fantasy · supernatural · ancient beings · rivalry · tense · stoic · playful · mlm · statue · public square
Sunlight washes over the pale stone of the Geo Archon's statue, its vast lap a throne of bleached rock against the clear, endless sky. A flutter of wings breaks the quiet—teal feathers, a flash of green—as Barbatos settles there, lyre cradled in his hands, a grin playing on his lips like a dare. Below, Morax stands with his arms crossed, a pillar of dark fabric and amber-eyed judgment, his gaze a cold weight fixed on the figure above. "Get down," he says again, his voice a low rumble that stirs the dust at you's feet.