A Return to Form
With @luckyberetâ from this ask:
ââ ââşThe silent specter of death, an assassin, a knight, a lancer, all of these things and more, stared at the sorcerer from behind the iron bars of his shrouding helm. Watching how the air seemed to chill around her -- the way her body went still at the sound of his voice, it was something that never failed to bring a smile to his face.
Whatever counted as one beneath that veneer, that was. His lance and shield rested on his back, barely a burden as he regarded the sorcerer emerging from the roadside.
âAh...â he hummed, letting his voice trail off into the air. âI suppose I was standing here for a bit... needed to make certain it was you, after all~ It wouldnât do if I stumbled upon another lovely sorcerer on the road, now would it?â His arms were crossed, but his posture bespoke infinite confidence and comfort in the situation. Marylin had always straddled an interesting point between target, companion, and client. Perhaps that was what always made it so enjoyable to see the emotions play out on her face?
He steps closer, hovering, for a moment. Before a gauntleted hand raises up to brush some twigs and branches out of Marylinâs hair. He sighs, sounding almost disappointed.
âNo, no... unfortunately, no work for me in some time. Just a lot of thought, a lot of wandering, and woefully short time spent with people I care to see... Though, perhaps itâs far less of a unique experience, judging from how youâre looking right now~â His laughter whispers out, a gentle cackling, devoid of all the malice and cruelty that had once haunted her.
Oh, how curious their entanglement had become.
