[ Mitsuhide. Mitsuhide. Look at this man. Does he appear particularly prone to giggles??
And by the Void. By the fucking Void, it's like talking to - being talked at by - the Outsider himself. The questions without answer, suggestions toward some meaning that only the speaker can perceive. Daud didn't ask for this. Daud absolutely didn't ask for this (though if it's the cost of keeping this bastard away from Xu Shu, he'll accept it; after all, he's been prepared for this breed of periphrastic speaking, if not for the floating skulls).
A question to consider is what kind of magic this man possesses. It's nothing Daud's ever seen before, nor does it sign of the Void. Whatever, whoever Mitsuhide is, he controls powers that evade Daud's knowing. Where he'd gotten them is a mystery. What he can do with them is an unsettling idea. ]
I don't care for riddles. And I'm not one for guessing.
You should have sent your letter.
[ There's a quiet thought, growing the longer he watches this strange excuse for a man. If Mitsuhide's bent their agreement so far as to speak his letter rather than sending it through the mail, what else might he have twisted? Right now, the thought's barely discernible, but with each quirk of Mitsuhide's, it speaks just a little stronger. ]
no subject
And by the Void. By the fucking Void, it's like talking to - being talked at by - the Outsider himself. The questions without answer, suggestions toward some meaning that only the speaker can perceive. Daud didn't ask for this. Daud absolutely didn't ask for this (though if it's the cost of keeping this bastard away from Xu Shu, he'll accept it; after all, he's been prepared for this breed of periphrastic speaking, if not for the floating skulls).
A question to consider is what kind of magic this man possesses. It's nothing Daud's ever seen before, nor does it sign of the Void. Whatever, whoever Mitsuhide is, he controls powers that evade Daud's knowing. Where he'd gotten them is a mystery. What he can do with them is an unsettling idea. ]
I don't care for riddles. And I'm not one for guessing.
You should have sent your letter.
[ There's a quiet thought, growing the longer he watches this strange excuse for a man. If Mitsuhide's bent their agreement so far as to speak his letter rather than sending it through the mail, what else might he have twisted? Right now, the thought's barely discernible, but with each quirk of Mitsuhide's, it speaks just a little stronger. ]