in tenebris est veritas.
Her instinct is to feel mocked by Remi’s mirror of her, but the marital bickering lends her an insight into the amiable inclinations of both men. Neither is without their humanity, despite the faint electric stench of their divinities. And Chaele is hardly one to fault theatrics, a hidden grin rising behind her mask.
Ronin’s peacekeeping elicits a mild nod from the mortal, if only to promise that she will no longer dwell on the topic of her own demise. There is certainly something thrilling in the threat that is not a threat, the blithe disregard for her mortality that sinks in her heart like a cliff’s edge or a predator’s growl. A fraying braid, knotted with a dark iridescent stone, is tucked coyly behind her ear. “One could argue that one is never lost in a maze, but rather precisely where they are meant to be,” she interjects wryly, slowly finding the pace of their banter.
She looks down at the little bone charm in her hand, then back toward the fire for a pensive moment. Closer inspection might reveal that the various phalanges tied to the central stone are carved with more runes, invoking notions of sight and secrets.
“I made this as a sort of sacrifice, to give to the Eye and its power.” There were plenty of ways to say the following words, but somehow she could not bring herself to the reverence or formality the moment might otherwise deserve. “Do either of you... want it?”
Ronin’s peacekeeping elicits a mild nod from the mortal, if only to promise that she will no longer dwell on the topic of her own demise. There is certainly something thrilling in the threat that is not a threat, the blithe disregard for her mortality that sinks in her heart like a cliff’s edge or a predator’s growl. A fraying braid, knotted with a dark iridescent stone, is tucked coyly behind her ear. “One could argue that one is never lost in a maze, but rather precisely where they are meant to be,” she interjects wryly, slowly finding the pace of their banter.
She looks down at the little bone charm in her hand, then back toward the fire for a pensive moment. Closer inspection might reveal that the various phalanges tied to the central stone are carved with more runes, invoking notions of sight and secrets.
“I made this as a sort of sacrifice, to give to the Eye and its power.” There were plenty of ways to say the following words, but somehow she could not bring herself to the reverence or formality the moment might otherwise deserve. “Do either of you... want it?”
