Welcome to Gaia! ::

The man winced again as she spoke, his left ear being set on fire by the sound. He wished he could reach out. and pull off that mask, see what she was really thinking, when she spoke, or when she looked around like that. It was almost driving him insane, and he could feel his left hand twitching.

However, he just grasped the cloak with it, pulling it tight around him, even as he slightly shouted "Thanks... Dune..." to her. He still had a question on his mind, and burning question. He couldn't get that image out of his head. So he asked, "Who stabbed me?"

The dead are fickle things; some prefer to live pseudo-lives with their corpses, while other undead prefer their generally spookier corporeal apparitions counterparts. Long time friend ((ooc: not really. ><)) of the tiny wraith, kheleksul was the only other resident of the temple... that is, with the exception of the ever-present Crystal Guardian.

It didn't take long for the zombie to realize that their relative solitude that she had enjoyed had come to an end. Voices could be heard on the balcony... loud voices, of people who, khel supposed, did not deserve to receive the call of the Crystal. The Living tended to underestimate the power of the Crystal, and the significance of the Crystal's call.

Striding past the Crystal Chamber, kheleksul pulled open the door to the balcony (nodding, as Paper had done before, to the Crystal Guardian in greeting). In a cold (one could say "dead") voice, she addressed the figures on the terrace, "Shut up. The noise is disturbing Those-Who-Can-Not-Be-Disturbed. Do you have any business here, with either my colleague or myself?"

"No, but I do hear it." Dune replied in a monotonous tone (refraining from replying to the zombie's question) as she kept her back turned to the zombie. She hadn't even been speaking particularly loudly throughout her time here but then again, who was she to question such things when she was in an area she was unfamiliar with?

Continuing to apply pressure to Roger's ear she simply kept her gaze fixed on the wall ahead of her and continued to allow her mind to run rampant in the process - she had other concerns that did not include the undead which this place seemed to spawn on an hourly basis; if need be she would simply take the easy route out and bail quite literally over the edge of the temple wall.

Roger's face drained, and turned pale, thus, his ear stopped bleeding quite so much. His jaw was hanging down slack, as his eyes looked from Dune, to the undead, and back again. His eyes shifted between the two several times, moving quickly, before he managed to calm down, and pull his jaw close.

"Um... that... that's not supposed to happen..." he murmured weakly, as his eyes settled on the zombie, "ain't... supposed to be real... just a dream."

he reached up with his left hand, pressing the cloak bundle against his ear. Slowly the man got his feet under him, and managed to push himself up onto his feet. He smiled over at Dune and bowed his head to her, letting out a "Thank you Dune," as he rose. She seemed so, strange. Nice enough he supposed, but strange. And with some temper problems... A lot of temper problems.

Then he turned back towards the zombie, bowing to her as well, "I appologize, please forgive me."

The man smiled at the zombie as he rose from his bow to her. Why, well, only he knew. Regardless he seemed unphased by her veiled threat, a strange occurance, to say the least. He seemed slightly more confident, as he dropped the cloak. His ear was still red with blood, but it didn't seem to be bleeding anymore. His fingers worked a the cloak, pulling off from around him, and he set it down on the railing, near Dune.

"What's your name, dead one?"

"The exchange of names would signify the change of our relationship's status from 'strangers' to 'acquaintences'; I'm not sure whether my rotting flesh can handle such emotions yet," the zombie replied dryly. Inwardly, however, kheleksul wondered at the apparent unconcern for her undead apparel.

...Perhaps... perhaps just this once, the zombie dared to hope, she wouldn't be chased away, hunted after, as if she were nothing more than a mindless beast....

"Maybe, if you give me your name, I'd consider relinquishing mine."

Addressing the (now pacing) masked woman, kheleksul questioned, "She sure is nice, isn't she? Got an irresistable charm to her..." She glanced towards Paper, a fond smile on her face. "Exactly where in the story was Paper? I don't know as much about this place as she does, but I could always try to finish what she's started."