Safrin
For a moment, Safrin merely looks at Vesper, and though there are questions she could ask, because she is what she is, they would not need to be questions at all. Safrin could reach beneath the careful arrangement of his silence and draw every ugly little thread of it into the candlelight: Colt’s name held like a bruise, the long ache of pride refusing to become need, the inconvenient humanity of wanting and grieving despite all the clever architecture he has built around himself. "Mm," she says simply, as if that small sound is enough to gather all the things she will not pry apart tonight.
Turning toward the altar, Safrin lifts one hand and the opalescent scales ripple as if remembering life, moonlight sliding across them in liquid bands while the delicate length rises from the stone and twists through the air. The skin folds in upon itself, not shrinking so much as becoming more perfectly arranged, its pale shimmer deepening into something stronger, sleeker, and impossibly light. Starlight threads through it like fine wire, binding scale to scale until what hangs before them is no longer an offering but armour, supple and luminous, beautiful enough to be ceremonial and sharp enough not to be mistaken for decoration.
"There," Safrin murmurs, approval finally warming her voice as the armour settles with a faint, silver gleam. "Before you go, there is something else." Her attention returns to him, and this time the tilt of her head carries a different weight, not quite warning and not quite amusement, though both live comfortably in the curve of her mouth. "I have created another demigod, as I am sure you have heard. Flora."
The name is allowed to rest between them for a moment, bright and inconvenient. Safrin watches him through it, well aware of the tangled threads gathered there: Flora, Jack, the old wounds, the fresh humiliations, the quiet resentments no one involved has ever worn as discreetly as they would like to imagine. Then the goddess gives a delicate shrug, as though mortal drama is something she can acknowledge without permitting it to become important enough to obstruct her purposes. "I expect, if necessary, that you will be able to work together?" Her brow lifts, elegant and rhetorical, the question shaped like silk drawn over steel. Whatever answer he might give, Safrin has already placed the expectation where she wants it, and the stars above them burn with the serene confidence of someone who does not often confuse preference with permission.
"And also," she adds, her gaze shifting briefly beyond him, past the barrows and the frost and the dark paths that wind away from the shrine, toward something much farther and less easily named, "there is something strange happening in the Oerwoud." The silver around her seems to cool as she says it, the candleflames drawing themselves thinner beneath the pressure of her attention. "It is worth keeping an eye on."
Vesper has completed his quest and received:
Vernal Viper Snake Skin Armour | Lightweight opalescent armour that, when struck at close range (melee), releases hallucinogenic pollen that causes the attacker to roll with disadvantage on their next turn. Uses Type 1 Stats
Turning toward the altar, Safrin lifts one hand and the opalescent scales ripple as if remembering life, moonlight sliding across them in liquid bands while the delicate length rises from the stone and twists through the air. The skin folds in upon itself, not shrinking so much as becoming more perfectly arranged, its pale shimmer deepening into something stronger, sleeker, and impossibly light. Starlight threads through it like fine wire, binding scale to scale until what hangs before them is no longer an offering but armour, supple and luminous, beautiful enough to be ceremonial and sharp enough not to be mistaken for decoration.
"There," Safrin murmurs, approval finally warming her voice as the armour settles with a faint, silver gleam. "Before you go, there is something else." Her attention returns to him, and this time the tilt of her head carries a different weight, not quite warning and not quite amusement, though both live comfortably in the curve of her mouth. "I have created another demigod, as I am sure you have heard. Flora."
The name is allowed to rest between them for a moment, bright and inconvenient. Safrin watches him through it, well aware of the tangled threads gathered there: Flora, Jack, the old wounds, the fresh humiliations, the quiet resentments no one involved has ever worn as discreetly as they would like to imagine. Then the goddess gives a delicate shrug, as though mortal drama is something she can acknowledge without permitting it to become important enough to obstruct her purposes. "I expect, if necessary, that you will be able to work together?" Her brow lifts, elegant and rhetorical, the question shaped like silk drawn over steel. Whatever answer he might give, Safrin has already placed the expectation where she wants it, and the stars above them burn with the serene confidence of someone who does not often confuse preference with permission.
"And also," she adds, her gaze shifting briefly beyond him, past the barrows and the frost and the dark paths that wind away from the shrine, toward something much farther and less easily named, "there is something strange happening in the Oerwoud." The silver around her seems to cool as she says it, the candleflames drawing themselves thinner beneath the pressure of her attention. "It is worth keeping an eye on."
Vesper has completed his quest and received:
Vernal Viper Snake Skin Armour | Lightweight opalescent armour that, when struck at close range (melee), releases hallucinogenic pollen that causes the attacker to roll with disadvantage on their next turn. Uses Type 1 Stats
