[Kratos rises and walks away from Raine, nearly to the ledge on the other side, before halting without turning around. His wings are already visible, so there's no need to bring them up; but this time he needs to enforce his will into his mana, and maintain it. This, he does less frequently -- but it's as familiar to him as swordplay, after all this time. It takes effort, but it's familiar, and comfortable.
[The facets of his wings grow brighter, almost audibly. The area between his shoulder-blades suffuses with mana -- and so does the area behind him, crackling with something not-quite-lightning. Tendrils of light spread from his resting wings, peeling away as threads and threads of filaments which reach out at anything to be touched nearby. The rocks glow with reflected mana, pebbles skittering away from the few tendrils which reach toward the ground, patterning across it as though fingering.
[When Kratos turns it's clear the mana has gathered in a shape more like Remiel's feathered wings than the butterfly facets of the resting stage -- but far larger, spreading past Kratos's head, with the faceted wings still present like a support for the active. The light draws some colour out of his hair and clothes, and rings his head like a halo.]
Do you feel them now?
[His voice seems stronger like this, reverberating not just through air but mana too; strident.]
no subject
[Kratos rises and walks away from Raine, nearly to the ledge on the other side, before halting without turning around. His wings are already visible, so there's no need to bring them up; but this time he needs to enforce his will into his mana, and maintain it. This, he does less frequently -- but it's as familiar to him as swordplay, after all this time. It takes effort, but it's familiar, and comfortable.
[The facets of his wings grow brighter, almost audibly. The area between his shoulder-blades suffuses with mana -- and so does the area behind him, crackling with something not-quite-lightning. Tendrils of light spread from his resting wings, peeling away as threads and threads of filaments which reach out at anything to be touched nearby. The rocks glow with reflected mana, pebbles skittering away from the few tendrils which reach toward the ground, patterning across it as though fingering.
[When Kratos turns it's clear the mana has gathered in a shape more like Remiel's feathered wings than the butterfly facets of the resting stage -- but far larger, spreading past Kratos's head, with the faceted wings still present like a support for the active. The light draws some colour out of his hair and clothes, and rings his head like a halo.]
Do you feel them now?
[His voice seems stronger like this, reverberating not just through air but mana too; strident.]