Reclusive as creatures of luxury and legend aught be, so too were either two of the Faeraar Kazon. Winter happened to be either of the pair's favorite time of year given the whole of the world seemed caught in some frigid spell of ice and snow; so much glittered and gleamed. For but a single season the realm shone like a magpie's precious, shining horde of stolen goods, like the inside of a mountain long left to shift and crush and fuse into diamonds, like....like the inside of Victor's personal workshop where he tinkered and toyed with all manner and shape of metal and technological magic.
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Such was the inspiration for their garb the Seraph had worked tirelessly on while his Siren muse, ever the sinuous shadow, fueled his mad passions. When all was said and done, she'd stand a vision of dangerous beauty made real with metal and translucent satin; all of it mimicked sheets and fractal starbursts of ice, shining shards and prickling points of would-be snow crystals pierced and clung to the air around her person. When caught in any light, her many silken curves and sharp, touch-enticing angles were sure to shine and sparkle like any glittering stretch of vicious, snowy landscape stricken by an aurora sky.
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Victor would stand in stark, comely contrast to his icy queen; a clean, expertly tailored suit comprised of almost-blacks and charcoals. Oddly enough, it brought to mind the snatches of matte, mottled earth the sun managed to expose despite the heavy, packed snow. His silvery hair, combed and caught into a neat, loose tail at his neck, along with his mana eye, metal wings, and a pair of highly appropriate cuff-links served as his only shinies to wink and pay homage to his lady's attire.
