Porter watches, tired and smoking as usual. His hands are in his pockets and his hammers hang from his apron strap.
Thorne finishes up with one of the witnesses who saw the woman going with a younger woman out to the woods. He writes it down in his notepad and thanks them.
"Hey. Got something for ya." He walks over, a Polaroid photo in hand. "Animals probably got to it by now, but I can bring you to the spot if you think you'll find something." It's a photo of a bloody human jaw lying in the grass with a pair of dentures on it. "Didn't wanna touch anything that could help catch the killer."
He takes the picture and tilts his head "Ah, thank you." He said, his tone serious. "How did you find this if I may ask?" He raises a brow, pulling out his notepad.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
*For anyone*
Porter is maintaining his skill with his hammers, striking a dummy repeatedly as the bludgeons arc through the air, his hands barely touching them. Sparks of radiance splash out whenever he hits with particular fervor.
Omori is in the forest nearby when she sees Porter training, not recognizing him and approaching curiously, though maintaining distance as to not accidentally place herself in the path of any hammer strikes.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
"Hey. Got something for ya." He walks over, a Polaroid photo in hand. "Animals probably got to it by now, but I can bring you to the spot if you think you'll find something." It's a photo of a bloody human jaw lying in the grass with a pair of dentures on it. "Didn't wanna touch anything that could help catch the killer."
He takes the picture and tilts his head "Ah, thank you." He said, his tone serious. "How did you find this if I may ask?" He raises a brow, pulling out his notepad.
"I'm an exorcist by trade. I need to seek out signs of supernatural corruption constantly per my job description, but this doesn't look like the work of a Nightmare. I used to be a butcher, so I can recognize that these are knife cuts here... and here... but beyond that I got nothing. I don't have the authority to launch investigations into humanoids, so if it turns out to be a possessed person I'd like you to call me."
It looks back over at them. "...That is good... I... I am sorry for what happened... to the forest... to her... to Omori... to you..."
She thinks for a second, before trying the suggested technique- sure enough, it works. "How long have you been a monster hunter?" She asks.
“It ain’t nothin’ to nobody now, I forgive ya fer what ya did, anybody would’ve done it with as evil an influence as ya had on ya. Omori will learn ta forgive ya, long as ya keep on the straight and narrow.”
“20 years, started when I was twelve back when my uncle Rag used to teach me how. Got my license ten years ago, and my uncle started when he was 16.” He says, smiling back at them.
It seems... well, it's somewhat hard to read the emotions of a faceless possessed shadow. It almost looks like it might cry- though whether it even has the ability to do so is anyone's guess. "...Thank you... I will... I promise you..."
"I assume you've been on quite a large number of hunts, then. Do you have any that were your favorites?" She asks as she finishes sharpening the point of her lance.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
Misha is in her shop, nervously skinning the old woman she killed earlier. She is shaking like a leaf, clutching a cross she made of wood in her hand as she works.
Eithan politely knocks on the door outside of the butcher shop, though he doesn’t come inside. He’s holding what appears to be apology gift basket, an apologetic look on his face.
She peeks out and walks over, opening the door "What is wrong?" She asks, tilting her head.
He hands them the basket, bowing deeply out of respect “I apologize for the first impression I provided, and the fear I instilled into you when it happened, can you find it in your heart to forgive me?”
"I didn't feel fear.. well, a little, but it's nothing bad, it's fine." She tilts her head.
He sighs, standing back all the way up and smiling at them, “Wonderful, may I come inside, I would love to see your shop.”
It looks back over at them. "...That is good... I... I am sorry for what happened... to the forest... to her... to Omori... to you..."
She thinks for a second, before trying the suggested technique- sure enough, it works. "How long have you been a monster hunter?" She asks.
“It ain’t nothin’ to nobody now, I forgive ya fer what ya did, anybody would’ve done it with as evil an influence as ya had on ya. Omori will learn ta forgive ya, long as ya keep on the straight and narrow.”
“20 years, started when I was twelve back when my uncle Rag used to teach me how. Got my license ten years ago, and my uncle started when he was 16.” He says, smiling back at them.
