@grimabrand oo1. / s.c.
{ 👑 } NEVER DID HE EXPECT TO FIND a familiar face, not when the mere thought of this location being anything short of a purgatory is laughable. As far as he's concerned, she doesn't deserve to be here, but the part of his heart still gnarled and cold and utterly selfish is thankful. There's a great struggle in what to do about her, whether to leave the tactician be or consider the PERSISTENT hope that she may yet wish to aid Plegia after the mess that cur Validar created.
HE EDGES INTO HER VIEW, NOT like a skulking shadow, but proper, pair of hands clasped together behind his back — — yet with all the EXCITABILITY of a small dog at meal times. Old habits die hard, and even with the awareness, the self hatred, the thoughts that his way has always been wrong, and gods, he's nothing if not a broken, IMPERFECT man.
❝HOH! WOULD YOU LOOK AT WHAT the cat dragged in!❞ He acts like he's fine, voice a sing song lilt accompanied by jaunty footsteps. ❝STRANGE, I assumed someone of your caliber would be spared of this fate — — unless you have some secrets in your past,❞ he adds, sly in tone, punctuated by one of his usual laughs.















