Thinking about it.
[The old Russian does not stink of the Underworld this time, his lip curled as he surveys the damned school with a cold skim (familiarity covered everything else the eye did not). He has to be amazed at himself, at his ability to navigate through ... everything. That was what trundling up and down Possibility and What Is There is like. The Devil used to do that, right? And to think, he and his Hell had been none the wiser!
... Or he could be simply damned in the respect of being forced to wander, like a wawkalak. There... is that.
In all scenarios, he was still quite dead, and the novelty of standing there, doing nothing, in the silence of the forest without a single pulse of blood throbbing in his ears had run out. No heartbeat meant no electricity and made him a lump of creeping rot, and here he is standing in front of the damned school as a cold, animated corpse. If he wasn't there, he could... simply leave, retreat in to the warmth of the other Planes before his heavy corpse settled and he decomposed. See if he was... somewhere else.
If he was, that little silver-haired nymph, well, this was going to be a problem.
A risk. His whole life, death, and everything was risk after risk.]
... Or he could be simply damned in the respect of being forced to wander, like a wawkalak. There... is that.
In all scenarios, he was still quite dead, and the novelty of standing there, doing nothing, in the silence of the forest without a single pulse of blood throbbing in his ears had run out. No heartbeat meant no electricity and made him a lump of creeping rot, and here he is standing in front of the damned school as a cold, animated corpse. If he wasn't there, he could... simply leave, retreat in to the warmth of the other Planes before his heavy corpse settled and he decomposed. See if he was... somewhere else.
If he was, that little silver-haired nymph, well, this was going to be a problem.
A risk. His whole life, death, and everything was risk after risk.]