[ Steely blue eyes are fixed on Voryn's retreating back, brow knotted with concentration – no, with anticipation. He's in agreement with his new ashen companion that whatever is happening here is a potential threat to their very lives, and as such whatever the outcome of his actions here might be is critical. And he can't die here... he won't.
Miasma seeps into his pores as his chest swells with each inhale, and again his vision blurs, accompanied by a ringing in his ears. Only this time the ringing doesn't taper into nothingness but rather steadies into a solid pattern, a distinctive beeping and whirring of hospital machines. His next breath in smells antiseptic and the words Voryn speaks sound foreign to his ears but recognizable. Greek. He's back in Cyprus, there's cold tile beneath his feet instead of porous earth, and he can see the foot of a hospital bed poking out from behind a curtain. It's him–
His step forward is halted when he hears a sharper, far more bitter voice cutting into the hazy mirage that's been created for him, and it's Silco's presence he can credit with bringing him back to a world he doesn't want. The acidity in his voice is something he can feel in his own chest, hard stare turning on him. There's anger there, at first, though it sharpens into something much more akin to realization when he sees the concentration on a warped face and feels a new viciousness stinging the air like electricity. Only the source, this time, isn't the tree that's currently crippling Voryn. ]
Hey... [ His voice is rough now, refinding his purchase on reality. ]
Hey! What the hell are you doing? [ He doesn't wait for an answer before he's moving, agile and quick to close the distance between himself and Silco. His arm is immediately wedged between them, thrust against his windpipe to force him back against that gnarled tree. ]
You trying to get us all killed? You let him finish what the hell he needs to do, whether your emotions like it or not... I told you to stand down!
[ The words are emphasized with a sudden jerk back, only for him to cock his fist for a rapid jab to the right of Silco's face, then a follow-up to his solar plexus. Something to disorient him and break his concentration for whatever sickness he's spewing into the communion between Voryn and this creature seemingly intent on doing them harm. ]
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Miasma seeps into his pores as his chest swells with each inhale, and again his vision blurs, accompanied by a ringing in his ears. Only this time the ringing doesn't taper into nothingness but rather steadies into a solid pattern, a distinctive beeping and whirring of hospital machines. His next breath in smells antiseptic and the words Voryn speaks sound foreign to his ears but recognizable. Greek. He's back in Cyprus, there's cold tile beneath his feet instead of porous earth, and he can see the foot of a hospital bed poking out from behind a curtain. It's him–
His step forward is halted when he hears a sharper, far more bitter voice cutting into the hazy mirage that's been created for him, and it's Silco's presence he can credit with bringing him back to a world he doesn't want. The acidity in his voice is something he can feel in his own chest, hard stare turning on him. There's anger there, at first, though it sharpens into something much more akin to realization when he sees the concentration on a warped face and feels a new viciousness stinging the air like electricity. Only the source, this time, isn't the tree that's currently crippling Voryn. ]
Hey... [ His voice is rough now, refinding his purchase on reality. ]
Hey! What the hell are you doing? [ He doesn't wait for an answer before he's moving, agile and quick to close the distance between himself and Silco. His arm is immediately wedged between them, thrust against his windpipe to force him back against that gnarled tree. ]
You trying to get us all killed? You let him finish what the hell he needs to do, whether your emotions like it or not... I told you to stand down!
[ The words are emphasized with a sudden jerk back, only for him to cock his fist for a rapid jab to the right of Silco's face, then a follow-up to his solar plexus. Something to disorient him and break his concentration for whatever sickness he's spewing into the communion between Voryn and this creature seemingly intent on doing them harm. ]