neron
Bastien will not have to try for sympathy; there is a definite darkening of the Hailstorm’s expression as Rexanna is brought up, and he nods to his fellow Ascended. ”She introduced me to the Grounds, and I reciprocated with Halo, when I was Warden and she was Queen,” he explains. ”She was a remarkable woman, and I was sorry to hear that she had been killed.” Because Rexanna had not died, in Neron’s opinion. It had not been a natural cause.
But there is more to speak of, and the artist has certainly garnered Neron’s attention. He sips at his wine as he listens, sharp gaze intrigued, though as it all clicks neatly into place - convince Morgan to let the Ascended build their holy temple in Halo - he almost snorts into his glass. ”My relationship to the Glacier is complex to say the least. I am still not entirely sure that she doesn’t mean to exile me or burn me at a stake.” He shakes his head.
However, that doesn’t mean that it will stop him. ”I will certainly be a delicate conversation.” Sweetening the deal, though? That would certainly help to grease his wheels. ”I’m listening.”
But there is more to speak of, and the artist has certainly garnered Neron’s attention. He sips at his wine as he listens, sharp gaze intrigued, though as it all clicks neatly into place - convince Morgan to let the Ascended build their holy temple in Halo - he almost snorts into his glass. ”My relationship to the Glacier is complex to say the least. I am still not entirely sure that she doesn’t mean to exile me or burn me at a stake.” He shakes his head.
However, that doesn’t mean that it will stop him. ”I will certainly be a delicate conversation.” Sweetening the deal, though? That would certainly help to grease his wheels. ”I’m listening.”
you're so cold, put your hand in mine
