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Zyrid sat back down and opened the seven hundredth largest volume of Fire & Other Plasma's from his library, a favorite of his since he decorated its cover with bright living flames and sporadic dancing lights. From his seated position upon his gown he gesture out into the material world with an old pointed toe and a twist of his freckled ankle.
From his big toe, freshly cut and pampered, another ripple shuddered through reality and towards the cigarette he noticed in some mortals mouth, their lungs filling with smoke and the fiery tip ebbing on the edge of flame. As the ripple neared the mortals mouth it shimmered for a brief moment in reality, and in a sudden movement, the cigarette split in half down to its burning middle, as an awkward mouth appeared upon it.
"Now, here is my proposition..." Said Zyrid from within his library, his voice echoing among the books.
The cigarette, under his control, followed his words as best it could.
"Nur herz tha Prepper zition?" The cigarrete stumbled over the words.
"No no!" Zyrid exclaimed in annoyance at the damned cigarettes impudence.
"Nuh nuh!" Continued the cigarette, following Zyrids every word.
With a reluctant sigh, Zyrid lifted his head and pushed aside a strangled grey hair. A look of amusement and frustration upon his face, an expression pointless in existence as the mortal nor cigarette could see it - though none the less he half scowled and smirked to himself all the same.
"Right, can we talk?" Zyrid said calming, pronouncing every syllable as delicately as he could manage. A gentle wince crossed his feature even before the last word left his lips, as he feared another failure of the cigarettes part.
"Rite, can we tack?" It said confidently, and as if to a child.
It would do, Zyrid thought. He slumped back and continued to read with full concentration, flicking threw a hundred pages with every motion of his finger, five times as many pages as he could read while he was trying to teach the cigarette to communicate - for, as always, his eyes had never left the book.
@timelord1101
From his big toe, freshly cut and pampered, another ripple shuddered through reality and towards the cigarette he noticed in some mortals mouth, their lungs filling with smoke and the fiery tip ebbing on the edge of flame. As the ripple neared the mortals mouth it shimmered for a brief moment in reality, and in a sudden movement, the cigarette split in half down to its burning middle, as an awkward mouth appeared upon it.
"Now, here is my proposition..." Said Zyrid from within his library, his voice echoing among the books.
The cigarette, under his control, followed his words as best it could.
"Nur herz tha Prepper zition?" The cigarrete stumbled over the words.
"No no!" Zyrid exclaimed in annoyance at the damned cigarettes impudence.
"Nuh nuh!" Continued the cigarette, following Zyrids every word.
With a reluctant sigh, Zyrid lifted his head and pushed aside a strangled grey hair. A look of amusement and frustration upon his face, an expression pointless in existence as the mortal nor cigarette could see it - though none the less he half scowled and smirked to himself all the same.
"Right, can we talk?" Zyrid said calming, pronouncing every syllable as delicately as he could manage. A gentle wince crossed his feature even before the last word left his lips, as he feared another failure of the cigarettes part.
"Rite, can we tack?" It said confidently, and as if to a child.
It would do, Zyrid thought. He slumped back and continued to read with full concentration, flicking threw a hundred pages with every motion of his finger, five times as many pages as he could read while he was trying to teach the cigarette to communicate - for, as always, his eyes had never left the book.
@timelord1101
