Glancing back and forth between Alys and Erebos, because the former was contemplating, and the latter was getting banana everywhere, his head tilted in fragments and thoughts, silent in the Abandoned’s considerations. “Depends on your preferences.” Gold, silver, bronze, the metals and elements were all simplistic to create – as was anything else that wove into aesthetics. And Deimos knew that while he was Spartan in his décor options, others were not.
So he began to sketch a few out along the parchment, in various ranges, styles, and sizes – gilded proportions, argent lengths, copper infused highlights. Even a few others with ornamental ease; pieces of metal that came together like luxere antlers, or others inlaid with ursur paws, and some portions where he could recall her tarot cards and symbols. While they weren’t every representation of Alys, it might give her some ideas and notions regarding partialities and predilections. Every so often, he’d cease entirely, letting her peruse and glance over.
So he began to sketch a few out along the parchment, in various ranges, styles, and sizes – gilded proportions, argent lengths, copper infused highlights. Even a few others with ornamental ease; pieces of metal that came together like luxere antlers, or others inlaid with ursur paws, and some portions where he could recall her tarot cards and symbols. While they weren’t every representation of Alys, it might give her some ideas and notions regarding partialities and predilections. Every so often, he’d cease entirely, letting her peruse and glance over.
deimos
Never let them drain the river of your soul
