[attr="class","forgetme-words"] Urella laid on her bed made of leaves from The Grand Tree that the elves lived on or in. She wasn't sure why exactly these leaves were different from the ones near the Witch's Coven but alas, she had to get her hands on some. [break][break]
Urella sat up and looked around, as if forgetting where she was momentarily. It seemed to click and the Witch yawned, flicked her wrist and her curtains spread open to reveal a view of a small pond. [break][break]
Same view day in and day out. Pavane was becoming a right bore as the days passed. It was rare for someone to come to her door, let alone make a wish. There was an odd energy around the city which made approaching strangers rather difficult. [break][break]
The witch shrugged and readied for a day. She combed through her nest of waist-length hair with her fingers and stared into a basin of water held up against her wall for reflection. Meh. Hair looked the same as always. [break][break]
Urella opted for a bright green and pink dress, adorned her hair with red, purple, and blue trinkets and set her dark hat on her head before heading out. Not quite sure of her destination, Urella headed for the forest in search of a nightshade plant for a potion. Her trusty bag full of empty vials sat on her left hip, ready for extracting plant juices.[break][break]
She wasn't getting wishes but requests for effective potions kept her busy enough. The witch passed by various plants, motioned her hand, and the plants wilted, blackened and finally became mush. Liquids of several colors filled the glass vials she uncorked. Once filled, Urella set the vials back into her bag and continued these motions for quite a bit. [break][break]
'Who do I need to threaten to make a wish for me?'[break][break]
She grumbled audibly.[break][break]
'Not that it would work since I'd have to look tempting enough. No one wants to make a wish from a demon right?'[break][break]
She sighed. More hand motions, more liquids floated from the nearby plants into vials. Rinse and repeat. Urella did little thinking as she walked deeper and deeper into the forest, her mind wandering elsewhere.
Amon had woken up even before the sunlight could bathe him in its warmth and he had gone through his typical morning routine of meditation and practice, so he was free to do with his day as he saw fit, be it to visit people, play his flute, or even paint. In typical fashion, however, he had decided to spend more time in meditation and he continued to sit upon his stone in the middle of a large clearing, unmoving and relaxed. Even as another inhabitant of the forest had come to him like they had a habit of, this time as a small bird resting up right shoulder, the demon wasn't affected and remained still.
Only a couple of hours later, after Amon's senses picked up someone approaching where he was, did he give the slightest notion of a reaction with a small twitch. It was someone of short stature, a girl- no, a woman to Amon, as her childish proportions belied the amount of time she had been alive. Her being was quite unique to someone with the sixth sense that he had, the way it spoke unlike any other he had come across before, but the closest the demon could compare her to was a witch, even if she had been around far longer than any witch Amon had 'seen' before.
Though not able to clearly figure out what the woman getting ever so close to where the demon was, Amon chose to simply remain in his place and raised his left hand slowly to gently scratch the bird on his shoulder. He couldn't sense any real underlying hostility in her and she was in a relaxed state, if not a bit frustrated, so the demon believed her to be of no threat. Honestly, he was curious about this witch whose being 'spoke' so strangely to him.
He waited for a moment and the incredibly short witch would finally arrive to the large clearing Amon called home, him still giving scritches to the tiny avian on his shoulder while sitting on his stone in the middle, a small shack on the edge of it with a pond and what seemed like a small field next to it. Though he had no eyes with which to see, the demon turned his head to the direction where she was at to let her know he was aware of her. He'd offer her the tiniest hint of a smile and a greeting in an absolutely calm tone. "Good morning."
« tag: Urella Flora // notes: anything I can get for you? »
[attr="class","forgetme-words"] To say Urella was absent-minded would be an understatement. This witch wandered for who knows how long and when she finally stopped her musings. She looked around and found herself at the edge of a...clearing? [break][break]
Bright green eyes took a good look at her surroundings, unaware of the man sitting at the center as she was off to the side. Urella had to admit, she wasn't one for appreciating the beauties in things but the amount of flowers surrounding this place and the small pond off to the side felt sort of... what was the word... serene? [break][break]
Urella wandered towards the center of the clearing, her slitted eyes darting off to the sides at the numerous plants. She liked the place but with all the plants, surely she'd find something valuable. Mid step, she heard a simple 'good morning'.[break][break]
Urella startled so sharply, the vial that was in her hand flew up. She pulled some maneuvers that probably shouldn't be possible, trying to catch the vial before it fell. Unfortunately, she only managed to smack it away from her reach and it landed in a pile of flowers near the rock the demon sat on. The flowers promptly wilted.[break][break]
A delicate eyebrow twitched in annoyance. That was a bottle of nightshade. She hoped whoever they were, they stepped into it.[break][break]
Contrary to her inner-thoughts, Urella gave a childish smile and gave a curtsy bow without really looking at the owner of the voice.[break][break]
"How do you do?" She asked with a small voice, "I seem to have wandered pretty far huh?"[break][break]
Urella looked up and flustered for a moment. The witch wasn't used to people with no tops on, let alone big shackles. She remarked his eyes were closed. Well, if she was curious about the clearing that didn't even begin to describe her curiosity for th-- her eyes glanced at the dark purple tattoo and paused. What was he?[break][break]
"Many know me as Urella. What do you call yourself by?"
