[ Lucilius takes a seat on one of the excessively ostentatious sofas, the color of which is as immodest as he'd expect of someone with Belial's tastes. He's about to settle into a lounge before he realizes that he has misjudges the proportions of size; his new height makes it far too small for him to comfortably spread across; Lucilius stands up just in time to hear Belial's question, and the news that his preferred herb for tea is permanently gone makes him scowl. ]
Really. The skydwellers could not do something as simple as preserving a single plant for a mere two thousand years? [ He sighs as he moves to the longer sofa that seems able to contain his new size. ] Fine. Make the alternative. [ In practice, it's unlikely to make any difference. It isn't as if he needs the tea in the first place, or would benefit from it in any significant way. But he has maintained the habit of drinking from this particular blend and this specific herb for so long, and that change being forced upon him is irritating.
He splays himself upon the couch and makes himself at home, all but forcing his new body to relax, and analyzes his injuries. The battle has not left him with any permanent injuries, and nothing that his original Astral body would be unable to survive and regenerate from; this body has belonged to a Primal he himself designed and built to not only survive but emerge victorious in the most brutal of battles. In fact, the fusion of an Astral's consciousness and will with a primal body, even one that has been designed to fit, not to mention a body that has experienced skydweller mortality rather than death as primal beasts know it, should have fascinating results— he's curious. How far he can push his new power, what the limits are, just how much of this new body is alive or dead, what its needs are. He's already gotten a taste of it on Etemenanki, and the change of exploring this unprecedented mixture to its full potential is potent enough to almost make their failure worth it.
Later. The point remains that all external damage has been well taken care of by the innate regenerative abilities long before he had taken step upon this island; and the internal damage is laughable to any primal beast's regenerative abilities. So, any pain or discomfort he is still feeling is simply from fatigue, from overuse. Perhaps less in his body than in mind. A sensation well-known to his old body, but not one he'd expect to experience in Lucifer's. ]
no subject
Really. The skydwellers could not do something as simple as preserving a single plant for a mere two thousand years? [ He sighs as he moves to the longer sofa that seems able to contain his new size. ] Fine. Make the alternative. [ In practice, it's unlikely to make any difference. It isn't as if he needs the tea in the first place, or would benefit from it in any significant way. But he has maintained the habit of drinking from this particular blend and this specific herb for so long, and that change being forced upon him is irritating.
He splays himself upon the couch and makes himself at home, all but forcing his new body to relax, and analyzes his injuries. The battle has not left him with any permanent injuries, and nothing that his original Astral body would be unable to survive and regenerate from; this body has belonged to a Primal he himself designed and built to not only survive but emerge victorious in the most brutal of battles. In fact, the fusion of an Astral's consciousness and will with a primal body, even one that has been designed to fit, not to mention a body that has experienced skydweller mortality rather than death as primal beasts know it, should have fascinating results— he's curious. How far he can push his new power, what the limits are, just how much of this new body is alive or dead, what its needs are. He's already gotten a taste of it on Etemenanki, and the change of exploring this unprecedented mixture to its full potential is potent enough to almost make their failure worth it.
Later. The point remains that all external damage has been well taken care of by the innate regenerative abilities long before he had taken step upon this island; and the internal damage is laughable to any primal beast's regenerative abilities. So, any pain or discomfort he is still feeling is simply from fatigue, from overuse. Perhaps less in his body than in mind. A sensation well-known to his old body, but not one he'd expect to experience in Lucifer's. ]