[ When Piper opens her mind, the thread that she mentally holds gently tugs. Instead of Verim sinking into her mind, he leads Piper into his. He guides her deeper than necessary for communication, but not so far that she can see more than he wishes. A mental shield forms them of Gray power along with the distinct impression that this was for Piper's benefit and the others connected to Fayura's psychic threads. ]
We'll go slowly.
[ In one moment, Piper is entirely entirely herself, just in a strange place. Second by second that changes.
An alleyway in Draega rolls to life under her feet. Only, they are not her feet. The shoes are too big as is the body that she now seems to inhabit. Buildings crawl from the darkness and reach towards a sky that slowly weaves into a sunset.
Dinner time. The thought that isn't hers rolls across her mind with a sense of exasperation and weariness despite the growling in her belly. With a sense that trouble looms, Piper's steps quicken towards an old building that's seen better days. A slap-dash of boards bar broken windows and doors hang sideways from rusty hinges.
A thread of Red Jeweled power that she uses eases them open and then shut once Piper steps inside. The air is musty, but it's a familiar smell that is more comforting now than off putting. The first two floors are devoid of life and a witchlight keeps her steps certain on the stairs - this one is broken, that one isn't. Skip these two steps to avoid the tangled web embedded in them for unwelcomed guests. (A web that Piper made and one that isn't kind to intruders.)
On the third floor, the air clears some and with it comes the smell of food and the sounds of angry bickering.
You have to stop this. That thought too rings clear. She is the strongest Warlord Prince in this building, in all of Draega, with her Red Jewel.
Turning a corner reveals an open room where many youths gather. They are all younger than Piper - a mere 456 at best to her 578 years. Two young men - one is a Tiger Eyed Blood male, the other a landen - snarl at each other over a jar of preserved pears. They're a rare treat for anyone in Draega and even more so for those in this room who the city forgot about before they were even born.
Anger bubbles up in Piper, hot and quick, though there is a sense that this is mild and expected. Foolish to fight over food. Even more foolish to do it when they knew Verim would be dropping by. And yet, by comparison, the anger she feels is the kind that sends others to throwing punches long before they consider if they should.
Verim pauses the memory here, well knowing that the hot-temper of a Warlord Prince isn't easy for anyone to see, much less feel. ]
Are you okay? [ He asks as if he stood right beside her in the memory. ]
no subject
We'll go slowly.
[ In one moment, Piper is entirely entirely herself, just in a strange place. Second by second that changes.
An alleyway in Draega rolls to life under her feet. Only, they are not her feet. The shoes are too big as is the body that she now seems to inhabit. Buildings crawl from the darkness and reach towards a sky that slowly weaves into a sunset.
Dinner time. The thought that isn't hers rolls across her mind with a sense of exasperation and weariness despite the growling in her belly. With a sense that trouble looms, Piper's steps quicken towards an old building that's seen better days. A slap-dash of boards bar broken windows and doors hang sideways from rusty hinges.
A thread of Red Jeweled power that she uses eases them open and then shut once Piper steps inside. The air is musty, but it's a familiar smell that is more comforting now than off putting. The first two floors are devoid of life and a witchlight keeps her steps certain on the stairs - this one is broken, that one isn't. Skip these two steps to avoid the tangled web embedded in them for unwelcomed guests. (A web that Piper made and one that isn't kind to intruders.)
On the third floor, the air clears some and with it comes the smell of food and the sounds of angry bickering.
You have to stop this. That thought too rings clear. She is the strongest Warlord Prince in this building, in all of Draega, with her Red Jewel.
Turning a corner reveals an open room where many youths gather. They are all younger than Piper - a mere 456 at best to her 578 years. Two young men - one is a Tiger Eyed Blood male, the other a landen - snarl at each other over a jar of preserved pears. They're a rare treat for anyone in Draega and even more so for those in this room who the city forgot about before they were even born.
Anger bubbles up in Piper, hot and quick, though there is a sense that this is mild and expected. Foolish to fight over food. Even more foolish to do it when they knew Verim would be dropping by. And yet, by comparison, the anger she feels is the kind that sends others to throwing punches long before they consider if they should.
Verim pauses the memory here, well knowing that the hot-temper of a Warlord Prince isn't easy for anyone to see, much less feel. ]
Are you okay? [ He asks as if he stood right beside her in the memory. ]