge of her little side project and to the old San’layn. His comment registered only mildly within her mind. She did not feel different from when they’d last spoken. To her knowledge, she had not accumulated any new scars for her face. Not enough thought was afforded for her to consider any of the more metaphorical or poetic intentions he likely meant to verbalize with his observation. Caught between thinking of two things, she could only process the most literal of potentialities.
She still had it in her to be a smartass, though. That was first-nature.
“Is there something in my teeth?” There couldn’t have been, but her tongue still ran across each of the little polished pearls, searching for imperfections that might mar them. Paranoia knew no death, apparently.
What was supposed to be a quick look to gauge his reaction produced a startled scream from the Wraith. Reflexively, she threw the paper at the creature beside her while also jerking away from it, inadvertently leaning too far over the edge of the table. She flailed helplessly for a few seconds before succumbing to gravity and falling with an awful, clanging crash of metal and flesh colliding with a hard floor. She lay there, dazed only for a moment before shooting back up, fingers curling around the sheathed blade that still lay on the table.
“What the fel did you do to yourself?!”
A mouthful of fangs snarled back at her, gleaming pale and vicious in the lichlight. Wicked spikes shot out from around the back of his neck like some twisted mockery of Gul’dan’s fel-born protrusions, violet spines that were embedded with enormous, acid-green jewels. The vivid color drew her eyes, rousing enough confusion - seriously, who grew green jewels from their body - that she was slowly able to piece together that no, those were not protrusions growing out from his neck, but rather just part of some strange, elaborate collar. Those weren’t fangs, or at least they didn’t seem to be his fangs. Rather, they looked to be woven into a bed of… some dark material, metal or fabric or something else entirely.
Not a monster Rune, then. Just a Rune with new fashion taste.
“You look, ah, kind of spectacular there, Blood-Prince.” A grin cracked across her face while one of her now-empty hands ran through her hair. “Is this a permanent wardrobe change, or are you going clubbing?”