MELITA
Truth be told, she had no idea what complimentary colors were, and had zero knack for anything remotely subtle; so anything positive from her work had been completely coincidental. But she listened, smiling at the notion of her impatience drawing something decent instead of its usual errors, flaws, and miscalculations. “Oh,” she laughed, a warm giggle away from earlier apprehension and distortions, naught claiming her soul but the thought of paintings, canvases, and tapestries containing the soul of their creators; and all the particles laced in between. “That’s a nice way to put it,” and she winked, as if understanding he was trying to make her feel better about her blunders and oversights. She plunged on ahead thereafter too, adding more touches of red to the cliffs, and then switching hues entirely for a segment of brown and sienna, wood of the magical bridge, collected keys, pieces and portions locked away so no one could trespass.The echo of what happened only caused the slightest damper to her mood – eyes still tracing over what remained, here, now, in her thoughts, transferred, as Bastien had said, upon the sketches and outlines. “A false god tricked everyone.” Kisamoa: I am Kaos, no one seeing it, no one hearing it, until it was too late. “Eventually, even our deities couldn’t conquer him. He destroyed everything, and those that survived were plunged into the Rift.” A snarl might have appeared, unbidden, just on the notions and memories alone – she breathed it away, concentrating on the contortions of wood, not allowing any pressing shadows to touch the fibers.
You're all gonna watch me
Disappear into the sun
Disappear into the sun
