[ The replica had expected the outcome of his sacrifice to be a little more permanent. The unknown was still the unknown and he was prepared, knowing that he had left behind a way to finally fulfill his promise to one very special person. That he had finally made something out of his mediocre existence as a replica. Out of anything he could have expected, he didn't anticipate waking to the sensation of crystals pricking his skin on all sides with a physical body of his own to feel it with in the first place. Or... waking up at all.
Blinking slowly at the alien landscape once he finally got up, the first comment he could even consider making was a sleep-rusty: ]
What the heck?
[ An unoriginal response from an unoriginal copy.
It hadn't taken him long at all to realize he wasn't wearing so much as a stitch and after some alarmed glances around only to find that he was fortunately alone, he summoned his Darkness, letting it wrap his body in the dark armor he was more accustomed to. It meant that there was nothing to spare his modesty should he find himself incapable of calling on his powers or lost consciousness.
In the meantime it also means he's at least clothed, covered from chin to toes in that rubbery dark bodysuit with its peculiar tattered cloth around the back at hip level. This is also one heck of a way to meet someone for the first time, when a man comes striding out from behind a crystalline cluster.
The replica looks because that seems to be a thing that happens to everyone who accidentally sees what they didn't mean to see. The replica might have him on height, but when it comes to build they seem evenly matched. This unarmed man is someone who probably knows his way around a fight.
Shoulders rising and falling in an internal sigh of annoyance. This might as well happen. He starts to turn away, gloved fingers flicking his silver hair out of his eyes. ]
Figure it out yourself. I'm not your friend.
[ The replica is in the same boat, mostly, which may be why he stops to reconsider his reply. ]
On Iris
Blinking slowly at the alien landscape once he finally got up, the first comment he could even consider making was a sleep-rusty: ]
What the heck?
[ An unoriginal response from an unoriginal copy.
It hadn't taken him long at all to realize he wasn't wearing so much as a stitch and after some alarmed glances around only to find that he was fortunately alone, he summoned his Darkness, letting it wrap his body in the dark armor he was more accustomed to. It meant that there was nothing to spare his modesty should he find himself incapable of calling on his powers or lost consciousness.
In the meantime it also means he's at least clothed, covered from chin to toes in that rubbery dark bodysuit with its peculiar tattered cloth around the back at hip level. This is also one heck of a way to meet someone for the first time, when a man comes striding out from behind a crystalline cluster.
The replica looks because that seems to be a thing that happens to everyone who accidentally sees what they didn't mean to see. The replica might have him on height, but when it comes to build they seem evenly matched. This unarmed man is someone who probably knows his way around a fight.
Shoulders rising and falling in an internal sigh of annoyance. This might as well happen. He starts to turn away, gloved fingers flicking his silver hair out of his eyes. ]
Figure it out yourself. I'm not your friend.
[ The replica is in the same boat, mostly, which may be why he stops to reconsider his reply. ]