Deimos
Dare we know the halo's hanging low
Incredulous, he arched an innocent brow, and pretended to ignore her antics, opting to forgo that they were vastly similar to his own moments before. Instead, he developed a lofty sort of air, feline-esque, and began to hone in his creative machinations, hands spread, beginning to unfurl the gilded angles and lines of the impending belt. They worked simultaneously, concentration blending and bending, and when he was finished with the initial portions, leaving portions of the onyx belt open to place the obsidian within, he snorted at her indication of missed opportunities. “As long as she is not intending to have any ‘spy’ business here,” recalling, remembering Sunjata’s stupefying guild arrangements, and then all the other platitudes – like fire, thereafter.
He glanced up to watch her progress with the rubies, and the natural snicker volleying forth. Alternating into a curl and wrinkle of his nose, his head tilted vaguely. “You could always do something with invisibility too.”
