Editing Shadow of a Different Sun

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"The Candle Extinguished!"  The Day caste slipped one arm up in a deceptively embracing gesture, while the other snapped forward with thumb extended to crush a pressure point just below her jawline.  Inky black essence roiled off of his arms as they slid through the combo.  Her skin flared with adamant essence, but then sudden shock registered on her features.
 
"The Candle Extinguished!"  The Day caste slipped one arm up in a deceptively embracing gesture, while the other snapped forward with thumb extended to crush a pressure point just below her jawline.  Inky black essence roiled off of his arms as they slid through the combo.  Her skin flared with adamant essence, but then sudden shock registered on her features.
  
Shadow of a Different Sun stepped back, smirking, while she stood uncomfortably, her limbs stiff and immobile.  "Still relying on Resistance Charms, even as a solar?  Looks like they're no better than ours, thank the Void.  I've got to go, but just you remember that I could have killed you tonight, or dragged you back to the Mask myself for his tender care.  You owe me."
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Shadow of a Different Sun stepped back, smirking, while she stood uncomfortably, her limbs stiff and immobile.  "Still relying on resistance charms, even as a solar?  Looks like their no better than ours, thank the void.  I've got to go, but just you remember that I could have killed you tonight, or dragged you back to the Mask myself for his tender care.  You owe me."
  
As he threw one leg over the window sill, he sneered back at her, "I'll be seeing you, Widow... ah, sorry, you have a new name now. Perhaps I'll call you the Once and Future Widow?  Say hi to your lover for me, this time; I'm supposed to be somewhere else."
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As he threw one leg over the window sill, he sneered back at her, "I'll be seeing you, Widow... ah, sorry, you have a new name now. Perhaps I'll call you the once and future widow?  Say hi to your lover for me, this time; I'm supposed to be somewhere else."
  
 
And he was gone.
 
And he was gone.
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----
 
----
  
He approached the tent warily, the spring in his step and twist of lips disappearing as he drew near.  The Walker in Darkness did not play favorites, but even so, Shadow of a Different Sun knew that he had never been entirely trusted.  His garment was blackened hemp, the sort that any cut-rate ninja-hopeful would wear, barely dignified by the skill that he wielded.  Every inch of his body from his jaw down was closely wrapped in the fabric, leaving only his ivory skin and raven feathered hair free in the wind.  He wore no artifacts, no wonders of the underworld.  He knew all too well why he had not received even the simplest of accouterments.  He had not yet been forgiven for his last incarnation's death.
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He approached the tent warily, the spring in his step twist of lips disappearing as he drew near.  The Walker in Darkness did not play favorites, but even so, Shadow of a Different Sun knew that he had never been entirely trusted.  His garment was blackened hemp, the sort that any cut-rate ninja-hopeful would wear, barely dignified by the skill that he wielded.  Every inch of his body from his jaw down was closely wrapped in the fabric, leaving only his ivory skin and raven feathered hair free in the wind.  He wore no artifacts, no wonders of the underworld.  He knew all to well why he had not received even the simplest of accouterments.  He had not yet been forgiven for his last incarnation's death.
  
 
The billowing black linen ran over his skin like oil over water as he entered the war pavilion.  Inside it was expansive, dim, and silent.  A single brazier by the throne did little to fill the shadows or warm the path.  As he entered, he instinctively spoke the charm to ward himself against his master’s liturgy; he already felt like a sniveling dog without the aid of magic.  She was there of course.  Her innumerable veils, as always, were settled about her delicate frame like layer upon layer of cobwebs on some long disused piece of elegant furniture.  She sat beside the Walker, leaning toward him.  They had been plotting again.
 
The billowing black linen ran over his skin like oil over water as he entered the war pavilion.  Inside it was expansive, dim, and silent.  A single brazier by the throne did little to fill the shadows or warm the path.  As he entered, he instinctively spoke the charm to ward himself against his master’s liturgy; he already felt like a sniveling dog without the aid of magic.  She was there of course.  Her innumerable veils, as always, were settled about her delicate frame like layer upon layer of cobwebs on some long disused piece of elegant furniture.  She sat beside the Walker, leaning toward him.  They had been plotting again.
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“And how did you find her?”
 
“And how did you find her?”
  
“A changed woman, in some respects.”
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“A changed woman.”
  
 
“So you do not deny that you have been conversing with members of that most dangerous circle?”
 
“So you do not deny that you have been conversing with members of that most dangerous circle?”

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