The witch had been even more in her own world than Amon could've guessed, as she was completely caught off guard by his greeting and in surprise dropped a vial with contents that the demon could tell weren't the most pleasant.
She fumbled around for a moment, Amon sensing her panic and hearing the shuffling of grass with each hurried step taken. At this moment the bird on his shoulder made its leave, scared off by the wild movements of the tiny woman before them right as the vial fell onto the ground despite her best efforts.
Where the vial had fallen, both grass and flowers at first so vibrant and full of life quickly wilted into nothing but death. Amon's subtle smile turned into the tiniest of frowns for the dead flowers while the witch herself was annoyed, blaming the demon for that little fumble of hers. The wilted plantlife had his concern for a moment, but they quickly calmed down as the effects of whatever was inside the vial didn't spread.
She then began to speak in a tone Amon wasn't expecting, her coming off a lot more like a child than someone of her age and she kept that frustration of hers hidden, quite obviously not out of courtesy. But, Amon wasn't insulted by this and only made a mental note of the character of the witch. "I am doing quite well. Thank you for asking," he replied in just as calm a tone as before and bowed his head a tiny bit in return to the witch before continuing, "And you certainly have. You don't often come across people this deep into the woods."
The witch then looked straight at the demon, something she hadn't done up till this point, and to his surprise what he sensed first was her being flustered, something that raised Amon's brow for a moment. Whether he poses that intimidating or unique of a look in the witch's eyes or was it something else, Amon couldn't tell, but she quickly composed herself and soon was simply filled with curiosity.
After supposedly done with her inspection of the demon, the tiny woman introduced herself as Urella. "I call myself Amon. It is a pleasure to meet you, Urella," he smiled faintly once more as he introduced himself, as he raised his hand pointed at the small shack. "Though I don't have much, it'd be a shame to not treat a guest, even if they arrived by accident. Would you like something?" Amon didn't need to consume anything to survive, so he didn't have the need to stock up on things like plenty of others, but he did have a bit of this and that in the case he ever got into the mood to enjoy some.
[attr="class","forgetme-words"] Soon after introducing herself, Amon introduced himself and Urella nodded. Amon. That wasn't a name she knew. The man seemed pleasant enough. He confused her when his finger pointed straight at a shack. The man's eyes were still closed. How did he know where his shack was? [break][break]
Confused, Urella wondered if it would be a good time to ask about his eyes. Was he blind or did he simply prefer to keep his eyes closed. Urella looked around momentarily and nodded again, it was rather bright out. [break][break]
At Amon's offer, Urella thought for a moment--wary. Despite seeming pleasant, Urella wasn't sure if accepting his offer was a good idea. She didn't want to appear decided so she agreed,[break][break]
"I'd love to," she smiled brightly, hoping her bright persona might make her seem trust-worthy.[break][break]
'Not that he can see me right now or anything,' the witch thought.[break][break]
Urella turned towards the shack and started her way over. She wasn't quite sure how to proceed with this guy so the witch opted for the easiest one. Questions.[break][break]
"Why don't you open your eyes?" She asked innocently, "I hope they don't hurt."
Urella was wary of the offer the demon had given, though Amon certainly didn't blame her for it. They were complete strangers to each other, after all. Instead of showing this wariness in her tone as she accepted the offer, however, she hid it behind her cheerful tone. He couldn't help but wonder was it simply to hide her true feelings or did she wish to seem more pleasant. She seemed quite accustomed to doing so, and without Amon being able to 'see' how she actually felt, he'd buy her false tone as true, so a bad actor she wasn't.
The witch began to make her way towards Amon's shack, and he stood up from his stone, following behind her and quickly catching up to her thanks to the difference in the length of their step. The demon quite easily towered over the woman short in stature.
