Okay -- first! I am not a demigod. [Needless to say, Ishaq looked offended by accusation.] That would imply a stunted ambition on my part, and of the many insults slung my way that is not! One! Of them!
[He folded his arms. Petulantly! The formfitting black dress shirt, unbuttoned to a V down his chest, and black jeans indicated that Ishaq Duvainor, although clearly imPort, adapted easily to the aesthetic expectations of any given land.
Well. "When in Raith", right?]
And I don't know if I'm trying to kill you! I haven't decided, this is -- deeply unusual in so, so many ways. I don't know if you're some facsimile of her, how would I know that? I don't even have my fucking cleric here!
[Whom he loved very much, he loved Celia, he didn't mean to take that tone.]
no subject
[He folded his arms. Petulantly! The formfitting black dress shirt, unbuttoned to a V down his chest, and black jeans indicated that Ishaq Duvainor, although clearly imPort, adapted easily to the aesthetic expectations of any given land.
Well. "When in Raith", right?]
And I don't know if I'm trying to kill you! I haven't decided, this is -- deeply unusual in so, so many ways. I don't know if you're some facsimile of her, how would I know that? I don't even have my fucking cleric here!
[Whom he loved very much, he loved Celia, he didn't mean to take that tone.]