Obelisk has never considered himself particularly handsome. Has never given much thought to himself at all. Even when he had woken that one day with bat wings growing on his shoulders, he had barely given it a passing thought—merely shrugging and accepting it as the next strange and fantastical thing of this world. The things that were beyond his method of comprehension, beyond what he was able to decipher.
It was easier to chalk such things up to this.
Easier to assume his rightful place amongst his siblings. Leaving Altar to carve up the world to her own making and him and Cher to dutifully follow her, moving ahead when necessary to carve the space.
So it is only right that he does not give much thought to his brother’s new appearance either. It is just another change in this world, and he accepts it as such. Turning his head to see the approach of another girl similarly marked with the stars. She must be another sister, he thinks, and is surprised that he has not seen her around before. Is this another creature that he must serve, he wonders, and then feels an immediate swelling of guilt in his chest—apologizing to Altar for even thinking such thoughts.
“My face?” he echoes dully, not picking up that the question was pointed to his brother. Not even thinking that his brother’s face was something worth questioning. “I don’t know,” he says after a moment, wondering if there has been something wrong with his face this entire time and he was simply unaware.
Confused, he feels his brother slink into his shoulder and his bat wings unfold slightly, coming to rest on his brother’s broad back. His lips pull into a frown slightly as he turns back to look at the young girl.
“You made him cry,” his voice is a little darker this time, but the confusion still there.
turn your head toward the storm that’s surely coming along