[Lif had been simple man, prior to all of this. Resummoned by Ganglot, she granted him a weapon that was certainly one of the most powerful of Hel's weapons in Éljúðnir, with the intention of eradicating Eir and what little remains of the realm of Ymir. It was to be a simple task, but one that Lif would see through in order to gain power to fell the gods.
And then, it seemed that fate had once again brought him in a new direction; under the employ of the summoner, the Askrans, alongside...him.
Hubert von Vestra. It felt like a twist of fate straight from Hel's playbook that he had been summoned alongside the dark mage general of the Adrestian Empire, to be summoned alongside him again...it sparks memories. Memories that Lif had wanted to avoid for so long, that he had kept playing over and over again in his mind. But it was useless; all of these feelings were useless, because he was a being without feeling now. Whether or not that was a complete and utter lie was irrelevant; he could not, would not let his feelings for a man who was long gone from this world distract him from his goal of bringing the gods low.
Even so, the summoner made them work alongside each other. It was foolish, really, even if from a tactical standpoint the strategy was sound. Lif was a duelist, and Hubert was a shadow; so long as they played to each other's strengths, they could work just fine with the others. Time and time again, Lif had raced in to save Hubert from what would be likely devastating blows, if not outright death. It was tactically sound. It wasn't his feelings for a man who had been long gone coming to the surface again, and Lif would deny it at any turn. He didn't even remember anyway, and he was just playing his part. That's all it was. That's all it had to be.
Lif doesn't sleep very easily; he's like a wraith stalking the halls, the library, and anywhere that needs protecting. It's likely that Hubert is going to have to search up and down, but it's when he hits the library that, well...]
You're up rather late, Vestra.
[Lif's voice comes from behind Hubert--one might wonder how he gets away with constantly appearing out of nowhere, and to that I say, I don't have to explain shit--but Lif's gaze settles on Hubert, leaning against a bookshelf as he studies the man in front of him.]
For someone who nearly met death today, you seem apt not to rest.
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And then, it seemed that fate had once again brought him in a new direction; under the employ of the summoner, the Askrans, alongside...him.
Hubert von Vestra. It felt like a twist of fate straight from Hel's playbook that he had been summoned alongside the dark mage general of the Adrestian Empire, to be summoned alongside him again...it sparks memories. Memories that Lif had wanted to avoid for so long, that he had kept playing over and over again in his mind. But it was useless; all of these feelings were useless, because he was a being without feeling now. Whether or not that was a complete and utter lie was irrelevant; he could not, would not let his feelings for a man who was long gone from this world distract him from his goal of bringing the gods low.
Even so, the summoner made them work alongside each other. It was foolish, really, even if from a tactical standpoint the strategy was sound. Lif was a duelist, and Hubert was a shadow; so long as they played to each other's strengths, they could work just fine with the others. Time and time again, Lif had raced in to save Hubert from what would be likely devastating blows, if not outright death. It was tactically sound. It wasn't his feelings for a man who had been long gone coming to the surface again, and Lif would deny it at any turn. He didn't even remember anyway, and he was just playing his part. That's all it was. That's all it had to be.
Lif doesn't sleep very easily; he's like a wraith stalking the halls, the library, and anywhere that needs protecting. It's likely that Hubert is going to have to search up and down, but it's when he hits the library that, well...]
You're up rather late, Vestra.
[Lif's voice comes from behind Hubert--one might wonder how he gets away with constantly appearing out of nowhere, and to that I say, I don't have to explain shit--but Lif's gaze settles on Hubert, leaning against a bookshelf as he studies the man in front of him.]
For someone who nearly met death today, you seem apt not to rest.