[ Messmer hair successfully tamed - well, moderately tamed. He pauses and glances at Verso when he's finished, if only for the brief novelty of being at eye level with him. It's strange, this pull he feels. The gnawing emptiness remains inside him, as it ever has. Even the dim light of hope he'd refused to put out - that his mother's love was true - he has finally extinguished by his own admission. He pushes onwards only for the sake of granting those who had followed him into hell release. Yet he can't deny that, looking at this man, he feels something. A want. A desire for that hope that he's managed to find. It hadn't only been in that moment in the private room; it lingers now, too.
But he does nothing, and says nothing of it; he stands back up to his full height after a moment, following the cant of Verso's head. ]
A place where fish through the air doth swim. Such imagery belongeth to dreamers and painters in mine own.
no subject
But he does nothing, and says nothing of it; he stands back up to his full height after a moment, following the cant of Verso's head. ]
A place where fish through the air doth swim. Such imagery belongeth to dreamers and painters in mine own.