GANDHI, MATE, REMEMBER GANDHI
07-17-2014, 01:30 AM
A brow elevates curiously as the Armada queen lowers her skull, though the answer to her unspoken question is laced within the venomous explanation that follows, and her pupils trail the corrupted contours of the woman?s pallid cranium with mild intrigue. The Elysius tyrant does not see the need to fret over scars { although they do taint physical beauty } when her own countenance adorns a multitude of her own lacerations --- and they are proudly adorned as badges of honor. Haunches leave the safety of the earth as the phantom seeks to propel herself nearer to the Tortugan queen, halting only once her pale digits toe the borderlines of the other?s keep. Her disfigured muzzle inclines in the direction of Roman as she hopes to vaguely encroach upon her personal space, skull twisting and turning to grant the woman a better view of the entirety of her visage. ?They are not scars --? she begins, hoping to direct the woman?s attention to her own macabre embellishments, ?-- but testimonies of my victories.? Mismatched amethyst and silver gaze seeks to interlock briefly upon the other?s own violet before she backpedals from their proximities, hoping to have at least enlightened the woman about the BEAUTY of scars. Her brother is mentioned next, and a smile distorts the deity?s frayed lips. ?Novo is as healthy and as defiant as can be,? her vocals are laden in the faintest chortle, though it subsides with the next { unsuspected } sentiment that graces the atmosphere. ?Roman? I do not need much convincing,? the phantom voices her bedeviled croon, eyes glazing over with evident malevolence. A smirk touches her facial features as the queen accepts her gift, and although it is not much { the tyrant is a warrior, not a huntress }, she hopes it might suffice midnight cravings. ?Do not fret --- you have done enough for me.? |