REICHENBACH'S BAE
I’ve never seen it done like that before.
Florentine blinks. Colour floods her golden cheeks, warm blood making them warm to touch. “Oh.” She exclaims softly, dismay and disappointment rolling over her like a wave. Had her first attempt at prayer had fallen quite so flat? Apparently so, Flora thinks, bemused.
The flower girl looks again to the surrounding altars. They stand quiet and shrouded, littered with the occasional gift and utterly silent in the still of the temple. There were still no worshipers to lead her by example and the altars themselves were as unhelpful as the first time she looked upon them for aid. Slowly Flora sweeps her gaze back up to the pale boy and for a moment they simply peer at each other. He was sifting through old memories of what he had been told about prayer, whilst Florentine began warming to the idea that: if prayer was clearly not her thing – did it mean she had to partake at all?
However, not one to be defeated upon her first attempt, the golden queen muses gently for a moment more before hedging softly, “Like what?” She asks of Eros quite unhelpfully. Maybe they could fumble their way through prayer together? Though the flower-girl cannot help but think they would be like ships upon an endlessly open sea without a compass.
Her breath escapes in a shiver that sways the silk cloth draped reverently over Vespera’s altar. Feathers, golden and grounded, drift along the marble floor with her errant petals, gathering at the foot of the religious table. The Dawn boy, as pale as the snow, draws her attention back to him. Did she know anything more than just the gods’ names?
Disappointed, Florentine shakes her head, her hair a beautiful disarray and her eyes just as tangled with thoughtful wonderings. “No, I don’t… Maybe we should have bought them a gift.” With a frown she spies the gifts upon the altar: dried flowers and rich cloth, perfumes, oils… The more she looks, the more Flora sees dusty offerings beside fresh, glowing gifts. “We could have a look at what other people have brought for their deities though…” She takes a step away from Vespera’s shrine and on towards Calligo’s. At the Night goddess’ altar were more flowers but also fruit and perfume. “I am not sure it matters what they like?” The girl asks softly warily, her eyes catching in corners of the temple that seem to move with the shadows. Maybe it did matter…
“I have met gods before, in other worlds. But, having been to so many different worlds with different gods I cannot help thinking that they are just like any of us. Is the only difference that their magic is more powerful than we could possess?” She pauses, weighing the words upon her tongue. They were heavy, oh so heavy. Florentine peers back at the snow-white boy, his own lack of confidence buoying and softening her own. “Why should we worship them just for possessing stronger magic? It seems wrong.” Flore breathes, her eyes glittering in the dark. She may not wish to worship them, but she would try, even through her jumbled thoughts.
Maybe she was just understanding it all wrong…
“No one in this lifetime has seen Vespera, or any of the other gods… what if they are all just made of stories?” And just like that the queen dares to blaspheme, albeit with wide eyes and a racing heart.
@Eros
This styling is also nice for some non-obtrusive OOC credits, wordcount or banter. Don't forget that divider up there.
