the boundary which divides life and death

Even the childish nickname she holds for him, Toly, is of no annoyance. It has come to be a small source of comfort in his heretofore solitary existence as something other, something between the living and the dead.

He does not turn from his present task, fully capable of dividing his attentions as easily as dividing realities. A half-smirk forms on lips which chant terrible things. "Do you now?" he finally asks her, changing from Hive to Common, as he comes to a natural pause in his ministrations.

Satisfied with the present state of the tincture, he sets the modified Erlenmeyer flask into a clamp beneath a burette for further titration. It's now that he glances at her, originally dark eyes alight with soulfire. "Which is it that you want?" He spreads out an arm, extending the fabric of his robes, setting the talismans and devotional medals to ringing.

❝ Lo, lo, I never sleep ... ❞

                                                                      rules • bio • verses • apprentice