☼ s e r a p h i n a ☼
when the fires are consuming you
and your sacred stars won't be guiding you
when the fires are consuming you
and your sacred stars won't be guiding you
Saphrax might be disappointed when he finds the woman, for she is no portrait of delicate beauty; Seraphina could only be called lovely in the purposeful way that one might call a well-sharpened, finely crafted blade lovely. She is all lean muscle, and, as she moves to look at him, her stance, though not particularly tense, is imposing. Her features are dark and weathered, and her eyes – her eyes have seen too much for her face. She’s older than she was, no longer child-queen or frightened girl just growing into her adulthood with a crown like a noose around her throat, but she still isn’t old enough for the ages behind her eyes. And as she lets her odd stare, a sharp contrast of fire and ice, linger on his own, the look in her eyes is cold enough to put the frigid wind that swirls about them to shame.
She thinks that the preening bird in front of her is one of the fairer creatures that she has seen – he reminds her of the phoenix that she has seen in the company of that Dusk Court woman, Israfel, and the artful way that he lands is something to be admired. (She has a certain respect for beings that can fly.) Her gaze creeps watchfully down the feathers of flame that decorate his scalp and hips, the burning of his wings – a fire mage, hmm? She wonders if the flames are just for show, or if they would burn if touched. (If not, she thinks that they are little more than useless decoration; she needs something that burns, not simply something that gleams. The sun – not its reflection.) He asks where he can find the Day Court, and her response is almost immediate, practiced from years as a patrolling guard. “You stand within its walls,” she says simply, her voice impassive, “though it is not usually so…frigid.”
She allows a moment’s pause between them before she inclines her head at him, allowing curiosity to replace her frustration; now that she was a Queen, rather than a mere patrol guard, it seemed so rare that she was able to encounter strangers on their first visit to the court. In spite of his poor timing, Seraphina couldn’t help but wonder what had drawn him to Solterra – and not just because, as its Sovereign, she needed to know everything that occurred within its (presently snow-covered) sands. “What brings you to Solterra, stranger? Why do you seek the Day Court?” If that curiosity bleeds out into her tone, however, it is well-guarded; her intonation barely even rises with the question. However, something in her voice is cool and commanding, with a hint of the authority that she has grown into oh-so slowly. She did not like it much when she had first borne the crown, when she was so young and inexperienced. She is still not so sure that she likes it, but she has grown into it.
She offers him no introduction of her own, in spite of her questions. Seraphina had learned that she preferred to remain anonymous, whenever it was possible – even if this stranger had no reason to know the queen of the court (or, perhaps, if he sought it out, he did), she had no desire to give him her name just yet.
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notes | !!! <3 this is rambly. but also I have a lot of feelings about my girl being like, a whole five years old in-game now.
tags | @Saphrax
She thinks that the preening bird in front of her is one of the fairer creatures that she has seen – he reminds her of the phoenix that she has seen in the company of that Dusk Court woman, Israfel, and the artful way that he lands is something to be admired. (She has a certain respect for beings that can fly.) Her gaze creeps watchfully down the feathers of flame that decorate his scalp and hips, the burning of his wings – a fire mage, hmm? She wonders if the flames are just for show, or if they would burn if touched. (If not, she thinks that they are little more than useless decoration; she needs something that burns, not simply something that gleams. The sun – not its reflection.) He asks where he can find the Day Court, and her response is almost immediate, practiced from years as a patrolling guard. “You stand within its walls,” she says simply, her voice impassive, “though it is not usually so…frigid.”
She allows a moment’s pause between them before she inclines her head at him, allowing curiosity to replace her frustration; now that she was a Queen, rather than a mere patrol guard, it seemed so rare that she was able to encounter strangers on their first visit to the court. In spite of his poor timing, Seraphina couldn’t help but wonder what had drawn him to Solterra – and not just because, as its Sovereign, she needed to know everything that occurred within its (presently snow-covered) sands. “What brings you to Solterra, stranger? Why do you seek the Day Court?” If that curiosity bleeds out into her tone, however, it is well-guarded; her intonation barely even rises with the question. However, something in her voice is cool and commanding, with a hint of the authority that she has grown into oh-so slowly. She did not like it much when she had first borne the crown, when she was so young and inexperienced. She is still not so sure that she likes it, but she has grown into it.
She offers him no introduction of her own, in spite of her questions. Seraphina had learned that she preferred to remain anonymous, whenever it was possible – even if this stranger had no reason to know the queen of the court (or, perhaps, if he sought it out, he did), she had no desire to give him her name just yet.
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notes | !!! <3 this is rambly. but also I have a lot of feelings about my girl being like, a whole five years old in-game now.
tags | @Saphrax
I'M IN A ROOM MADE OUT OF MIRRORSand there's no way to escape the violence of a girl against herself.☼please tag Sera! contact is encouraged, short of violence
