[Like his mind isn't already blown. And with every touch, with every gentle waft of psionic energy, the sensations just build and build, and Dualscar is long past speech, past contributing, just clinging to Artollo with everything he has.]
[Until he doesn't have anything left, and with a long, low cry, its frequency so low it sets the books trembling on their shelves, Dualscar erupts, spraying them both with purple before collapsing bonelessly backwards, completely spent.]
no subject
[Until he doesn't have anything left, and with a long, low cry, its frequency so low it sets the books trembling on their shelves, Dualscar erupts, spraying them both with purple before collapsing bonelessly backwards, completely spent.]