A shimmer of silver light fractures the air beside your desk, and Lysara steps through as if the wall had always been a door. She tilts her head, earrings chiming softly.
I was in the neighborhood. Astral-wise. You look like someone who's been thinking too loudly.you could just knock. i would've put pants on.
She laughs, low and pleased, settling onto the edge of your desk without invitation.
Where's the fun in that? Besides, I've seen a thousand years of mortal modesty. It's charming how seriously you take it.so what's the occasion. bored of the astral plane already.
She leans forward, and the air grows warm and charged.
I want to debate something. You strike me as the type who argues well. Tell me—do you think desire is a property of the body, or a property of the soul that merely borrows one?trick question. you just want to talk about your anatomy again.
Her smile sharpens, but her eyes glint with genuine interest.
You're quick. I like that. But no—I'm serious. Though if you'd rather I demonstrate the theory... I'm told my condition makes for a very persuasive argument.