LET ME SHOW YOU
what you've been missing
They haven't noticed that they aren't alone, but that's perfectly fine with them, in all honesty. Cicatrix enjoys this much more than they would admit, for as old as they are. Centuries of living, and they still find delight in the simplest things such as a pretty seashell washed upon the shores of their new home. A giant of the stars and cosmos, finding giddiness in something so earthly. If they could smile, oh, they would be. The look of delight would be immeasurable on their features, but that's something they've learned to express with their body.
Their head lifts, and the blue shimmering liquid seeps from between sharp gilded teeth, gleaming a little and giving more frightening an appearance than they could ever actually be. But such was the curse inflicted on them with their birth. A tilt of their head is given, hearing the crunch of sand, and delicately, Cicatrix places the shell away in a pouch, delighted to see yet another new face. There seems to be many of those around here, though if they're honest . . . Cica knows that many of them view them as a potential threat just because of their looks. A shame, but something they've worked on overcoming over the years, and something they haven't allowed to bother them.
Tucking their wings at their sides, the celestial immortal immediately at least seems smaller, the membranes of skin holding close, as the feathers near the tops of the wings ruffle from the winds of the beach. Their cloak sways around their skeletal face, the glow of their halo visible even now in this light at the beach. A soft golden glow that seems to just trail them everywhere, a constant presence.
"Hello." Their voice is soft, despite their appearance, and the large being manages to keep themselves still from their frolicking, instead dipping their head a little low in greeting, only to lift it upward and tilt it to the side much like a curious ( and morbid ) puppy. "Oh! This?" The realization dawns on them when they put two and two together, gently pulling the shell from their satchel with their telekinesis. It glimmers in the light, dancing with a gold aura that's reflected off the light behind their head. "I found this shell, such a fascinating one. I've never seen a shell with gold." They seem delighted by it.
With their head in the clouds most of the time, always stargazing, it isn't a surprise that Cicatrix is easily fascinated by something so earthbound. Shells, flowers, the like. They enjoy each and every one of those items, always finding a novel sort of joy in discovering new things about them that they had never noticed ( or ever picked up on ) before.
A pause is given, and there's a sound like a gasp. "Oh! Pardon my rudeness, I am Cicatrix." A wing extends, folding in front of them as they dip their head again, much like a bow, before folding back against their side as they look up. If they could smile, they certainly would be. The joy and warmth at least leaks in to each and every word they speak.
Their head lifts, and the blue shimmering liquid seeps from between sharp gilded teeth, gleaming a little and giving more frightening an appearance than they could ever actually be. But such was the curse inflicted on them with their birth. A tilt of their head is given, hearing the crunch of sand, and delicately, Cicatrix places the shell away in a pouch, delighted to see yet another new face. There seems to be many of those around here, though if they're honest . . . Cica knows that many of them view them as a potential threat just because of their looks. A shame, but something they've worked on overcoming over the years, and something they haven't allowed to bother them.
Tucking their wings at their sides, the celestial immortal immediately at least seems smaller, the membranes of skin holding close, as the feathers near the tops of the wings ruffle from the winds of the beach. Their cloak sways around their skeletal face, the glow of their halo visible even now in this light at the beach. A soft golden glow that seems to just trail them everywhere, a constant presence.
"Hello." Their voice is soft, despite their appearance, and the large being manages to keep themselves still from their frolicking, instead dipping their head a little low in greeting, only to lift it upward and tilt it to the side much like a curious ( and morbid ) puppy. "Oh! This?" The realization dawns on them when they put two and two together, gently pulling the shell from their satchel with their telekinesis. It glimmers in the light, dancing with a gold aura that's reflected off the light behind their head. "I found this shell, such a fascinating one. I've never seen a shell with gold." They seem delighted by it.
With their head in the clouds most of the time, always stargazing, it isn't a surprise that Cicatrix is easily fascinated by something so earthbound. Shells, flowers, the like. They enjoy each and every one of those items, always finding a novel sort of joy in discovering new things about them that they had never noticed ( or ever picked up on ) before.
A pause is given, and there's a sound like a gasp. "Oh! Pardon my rudeness, I am Cicatrix." A wing extends, folding in front of them as they dip their head again, much like a bow, before folding back against their side as they look up. If they could smile, they certainly would be. The joy and warmth at least leaks in to each and every word they speak.
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