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[IamanElfCollaborator]

"Been here since....two, three days? Seems a lot better than the hellhole I came from, lass."

[Xantalos]

Hm. I could put it back if you wish.

[Empiricist]

"Likewise, at least there aren't many signs of corruption here."
"My original body died shortly after I exited it, bodies need souls after all. Anyway, having a specialized, expendable, though fragile form is better for my purposes."

[Xantalos]

That's yer desicion then.
The bird looks up.
Are there stars? These old eyes can't see.

[Empiricist]

Silica looks up, trying to verify with her Awareness stat of 0.

[IamanElfCollaborator]

"It's midday. Of course there aren't going to be stars."

[Empiricist]

"I guess I need to pay more attention."
((This will be a recurring trait. In Perplexicon, someone got his head bisected and then his body sliced in half about five meters away from Silica and she still didn't notice.))

[Xantalos]

Meh. I'm in a star mood.

It becomes night.

[Empiricist]

"Adamenstiar Sharsazsho Zarabethcanthal Conth"
Silica summons a large diamond with a mass of light inside it. She keeps it close enough to provide some soft illumination but far enough not to interrupt the viewing too much with light pollution.

[IamanElfCollaborator]

Daeron just lights a torch.

[Empiricist]

Silica instinctively shifts ever so slightly away from the fire.

[Xantalos]

Very nice. Better than some divines I've seen. Now then, to make the sky a little more interesting.

The raven lifts off and glides overhead into the night sky, and trails of glowing white begin to dance from his beak as he flies. He leaves contrails of star stuff around the sky as he pinwheels and dances on the air.
When he's done the sky itself is a glowing tapestry of swirling designs and pulsing slivers of light.

See, that's how a sky is made, he remarks as he sets down again on Daeron's head.

[IamanElfCollaborator]

"...not a big fan of fire, lass?"

[Empiricist]

Silica silently observes the the performance, awestruck.
"I'm the sort of person who makes cannons capable of firing blackholes, mortars that distort matter and blades of infernal toxins yet still gets scared by sharp butterknives and small fires."

[Xantalos]

A reasonable fear, truth be told.