in tenebris est veritas.
Chaele is reminded of stories of her childhood, of spirits and fairies that take more than they seem to. Nonetheless she wants the feather and whatever power it might hold, even if that power is simply symbolic. “This signifies no further agreement,” she clarifies, stepping forward to hold out the offering to the demi-god. “One thing for another. An even trade.”
Even with the cloak around him, Remi seems bare without his halo of flames-- like Ronin, abnormally mortal. Chaele, on the other hand, is entirely clothed: physically, spiritually, emotionally. The only thing laid bare is the honesty of this little creation, made to be burned and never dreamed to be worth an exchange so rare. From one angle it looks like a planet with rings made of phalanges, but from directly above or below it resembles a dark iris within an osseous eye. Its symbolism is its only magic, the power of intention woven in yarn and rock and marrow.
Looking between them both, she must turn her head more than others might to see through the monocular eyes of her mask. Jokes seem to escape her, at least in this bizarre moment. “I promise I will not use it against you, if you can promise the same.”
Even with the cloak around him, Remi seems bare without his halo of flames-- like Ronin, abnormally mortal. Chaele, on the other hand, is entirely clothed: physically, spiritually, emotionally. The only thing laid bare is the honesty of this little creation, made to be burned and never dreamed to be worth an exchange so rare. From one angle it looks like a planet with rings made of phalanges, but from directly above or below it resembles a dark iris within an osseous eye. Its symbolism is its only magic, the power of intention woven in yarn and rock and marrow.
Looking between them both, she must turn her head more than others might to see through the monocular eyes of her mask. Jokes seem to escape her, at least in this bizarre moment. “I promise I will not use it against you, if you can promise the same.”
