Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-25808351-20180615005427/@comment-30014014-20181124061905

The poor boy had lost balance with the sudden entrance of the gemini guards, stumbling a mere two feet behind before finally adorning the floor with his fallen presence. A hand on the floor, another guarding his face, Prad had heavily considered walking along...

...until the lord's impromptu sweep. Before any word, they had already conceded their resolve. Slowly, he hitches himself up following Armata's words, a hint of perplexity of his sentence. An immortal bearing the exhaust of power, a very compelling, if odd behavior to showcase. To Prad especially it was as blatant as a pink elephant in a tiny room.

The man in the wall had no true interest. He saw only deception, having jousted with night dwellers before. To him, assuming one to exhaustion in their favorite games was nothing but a fallacy "This one pretends to a summary caution while ruling over court of slaves and yes-men. The irony of feeling the strain from the 'lesser' beings as they would call it..."

"Drain years? Are..." Prad was unsure of whether he was at the right to speak back. The atmoshpere, however seemed fit for it "...are you not already passed? Are years not a grain of sand to someone such as you?"