✩ v i r u n ✩
I couldn't hide from the thunder
in a sky full of song
His reply comes jarringly immediate and nonchalant. “D-death?” She stammers out, dark lashes fluttering anxiously as her lilac eyes seemed to expand in proportion to her shock. Was he some sort of mercenary, or assassin? “What do you-“ She starts to ask, then cuts herself short abruptly, thinking better of it. If he was in that line of work, it was probably better not to know about it; she’d heard unpleasant things about getting involved with people like that.
If she had been able to see, she might have noticed his scrutinizing stare. Seeing as she could not, his realization comes stark and sudden, and she squints at him. “Yes, well, of course I’m blind,” She says, rather tactless in her own surprise, and amends her suspicion that he might be some sort of knife-for-hire. No assassin worth their salt (coins?) would miss her blindness. (She does not consider that it might seem so blaringly obvious to her only because she is so glaringly self-conscious of it; Virun does, after all, dedicate plenty of her time to cultivating the appearance of normalcy.) This is enough to embolden her to finish asking her previous question. “What do you mean about death?” Her ears tilt forward. Some sort of warrior, maybe. Or guard. (But what kind of guard or warrior would show up drunk to dine with divinity?)
He remarks, rather cynically, that, if they die, at least they’ll have company. Her mind drifts again to the trapped regimes, but not for long, because she doesn’t want to remember the sound of Asterion and Cyrene’s voices. Better to push that all away. “I’m too busy to die here,” She mutters in protest, then, in the interest of politeness, adds, “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” even though she still isn’t sure that it is. Sacha. He was certainly…different than the people she’d met in Novus so far – where Cyrene and Asterion and Ein had been kind and serious and polite, this fellow was…not unkind, but…irreverent, perhaps. He came to a sacred place and treated it like something that wasn’t sacred at all. Virun wasn’t very familiar with gods, in the land that she came from; by any normal standards, she supposed that she had brushed shoulders with them more than once. Her friends could warp reality to suit their desires, and that was what a god was, right?
“If you aren’t here for the gods…how did you end up here?” Looking for drinks, even.
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tags | @sacha
notes | <3
I couldn't hide from the thunder
in a sky full of song
His reply comes jarringly immediate and nonchalant. “D-death?” She stammers out, dark lashes fluttering anxiously as her lilac eyes seemed to expand in proportion to her shock. Was he some sort of mercenary, or assassin? “What do you-“ She starts to ask, then cuts herself short abruptly, thinking better of it. If he was in that line of work, it was probably better not to know about it; she’d heard unpleasant things about getting involved with people like that.
If she had been able to see, she might have noticed his scrutinizing stare. Seeing as she could not, his realization comes stark and sudden, and she squints at him. “Yes, well, of course I’m blind,” She says, rather tactless in her own surprise, and amends her suspicion that he might be some sort of knife-for-hire. No assassin worth their salt (coins?) would miss her blindness. (She does not consider that it might seem so blaringly obvious to her only because she is so glaringly self-conscious of it; Virun does, after all, dedicate plenty of her time to cultivating the appearance of normalcy.) This is enough to embolden her to finish asking her previous question. “What do you mean about death?” Her ears tilt forward. Some sort of warrior, maybe. Or guard. (But what kind of guard or warrior would show up drunk to dine with divinity?)
He remarks, rather cynically, that, if they die, at least they’ll have company. Her mind drifts again to the trapped regimes, but not for long, because she doesn’t want to remember the sound of Asterion and Cyrene’s voices. Better to push that all away. “I’m too busy to die here,” She mutters in protest, then, in the interest of politeness, adds, “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” even though she still isn’t sure that it is. Sacha. He was certainly…different than the people she’d met in Novus so far – where Cyrene and Asterion and Ein had been kind and serious and polite, this fellow was…not unkind, but…irreverent, perhaps. He came to a sacred place and treated it like something that wasn’t sacred at all. Virun wasn’t very familiar with gods, in the land that she came from; by any normal standards, she supposed that she had brushed shoulders with them more than once. Her friends could warp reality to suit their desires, and that was what a god was, right?
“If you aren’t here for the gods…how did you end up here?” Looking for drinks, even.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
tags | @sacha
notes | <3
