Lumindra knows this about him, too, which is why she's speaking entirely aloud. Of course, her voice probably sounds like a giant tolling bell to him right now, but that's magic for you. If he weren't so stubborn they could do this the easy way.
She settles herself on the edge of one of his desks, removing the Token as she goes. Taking it in both hands, she closes her eyes and concentrates.
Cylara did...a very good job. Surprisingly good. Somebody get that Cybunny to a magic school; she's got talent.
Focus.
Cosmos perlaxus, anagio maleire...
Her voice takes on a timbre that he's probably only heard when they're fighting. It's almost like she's echoing herself, two voices coming out of one set of vocal chords. She is tapping her deep magic, and under her regular voice is something as vast and ancient as space itself.
Abiec anadate, perlaxus anadate cosmos noten fertulitum benevact SLOTH! The power behind her voice rings out in the little satellite station, and probably even worse inside the token. If he has ever feared her
( ... )
She smiles to herself, as she felt that quiet sense of feeling somewhat better he had. That right there is the proof of what she just 'said.' Nothing really, permanently changes Dr. Frank Sloth. He eventually rolls with all the punches, and pops up again.
Soon, they're blasting through the atmosphere of Neopia, and she's homed in on Faerie City. It sits twinkling above Mystery Island today, somehow not blocking the copious sunlight the tropical island receives.
That tenuous connection to the Faerie Kingdom is about to be sorely tested.
Soon, she's muttering the words to a spell that will block any view from the inhabitant of her Token. The last thing she needs is to be accused of leading Sloth into the Hidden Tower. Bad enough she brought him here as a baby, really.
There's more general grumbling, then asking if they're just going to go to the throne room and ask for audience with the queen. He's trying to decide if that's going to go over well or not. But then again, Fyora's probably expecting audience with the Space Faerie for a true report on the space war's events.
There's the start of also asking how widespread the news of his defeat is thus far on Neopia, and how much the rest of faeriekind knows of it and the particulars behind his capture, but then Sloth is silent again. Nevermind. Just...nevermind.
~We'll see when we get there. Now hush. I'm going to be busy for a few minutes.~
Then, probably maddeningly for him, the entirety of his prison is muffled in a grey-blue blanket of mist. Worse than that, her presence inside the Token is withdrawn almost completely. Where before there was a sense of warmth, acceptance and being at the very least cherished, it turns into a dank, cold place.
She has removed all of the important parts of herself from there, leaving him alone. The bed vanishes, as does all of his books, food, everything. And time does indeed slow to a crawl.
Well, then. No wonder she begged him to stop emotionally berating her. If she's truly gone from this place, it becomes uninhabitable. He was closer to being 'broken' than he knew. If he'd kept it up much longer, this would have been the permanent result.
It's like everything in his surroundings is slowly bogging to a halt, the colors fading and furniture fading, time almost tangibly oozing instead of flowing.
Sloth is used to gloom; it really is his preferred habitat. He thrived on Neopia, after all, when it was nothing but a world of smog and mud 2,000 years ago. But this is...different. This isn't just a gloomy habitat. This goes deeper than just a lack of light and color.
It makes him uncomfortable. He might even go so far as to say 'afraid' (as last time was an exaggeration, he'd assure you; more like 'intimidated', if that). Though Sloth's positive that it's not really him feeling the encroaching despair.
Sloth would also like to hear an explanation for this, but it seems he can't speak to her anymore. Worrisome, to say the least.
She settles herself on the edge of one of his desks, removing the Token as she goes. Taking it in both hands, she closes her eyes and concentrates.
Cylara did...a very good job. Surprisingly good. Somebody get that Cybunny to a magic school; she's got talent.
Focus.
Cosmos perlaxus, anagio maleire...
Her voice takes on a timbre that he's probably only heard when they're fighting. It's almost like she's echoing herself, two voices coming out of one set of vocal chords. She is tapping her deep magic, and under her regular voice is something as vast and ancient as space itself.
Abiec anadate, perlaxus anadate cosmos noten fertulitum benevact SLOTH!
The power behind her voice rings out in the little satellite station, and probably even worse inside the token. If he has ever feared her ( ... )
Reply
She smiles to herself, as she felt that quiet sense of feeling somewhat better he had. That right there is the proof of what she just 'said.' Nothing really, permanently changes Dr. Frank Sloth. He eventually rolls with all the punches, and pops up again.
Soon, they're blasting through the atmosphere of Neopia, and she's homed in on Faerie City. It sits twinkling above Mystery Island today, somehow not blocking the copious sunlight the tropical island receives.
That tenuous connection to the Faerie Kingdom is about to be sorely tested.
Soon, she's muttering the words to a spell that will block any view from the inhabitant of her Token. The last thing she needs is to be accused of leading Sloth into the Hidden Tower. Bad enough she brought him here as a baby, really.
"Almost there, Frank..."
Reply
There's the start of also asking how widespread the news of his defeat is thus far on Neopia, and how much the rest of faeriekind knows of it and the particulars behind his capture, but then Sloth is silent again. Nevermind. Just...nevermind.
Reply
Then, probably maddeningly for him, the entirety of his prison is muffled in a grey-blue blanket of mist. Worse than that, her presence inside the Token is withdrawn almost completely. Where before there was a sense of warmth, acceptance and being at the very least cherished, it turns into a dank, cold place.
She has removed all of the important parts of herself from there, leaving him alone. The bed vanishes, as does all of his books, food, everything. And time does indeed slow to a crawl.
Well, then. No wonder she begged him to stop emotionally berating her. If she's truly gone from this place, it becomes uninhabitable. He was closer to being 'broken' than he knew. If he'd kept it up much longer, this would have been the permanent result.
So why is she doing it now?
Reply
Sloth is used to gloom; it really is his preferred habitat. He thrived on Neopia, after all, when it was nothing but a world of smog and mud 2,000 years ago. But this is...different. This isn't just a gloomy habitat. This goes deeper than just a lack of light and color.
It makes him uncomfortable. He might even go so far as to say 'afraid' (as last time was an exaggeration, he'd assure you; more like 'intimidated', if that). Though Sloth's positive that it's not really him feeling the encroaching despair.
Sloth would also like to hear an explanation for this, but it seems he can't speak to her anymore. Worrisome, to say the least.
Reply
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