[ Allelujah is in control, so the mana that reaches forth to meet Henry's is not unlike an impression of light. Like shapes of it upon a backdrop of black, an all-encompassing pulse of sheer reflex. It reacts to him, reacts to that blare of mixed color in its own way. Not kind, not entirely aggressive by the virture of not having the body with which to express it.
Not Allelujah, and yet an undeniable part of him. While Henry struggles to word his question, Allelujah similarly struggles to word his answer. ]
no subject
Not Allelujah, and yet an undeniable part of him. While Henry struggles to word his question, Allelujah similarly struggles to word his answer. ]
I'm sorry that I didn't tell you sooner.