Seraphina
the artificer
i'm not a slave, i won't be guided to a grave in
a masquerade, you'll hide your face
a masquerade, you'll hide your face
“Oh are you?” She asks with a feline grin, delight spreading across her features as she looks at him a bit more carefully. She’s sure Levi and Locke would get along easily, given the idea of tasty snacks as bribes. It shouldn’t be a problem at all.
Excitement only blossoms more at the mention of Torchline though, dark brows rising as her grin grows a bit more intrigued. “Oh, you’re from Torchline.” She lets the name roll off her tongue easily, her head tilting a fraction as she moves out of the way of him to take the shot. “I’m sure you have incredible stories.” Likely so much better than her own, after all.
Delight spreads through her features again as she dips her head in agreement. “I’ll even make it two if I get to hear a tale.” Her grin turns a fraction sharp as she regards him, watching the punch as it’s thrown, hearing the crack.
A snicker leaves her at the ultimate decision of advice he has to give her and she nods her head in agreement. “Ah, well, that I can do.” She steps closer to him, peering at the hand he’d used to punch the dummy. “Is your hand okay?” She asks, extending a hand as if to inspect it better should he place his in hers.
Excitement only blossoms more at the mention of Torchline though, dark brows rising as her grin grows a bit more intrigued. “Oh, you’re from Torchline.” She lets the name roll off her tongue easily, her head tilting a fraction as she moves out of the way of him to take the shot. “I’m sure you have incredible stories.” Likely so much better than her own, after all.
Delight spreads through her features again as she dips her head in agreement. “I’ll even make it two if I get to hear a tale.” Her grin turns a fraction sharp as she regards him, watching the punch as it’s thrown, hearing the crack.
A snicker leaves her at the ultimate decision of advice he has to give her and she nods her head in agreement. “Ah, well, that I can do.” She steps closer to him, peering at the hand he’d used to punch the dummy. “Is your hand okay?” She asks, extending a hand as if to inspect it better should he place his in hers.
you got it out for me, like strangers in the night
holding close their sharpened knives
holding close their sharpened knives
