[In the quiet stretch of abandoned street that Liem is traversing, the pale, softly-moving figure ahead of him stands out like a ghost under a street lamp. He turns toward the movement, approaching alertly, and hazards a call toward them even as he notes the white hair and feathered wings stretching from the figure.]
Excuse me—wait a moment, please.
[By this time he’s familiar with the bleaching that seems to affect those most afflicted by the sickness, and he isn’t necessarily expecting a response. But when he spies the object of Kaeya’s interest, an unattended flame the man is wandering straight towards, Liem breaks from a brisk trot into a run. He hastens across the street as the afflicted man approaches the flame, skidding to a halt beside him and snatching his raised hand just as he’s reaching it toward the glowing heat.]
Not today, sir, [he pants sternly, pushing Kaeya’s wrist down again. He steadies his shoulder with his other hand, just in case the man was thinking of diving face-first into the glow.]
no subject
Excuse me—wait a moment, please.
[By this time he’s familiar with the bleaching that seems to affect those most afflicted by the sickness, and he isn’t necessarily expecting a response. But when he spies the object of Kaeya’s interest, an unattended flame the man is wandering straight towards, Liem breaks from a brisk trot into a run. He hastens across the street as the afflicted man approaches the flame, skidding to a halt beside him and snatching his raised hand just as he’s reaching it toward the glowing heat.]
Not today, sir, [he pants sternly, pushing Kaeya’s wrist down again. He steadies his shoulder with his other hand, just in case the man was thinking of diving face-first into the glow.]
Talk to me instead. Have you your wits about you?