[What an odd transmission this is; it seems to be from two points of view at once. One set of eyes roams inside the tower within the Tree of Memories, and the living things seem to be...oversaturated? Everything that exudes warmth; fire cores, actual fires, living bodies, they're all more intense somehow, the hottest faintly glowing in the dark.
The other pair of eyes is flying, the sound of spinning rotors a soft, very quiet background drone from all sides. It is also outside the Tree, flying along the branches. It can't be told from looking, but the sense through the connection is they're roughly the same height at all times, like knowing where your outstretched hand is with your eyes closed.
There's a pervading sense of looking for something or someone, made evident in words when one of the otherworlder's idle thoughts comes through, a feminine voice - those who have heard her before would be surprised to hear her unfiltered thoughts in a Chicago accent instead of the usual carefully-spoken General American accent she maintains.]
How the hell is a petty thief so good at hiding? Talk about wasted effort...
D:
[Fortuna could hardly be forced into a chair, being eight feet and four hundred pounds of troll bulk, so she holds the starter deck in a broad gloved hand, looking down at the seller and the table, and the opponent.]
Sure, I could use a diversion. There any stakes to this game?
Fortuna | Shadowrun OC (Shadowrun Returns: Dead Man's Switch malleable protag)
[What an odd transmission this is; it seems to be from two points of view at once. One set of eyes roams inside the tower within the Tree of Memories, and the living things seem to be...oversaturated? Everything that exudes warmth; fire cores, actual fires, living bodies, they're all more intense somehow, the hottest faintly glowing in the dark.
The other pair of eyes is flying, the sound of spinning rotors a soft, very quiet background drone from all sides. It is also outside the Tree, flying along the branches. It can't be told from looking, but the sense through the connection is they're roughly the same height at all times, like knowing where your outstretched hand is with your eyes closed.
There's a pervading sense of looking for something or someone, made evident in words when one of the otherworlder's idle thoughts comes through, a feminine voice - those who have heard her before would be surprised to hear her unfiltered thoughts in a Chicago accent instead of the usual carefully-spoken General American accent she maintains.]
How the hell is a petty thief so good at hiding? Talk about wasted effort...
D:
[Fortuna could hardly be forced into a chair, being eight feet and four hundred pounds of troll bulk, so she holds the starter deck in a broad gloved hand, looking down at the seller and the table, and the opponent.]
Sure, I could use a diversion. There any stakes to this game?