Cerulean Cape is anything but safe

as you should be, severin 'tsk's haughtily at the apology for the delay in offering salvation, moonbeam gaze sparking with unfettered devilry. well, severin drawls. i'm going to need proof of your miracle work before swearing it before any altars, of course. words spoken like the strike of ink from a fountain pen upon a business deal. was that not what this was? a potential ( or talk of ) exchange of goods that the other wants? it appeals largely to the hedonist in the misfit.

vonnaruil, severin purls the pale man's name, tasting it, savoring how it sounds drawn out, rolling from his tongue in his deep, gravelly, opulent tone. a small quirk of a brow is given as vonn is offered as a shorter alternative. mmm, as delectable as it is to say vonnaruil, it isn't hard to imagine how the tongue might stumble, a pause is given, a wicked tilt to his lips. when the vocal chords desire to make a very different sound.