It seems... well, it's somewhat hard to read the emotions of a faceless possessed shadow. It almost looks like it might cry- though whether it even has the ability to do so is anyone's guess. "...Thank you... I will... I promise you..."
"I assume you've been on quite a large number of hunts, then. Do you have any that were your favorites?" She asks as she finishes sharpening the point of her lance.
She wraps her arms around them, patting their back as much as she can, “There, there, sweetheart. Ya can cry if ya want ta, I ain’t gonna tell nobody, an’ I’ll be here fer ya all the while. Have ay thought up a name fer yerself yet?”
He thinks about it for a moment, before coming up with one “I’d have to say the Savage Deviljo, strongest monster that isn’t an elder dragon, physically the strongest out of all wyverns, and it has element destroying breath.”
"Hey. Got something for ya." He walks over, a Polaroid photo in hand. "Animals probably got to it by now, but I can bring you to the spot if you think you'll find something." It's a photo of a bloody human jaw lying in the grass with a pair of dentures on it. "Didn't wanna touch anything that could help catch the killer."
He takes the picture and tilts his head "Ah, thank you." He said, his tone serious. "How did you find this if I may ask?" He raises a brow, pulling out his notepad.
"I'm an exorcist by trade. I need to seek out signs of supernatural corruption constantly per my job description, but this doesn't look like the work of a Nightmare. I used to be a butcher, so I can recognize that these are knife cuts here... and here... but beyond that I got nothing. I don't have the authority to launch investigations into humanoids, so if it turns out to be a possessed person I'd like you to call me."
"Mn. I can assure you that I am more than well equipped to handle supernatural threats." He said and placed the picture into his notebook, noting down something in it before closing it.
Porter is maintaining his skill with his hammers, striking a dummy repeatedly as the bludgeons arc through the air, his hands barely touching them. Sparks of radiance splash out whenever he hits with particular fervor.
Omori is in the forest nearby when she sees Porter training, not recognizing him and approaching curiously, though maintaining distance as to not accidentally place herself in the path of any hammer strikes.
His nose twitches, and his gleaming, tired red eyes land on her. In an instant, the hammers are placed onto the string of his apron. "Hey. What's up?"
Misha is in her shop, nervously skinning the old woman she killed earlier. She is shaking like a leaf, clutching a cross she made of wood in her hand as she works.
Eithan politely knocks on the door outside of the butcher shop, though he doesn’t come inside. He’s holding what appears to be apology gift basket, an apologetic look on his face.
She peeks out and walks over, opening the door "What is wrong?" She asks, tilting her head.
He hands them the basket, bowing deeply out of respect “I apologize for the first impression I provided, and the fear I instilled into you when it happened, can you find it in your heart to forgive me?”
"I didn't feel fear.. well, a little, but it's nothing bad, it's fine." She tilts her head.
He sighs, standing back all the way up and smiling at them, “Wonderful, may I come inside, I would love to see your shop.”
Her eyes dart towards the back before her lips twitch, she slaps a hand over her mouth before anything happens. "You can but I'm afraid the back is messy at the moment."
Misha is in her shop, nervously skinning the old woman she killed earlier. She is shaking like a leaf, clutching a cross she made of wood in her hand as she works.
Eithan politely knocks on the door outside of the butcher shop, though he doesn’t come inside. He’s holding what appears to be apology gift basket, an apologetic look on his face.
She peeks out and walks over, opening the door "What is wrong?" She asks, tilting her head.
He hands them the basket, bowing deeply out of respect “I apologize for the first impression I provided, and the fear I instilled into you when it happened, can you find it in your heart to forgive me?”
"I didn't feel fear.. well, a little, but it's nothing bad, it's fine." She tilts her head.
He sighs, standing back all the way up and smiling at them, “Wonderful, may I come inside, I would love to see your shop.”
Her eyes dart towards the back before her lips twitch, she slaps a hand over her mouth before anything happens. "You can but I'm afraid the back is messy at the moment."
