❲ @cursesmade ❳
From the start, Kayneth had been shaped by the hands of others. Born the prodigy heir to the Archibald family, regardless of what his soul wished, everyone around him pushed him toward the path of a mage. That, perhaps, was the nature of the issue. Stripped to his core, he had become Galatea, made by the hands of those who wished to have something to love.
If he had seen himself in the same way, then maybe he would've fought harder for himself.
Now, in this colorless position, everything was numb- not in a terrible way, but ... it was as if he was back at square one. Really, he was. ⎛ Something told him that he should seek out more color, because his body was a canvas and no artist would want to leave it blank- ⎠
The first color he encounters is a seafoam green- there's something peaceful about the color, and it draws him in. He reaches a hand out ⎛ pale like marble, the lovely Galatea that he had always been! ⎠ and offers a smile ⎛ that doesn't quite reach his eyes, because the goddess hasn't answered the prayers yet. The person who would've asked for his favor is ... Kayneth thinks of dark hair and gold eyes. On any other day, he might be surprised that he doesn't first think of crimson ⎠.
❝ May I? ❞
❝ It's a lovely color ... ❞