[ Did Silco roll his eyes? He actually did roll his eyes, and leaned against the side of the tree's walls, casual. He had no place in this, in healing this thing. He remembered being trapped beneath the roots, the poison that swam in their vision as he and his daughter cut their own hands off, the way their vision had swam to blood loss, watching Jinx cut her own hand off, forced her to fall, knee deep from the first moment into misery, and now the tree pulled its punches with this new blood.
It's weak. It can do little more than reach out through communion, and Silco, in all of his violence, and anger, turned his attention toward the tree, instead of responding. He wouldn't explain what the tree had to do. That was between he, and it, and the shard so precious that he wouldn't let anyone else see. Few even knew what motivated Silco -- he preferred it that way -- but in this moment, he looked the naked, formerly naked man in the eye, and his lip curled in a cruel smirk. ]
Oh, don't worry, when you die, I'm sure your new friend will be happy to take your shard for you. Let's hope that there's a place you can be buried in, if that happens.
[ He was affected by the toxin, of course, but he refused to show it. This was like breathing the old toxins of the fissures, but instead, with the tree's miasma open and flowing toward the man, he considered -- Would it take his hatred now, feel it? He was clumsy with such things, and perhaps if Sebastian were here, he would encourage his Master to pump that violence and hatred toward the roots. It is tentative, but beyond the miasma, lurks something... violent, and hateful -- the carefully held control flagging, as he thought to aim it like a knife for the tree. ]
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It's weak. It can do little more than reach out through communion, and Silco, in all of his violence, and anger, turned his attention toward the tree, instead of responding. He wouldn't explain what the tree had to do. That was between he, and it, and the shard so precious that he wouldn't let anyone else see. Few even knew what motivated Silco -- he preferred it that way -- but in this moment, he looked the naked, formerly naked man in the eye, and his lip curled in a cruel smirk. ]
Oh, don't worry, when you die, I'm sure your new friend will be happy to take your shard for you. Let's hope that there's a place you can be buried in, if that happens.
[ He was affected by the toxin, of course, but he refused to show it. This was like breathing the old toxins of the fissures, but instead, with the tree's miasma open and flowing toward the man, he considered -- Would it take his hatred now, feel it? He was clumsy with such things, and perhaps if Sebastian were here, he would encourage his Master to pump that violence and hatred toward the roots. It is tentative, but beyond the miasma, lurks something... violent, and hateful -- the carefully held control flagging, as he thought to aim it like a knife for the tree. ]