[Matoba's head knocks against the wall behind him, gripping his hand with straight-faced suppression, jaw locked. Now they are both in pain, and where has it gotten them? At least he got to see something interesting.]
[It is interesting, at least. He isn't bored. The wizard does not die, for as long as he is burned alive. It was a magical fire, but what could put it out, if not magic? Matoba's watery eye watches the flames lick and smoulder over Shylock's shirt, until at last the flames begin to recede inward like a dying fire, and soon there is only the glowing light glittering at his chest, no acrid smoke.]
[Ayakashi were such sturdy things that could endure such amounts of torture; normally that was understandable, as their forms were hardly fully corporeal. But for a flesh and blood spirit such as Shylock, it was surprising that despite the pain, he simply persisted.]
[After a long while of them sitting there, Shylock's heart down to embers and Matoba nursing his pain with a surprising amount of stoicism, he looks upon the wizard again.]
Just what did you do... to earn the hatred of the moon? This calamity of yours.
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[Matoba's head knocks against the wall behind him, gripping his hand with straight-faced suppression, jaw locked. Now they are both in pain, and where has it gotten them? At least he got to see something interesting.]
[It is interesting, at least. He isn't bored. The wizard does not die, for as long as he is burned alive. It was a magical fire, but what could put it out, if not magic? Matoba's watery eye watches the flames lick and smoulder over Shylock's shirt, until at last the flames begin to recede inward like a dying fire, and soon there is only the glowing light glittering at his chest, no acrid smoke.]
[Ayakashi were such sturdy things that could endure such amounts of torture; normally that was understandable, as their forms were hardly fully corporeal. But for a flesh and blood spirit such as Shylock, it was surprising that despite the pain, he simply persisted.]
[After a long while of them sitting there, Shylock's heart down to embers and Matoba nursing his pain with a surprising amount of stoicism, he looks upon the wizard again.]
Just what did you do... to earn the hatred of the moon? This calamity of yours.