#indivines 01

[adagaium]

❲ @indivines ❳

Crimson bleeds across his pale silver like a wound, like the scourge, and Ardyn stares for a moment at the person he'd managed to bump into. Someone radiating an aura not so different from the daemons, from Adagium, and as he was, it was rather unsettling. Maybe when things went back to normal, he wouldn't feel like that. Maybe they'd ... they'd what? Get along? Ardyn's form of destruction and anger was directed at a single person, at Somnus.

This color reminded him of that battle. The one where Somnus lured him back to Insomnia and drove the sword through his chest. The day Aera died, and with her his faith in the Astrals. Where had the Six been when he wept for her, when he was brought to Angelgard and faced a gruesome punishment? Where were they for the 2000 years where he died and came back over and over and over?

To think he still prayed before meals ...

❝ What a feeling ... it isn't the first time I've taken in something like this... ❞ Of course it isn't. He'd let it consume him, but here ... he did his best not to let the crimson cloud his head. Not after he'd also gained a sylleblossom blue- ❝ Passion and rage and destruction. Like the daemons of Eos ... how peculiar. ❞

[draoidhean]

❝ you shouldn’t have. really. you shouldn’t have. ❞

He's never been fond of others telling him what he should or shouldn't do- but it seemed to happen over and over again, whether he wanted it or not. At least, this time, it wasn't about some magecraft related thing ⎛ he had spent far too long pretending to actually care- so much so that he had made a name for himself as a top rate professor; he served as Lord of the Mineralogy department, and all he had ever wanted was to leave all of that behind... If he'd been able to fight his way through the war, wouldn't he have gotten his wish? ⎠

As an artist, Kayneth was naturally curious of the world around him, and when he was curious, he took notes. Or sketched- especially freed of the watchful eyes of the Mage's Association, sketching had been his primary method of understanding, of recording and learning- but maybe getting caught sketching people who walked by wasn't ... He couldn't think of any reason sketching others wouldn't be socially acceptable. ❝ It is only a sketch- ❞

❝ An artist will never improve if they do not continue to practice their craft. ❞ He glances once more at the man's face and then back down to the charcoal sketch ⎛ at his hands covered in it, and he feels more like himself than he has in quite some time ⎠ with a sort of fondness that he'd never show to another person- not like this. ❝ You may keep it if you wish. ❞

[ostentumm]

@indivines

"I don't think I'll ever get used to this smell," he says, pinching his nose together. He actually HAS gotten used to the scent this man carried with him. Something that the older male probably was unaware of and those around him. He's not talking about his BO, but of what he is.

"You know, there are monsters in my world that smells JUST like you!" And why is he saying that with a smile on his face? It's probably not even a compliment.