Van had waited a while after the Nexus ate him, pacing and finding clothing. He needed something suitable, not too dressy. Since there was a chance he'd spaz, and it was truly amazing how very fast pure energy ate a silk outfit. So, after a long while of digging through three-quarters of his clothing (and about half of Shad's) he settled on a clean white doeskin tunic, a black tank-top underneath. A pair of black leggings and a simple pair of boots.
A faint grin as he combed and trimmed his hair. He'd caught the look Dark had given him, the one that wondered if he was sane. He tied off the thong he was using to bind the shoulder-length braid and went to bed. The letter from Celestine tucked in with the dagger under his pillow.
The next morning he awoke and stretched. Up early for a nice change he got a cup of tea and armed himself as he waited for the time to come. No, not armed for bear, or dragon. Armed more for humans. A couple daggers slipped into his boots, another pair in his sleeve. Not that he didn't trust her body gaurds, no. It was more that he didn't trust Murphy's law. If he wore weapons, nothing would happen to require them.
Once the time came he popped the wax of the letter in one smooth motion, having already locked the door to his room. And with a shrug, popped it in his mouth and swallowed. Muscles twitched as the gating magic slammed into him full force, and to all outward appearances he was gone.
The gate had taken him. That he knew, the problem here was that his tattoos were on high alert. He could feel the lines of magic eating away at his clothing, and found himself hoping that it only felt like an eternity to him.
A faint grin as he combed and trimmed his hair. He'd caught the look Dark had given him, the one that wondered if he was sane. He tied off the thong he was using to bind the shoulder-length braid and went to bed. The letter from Celestine tucked in with the dagger under his pillow.
The next morning he awoke and stretched. Up early for a nice change he got a cup of tea and armed himself as he waited for the time to come. No, not armed for bear, or dragon. Armed more for humans. A couple daggers slipped into his boots, another pair in his sleeve. Not that he didn't trust her body gaurds, no. It was more that he didn't trust Murphy's law. If he wore weapons, nothing would happen to require them.
Once the time came he popped the wax of the letter in one smooth motion, having already locked the door to his room. And with a shrug, popped it in his mouth and swallowed. Muscles twitched as the gating magic slammed into him full force, and to all outward appearances he was gone.
The gate had taken him. That he knew, the problem here was that his tattoos were on high alert. He could feel the lines of magic eating away at his clothing, and found himself hoping that it only felt like an eternity to him.