[ This is the second time, someone has used magic on him that he wasn't used to and it still felt off. It was not that there was a way to get used to the void, even when it settled around his bones, his mind, his thoughts. A cold touch that comes from dark places, and it recoiled and twisted under his skin as she pressed light onto him. Different for the minute it washed over him, like the sea beaten back and he stood upon the shore once more.
It was only the minute, and it was more than the scratches, the bruise on his cheek from Deadpool was gone, the ache from the old wounds dulled and he looked at her with a kind of wonder, confusion more than that, but there was no fear, no hatred. The void was not kind, it was not by it's nature truly evil, it was neutral, and there was a cruelty to that.
She was not, her magic was kind, it helped, even if it could do more than just that. Nothing of him, helped that same way. Knew it was possible, all things were possible, he supposed, even with the void, but he had never seen it. But as the light went, the water rushed back in and it was the strange coldness that sunk over him once more. His expression lowered off her, and he was unsure what to do or say.
So he picks something else, totally at random or at least seemingly. There is a point to it. At least to explain something of why he'd never fear her, at least not without being a hypocrite. ]
no subject
It was only the minute, and it was more than the scratches, the bruise on his cheek from Deadpool was gone, the ache from the old wounds dulled and he looked at her with a kind of wonder, confusion more than that, but there was no fear, no hatred. The void was not kind, it was not by it's nature truly evil, it was neutral, and there was a cruelty to that.
She was not, her magic was kind, it helped, even if it could do more than just that. Nothing of him, helped that same way. Knew it was possible, all things were possible, he supposed, even with the void, but he had never seen it. But as the light went, the water rushed back in and it was the strange coldness that sunk over him once more. His expression lowered off her, and he was unsure what to do or say.
So he picks something else, totally at random or at least seemingly. There is a point to it. At least to explain something of why he'd never fear her, at least not without being a hypocrite. ]
Did you still wish to see the charm I spoke of?