the devil is not as black as he is painted
The constellations drawn into the stones as well as the light from Jyoti's lantern flickered softly and warmly. If petrichor had a colour, a rich periwinkle perhaps, that would have been the colour of the cloak wrapped around Safrin's body as she appeared silently before them. With a face quite pale, galactic eyes sunken in her skull, the goddess' ephemeral beauty was painfully lacking. For as exquisite as she was, she did not wear her crown of death and decay well.
Pulling her shawl of starlight and midnight tighter around her shoulders, the goddess smiled warmly at Adam before casting a softly amused glance towards Amalia. "I do have Amalia." Safrin agreed. "But a handsome face is always welcome." She purred, stretching out a hand to softly stroke the side of Adam's cheek with a sultry wink. Dying as she was, Safrin was as vain as ever. It had been the reason she'd almost not come, not wanting her followers to see her in such a reduced state. But being seen was better than not, after all.
Wiping away a teardrop of pure black, Safrin's body glimmered slightly and the fields behind could easily be seen through her.
Pulling her shawl of starlight and midnight tighter around her shoulders, the goddess smiled warmly at Adam before casting a softly amused glance towards Amalia. "I do have Amalia." Safrin agreed. "But a handsome face is always welcome." She purred, stretching out a hand to softly stroke the side of Adam's cheek with a sultry wink. Dying as she was, Safrin was as vain as ever. It had been the reason she'd almost not come, not wanting her followers to see her in such a reduced state. But being seen was better than not, after all.
Wiping away a teardrop of pure black, Safrin's body glimmered slightly and the fields behind could easily be seen through her.
