The kid he's looking at is a marvel. The kid is a bastardized nightmare of a soul melange. He can't even count the threads, but he can see the off-kilter way they fit together, as though this boy has left half his soul somewhere else and borrowed half of another's—
It isn't lyctorhood. It can't be. The dead-star burn of thanergy generation isn't here; this is something thalergy-bright, all life and soul and— incomprehensibly— more life. This is, in short, deeply fucking weird.
All that shows on his face is a furrowing of brows, an expression of half-unsettled, all-startled interest, and then the man in the doorway steps back to let Oscar inside. He doesn't look like much, really. Simple black clothing, no weapons to be seen... but his eyes are wrong: a burning white light on black sclera, monstrously dark.
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The kid he's looking at is a marvel. The kid is a bastardized nightmare of a soul melange. He can't even count the threads, but he can see the off-kilter way they fit together, as though this boy has left half his soul somewhere else and borrowed half of another's—
It isn't lyctorhood. It can't be. The dead-star burn of thanergy generation isn't here; this is something thalergy-bright, all life and soul and— incomprehensibly— more life. This is, in short, deeply fucking weird.
All that shows on his face is a furrowing of brows, an expression of half-unsettled, all-startled interest, and then the man in the doorway steps back to let Oscar inside. He doesn't look like much, really. Simple black clothing, no weapons to be seen... but his eyes are wrong: a burning white light on black sclera, monstrously dark.
"Come on in."