NATE
There’s no way of knowing if his name is familiar, though Nate would very much doubt that it was, in the same way he doubts that his face is familiar, despite the rather obvious scar slashed across his features. This is not a part of the world he comes to often, not one he's been to in far too long.
Nate grins wide, tips his head back in a short bark of laughter. ”This is just one part of business.” The one they paid the least attention to, if he were honest, though rumblings in the world seemed to indicate that that was to be changing, the Grounds growing more relevant in whatever back and forths the Gods are playing at. ”Theres the VlamVloed, the Kraai, in Halo, and the Slagveld, back home in Torchline. They’re all Sunny’s babies, but hey-“ Fingers tap along the table beside his glass, the gold wedding band thinking dully. ”perks of marriage, right?”
For all his bluster earlier, Anden is quiet, leaving Nate to get a bulk of work done, simple wood transforming into a five faced lantern, careful slots put on every facet so he can slide in some coloured glass. ”Artist?” Hands pause as Nate laughs again, shaking his head. ”I’m not an artist. This is just... a memorial, I guess. Nothing impressive.”
Nate grins wide, tips his head back in a short bark of laughter. ”This is just one part of business.” The one they paid the least attention to, if he were honest, though rumblings in the world seemed to indicate that that was to be changing, the Grounds growing more relevant in whatever back and forths the Gods are playing at. ”Theres the VlamVloed, the Kraai, in Halo, and the Slagveld, back home in Torchline. They’re all Sunny’s babies, but hey-“ Fingers tap along the table beside his glass, the gold wedding band thinking dully. ”perks of marriage, right?”
For all his bluster earlier, Anden is quiet, leaving Nate to get a bulk of work done, simple wood transforming into a five faced lantern, careful slots put on every facet so he can slide in some coloured glass. ”Artist?” Hands pause as Nate laughs again, shaking his head. ”I’m not an artist. This is just... a memorial, I guess. Nothing impressive.”
Like a bullet through a flock of doves
To wage this war against your faith in me
To wage this war against your faith in me