For a moment the two were quiet and only the rustling of grass, jingle of shackles, shuffling of the two's clothing, and a gentle wind could be heard, but the ever so childish tone of the witch broke that silence between the pai. Her tone, as well as words, showed concern this time, which hid away the curiosity she felt towards the demon's closed eyes. It wasn't a topic he was the least bit sensitive about, so to him, it felt amusingly pointless for the witch to hide her genuine curiosity.
"I removed my eyes many millennia ago. You don't need to worry about me," he replied with a smile of appreciation, which was genuine even though the witch's concern wasn't.
The pair arrived at the shack just as the demon had made his reply and he pushed the door open gently, the jingle of his shackles clear as he moved his hand and showed with his other hand for Urella to enter first. The door revealed the inside's of the small wooden cabin to be just as small as it looked like from the outside. And rather than looking like something that was used to live in, the place seemed more like a storage, with each corner covered in stacks of paper and scrolls with the occasional jars and boxes of various sizes next to them while the walls themselves, with the one opposite of the door being an exception, being covered completely by paintings of nature and the occasional animal or person and scrolls filled with rather uncommon symbols with some looking decades if not centuries old while some seemed rather new in comparison. In the mess that was the insides of the hermit's humble little hut two things that stood out the most was a single large and tattered scroll hanging in the middle of the wall facing the door with two symbols (激怒) painted onto them with clear and intense strokes, and the center of the hut where there lied four pillows that had seen better days, tattered and patch filled, and what seemed like a large square on the floor, being a makeshift lid for a hole there. "Please, take a seat. They're not in the best of conditions, but I assure you that they are very comfortable," Amon told his guest with a smile as he entered the hut after her, moving his hand with a jingle to point at the worn pillows.
[attr="class","forgetme-words"] As Urella followed the man, she took the chance to glance at him from where she stood then looked forward again. Those shackles of his looked much too big for someone like him. Then again, Urella eyes went back to his form, he looked pretty bulky. Not that there weren't many bulky citizens here but not many focused on physical training. Either way, he was still peculiar.[break][break]
"I removed my eyes many millennia ago. You don't need to worry about me," she heard him say. [break][break]
If Urella was the type to express her emotions openly, one might have thought her eyes would leave her head considering how much she would have widened them. He removed it himself? She wasn't sure as both her eyes were perfectly fine but...didn't that hurt? She thought to ask another question but they were almost at the shack and the witch needed more time to formulate a question. She set his comment to the back of her mind to think on later. [break][break]
'Good thing this guy is blind,' Urella thought for the umptieth time. Maybe she would hang around this guy some more, it was nice not being forced to control her facial expressions.[break][break]
Well. She still did but the witch enjoyed the illusion of choice.[break][break]
Once arrived at the shack, Urella glanced around. It looked shabby from afar but even shabbier up close. She glanced over at the guy again with a feeling of slight pity, he lived like this?[break][break]
The witch accepted the offer and walked inside. Oh dear. Had she felt the shack looked shabby from the outside, the inside might be worse if that was at all possible. There were stacks of papers all over and some appeared to be empty. On the walls were paintings and entranced, Urella stepped forward to take a closer look. Nature and such. [break][break]
It is said that one's paintings reflect their true nature. Either the saying is wrong or all Amon thinks about is nature and animals. She turned back towards Amon and noticed the scroll hanging on the wall with the symbols.[break][break]
"What does the symbol mean?" She asked, genuinely curious. [break][break]
Urella took his offer and sat on the pillows. He was right, they were more comfortable than they looked. She shifted a few times to get to a better position (and to feel the pillows a bit more without being weird about it).[break][break]
It was only then that it struck her,[break][break]
"I removed my eyes many millennia ago."[break][break]
"many millennia"[break][break]
Well. Demon seems to be the only logical explanation. Now, Urella disliked being around demons which wasn't fair to them but she was only looking out for herself. Them being unable to control their sin is terrible. Not knowing what ticks them off is even worse.[break][break]
She kind of liked the serenity of the guy so Urella opted for a quick and straight to the point question, "Your sin, what agitates it?" Better to get it out of the way than to accidentally trigger the guy. Urella could certainly take care of herself if need be but she imagined it would take a lot of effort to beat a demon that's been around for several millennia.
