In My Experience There's No Such Thing as Luck [Day 7, Mid-Afternoon, Fortune, Open]

[Illiam'iira]

Ooooh. Like layers of existence? But she doesn't have time to verbalize it --

Perhaps someone else would have been put off by his voice. But instead, it reminds her so much of someone she loves more than she can bare, her father's cold, rich voice echoing within Ignaeus' own, grasping her like chains, a lifetime of memory weighing her down and tightening around her throat. The daughter of the Chosen of Bane blinks as she looks at him, eyes shiny.

[ [D7MA] Perception: 1d20+9 16 ]

[Makeshift]

"And here. Is the lesson first."

The voice is not the same, more distant now, whatever force animated him, it is leaving by measures.

"If you wish to truly see... Then you will also be seen. It is law, child."

The voice of a teacher, in a classroom, far far away, in another epoch.

"And no tumbling of dice, no weave of fate, no twisting of vitreus humor... Will save you from... Being... Seen..."

And the hoarseness creeps in, and the elegance leaves, and a husk withers in his soul. One last glance, then Ignaeus stands up, and he is so tall and so gaunt. And, this is what you see with your Perception roll, he has always been so alone and

"I

See

You

Seeing."

[Makeshift]

you stand alone with ikkit. the crowd is away. future's are being told. something terrible has gone.

[Ikkit the Bastard]

"Y'know, that cutter kinda grows on you."

[Illiam'iira]

"I

See

You

Seeing."

There is a tightening of the muscles, movement without thinking, Illiam'iira bounding forward, a hand outstretched -- not again -- she can't lose him again -- a gasp. There's nothing left but reality.

"...you're not wrong." Illi sniffles as she rubs the tears from her eyes. "Fuck."

[Ikkit the Bastard]

Ikkit didn't ask if she was okay or anything so idiotic.

He just motioned for her to have a seat next to him.

[Illiam'iira]

Illiam'iira does so without protest, and, very softly, asks, "Can I have a hug?"

[Ikkit the Bastard]

Ikkit obliged. His arms weren't even that strained since the drow was mercifully normal-sized for a giant.

[Illiam'iira]

Ikkit obliged. His arms weren't even that strained since the drow was mercifully normal-sized for a giant.

That genuinely seems to help. Leaning into him -- but not enough to smush (one must be mindful of such things, since Illi's been smushed so, so many times) -- the girl lets out one little choked whimper as she wipes away the last of the tears. Her breathing slows as she calms down though the sudden nausea doesn't go away. "Fuck... practically everything here reminds me of my stupid dad..."

[Ikkit the Bastard]

"Yeah? Barmy, philosophy-obssessed, fond o'spikes an' full o'hisself?"