[The ring gets a glance, one that does not linger because it doesn't have to. The level of detail L keeps in his memory is not typically reliant on study and examination; otherwise, there simply couldn't be enough time in the world.]
Based on the knowledge and experiences accrued the last time... getting hurt is virtually an inevitability. I'd set the odds at a 95% likelihood.
[He says that with a totally straight face, no sign of a joke or hyperbole for miles.]
...that being said. The odds for a serious injury, not even a life-threatening one, are far lower, at a 3% likelihood. They only increase if the source of your injury traps or impedes you in some way and prevents you from getting to the door, but... don't worry, there's a contingency plan in place for that possibility, as well.
[He takes the vial to the sky well; the blood inside turns silver almost immediately. He removes it, pouring the mixture into a small round mold. When he opens it, a glowing stone sits there, a misty opal with silver and golden flecks that seem to move.
He stares, picking up on that odd note in Paul's question.]
We're doing this; it's in motion. That's not the case, ever, unless I'm sure.
[He sets the stone down between them, lighting a bit of incense next to it. Sage.]
I can write this down if you need it, but this isn't like a set of vows. The order of it doesn't matter, so long as we both say the words, so it's alright if you just repeat what I say.
[The words are slow, clear, richly accented.]
Sheffol isk na Soothchak. Vor mast iske; silakomsi, jakast seechyen pana lohpiskal. Pana jakart watten soothvis, chorlvis, net lehntarvis avie knoch, mefahr, net mistra silakomsa. Avanchorl; avanpiskal. Visanthranosk, jakares saa.
no subject
Based on the knowledge and experiences accrued the last time... getting hurt is virtually an inevitability. I'd set the odds at a 95% likelihood.
[He says that with a totally straight face, no sign of a joke or hyperbole for miles.]
...that being said. The odds for a serious injury, not even a life-threatening one, are far lower, at a 3% likelihood. They only increase if the source of your injury traps or impedes you in some way and prevents you from getting to the door, but... don't worry, there's a contingency plan in place for that possibility, as well.
[He takes the vial to the sky well; the blood inside turns silver almost immediately. He removes it, pouring the mixture into a small round mold. When he opens it, a glowing stone sits there, a misty opal with silver and golden flecks that seem to move.
He stares, picking up on that odd note in Paul's question.]
We're doing this; it's in motion. That's not the case, ever, unless I'm sure.
[He sets the stone down between them, lighting a bit of incense next to it. Sage.]
I can write this down if you need it, but this isn't like a set of vows. The order of it doesn't matter, so long as we both say the words, so it's alright if you just repeat what I say.
[The words are slow, clear, richly accented.]
Sheffol isk na Soothchak. Vor mast iske; silakomsi, jakast seechyen pana lohpiskal. Pana jakart watten soothvis, chorlvis, net lehntarvis avie knoch, mefahr, net mistra silakomsa. Avanchorl; avanpiskal. Visanthranosk, jakares saa.