( is he old? god, who knows anymore. he feels old sometimes. and sometimes he feels like time went backwards and he's back to being a clueless whelp, on his way to prakra to study medicine because he wanted to help the sick and dying, to save lives like he couldn't—mm. whatever, never mind. his smile goes crooked as it often does now, but he lifts his chin and peels his eyes open after a moment. magic? did he mention that?

oh. oh yeah. )

Ah... yeah, that's right. That's another thing I learned the night of the Masquerade. Before everything went pear-shaped, that is. I'm a magician, if you can believe it.

( a pause for grand effect—and then his shoulders jump. the "laugh" he lets out sounds more like it could've come from malak rather than his own mouth, a pitched caw by any other name. )

I'll be honest: I didn't practice very much. But in those... days, or weeks, or whatever it was when I still had fight left in me, I worked out a few tricks. Who would've thought you can do science and witchcraft all with the same mind, hmm? Not that it did me much good in the end. Without a proper teacher, I was never going to be powerful enough to take on the Devil. Don't know why I bothered, really. Desperation, maybe. Haven't done it since I became... this, so I've got no idea if I still can or not.