Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-26288702-20180310221203/@comment-30014014-20180521172011

Prad's ears catch the captivity of speech from the undeads. From the burnt maan. His mind, however, still lingers on his increasing encroachment toward violence. Shut down on emotion as he was, one with the sight of decyphering words from eyes would see a slightly more glaucous gaze he bears, drenched in a sickly orchid.

The gemini still run vivid in his psyche. With fear so easily dethroned by his yearn for destruction. Crossed together, one of his hands clench at the prospect, power running through his irises. And he had access to their every info. Attack patterns, arcane, equipment, tactics, weaknesses. Weaknesses especially. All knitted into the body of the Unseen.

And yet, he wasn't sure to stage conversation with the entity. After all, they are of the same race. Who knew how it would react, if Prad were to ask it about everything...enemies, perhaps, but would it be enough for it to cross the gap and handle their deepest secrets to one wishing naught but murder on them? He didn't know for sure...