You don't "win" a war...
A Noah Lavi in white form sits in a hallway against a wall, staring at the opposite wall with a grim expression.
Junior had finally figured out that his physical wounds were only illusions. He had believed in the blood long enough that it had become completely real, though, and his slashed-up clothing is soaked in it.
"Good job, Bookman..."
[ooc: the immediate aftermath of an ugly mental battle with distorted_blade. He's no danger to anyone right now, but he'll respond better to Exorcists than to Noah.]
Junior had finally figured out that his physical wounds were only illusions. He had believed in the blood long enough that it had become completely real, though, and his slashed-up clothing is soaked in it.
"Good job, Bookman..."
[ooc: the immediate aftermath of an ugly mental battle with distorted_blade. He's no danger to anyone right now, but he'll respond better to Exorcists than to Noah.]