(Untitled)

[perfectblue]

Illyria is in the bar, mainly because her mun is forcing her to be.

Normally when she is in these moods of great indifference and mild annoyance, she is out by the lake. But since the weather generally discourages anyone else from being around, and since she's not particularly averse to meeting people, she is for once actually in the bar. She

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[floating_skull]

"Could you zap berks with that?" asks a grey-eyed skull, which has stopped to watch her sparking fingers.

[perfectblue]

Illyria stares.

"...Perhaps, if I had any knowledge of what berks are." she replies, and allows the energy to make a sharp crackling noise as she releases it, the sparks dying away for the moment.

"For that matter, what precisely are you?"

[floating_skull]

The skull dips himself. His eyes flick over the rest of her body - not covertly, either - before he speaks.

"I'm a mimir - a floating encyclopedia of places you've probably never heard of, if I know this burg."

"And berks are people whose brains rattle when they shake their heads."

[perfectblue]

"I have heard of a great many places." Illyria replies. "Though the names which are given to things change over time."

She pauses for a moment, eyeing the skull appraisingly.

"Do you always assume that form?"

[floating_skull]

"Mmm, really? Sigil, the Cage, City of Doors, centre of the Planes?"

He tumbles, dips and twirls in mid-air before facing her again. "I find it very mobile. And it's the only one I got."

[perfectblue]

She shrugs.

"I would only know a place if I saw it again, which due to certain constraints upon my powers, I no longer can with as much ease as I once did."

Though it is quite likely that if a place existed, she had travelled through it in passing.

"I would imagine that most beings would prefer not to receive their information out of the mouth of an entity that appears as one of their dead, though perhaps I am mistaken."

[floating_skull]

"What kind of powers? And how didja lose 'em?" the skull asks.

"Sigil's a right barmy place at times," he admits. "Me, I think the talking skull motif comes from the whole 'dead having knowledge denied to the living' bit of screed."

[perfectblue]

"During my original reign as a god of my world, my powers were vast and numerous. I could travel the planes as I wished, exist in several places at once, for example."

She sighs, faintly.

"They were taken from me as a means of preserving the body in which I currently reside. It was unable to sustain my full power indefinitely. The powers I have left are mere parlor tricks in comparison. Such a grievous waste of an existence."

[floating_skull]

Morte's assessment of that is, "Wow. Some tough luck.

"So...how's the new body working for you?"

[perfectblue]

"Adequately enough, I suppose." she says. "I do not mind it as much as I once did, at least."

It is a great deal better than being a floating skull. she thinks, but is courteous enough not to speak her thoughts aloud.

[floating_skull]

Morte takes the opportunity to check her out. He's not hiding it - he can't. Being a floating skull has its disadvantages.

"Not much to mind, is there?" he purrs rhetorically.

[perfectblue]

"On the contrary, there is quite a lot to mind, and you may cease leering at me now. I do not find it flattering." she says, with a stern look.