Of course, [ who doesn't love spinning a good story? Certainly not him.
For the moment, he's content to investigate Nate's monstrous shape. He has seen gross musculature and the insides of man and beast. The Corporalki had an extensive tradition that involved the physical form, and an entire wing of the Little Palace where they studied and learned how to further their unique talents. While personally unable to cause a man's heart to explode within his own chest, the Darkling had sat in on a number of anatomical lessons - had hunted and skinned animals just as often. Maybe that is why he is not as disturbed by Nate's form as others might become.
He's like an anatomy lesson. And who doesn't love poking their fingers into muscle fiber and bone? ] I have to make good on my end of the bargain, after all.
[ There are a number of semi-divine beasts that inhabit his world. Morozova's stag, the sea whip. The firebird. A great earth-wyrm, burrowing somewhere below the land - perhaps. What he settles on, envisions for Nate to see - is that unreal creature that he had offered him a glimpse of before. The thing that he creates. A nothingness, given eldritch angles and layers of shape that echo impossible proportions and perpetual motion. While he leaves one hand pressed to Nate's surface, the other stretches out to his side. In his shadow, spread across the floor, something flexes. Something surges. Shifting and heaving and pressing against reality from the cage of shadow. It punches through without shattering anything, a fluid birthing, a black limb. Long, angular. Human-insectoid-canid. There's something akin to strain, flexing at the corner of the Darkling's mouth and eyes. A deeper pain that he bites back, as he drags the creature from unreality and into the real world, forces it to fit and exist. The room is a tight fit, after it crawls forth from his shadow - he's forced to retreat to the far wall. Both to lean his back along it, and to give Nate and his strange, silent child-beast room to move. ]
It is nichevo'ya. Nothing. [ The implication is there. He's created it from what does not exist. It is abomination, to his people. ] How is this, to begin with?
no subject
For the moment, he's content to investigate Nate's monstrous shape. He has seen gross musculature and the insides of man and beast. The Corporalki had an extensive tradition that involved the physical form, and an entire wing of the Little Palace where they studied and learned how to further their unique talents. While personally unable to cause a man's heart to explode within his own chest, the Darkling had sat in on a number of anatomical lessons - had hunted and skinned animals just as often. Maybe that is why he is not as disturbed by Nate's form as others might become.
He's like an anatomy lesson. And who doesn't love poking their fingers into muscle fiber and bone? ] I have to make good on my end of the bargain, after all.
[ There are a number of semi-divine beasts that inhabit his world. Morozova's stag, the sea whip. The firebird. A great earth-wyrm, burrowing somewhere below the land - perhaps. What he settles on, envisions for Nate to see - is that unreal creature that he had offered him a glimpse of before. The thing that he creates. A nothingness, given eldritch angles and layers of shape that echo impossible proportions and perpetual motion. While he leaves one hand pressed to Nate's surface, the other stretches out to his side. In his shadow, spread across the floor, something flexes. Something surges. Shifting and heaving and pressing against reality from the cage of shadow. It punches through without shattering anything, a fluid birthing, a black limb. Long, angular. Human-insectoid-canid. There's something akin to strain, flexing at the corner of the Darkling's mouth and eyes. A deeper pain that he bites back, as he drags the creature from unreality and into the real world, forces it to fit and exist. The room is a tight fit, after it crawls forth from his shadow - he's forced to retreat to the far wall. Both to lean his back along it, and to give Nate and his strange, silent child-beast room to move. ]
It is nichevo'ya. Nothing. [ The implication is there. He's created it from what does not exist. It is abomination, to his people. ] How is this, to begin with?