He looks at them, concerned for a moment before nodding, his gaze bringing a calming presence to them as he makes his way inside, taking off his helmet, and putting it under his arm, smelling the blood in the air, but not commenting on it.
"I'm an exorcist by trade. I need to seek out signs of supernatural corruption constantly per my job description, but this doesn't look like the work of a Nightmare. I used to be a butcher, so I can recognize that these are knife cuts here... and here... but beyond that I got nothing. I don't have the authority to launch investigations into humanoids, so if it turns out to be a possessed person I'd like you to call me."
"Mn. I can assure you that I am more than well equipped to handle supernatural threats." He said and placed the picture into his notebook, noting down something in it before closing it.
"Probably." He shrugs. "Sorry I couldn't be more help. I have my own stuff to take care of, and I'm worried about the local butcher, Misha, I think. I know how nasty the job is, and she's been struggling mentally." He lights a cigarette with a match and takes a drag.
Misha is in her shop, nervously skinning the old woman she killed earlier. She is shaking like a leaf, clutching a cross she made of wood in her hand as she works.
Eithan politely knocks on the door outside of the butcher shop, though he doesn’t come inside. He’s holding what appears to be apology gift basket, an apologetic look on his face.
She peeks out and walks over, opening the door "What is wrong?" She asks, tilting her head.
He hands them the basket, bowing deeply out of respect “I apologize for the first impression I provided, and the fear I instilled into you when it happened, can you find it in your heart to forgive me?”
"I didn't feel fear.. well, a little, but it's nothing bad, it's fine." She tilts her head.
He sighs, standing back all the way up and smiling at them, “Wonderful, may I come inside, I would love to see your shop.”
Her eyes dart towards the back before her lips twitch, she slaps a hand over her mouth before anything happens. "You can but I'm afraid the back is messy at the moment."
He looks at them, concerned for a moment before nodding, his gaze bringing a calming presence to them as he makes his way inside, taking off his helmet, and putting it under his arm, smelling the blood in the air, but not commenting on it.
She shows him everything in the front. Her plants, her working display case for the cuts, everything
It looks back over at them. "...That is good... I... I am sorry for what happened... to the forest... to her... to Omori... to you..."
She thinks for a second, before trying the suggested technique- sure enough, it works. "How long have you been a monster hunter?" She asks.
“It ain’t nothin’ to nobody now, I forgive ya fer what ya did, anybody would’ve done it with as evil an influence as ya had on ya. Omori will learn ta forgive ya, long as ya keep on the straight and narrow.”
“20 years, started when I was twelve back when my uncle Rag used to teach me how. Got my license ten years ago, and my uncle started when he was 16.” He says, smiling back at them.
It seems... well, it's somewhat hard to read the emotions of a faceless possessed shadow. It almost looks like it might cry- though whether it even has the ability to do so is anyone's guess. "...Thank you... I will... I promise you..."
"I assume you've been on quite a large number of hunts, then. Do you have any that were your favorites?" She asks as she finishes sharpening the point of her lance.
She wraps her arms around them, patting their back as much as she can, “There, there, sweetheart. Ya can cry if ya want ta, I ain’t gonna tell nobody, an’ I’ll be here fer ya all the while. Have ay thought up a name fer yerself yet?”
He thinks about it for a moment, before coming up with one “I’d have to say the Savage Deviljo, strongest monster that isn’t an elder dragon, physically the strongest out of all wyverns, and it has element destroying breath.”
They are silent for a while, and then, very faint, barely-audible sobbing can be heard from it, tears of shadowy ichor dripping from nonexistent eyes. After about a minute, it manages to utter one word. "...Amicus..."
She seems especially curious, producing the book about monster hunting she brought with her. "Which one is that? It sounds awesome."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
Misha is in her shop, nervously skinning the old woman she killed earlier. She is shaking like a leaf, clutching a cross she made of wood in her hand as she works.
Eithan politely knocks on the door outside of the butcher shop, though he doesn’t come inside. He’s holding what appears to be apology gift basket, an apologetic look on his face.
She peeks out and walks over, opening the door "What is wrong?" She asks, tilting her head.
