I think there is little risk in a...we shall call it a technical sense. Were we to rejoin several at once I would have concerns. Because of their size and scale, we had to be cautious about rejoining the shards. A single soul - a sliver of a soul - is much less difficult.
[ he does not respond to the rest because he does not know how. instead, he gives up on searching on foot and looks, properly. identifies splotches of color one after another, not isolated, tending to their duties but surrounded by other souls. an instant to step through one wall to the next, and his question is answered, but not how he had anticipated. today is just a day full of petty irritations.
to the shard's grave then. he is careful stepping through the flood of flowers, nudging the ground and flowers aside with a bit of aether to make room for his boots, neatly smoothing soil and flowers back into place once he's moved on.
he doesn't know why he bothered to come here. it is just a grave.
bones and dirt, not answers. not direction. he stretches his awareness until he reaches the aetherial sea shattered, fragmented thing that it is, and sighs. the shard lies within reach, if he tried. if viktor tried.
crouching, he thumbs dirt off where it has gathered in the grooves of the stone, and with the sweep of his fingers across the face shifts the stone to amaurotine stone, instead. ]
Maybe you'll be less trouble. Probably not.
[ the faintest flicker of a wry smile to the grave, and emet-selch vanishes through another portal. ]
no subject
I think there is little risk in a...we shall call it a technical sense. Were we to rejoin several at once I would have concerns. Because of their size and scale, we had to be cautious about rejoining the shards. A single soul - a sliver of a soul - is much less difficult.
[ he does not respond to the rest because he does not know how. instead, he gives up on searching on foot and looks, properly. identifies splotches of color one after another, not isolated, tending to their duties but surrounded by other souls. an instant to step through one wall to the next, and his question is answered, but not how he had anticipated. today is just a day full of petty irritations.
to the shard's grave then. he is careful stepping through the flood of flowers, nudging the ground and flowers aside with a bit of aether to make room for his boots, neatly smoothing soil and flowers back into place once he's moved on.
he doesn't know why he bothered to come here. it is just a grave.
bones and dirt, not answers. not direction. he stretches his awareness until he reaches the aetherial sea shattered, fragmented thing that it is, and sighs. the shard lies within reach, if he tried. if viktor tried.
crouching, he thumbs dirt off where it has gathered in the grooves of the stone, and with the sweep of his fingers across the face shifts the stone to amaurotine stone, instead. ]
Maybe you'll be less trouble. Probably not.
[ the faintest flicker of a wry smile to the grave, and emet-selch vanishes through another portal. ]