Everything that Urella had felt in the things she heard Amon say and saw was something the demon had expected, with her asking about the sole scroll on one of the walls out of curiosity not being an exception. He for a moment had his face fixated straight at the scroll, with him remembering with fondness the time he spent with a calligrapher over three millennia ago to learn a rather unique writing system their family had developed, with the scroll having been one of the very first things he had learned and gained the approval of his friend as a good work. The scroll "spoke" to Amon like always, telling, screaming even, of an uncontrollable rage, a hatred towards the demon himself and those who had dared to hurt what he cared for, and a declaration of a cruel and unforgiving judgment. The calligraphy with its intense strokes was something that expressed what he feared in himself the most, an everpresent reminder of what he could become and only a single word could truly express what it meant, even if it did no justice to how deep the emotion, his sin, was rooted in the ink and himself. "Wrath."
As the witch went to take a seat on the pillows, Amon followed right after and took a seat on the floor, without a pillow and legs crossed. He spent so much of his time meditating on the stone that at this point the demon might be able to say truthfully that he was more comfortable with a hard surface than a soft one. At the very least he didn't need one and left the witch to take as many more as she wanted.
He reached out to grab the loose square on the floor but stopped his motion at the question about his sin. The witch truly was direct, and the hermit appreciated it, even if the concern she had was more or less unnecessary. "You don't need to concern yourself too much around me, Urella," Amon answered with a tone of calm, raising his right hand to present his mark of the lion, its eyes giving a faint glow of crimson. "I have dedicated my being to control my sin, nor do I have something I care for deeply enough to lose."
Done with his reply, the demon lowered his raised hand and went back to taking hold of the loose board, raising it to reveal a small storage filled with bottles, pouches, bowls, a couple of cups, and some lonesome items, like a teapot and a pot, everything being in good condition but showing obvious signs of being rather old. "Is there anything you'd like specifically? I have quite a few options here; water, juice, tea, coffee," he listed options to the witch, as he raised two bottles and pouches for his guest to choose from. He wasn't finished yet, however, and with a hint of a smirk, he continued. "Or, if you're a fan of something stronger, I have some rice wine I'm quite proud of." A bottle, its contents completely clear, was brought next to the options presented before by the same large hand.
While Amon would wait for the witch to choose what she wanted, the demon dug out from his little storage a small package with a cloth wrapped around it, the cloth easily being one of the newest things the demon owned, barely a year old and surprisingly cutesy in its calming image of cherry blossoms and gentle clouds on an otherwise sky blue cloth. Unwrapping the cloth itself revealed a nice stack of rice crackers, something that wasn't exactly filling but certainly nice to snack on with a drink.
« tag: Urella Flora // notes: I appreciate it very much»
[attr="class","forgetme-words"] At the mention of what the scroll said, Urella stiffened. Wrath demons were the worst of the worst. She had half a mind to just bolt out of the shack and never look back but a thought stopped her. The thought that Urella had never met a wrath demon who exerted so much serenity. [break][break]
She watched him pull loose squares on the floor and thought that explained the sounds she made passing by. [break][break]
While listening on, Urella opened her mouth to ask a question before closing it again. Amon hadn't finished talking. Nothing to lose huh? Yes, Urella understood that mentality. That was the reason her memories were practically non-existent when it concerns other people. After all, if she managed to get attached it meant an instant-wipe of her memories of that person. Urella had too much to do and focusing on relations would not bode well for her endgame.[break][break]
"Yes," She muttered, nodding absentmindedly "I don't have anything to lose either."[break][break]
The witch thought for a moment on what it might feel like to have people she cared for but could not remember an instance of that happening so she let it go. [break][break]
At the offer of drinks, Urella gave a genuine smile. Drinks were something she allowed herself to indulge in. Most of the things she digested had poison though and she doubted Amon would partake in such indulges. [break][break]
Urella suddenly remembered she had several things in her pouch to munch on while she gathered materials. [break][break]
"I have a few things to offer as well if you'd like."[break][break]
She reached into her pouch. The witch's arm reached far into her bag, enough that almost her whole arm fit in. This would look odd to anyone as it meant the bag was much bigger than it appeared but Urella remembered that Amon was blind. He would not notice such things according to her.[break][break]
She pulled out apples, animal-shaped crackers that she personally made, along with a small pouch containing several aromatic herbs for tea. Urella set the apples and crackers in front of Amon for him to easily access. Then she snapped her fingers and Amon's teapot floated over to Urella. The witch snuffed some minty herbs along with a few petals of a plant that had a calming effect. Urella twirled a symbol on the pot that filled it with water and then she tapped the pot with her index and middle fingers. The pot began turning orange from heat. [break][break]