He hands them the basket, bowing deeply out of respect “I apologize for the first impression I provided, and the fear I instilled into you when it happened, can you find it in your heart to forgive me?”
"I didn't feel fear.. well, a little, but it's nothing bad, it's fine." She tilts her head.
He sighs, standing back all the way up and smiling at them, “Wonderful, may I come inside, I would love to see your shop.”
Her eyes dart towards the back before her lips twitch, she slaps a hand over her mouth before anything happens. "You can but I'm afraid the back is messy at the moment."
He looks at them, concerned for a moment before nodding, his gaze bringing a calming presence to them as he makes his way inside, taking off his helmet, and putting it under his arm, smelling the blood in the air, but not commenting on it.
She shows him everything in the front. Her plants, her working display case for the cuts, everything
He looks at the plants lovingly, whispering some words to them and checking their health, he seems to be a real fan of them.
Porter is maintaining his skill with his hammers, striking a dummy repeatedly as the bludgeons arc through the air, his hands barely touching them. Sparks of radiance splash out whenever he hits with particular fervor.
Omori is in the forest nearby when she sees Porter training, not recognizing him and approaching curiously, though maintaining distance as to not accidentally place herself in the path of any hammer strikes.
His nose twitches, and his gleaming, tired red eyes land on her. In an instant, the hammers are placed onto the string of his apron. "Hey. What's up?"
"Hi!" The shadow child responds, a wide smile on her face. "I was just curious about what you're doing." She adds.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
It looks back over at them. "...That is good... I... I am sorry for what happened... to the forest... to her... to Omori... to you..."
She thinks for a second, before trying the suggested technique- sure enough, it works. "How long have you been a monster hunter?" She asks.
“It ain’t nothin’ to nobody now, I forgive ya fer what ya did, anybody would’ve done it with as evil an influence as ya had on ya. Omori will learn ta forgive ya, long as ya keep on the straight and narrow.”
“20 years, started when I was twelve back when my uncle Rag used to teach me how. Got my license ten years ago, and my uncle started when he was 16.” He says, smiling back at them.
It seems... well, it's somewhat hard to read the emotions of a faceless possessed shadow. It almost looks like it might cry- though whether it even has the ability to do so is anyone's guess. "...Thank you... I will... I promise you..."
"I assume you've been on quite a large number of hunts, then. Do you have any that were your favorites?" She asks as she finishes sharpening the point of her lance.
She wraps her arms around them, patting their back as much as she can, “There, there, sweetheart. Ya can cry if ya want ta, I ain’t gonna tell nobody, an’ I’ll be here fer ya all the while. Have ay thought up a name fer yerself yet?”
He thinks about it for a moment, before coming up with one “I’d have to say the Savage Deviljo, strongest monster that isn’t an elder dragon, physically the strongest out of all wyverns, and it has element destroying breath.”
They are silent for a while, and then, very faint, barely-audible sobbing can be heard from it, tears of shadowy ichor dripping from nonexistent eyes. After about a minute, it manages to utter one word. "...Amicus..."
She seems especially curious, producing the book about monster hunting she brought with her. "Which one is that? It sounds awesome."
She wipes the tears away from where they begin the only way a mother can, lovingly with a smile, “Amicus? It’s nice ta meet ya, Amicus. I love ya with all the love I’ve got fer all o’ my other children.” She says, patting their head.
“It’s the one that other hunters describe as a deadly pickle, it’s actually a more genetically advanced and combat experienced version of the regular Deviljo.” He shows them in the book.
"Well." she thinks a moment. "If you heard I eat babies, that's a lie. if you heard I cuddle anybody willing, that's true."
"Sorry, for such a random question.. I just, wondered." she smiles, hugging him. "I wouldn't think we're ready either."
"You'll wanna wrap that up soon, so I can bring the flow back."
"I only heard one of those things, and I wouldn't believe you ate babies." He says, ice cracking under his teeth.
"No, its perfectly fine. I had a son once before, but that was without you." He hugs them back, smiling "Maybe some day in the future, hopefully."
He nods, beginning to wrap them up, looking back to them "Thank you."
