they will shake their heads and wag their fingers
by daybreak we'll be gone
It was swiftly becoming apparent to the Ascended that they had what one might call a PR problem. With the Fae especially, though Bastien felt that might be a lost cause. Those in the Hollowed Grounds, though...he felt that a bit of image-tweaking could help there. If there was one thing Bastien was good at, it was anything to be done with images.Of course, Rexanna was not in the best state to be judging sights right now, but that didn't mean he couldn't still ask her opinion. He had wanted to make a series of paintings, one of each God they knew of...including The Voice. The point was not to make her appear more special than any other Deity but to say she was an option as much as they were, a Goddess in her own right, something just as legitimate.
He began to paint one night, shutting the Sanctuary doors for once so it would just be him and his wife. Sometimes, that was all he wanted. With quiet music playing on the thought player and as always with Bastien, there was some wine to be had. Beginning with the painting of The Voice, he asked: "Do you think she is more of a golden colour, or a lemon yellow? Perhaps more like the sun's glow...ah, but then sometimes I feel she is blue. What colour would you use to describe our Lady Voice?"
BASTIEN