Urella noted it wouldn't take long and soon after, she snapped twice and pulled forward two cups. With a wrist flick, both cups were filled decently with the tea she brewed. The witch offered one to Amon before wondering how he would know she was offering him a cup.[break][break]
Deciding it might just be faster, she grabbed his hand and opened it to where his palm was upwards. Urella set the cup into his cup and waited a moment to make sure he had a grip and that it would not spill. After doing so, Urella set herself to her own cup and took a sip. She sighed, satisfied. This never got old.[break][break]
"Sorry for touching you and all, I figured it'd be faster than having to explain to you where the cup is," Urella mentioned. She didn't stay quiet for long however and decided now would be the best time to ask all the questions she had.[break][break]
"So why did you spend so much time controlling your sin? Most demons your kind don't."[break][break]
"Oh, I tend to add some alcohol to my teas if that's your fancy. It goes quite well. I only drink at home though but thank you for the offer."[break][break] "Also, how long did it take you to control it?"[break][break]
"Do you have full control?"[break][break]
She reached for a cracker from Amon's cloth and took a bit. A couple of crumb bits snapped and fell onto the shack floor. Urella motioned with her hand and the crumbs disappeared. She hated leaving a mess.[break][break]
"Thanks for the crackers by the way, they're pretty delicious. I have some too. They're set in front of you along with some fruit."[break][break] "How old are you exactly?"[break][break]
It's been a while since Urella found anything remotely interesting in this boring world. After spending countless years studying, not to mention all the memories that were transferred to her at her birth, it made most things boring and unbearable. This unfortunately meant that she had little to no filter when it came to something interesting.
The witch’s word had Amon think for a bit, as he could feel Urella being somewhat similar to him on the mentality of having nothing to lose, yet they were quite different. She was almost empty, her feelings backed by what felt like a void in comparison to the over six thousand years of memories the demon had. It certainly wasn’t because she was young, but more like she herself had barely any memories matching her age. He kept listening to the witch’s ‘voice’, sensing a moment of thought and a slight longing.
Those feelings were tossed aside, however, at the mention of some drinks and the witch seemed to even get a bit excited. The demon quietly listened and observed with a smile as Urella started to act like she was the host. From her bringing out her own treats from an enchanted bag to her making the tea for the two, which Amon did appreciate greatly even if he was more in the mood for some rice wine and was quite sure the tea would end up being too hot for his tongue but was incapable of bringing himself to say anything to dampen the child-like witch’s mood.
He kept allowing the witch to act as the host here, as she took hold of Amon’s hand and gave him his cup of tea. Amon was certainly capable of taking care of himself despite his lack of eyes, but there was something nice in being given a hand like that and he wasn’t going to complain. It also told a lot about the woman herself, as her behavior seemed rather natural and her ‘voice’ didn’t give out any ulterior motives. “It’s fine. I appreciate your kindness, even if it makes me look like a bad host,” the demon chuckled, as he raised his cup to blow on it. It might take some time for it to cool down to a degree where he can be comfortable drinking it, but the aroma of the tea certainly was tempting.
The witch kept acting two or three steps ahead of the Amon still blowing on his tea, the former seeming to keep getting more and more excited with every word she uttered. The demon chuckled once again, not having had such energetic company in quite some time to spice up his calm days. It might not be something he longed for, but it certainly was appreciated. “Well, we can start with the easy question and go from there,” the man calmly began, reaching out to grab one of Urella’s own crackers while giving an appreciating nod to the witch, “I’ve been for about six and a half millennia as one of the very first angels.” To some, the declaration of his age and origin might’ve held some weight, but at this point, it was so far in the past for him that it was only a simple fact to be stated. Age was but a number which meant nothing to an unaging being, and he had abandoned his past self.
“As for why,” Amon paused in search for the right words to use as he played around with the cracker in his fingers, somehow trying to condense his five and a half millennia of self-restraint into only a sentence or two. Memories thousands of years old yet somehow so clear flashed in his mind and he felt like he found what he was looking for. “Wrath, especially mine, is far too vile and cold. It was so intense that it consumed me, and I never wish for that to happen again. I want to contain my sin for that, as well as to repent for my past crimes.” The demon was quiet for a moment in deep thought, even if his face was completely calm, holding onto the cracker he had deemed to be in the shape of a lion -ironically enough- after his thorough inspection.