"Babies are too cute to eat." she smiles
"Once?... N-nevermind.. not important. Eventually, yes.. but, we might have to wed first."
"Of course." Normal blood flow rate returns when he's done.
He chuckles, putting his cup down, leaning back and pulling out his bango "Mind if I play?"
"Don't worry, he was adopted, though I loved him as if he were my own." He thinks for a moment before nodding "A marriage might be nice."
"What may I call you? Simply time or do you want something more respectful?"
"Not at all, go ahead." she leans the recliner back
"Soon, maybe?" she lets go of him.
"My name before it was Mistress Time was... oh, what was it.. Diana. But, Time is preferred, Diana if you don't."
He begins to play, humming along as he pulls swings with his claws, enjoying every moment.
His eyes widen, “Actually, that reminds me of something… wait, you want to get married… soon?”
He nods, ordering himself a glass of water, “Mistress Time it is then. After all, I have learned to respect gods greater than I.”
She taps her claw to the beat.
"I.. I do. You are absolutely the best thing in my hundreds of years.. I love you more than anything, Ragnerious... W-what were you gonna say though?"
"Thank you, Eithan." she leans back, the ticking returning to normal pace.
He changes pace consistently, singing along with the beat, having a wonderful time.
He shakes his head, before stepping back. He gives enough space for both of them to stand in the kitchen, before getting down on one knee, “I was going to ask you, well, you know.” He says with an awkward chuckle.
He leans back himself, taking his silver blade off of his back and looking into the reflection.
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He takes the picture and tilts his head "Ah, thank you." He said, his tone serious. "How did you find this if I may ask?" He raises a brow, pulling out his notepad.
𝔾𝕖𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕠𝕡 𝕤𝕙𝕖𝕝𝕗, 𝕕𝕠𝕦𝕓𝕝𝕖 𝕣𝕠𝕔𝕜𝕤, 𝕡𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕔𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝕀'𝕧𝕖 𝕞𝕚𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕦𝕟𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕦𝕞𝕓𝕝𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕔𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
𝔻𝕖𝕒𝕝 𝕞𝕖 𝕚𝕟, 𝕜𝕚𝕔𝕜 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕚𝕟 𝕦𝕡 𝕒 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝔻𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕚𝕟 𝕢𝕦𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕤𝕒𝕟𝕕'𝕤 𝕗𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕟 𝕤𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
Omori is in the forest nearby when she sees Porter training, not recognizing him and approaching curiously, though maintaining distance as to not accidentally place herself in the path of any hammer strikes.
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
"I'm an exorcist by trade. I need to seek out signs of supernatural corruption constantly per my job description, but this doesn't look like the work of a Nightmare. I used to be a butcher, so I can recognize that these are knife cuts here... and here... but beyond that I got nothing. I don't have the authority to launch investigations into humanoids, so if it turns out to be a possessed person I'd like you to call me."
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
It seems... well, it's somewhat hard to read the emotions of a faceless possessed shadow. It almost looks like it might cry- though whether it even has the ability to do so is anyone's guess. "...Thank you... I will... I promise you..."
"I assume you've been on quite a large number of hunts, then. Do you have any that were your favorites?" She asks as she finishes sharpening the point of her lance.
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
He sighs, standing back all the way up and smiling at them, “Wonderful, may I come inside, I would love to see your shop.”
She wraps her arms around them, patting their back as much as she can, “There, there, sweetheart. Ya can cry if ya want ta, I ain’t gonna tell nobody, an’ I’ll be here fer ya all the while. Have ay thought up a name fer yerself yet?”
He thinks about it for a moment, before coming up with one “I’d have to say the Savage Deviljo, strongest monster that isn’t an elder dragon, physically the strongest out of all wyverns, and it has element destroying breath.”
"Mn. I can assure you that I am more than well equipped to handle supernatural threats." He said and placed the picture into his notebook, noting down something in it before closing it.
