[ What were they like. That brings an...uncomfortable sensation in his chest, and for a moment he seems to falter, raising a hand to his face as his gaze flickers. For a moment he says nothing.
Nothing good, because he hates, but it brings with it a sickening, feeling of attachment- it's disgust, and yet it feels heavy on his tongue, to speak what he desires. He knows fully well how he feels, but it's wrong, at the same time- ]
Repulsive. [ He finally gets out, idly pressing his nails to the skin in an effort to distract himself. ] To wear the face and robes of a priest whilst your soul is long gone is nothing short of laughable. But Kindred are capable of many things, and dream-walking just happens to be one of his.
[ His fingers still itch from that encounter, the sound of his confessions slipping from his tongue without having a say whilst the shadows tore at his skin, knees pressed to the dirt like a stone was on his back. ]
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Nothing good, because he hates, but it brings with it a sickening, feeling of attachment- it's disgust, and yet it feels heavy on his tongue, to speak what he desires. He knows fully well how he feels, but it's wrong, at the same time- ]
Repulsive. [ He finally gets out, idly pressing his nails to the skin in an effort to distract himself. ] To wear the face and robes of a priest whilst your soul is long gone is nothing short of laughable. But Kindred are capable of many things, and dream-walking just happens to be one of his.
[ His fingers still itch from that encounter, the sound of his confessions slipping from his tongue without having a say whilst the shadows tore at his skin, knees pressed to the dirt like a stone was on his back. ]