(Untitled)

[mrmoneypenny]

More reading.

Reading reading reading.

Ironically, on all the fae-related stories he can find in his collection. Fortunately, they were a rather common topic during some time frames.

Comments

[broodingbacchus]

Imriel is very cheerful when he unlocks the door and enters.

He's also...

...unattractive?

The hell?

(And pretty clearly hasn't noticed. Nobody's this sanguine about something like that.)

[mrmoneypenny]

And Villiers turns, expecting to see his darling lover, and-

-is instead confronted by the face of a stranger.

There is, at least, a bit of alarm. He stands, proper.

"Excuse me, how do you have a key to this room?"

[broodingbacchus]

Imriel folds his arms and gives Villiers a look.

The fluid D'Angeline grace is the same. The expression-- exasperation with a hint of sarcasm-- is pure Imriel. Even the shape of his face hasn't changed. What differs is only surface details, in the end.

"How do you think, love?"

Oh, and the voice. He retains his voice, thank you.

[mrmoneypenny]

A moment of confusion.

Because, yes, features look the same. Yet features also do not. Mannerisms seem familiar, yet the beauty, that flawless beauty-

It's his voice that confirms it for Villiers, and he walks forward worriedly.

"Imri..."

Hands go up to Imriel's face, brushing across a cheek that has lost its ethereal beauty, faded lips and dulled skin. He's normal. Like himself.

"You angered her, didn't you? La Belle Dame sans Merci..."