𝐒𝐊𝐔𝐋𝐋𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐈𝐍 𝐇𝐔𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐋𝐈𝐋𝐀𝐂, 𝐘𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖 & 𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐄 ; shaded, they look just like bruises that formed underneath ghost's bulletproof bullet - resistant vest. alune doesn't pay any attention to the footage — she's sulking, too sad, knowing her brother's away. she feels like she's abandoned even knowing it's not true ; like a ghost, she moves around, hovers in doorframes, curls up away from sight, but still in the corner of one's vision. thus, it's comfortable being around an actual ghost — the silent and brooding type — rougher than phel, surely, but so similar. atop inked snake's head broken hearts are being drawn, & the weapon crafter / tinkerer sighs.
“i prayed,” the silver - haired woman explains softly, quietly ; oft lively & sweet tone of hers now replaced with something meek & lifeless. “for fortune, for protection ; the moon goddess listens to those who ask, and i care for keegan's safety.”
a pause, as alune plays with a sharpie between her index & middle finger, spinning it almost nervousy, anxiously.
“i can pray upon your weapon's reliability, too,” she offers, but without conviction. “but i know you can do just fine without it.”
@cvvany, ghost, from here.












