He'd best, [Myr mutters, and sighs, and leans into the touch with a depth of need that troubles a remote part of him.
It's growing harder and harder to keep up the internal fiction.]
He showed up--midafternoon. Evening, maybe? Two...two days ago, I think. [Late morning and three days ago. His hold on time is sometimes tenuous even when he's at his best; now...] Damned cold for him to be out. Acted as if he wanted to check up on me with how the cult had fallen apart, then turned to justifying himself when I told him I'd have none of it.
[Anger flares bright in the Bond over a layer of remembered fear. Now that Myr knew what the prior visits were about, merely thinking about how close he'd come is cause for horror.] Claimed the cult had controlled him, too; I told him not to come back without proof. From you, if he wanted a diviner's services for it.
[Speaking this through is...an odd strain, as his reflex is to damp what he's feeling. But doing that might obscure what L's seeking, and so Myr struggles to keep the Bond completely patent. Enough so that fragments of remembered conversation swirl through, ephemeral and unindexed, with the fury Myr had felt at the Naga's imposition. At his gall, to persist and persist in invading Myr's territory after his welcome was revoked.
L's strategy works, besides: What traces of Jin Guangyao's meddling remain--old and faded now--are clear as white thread on red cloth, easy to pluck up.]
no subject
It's growing harder and harder to keep up the internal fiction.]
He showed up--midafternoon. Evening, maybe? Two...two days ago, I think. [Late morning and three days ago. His hold on time is sometimes tenuous even when he's at his best; now...] Damned cold for him to be out. Acted as if he wanted to check up on me with how the cult had fallen apart, then turned to justifying himself when I told him I'd have none of it.
[Anger flares bright in the Bond over a layer of remembered fear. Now that Myr knew what the prior visits were about, merely thinking about how close he'd come is cause for horror.] Claimed the cult had controlled him, too; I told him not to come back without proof. From you, if he wanted a diviner's services for it.
[Speaking this through is...an odd strain, as his reflex is to damp what he's feeling. But doing that might obscure what L's seeking, and so Myr struggles to keep the Bond completely patent. Enough so that fragments of remembered conversation swirl through, ephemeral and unindexed, with the fury Myr had felt at the Naga's imposition. At his gall, to persist and persist in invading Myr's territory after his welcome was revoked.
L's strategy works, besides: What traces of Jin Guangyao's meddling remain--old and faded now--are clear as white thread on red cloth, easy to pluck up.]