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Cerin There is a polite rap upon the door. "May I come in, Varanim?"

Varanim "Sure," comes the answering grunt. Inside, Varanim appears to be... tidying up.

Cerin pushes the door open, and steps inside. He is followed by a servant carrying a large rectangle, wrapped in black silk. "Good afternoon," he says, as he looks around at the tidying going on.

Varanim "Hm," Varanim agrees with a frown, looking away from the wall where she's washing off the last of the sprawling charcoal diagram that had covered it to about a foot over head height. There's a row of empty bottles on the desk, unearthed from mysterious regions of the room, and some order in the chaos of books and papers there.

Varanim "If this is about the zombies, I'm working on a plan."

Cerin "That is good to hear," he says with a nod. "But no, I am here as a result of a commision I recieved." he makes a gesture to the black silk covered rectangle.

Varanim wrings out the cloth she was using, eyebrows going up. "I don't remember asking for any presents."

Cerin "You weren't the one who asked for it," he agrees.

Varanim "Wait, is it a severed head? Because I've already gotten that surprise present."

Cerin raises an eyebrow. The black rectangle doesn't look like it might conceal a severed head. But then, this is Cerin.

Varanim frowns at his unhelpfulness, patting her hands dry on her shirt and stepping over to the rectangle. "Well then who's sending me..." she trails off with a funny look on her face, then tugs away the covering.

Cerin The scene on the seve-... painting is almost one from Varanim's memory. There is the sunset, the sky aflame in a myriad shades of red and gold and purple, the last light of the fading sun caught on the whisps of cloud. In the foreground of the painting there is the tree taken from Varanim's memory, sillouetted against the glory of the faded sun. To the left of it there is a figure, one that doesn't belong in the original memory.

Cerin Despite it being only a sillouette like the tree, it is obviously Varanim, facing away from the viewer, towards the sun. She has a staff in the left hand, end resting on the ground and in the right, the many pointed form of the Mask of Summers.

Varanim "Oh," Varanim says, then is still for a long moment. When she turns away from it to look at Cerin, there's still a trace of a smile on her face and an odd light in her eyes. "Thank you."

Cerin "You should thank Lucent, the comission was from him. I am glad that you like it though," he says with a smile.

Varanim Varanim's eyes sharpen a bit, glancing down at the mask in the painted figure's hand and then back up at Cerin. "Lucent, you say."

Cerin "It was he who showed me the sunset and asked it to be painted for you, yes."

Varanim "I see." Varanim looks back at the painting for a moment, frowning. "Cerin, do you think it was a bad idea for me to come back?"

Cerin "No," he says, quite seriously, after some deliberation.

Varanim nods. "Thanks," she says quietly, and picks up the painting to hang.

Cerin smiles just a little, and inclines his head just slightly. "I, at least, am glad you are back, too."

Varanim "All right, enough of that," Varanim says a little uncomfortably. "Swing by later, we'll talk Essence theory. I'll bring the booze."

Cerin 's smile widens perhaps a smidgen at that, and then he nods "Until later, then." And then he leaves, the servant already having beat a retreat as soon as he wasn't needed to hold the painting.

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