"Of course," he replies, the grin breaking free, but his gaze on the man before him is sharp, assessing. How this one came to be in possession of his notes, notes that he'd long since destroyed, was something to be investigated. "The grandmaster of demonic cultivation, scourge of Qishan, deflowerer of virgins and all that nonsense. I assume this is what you intended, at least. Although-"
When he feels something flake away from his face, he pauses, holds his hand out in front of him. A strange sense of dissonance settles over him, his skin prickling. This is definitely not his hand - it's too small, the skin too pale and lacking the subtle scars that should be there, the products of many a failed invention.
The palm is also covered in powder and rouge. More crumbles away when he rubs his cheeks, frowning, before a thought occurs to him. It made perfect sense that this form wasn't his own - after all, he'd been entirely ripped apart, and one couldn't create something out of nothing. However, if the the one who had performed the body sacrificing ritual was still present, soul intact, and Wei Wuxian wasn't occupying his body, then it was obvious something had gone horribly wrong that even he himself couldn't have foreseen.
Just how wrong, though, was the question.
Even though the dwelling they're in, if it could be called that, is little more than a dilapidated shack, he figures it can't hurt to ask. "Is there a mirror, young master summoner?" he inquires of the man before him, his tone about a hair shy of being truly mocking. "I'd like to see something for myself."
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When he feels something flake away from his face, he pauses, holds his hand out in front of him. A strange sense of dissonance settles over him, his skin prickling. This is definitely not his hand - it's too small, the skin too pale and lacking the subtle scars that should be there, the products of many a failed invention.
The palm is also covered in powder and rouge. More crumbles away when he rubs his cheeks, frowning, before a thought occurs to him. It made perfect sense that this form wasn't his own - after all, he'd been entirely ripped apart, and one couldn't create something out of nothing. However, if the the one who had performed the body sacrificing ritual was still present, soul intact, and Wei Wuxian wasn't occupying his body, then it was obvious something had gone horribly wrong that even he himself couldn't have foreseen.
Just how wrong, though, was the question.
Even though the dwelling they're in, if it could be called that, is little more than a dilapidated shack, he figures it can't hurt to ask. "Is there a mirror, young master summoner?" he inquires of the man before him, his tone about a hair shy of being truly mocking. "I'd like to see something for myself."