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
There’s confirmation in Cian’s words, and Sera nods lightly – enough that her dark hair bounces around her shoulders as she watches Cian – far bolder this time around than the last few times here. She sips from her glass as he watches her, as his laugh colors the air around them, as it melts with the logs crackling in the fireplace. “A crafter can never be too careful. It’s why I’m so good at my job.” She titters, a small grin forming on her lips with her prideful boast.
She’s unashamed by it. Cian had asked her to work on his office, after all. And with the understanding and slight relief of Finn returning at the end of the season, well, it certainly perks up her mood. It isn’t much to give to Tobi, but it might be enough.
So as the whiskey slips through her system, she perks up at the compliment, batting those eyes of hers, before that small smile grows a bit wider, vibrant and still just as playful. “That’s fair.” She murmurs softly. “You don’t happen to have a key to it, do you?” She asks, tilting her head a bit into the cushion so that the crown of her head rests against his arm.
She’s unashamed by it. Cian had asked her to work on his office, after all. And with the understanding and slight relief of Finn returning at the end of the season, well, it certainly perks up her mood. It isn’t much to give to Tobi, but it might be enough.
So as the whiskey slips through her system, she perks up at the compliment, batting those eyes of hers, before that small smile grows a bit wider, vibrant and still just as playful. “That’s fair.” She murmurs softly. “You don’t happen to have a key to it, do you?” She asks, tilting her head a bit into the cushion so that the crown of her head rests against his arm.
you got it out for me, like strangers in the night
holding close their sharpened knives
holding close their sharpened knives
