Lucid reverence, floating in your sacred sin
Need your fire against my skin
Cosmic violence, chill's drippin' like acid rain
Keep coming back 'cause it's you I crave
Need your fire against my skin
Cosmic violence, chill's drippin' like acid rain
Keep coming back 'cause it's you I crave
Something shifts in the air, and Isra’s tension shifts with it. It does not fade, not entirely, but there is now room within the chamber to actually breathe and relax, without the smoky threat of battle coating their tongues and cloying the atmosphere.
Israfel waits for a few more breaths, watching, her eyes focused upon Leviathan as he speaks… And then she grins. “Well, that makes two of us.”
Clearly neither one of them were exactly good at this sort of thing, playing Kings and Queens when they were anything but, yet Israfel wasn’t’ concerned. She had a plan, should all things go in her favor, of course. Luckily it had nothing to do with this scarred brute standing within Denocte’s throne room.
Arching a brow, she went on. “Maybe we should have a change of atmosphere to talk more about this. Do you like beer or ale, Leviathan? Seamus, one of our local brewers, makes some pretty good shit. I had a few casks delivered to the citadel for this very situation.” No matter his answer, the Sun Daughter had every intention of helping herself to a few cups. She stepped around Leviathan’s bulk form and strode confidently towards the doors of the throne room. Wrenching them open herself, Denocte’s Queen began to lead the way to a much more comfortable sitting room where a cask was already waiting, along with a few empty cups.
Instead of beckoning a servant to pour her cup for her, Israfel did it herself. She motioned for Leviathan to help himself, if he so chose.
“So. We both suck at this whole ‘royalty’ thing, which is fine. I didn’t take Denocte’s throne with the intentions of being a pretty little Queen full of poise and grace. My Court knows what I am, who I am, and we’ve always been a Court full of misfits.” The woman’s crooked, rose-kissed grin was flashed briefly in Leviathan’s direction, the keen glint of vermilion eyes piercing. “It’s good to know that you don’t have the intentions to follow in the same tyrannical steps as the Kings before you. No offense, but Solterra doesn’t really have the best track record.” It was old news, especially if Leviathan was no stranger to the terrible tendencies and luck that always seemed to befall Day anyway. She did not need to preach to him about his own Court’s shortcomings and difficulties.
“I don’t like talking about politics, but that’s what we have to do. Unfortunately. If we weren’t willing to at least try, we wouldn’t have challenged for this title. And, I think we both want to do what’s best for our Courts. Respectively, of course.” Lifting her cup of ale, Isra took a long drink and mulled over her next words. "How do you intend to breathe life back into your kingdom, Leviathan?"
