REXANNA
paint my spirit gold
Oh, Deimos had told her that he was getting married – and it was such an event that put everything else she had on hold. The exhaustion settled in from the strength the voice had taken from her wouldn’t stop her from attending. Though she had known in advance, able to put together a gift with Bastien’s help that sat within the confines of the Artist’s Sanctuary, something she was incredibly proud of even if her magic had been acting up and things suddenly disappearing. Now, however, she had this crafted in a far more permanent way. Bastien had helped decorate it as well, including the box that it sat in – perhaps a bit over the top but she hopes Deimos knows she’d give them nothing less. And so she focuses on the box that she holds in her hands – two of them specifically – one for each of them to open and browse. She’s dressed in a darker dress, to not take away from the bride and groom, hair pulled back and a dazzling smile accompanying her rather muted exterior.
She has one arm entangled in her husbands as they arrive, both boxes in her other hand, excitement practically vibrating off of her when she spots them. And she beelines straight for them, offering a light box toward Amalia and a kiss to her cheek should the Shield allow it. A darker box offered to Deimos and a tight squeeze of a hug. But of course, before she has a chance to let them open it and figure out what it is themselves, she has to explain it.
It’s pretty genius, if she says so herself.
“I’m so happy for you both, congratulations.” She chimes, glancing over them both before her verdant gaze drops to the boxes. “So, before you ask and say ‘oh no, Rexanna, what is this’ I’ll help.” She hums with a small laugh (perhaps some of Bastien’s dramatics have worn off on her. “In your box, Amalia, you’ll find a little charm of sorts. You can string it on a necklace or a bracelet, whichever you prefer. But it’s a small sword… When held up in the right light, it’ll look like a scythe.” She glances toward Deimos with this, a nod of her head and a wink. “And Deimos, in your box, you’ll find the same. But it’s a shield that might have a bit of a splattering of glowing paint at night. But you’ll see there’s a space on the back of the shield that the sword will fit into.” She leans back a bit with this, clasping her hands together at the clever idea. “The Shield and the Sword. Together, even when apart.”
