I though she walks upon changing lands and a bridge that turns from cold lava into sand, she walks like a girl upon her red carpet. She feels the press of his eyes upon her flesh and in his gaze is the velvet of her carpet, the glittering of her jewellery. August is gilded gold, he is metallic and bright, the sun to her endless mine of silver stone.
But oh, Minya is a creature more fine and lavish than any plain stone. She is more glorious than the shining gold of August’s skin. Though she is finer, though her body the more perfect art, she knows that together, she and August are the most perfect pair.
Her eyes, pink and bright, behold the might of the fierce unicorn. It wears its blemishes as scars of war and hungry magics. It rears in defiance, its maw ever parted in a cry of war as deafening as the earth’s greatest roar.
She listens to his wondering, to his ruminating over magic and old, old things. What space has she for magic? When has she ever needed it? They say her beauty is magic, her hold over fire - her ability to never be burned- a gift from the gods. But no part of her is magical. She prides herself upon appearing transcendent when really there is no magic in her bones.
His question draws a snide smile across her lips. Her eyes darken, lashes glittering like shards of glass, as she drinks in the Scarab boy and the sign above his head. She drinks in the smile upon his lips, the ones that jests, that plays and toys and, without a care she huffs, belittling him.
“Then maybe we are all just animated by magic. Nothing more than flesh and bone set to the whim of magic. Do not ire the gods or they might strike us back to statues - stuck still as death.
Her eyes trail over the sign. “Are you accustomed to kneeling August?” Then, with a huff, with a dismissive flick of her hair and the draw of silken lips her eyes darken ever more. “I have no time for gods nor magic.”
STAFF EDIT***
@Minyahas rolled a 2! She has been awarded +100 signos.
