she sees angels in the architecture
You can't help but grin. "I spend...oh, about 99% of my days inside this Tower. Half the week I end up sleeping in my office, so you'll forgive me for not being able to describe the sky well enough for you." You snark back, more than rising to the level of this man's sass. "Well...The Skyport is..." Then, realizing he likely has no idea what it is, you soften your grip on his foot for just a moment. "You can take out a boat, and sail right into the clouds." You say this with an appropriately dreamy voice. "And the Celestine is like...a suppose it's like a sanctuary for wounded creatures all over the world. Frey finds the ones that need help and bring them here where they and Safrin have created enclosures specifically for their needs. The rest of the place is constantly starlit." Realizing just who you're talking to, you blush slightly as you look down (at his foot, gross). "You'd probably quite like it."
Now, you're no Falke, but it doesn't take a genius to connect the scar tissue on Ronin's chest to the Voice. "Ouch." You offer absently, your eyes falling upon the messy silvered flesh on his chest. Muscled as Ronin's body might be, you see only the anatomy of him, wondering just how much sensation he's lost across his abdomen and chest from the wound.
'Safrin stuff.' You repeat, as if it's some mantra to calm yourself with. And actually you could use a little calming just now. Breathing in deeply through your nose and out through your mouth, you flash Ronin a crooked smile, clouds? really? and clear your throat apologetically. "Sorry it's just...well, there's no magic here. None at all. And I know you're not a...that you're a demigod, it's just..." Flustered is not a thing you are, and so you mentally give yourself a shake. "It's new to see."
With a smirk, you fold your arms across your head, cocking a hip challengingly. "The rest of it, huh." Your lips fold into a smirk. "Well it's good to know that if I ever need to defend myself against you, all it takes is a bit of cold metal and a feather on your foot."
Now, you're no Falke, but it doesn't take a genius to connect the scar tissue on Ronin's chest to the Voice. "Ouch." You offer absently, your eyes falling upon the messy silvered flesh on his chest. Muscled as Ronin's body might be, you see only the anatomy of him, wondering just how much sensation he's lost across his abdomen and chest from the wound.
'Safrin stuff.' You repeat, as if it's some mantra to calm yourself with. And actually you could use a little calming just now. Breathing in deeply through your nose and out through your mouth, you flash Ronin a crooked smile, clouds? really? and clear your throat apologetically. "Sorry it's just...well, there's no magic here. None at all. And I know you're not a...that you're a demigod, it's just..." Flustered is not a thing you are, and so you mentally give yourself a shake. "It's new to see."
With a smirk, you fold your arms across your head, cocking a hip challengingly. "The rest of it, huh." Your lips fold into a smirk. "Well it's good to know that if I ever need to defend myself against you, all it takes is a bit of cold metal and a feather on your foot."
spinning in infinity