Snapping out of his thoughts with little change in his expression Amon returned to ask the witch’s questions. "And the control of my wrath I have I’d say is quite good, though there will always be more to improve. Though I’m confident nothing short of something really big triggering my anger will have me overwhelmed,” he continued just as calm as ever, "and I never have really followed the passage of time, so I can’t give you any exact days or months, but the answer would be about two thousand years.” It was tough to estimate exactly when he had control of his sin truly, so Amon’s answer on the time it took was more or less a rough estimate.
Eating the lion cracker in his hands finally as a whole, the demon took a moment to appreciate the gentle but great taste of the treat before giving the witch a smile. “What about you?” It was now his turn to ask a couple of questions. “Are these questions out of pure curiosity or are they for research? What about your reasons to visit the forest? And you mind giving me the recipe to these biscuits? They’re just wonderful.” His questions weren’t quite as personal, as some might call them, but they were still ones the demon wanted answers for.
[attr="class","forgetme-words"] Urella casually sipped on her almost scalding tea. It burned her tongue and her throat on the way day while settling in her stomach with a comforting warmth that made the burn worth it. Her tongue reddened from the abuse and Urella had not noticed.[break][break]
"Hmmm," She took another sip, "six and a half millennia huh?" [break][break]
Another sip and the witch lowered her cup to her lap. Thinking back on her inherited memories, Urella roughly calculated the age of Pavane and true enough, it was about his age. [break][break]
"Man, you're old." Others might have not chosen to say those words but Urella didn't have a filter when she felt comfortable. Plus, who was she to judge anyway. She wasn't sure how much time she'd spent here due to all the memory swipes "Shouldn't you not tell me that you've been here that long?"[break][break]
The witch thought on that for a moment before realizing that he didn't lose much from admitting it. Urella wondered if she should ask about Pavane's history, the parts she didn't have access to from her memories and decided against it. That wasn't interesting at the moment.[break][break]
"If you can control it, I wonder why other demons don't do the same. Sure it doesn't go away completely but at least those demons wouldn't be slaves to their sin." This was mostly Urella thinking out loud. [break][break]
The witch nodded at his explanation of his control. Sounded rather straightforward and she had no questions regarding that at that moment. Either way, it helped the witch get more comfortable in his presence knowing he spent over two millennia in control. [break][break]
Urella wasn't prepared for the questions he asked in return. Usually, people weren't interested enough to ask her questions about herself. It was mostly answering Urella's questions to get away from the girl. [break][break]
"Well what about me?" She asked taking another sip, her tea had gone warm so she warmed it up while smoothing the cup with her hands.[break][break]
"Oh. Just pure curiosity right now. Surely you know that it's pretty rare to find a demon who spent so much time and effort controlling their sin. I've always hated wrath and pride demons in particular," Her eyes widened almost immediately realizing her words, "Well, obviously I don't feel that way about you now."[break][break]
She flustered again at how that sounded, "Not that I felt that way about you before either."[break][break]
The witch looked away while she clicked her teeth in her annoyance. She hated fumbling over words. Then she looked back towards Amon's direction.[break][break]
"Well you know what I meant. Also I came out here for some nightshade plants for a requested potion. I'm meant to brew and deliver it by tomorrow" She wondered if she was being too curt in her answers but Urella truly didn't find her life fascinating enough to elaborate. Hopefully he didn't ask her what potion she was brewing with some poisonous plants. Naturally the witch knew she wouldn't lie about it but it's uncomfortable saying something like 'this halfling girl has an abusive husband she wants to take care of'[break][break]
"Those treats were unfortunately not made by me. It was made by one of my customers as a thank you. I'll gladly ask them for you next time."[break][break]
The witch glanced at his beverage and asked, "want me to heat that up for you? Teas are best when they burn on the way down as you should know." The witch had not noticed Amon's wariness of the liquid's heat.
[attr="class","forgetme-notes"] muahahaha. I mean honestly you were going to make her wait for the fire to heat up and all that? much quicker this way my friend
Living in a dystopian society, seven mystic races are trapped due to their own selfishness. Tensions rise between the races and the different social classes, leading up to the constant struggle for power, with no end in sight.
News
4/11 - With the Ghoul Purge complete, Pavane's fear shifts from the goddesses towards the Council. Check out the aftermath here to get an understanding of the current situation in the plot.
MYSTICAL SOULS belongs to YUMEKUI, DYLZOE AND LUNARIS. This is an original plot created by staff members.. The skin "Midnight Madness" was created by Dorothia. This includes Board Mod, Mini-Profile Mod and such. Thread list was made by Kagney. User Profile mod was made by Pharaoh Leap. Graphics belong to their rightful owner. Plagiarism is not appreciated and will not be tolerated.
