[ Dealing with the hunger is this constant and nerve-wracking problem, never mind the bouts of sleeplessness and the chill that pervades, wracking like the cold. He doesn't even need to breathe. Three days into it and Tartaglia's miserable— not with the newfound strength but this ill and nauseating attainment of power. It's not his own. None of it is. When he'd intended to conquer the world, it should've been by his own merits, not this sham.
So his doppelgänger— or really, his body, gone up and walking around without him— receives an abrupt greeting, as Tartaglia steps out of the underbrush, bleak with his stare and these misgivings. ]
He Xuan. [ He knows it's you in there, under his skin. ] We need to talk.
[ Whatever reason has kept He Xuan roaming around the mountains for eons could stand to mean less; Tartaglia's got nowhere to go but closer, and he really isn't interested in escaping an issue. One way or another, he'll handle it. ]
iii
So his doppelgänger— or really, his body, gone up and walking around without him— receives an abrupt greeting, as Tartaglia steps out of the underbrush, bleak with his stare and these misgivings. ]
He Xuan. [ He knows it's you in there, under his skin. ] We need to talk.
[ Whatever reason has kept He Xuan roaming around the mountains for eons could stand to mean less; Tartaglia's got nowhere to go but closer, and he really isn't interested in escaping an issue. One way or another, he'll handle it. ]