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[shadowglitter]

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[shadowglitter]

That doesn't mean anything! That's only because... that's only because the decisions I make tend to... tend to lean towards being bad! The wings of fate which guide my hand occasionally flap a somewhat ill tiding. That's all! Wings of fate can have bad days, sometimes!

[ underneath whatever the fuck all of that means, odin's just trying to defend his desire to push darin a little. just a little, because he really likes darin a lot, and he really doesn't like pushing people in general, but.

as fun as playing dressup might be, and as unwilling as odin might be to blame darin for needing assistance, it does bother him that lucina is going to have to go to great lengths to clear his name. even though, you know. these great lengths - the costume, the fake george glass-ian boyfriend, the moustache - that was all odin's idea. lucina could just stand outside of the spotlight for a while until import fans find something new to gossip about. there is literally no reason for him to be salty at darin.

bbbbbbbbbbbbut he's a little salty at darin. ]

I'm not sure even mystic artistry as heightened and as mega-super-awoken as mine would be capable of concealing the heroic majesty that radiates from Falchion. I mean, it's a legendary weapon! You're basically asking me to put a cape on the sun.

[ -- but this request stops seeming sacrilegious and kind of offensive the second odin realizes how cool the sun would be if it had a cape. he wouldn't be desecrating falchion if he used magic to give it a... a second appearance? like an outfit. a wig reveal. hmm. ]

I could certainly try, though. At the very least, we could paint it. Black, maybe. Like the night.

[fauxmarth]

Yes...paint won't do it harm. And if I obscure the hilt enough, it ought to do; there are so few who can perceive Falchion for what it truly is already, so the job's half-done.

[this is so much work for something mended in much easier ways, but...this is Lucina. of course she'll stick her neck out too far for friends in need, even at her own expense. sometimes especially at her own expense... and this is ridiculous enough that even she notices it beforehand.

she sighs.]

Right. Then it'll be a matter of procuring some new attire. And that mustache. [a beat.] Have you any contacts left at that theater you worked for long ago? Perhaps that'll do the trick.