[This was a lot. As Hythlodaeus explains, his mind shoots off twenty questions for each point. More worry, more stress, more anxious knots twisting in his stomach. His chest tightening like a vice, and likewise does his hold on Hythlodaeus. Not enough to smother him into his tiddies bosom, but it would still be a struggle to get free.
So many times does he want to cut in, stop Hythlodaeus where he's at and ask more questions, or yell his indignation at such happenings. But he doesn't. He's silent and still. His anger twists painfully in his chest the more he thinks over the fact that Tyler was messing with Hythlodaeus' mind, with his memories... That he would trespass like that, that he would dare to trifle with aught so personal. The rest helps nothing, but it is far more understandable, as annoying as it is to be objective in this situation.
Yet his mind keeps going back to it the hypnotism, rehashing the words, swirling them around in his head like debris in a whirlwind. And to think that Steven would—wait.
What?
Hades looks down at Hythlodaeus, pulling back enough to look at him. His anger is still there, but his surprise holds it at bay to ask one simple, horrifying question:]
...How many did you take, Hythlodaeus?
[That. That would explain a lot about his behavior, and the icy grip of dread grasps his chest so tightly, that it stops the raging tempest within. His blood turning to ice as he dreads the answer Hythlodaeus might not even be able to give.]
no subject
tiddiesbosom, but it would still be a struggle to get free.So many times does he want to cut in, stop Hythlodaeus where he's at and ask more questions, or yell his indignation at such happenings. But he doesn't. He's silent and still. His anger twists painfully in his chest the more he thinks over the fact that Tyler was messing with Hythlodaeus' mind, with his memories... That he would trespass like that, that he would dare to trifle with aught so personal. The rest helps nothing, but it is far more understandable, as annoying as it is to be objective in this situation.
Yet his mind keeps going back to it the hypnotism, rehashing the words, swirling them around in his head like debris in a whirlwind. And to think that Steven would—wait.
What?
Hades looks down at Hythlodaeus, pulling back enough to look at him. His anger is still there, but his surprise holds it at bay to ask one simple, horrifying question:]
...How many did you take, Hythlodaeus?
[That. That would explain a lot about his behavior, and the icy grip of dread grasps his chest so tightly, that it stops the raging tempest within. His blood turning to ice as he dreads the answer Hythlodaeus might not even be able to give.]