The calm before the storm seemed to have dissipated, the silvery eyes winking back in the night. A ghoul with both a metallic and violet gaze had since appeared, scrutinizing the goddess before her. Quietly, amethysts would take in the masculine physique of the ghost, silvery banner simply waving absently behind her in sync with the wind, moving as gently as the wind. Perhaps it was just one of her epiphanies, though the aroma of the tempest was overwhelming, of blood, war, and battle. From the pallid lips of the tempest came simple words, voiced in a croon. Playing protagonist and antagonist, perhaps? The woman was far too old for that game, and far too experienced in playing mind games. "I am no protagonist, goddess." A smirk curled her inky lips into a different expression, richly accented speech singing from her lips. "I am just a mere flower in the night. Someday, perhaps..." A chortle escaped her lips, as she slid closer to the tempest, intrigued by this interesting tempest. Perhaps this tempest, who looked so oddly similar to her, despite their common coat coloration and opposite structures, they stood at the same height and owned their fair share of scars.
"I can find a throne worthy to bleed for." Her silver banner waved as she would turn her skullage elegantly, her chassis folding neatly beneath. This woman likely knew who was an enemy and who was an ally, and this tempest seemed to be a exceptional ally so far, seeing from her fair share of scars proudly shown. Lush lyrics followed this train of thought, gazing back over at the goddess. "Any suggestions, goddess?" This warrior could be a big help in determining her goals, but she would not use her. But perhaps she could let herself { empyrea } be used by the goddess.
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