That's true. Both childlike and childish at times. He may be a mature adult, but there's a small part of Zack that's always remained as a ten-year-old child, at his time of death.
He does grin at that. Being kept in a jar would be boring as... well, Zack isn't over acquainted with boredom, but he does have some idea.
"Okay." He drops the bead back into his palm and stares at it a bit before finally closing his fist. He's not preternaturally strong, but Zack is a little stronger than an average mortal man. He figures that the bead is meant to be broken fairly easily though. His fist tightens and the bead breaks into tiny pieces.
For a moment there's nothing and Zack glances at Alec to see if he's done it right.. but then, very quickly, he can feel a drawing sensation somewhere at the back of his mind. In his head, but in his thoughts too... It increases steadily, and Zack grits his teeth. It does make his head hurt but in a different kind of way. It's sort of clean pain one feels when a thorn is removed from flesh, or of a tumour being cut away.
His entire dust form alters and shimmers like sand. It's still Zack-shaped, but it becomes a humanoid figure composed entirely of ash and grit, and what passes for sand or dirt. it feels like the spell is working on his spirit, the part of him that holds the dust-body together; because after all, that's where the pain is.
Dust has no nerve-endings. It can't feel things.
It attracts curious glances from the other people in the restaurant, but apparently magic is nothing new here. Finally... it really really HURTS... and Zack snarls with the pain...
...until suddenly, there's a harsh tightening, followed by a sense of release.
His illusionary skin and surface bodyparts return to their usual state, apart from the one noticeable thing. Zack sits here now without his warpaint. It shows his features more clearly. He looks exactly like any ordinary human, apart from his unnaturally blue eyes.
But there's no more pain.
"That didn't feel so good," he mutters, studying Alec's reactions. "But better now.. I think?"
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He does grin at that. Being kept in a jar would be boring as... well, Zack isn't over acquainted with boredom, but he does have some idea.
"Okay." He drops the bead back into his palm and stares at it a bit before finally closing his fist. He's not preternaturally strong, but Zack is a little stronger than an average mortal man. He figures that the bead is meant to be broken fairly easily though. His fist tightens and the bead breaks into tiny pieces.
For a moment there's nothing and Zack glances at Alec to see if he's done it right.. but then, very quickly, he can feel a drawing sensation somewhere at the back of his mind. In his head, but in his thoughts too... It increases steadily, and Zack grits his teeth. It does make his head hurt but in a different kind of way. It's sort of clean pain one feels when a thorn is removed from flesh, or of a tumour being cut away.
His entire dust form alters and shimmers like sand. It's still Zack-shaped, but it becomes a humanoid figure composed entirely of ash and grit, and what passes for sand or dirt. it feels like the spell is working on his spirit, the part of him that holds the dust-body together; because after all, that's where the pain is.
Dust has no nerve-endings. It can't feel things.
It attracts curious glances from the other people in the restaurant, but apparently magic is nothing new here. Finally... it really really HURTS... and Zack snarls with the pain...
...until suddenly, there's a harsh tightening, followed by a sense of release.
His illusionary skin and surface bodyparts return to their usual state, apart from the one noticeable thing. Zack sits here now without his warpaint. It shows his features more clearly. He looks exactly like any ordinary human, apart from his unnaturally blue eyes.
But there's no more pain.
"That didn't feel so good," he mutters, studying Alec's reactions. "But better now.. I think?"