𝔾𝕖𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕠𝕡 𝕤𝕙𝕖𝕝𝕗, 𝕕𝕠𝕦𝕓𝕝𝕖 𝕣𝕠𝕔𝕜𝕤, 𝕡𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕔𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝕀'𝕧𝕖 𝕞𝕚𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕦𝕟𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕦𝕞𝕓𝕝𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕔𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
𝔻𝕖𝕒𝕝 𝕞𝕖 𝕚𝕟, 𝕜𝕚𝕔𝕜 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕚𝕟 𝕦𝕡 𝕒 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝔻𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕚𝕟 𝕢𝕦𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕤𝕒𝕟𝕕'𝕤 𝕗𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕟 𝕤𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
His nose twitches, and his gleaming, tired red eyes land on her. In an instant, the hammers are placed onto the string of his apron. "Hey. What's up?"
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
Her eyes dart towards the back before her lips twitch, she slaps a hand over her mouth before anything happens. "You can but I'm afraid the back is messy at the moment."
𝔾𝕖𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕠𝕡 𝕤𝕙𝕖𝕝𝕗, 𝕕𝕠𝕦𝕓𝕝𝕖 𝕣𝕠𝕔𝕜𝕤, 𝕡𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕔𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝕀'𝕧𝕖 𝕞𝕚𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕦𝕟𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕦𝕞𝕓𝕝𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕔𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
𝔻𝕖𝕒𝕝 𝕞𝕖 𝕚𝕟, 𝕜𝕚𝕔𝕜 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕚𝕟 𝕦𝕡 𝕒 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝔻𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕚𝕟 𝕢𝕦𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕤𝕒𝕟𝕕'𝕤 𝕗𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕟 𝕤𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
He looks at them, concerned for a moment before nodding, his gaze bringing a calming presence to them as he makes his way inside, taking off his helmet, and putting it under his arm, smelling the blood in the air, but not commenting on it.
"Probably." He shrugs. "Sorry I couldn't be more help. I have my own stuff to take care of, and I'm worried about the local butcher, Misha, I think. I know how nasty the job is, and she's been struggling mentally." He lights a cigarette with a match and takes a drag.
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
She shows him everything in the front. Her plants, her working display case for the cuts, everything
𝔾𝕖𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕠𝕡 𝕤𝕙𝕖𝕝𝕗, 𝕕𝕠𝕦𝕓𝕝𝕖 𝕣𝕠𝕔𝕜𝕤, 𝕡𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕔𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝕀'𝕧𝕖 𝕞𝕚𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕦𝕟𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕦𝕞𝕓𝕝𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕔𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
𝔻𝕖𝕒𝕝 𝕞𝕖 𝕚𝕟, 𝕜𝕚𝕔𝕜 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕚𝕟 𝕦𝕡 𝕒 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝔻𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕚𝕟 𝕢𝕦𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕤𝕒𝕟𝕕'𝕤 𝕗𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕟 𝕤𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
They are silent for a while, and then, very faint, barely-audible sobbing can be heard from it, tears of shadowy ichor dripping from nonexistent eyes. After about a minute, it manages to utter one word. "...Amicus..."
She seems especially curious, producing the book about monster hunting she brought with her. "Which one is that? It sounds awesome."
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
He begins to play, humming along as he pulls swings with his claws, enjoying every moment.
His eyes widen, “Actually, that reminds me of something… wait, you want to get married… soon?”
He nods, ordering himself a glass of water, “Mistress Time it is then. After all, I have learned to respect gods greater than I.”
He looks at the plants lovingly, whispering some words to them and checking their health, he seems to be a real fan of them.
"Hi!" The shadow child responds, a wide smile on her face. "I was just curious about what you're doing." She adds.
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
She wipes the tears away from where they begin the only way a mother can, lovingly with a smile, “Amicus? It’s nice ta meet ya, Amicus. I love ya with all the love I’ve got fer all o’ my other children.” She says, patting their head.
“It’s the one that other hunters describe as a deadly pickle, it’s actually a more genetically advanced and combat experienced version of the regular Deviljo.” He shows them in the book.
He changes pace consistently, singing along with the beat, having a wonderful time.
He shakes his head, before stepping back. He gives enough space for both of them to stand in the kitchen, before getting down on one knee, “I was going to ask you, well, you know.” He says with an awkward chuckle.
He leans back himself, taking his silver blade off of his back and looking into the reflection.