Seraphina
the artificer
it's cold, it's dark, it's deep and it's wet
and you ain't gonna make it if you don't let someone in
and you ain't gonna make it if you don't let someone in
His surprise is something that Sera immediately relishes in, releasing him to have him glare at her. She lets it roll of her with ease, though her grin doesn’t falter from it’s sharp edge. It only does as she turns back to Amalia, checking in to make sure that the Archangel is okay. From this distance, however, Sera can’t hear the conversation that happens behind them. Amalia does, however, and it’s evident as her lips part and she’s prepared to say something, when suddenly Amalia is gone.
She can hear the words leave the Archangel as she whirls in her seat, moving to stand and approach the group. Her arms fold across her chest – nowhere near close to denying Amalia’s request for the man to apologize. She half wonders if the one that the Archangel has grabbed has pissed his pants. In fact, she looks him up and down to see if he indeed has.
In this time he’s stuttering, panicking, the men with him begin to try and depart and Sera slips in beside Amalia toward the man’s face, suddenly sweating in his fear. “I wouldn’t fuck with her if I were you.” She murmurs sweetly, reaching forward to smooth his collar with a half smirk. She still doesn’t know what the group had said, but she trusts Amalia’s choice in the matter.
Luckily for her, though, the man stutters before he offers his apology, slurring between the alcohol and his panic, unsure if the demigod of Vi would actually end up hurting him or not. He doesn’t want to take a chance, though, and Sera’s content to bow her head in an easy acceptance. “Thank you!”
She can hear the words leave the Archangel as she whirls in her seat, moving to stand and approach the group. Her arms fold across her chest – nowhere near close to denying Amalia’s request for the man to apologize. She half wonders if the one that the Archangel has grabbed has pissed his pants. In fact, she looks him up and down to see if he indeed has.
In this time he’s stuttering, panicking, the men with him begin to try and depart and Sera slips in beside Amalia toward the man’s face, suddenly sweating in his fear. “I wouldn’t fuck with her if I were you.” She murmurs sweetly, reaching forward to smooth his collar with a half smirk. She still doesn’t know what the group had said, but she trusts Amalia’s choice in the matter.
Luckily for her, though, the man stutters before he offers his apology, slurring between the alcohol and his panic, unsure if the demigod of Vi would actually end up hurting him or not. He doesn’t want to take a chance, though, and Sera’s content to bow her head in an easy acceptance. “Thank you!”
darlin', darlin', why don't you sleep at night?
the colder the heart, the warmer the gun
the colder the heart, the warmer the gun
