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It's not often Cipher spends time around other Chrysos Heirs. To be honest, she just doesn't spend much time in Okhema anymore. She has her reasons, but that does mean she's forgotten how persistent Phainon can be when he's decided on something.
“C'mon, Cipher. We never see you anymore. Neither of us are on a mission. You gotta have time for a chat.”
Cipher frowns from her perch. Sure, she had time, but this moment is one of the very few where she's decided to try her hand at a little project she hasn't touched in ages. She decides to ignore Phainon; maybe he'll get distracted by something else.
...except, he's definitely a dog with a bone, and she feels the pillar she's perched on shake as Phainon makes his way up. “Hey!” she shouts, but Phainon gracefully makes his way to the top.
He only almost tumbles off, and Cipher sighs as she grabs the back of his collar to save him from a nasty fall. “You are so annoying. You made me skip a stitch,” she grumbles as she gets comfortable again with her project.
Out of the corner of her eye, she can see Phainon's face scrunch up in confusion as she maneuvers the hoop in her hand and undoes a stitch. “You can embroider?” he asks, almost incredulously.
Cipher looks up at the white haired man with a bored look. “It's just fancy sewing, Deliverer boy.”
“You can sew?”
“Of course, I can,” Cipher replies, stitching a small, golden flower just off center of the hoop. “Do you think miss Goldweaver would have let a little urchin like me get away without a bit of knowledge over the past 1000 years?”
Phainon stares at her contemplatively, tapping his chin. “Fair enough, I guess...” he trails off. “How did she get you to sit still enough to learn either skill?”
Cipher huffs as she decides to do a few fancier stitches to show off while thinking her words over carefully. “She has her ways...” she states then grins. “Escaping her golden threads is difficult, you know.”
“That's true,” Phainon agrees with a nod then frowns as he sees a smile forming on Cipher's face. “Hey, you met Aglaea before she had that power!”
“Who can say,” she replies cheekily as she checks her work; there's a small field of golden flowers with a small, gray cat sleeping peacefully in the center. “You think it measures up to the Goldweaver's elegant tastes? Hmm, probably not.”
With that, she tosses her finished work into Phainon's lap as she zips away, disappearing as she hears Phainon fumble and shout after her. It's not like she can seek out Aglaea, so why not let the Deliverer deliver a present? If she runs into Phainon in the future, she'll hear about her reaction. That's all she can really have, after all. It's for the best.