It went from a spark to an open flame

the lullaby

How do I learn my dreams to mold
To lay them bare in the morning cold?

That the Cathedral boasted a high rocky ceiling caused a steady trail of mist from Frey's Breath to constantly flow into the open space before rising upwards. Caught on the black stone it would coalesce and form stalactites, which in turn would form stalagmites. Like giant teeth protruding around the 'pews', the partial mist and shimmer of light caught on the obsidian would give clever minds reason to pause and consider turning back.

With a towel draped loosely around his waist and his barefoot slapping against the stone floor, there was no hesitation on Remi's part as he followed the whorls of steam. "When you think about it, given how both are made, there really is not much of a difference between tea and gin." He calls over his shoulder, frowning at the echo of his voice and nearly dropping the pot of blushberry tea he held because of a particularly phallic stalagmite in his path.

If they're still out there then the chasm grows
For all you know, for all you've known

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!

RONIN

the darkstar

"Are you suggesting that we ought to have brought blushberry gin as an offering instead? Because I think I drank it all back in the hotsprings." And the rosy flush that sits high in Ronin's cheeks shows as much, but whatever effect the blushberries seemed to have on him previously is now mitigated by the alcohol. It explains the ease with which he sidles up behind Remi, the towel that sits low on his hips not fastened very securely at all (he doesn't give a fuck).

Still dewy with water and steam from the springs, he leans in to press a breathy kiss against the back of Remi's neck, his hands sneaking around his husband's waist to help hold the tea - or that's his excuse, anyway. "Careful," he murmurs about the stalagmite, steering them around it and towards the shrine.

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!