Ask Forgiveness, Beg Permission

"Mmm." Safrin mused thoughtfully, the lights falling softly to a warm and cozy blackness broken only by a halo of light that seemed to emanate from the goddess. "It isn't the same dear one, more the concept...But we shall see. I am not so old that I cannot be surprised." Listening intently with eyes like a predator watching its helpless victim scurry back and forth, Safrin smiled sweetly. "How much I have grown to enjoy the sound of your voice, darling one." She purred, lashes fluttering with the secrets of the cosmos. For a moment tension was rife in the air, her insipid phrasing perhaps suggesting.... Her smile widened. "But you must go where your strengths are, as you say. Besides, anyone taken by Frey—" Safrin tutted and shook her head, clear displeasure and disapproval writ clearly on her exquisite features. "—I would not waste your pretty words on them." "Offend?" Safrin mused, her head shaking gently sending a cascade of starshine down her luxurious hair to fall into her lap and onto the floor. "No dear one, your initiative is impressive and I do not doubt your church will be the place of artistic freedom that you envision. Perhaps this will help—" Raising a hand, a candle appeared in her palm. It was tall and slender but did not appear made out of wax, but instead was dark and shimmered with an eternity of minuscule points of starlight. When lit it would bathe the room in a sultry and soft darkness rather than light, and stars would appear to shine across the surfaces providing a gently glow. Safrin The devil is not as black as he is painted