Fantasy 𝐅𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐫 𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐬 | 𝐌𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝

[rakshasa]

​

 

[rakshasa]

scroll

sunday market

market

no one and everyone

oh boy here it is

It’s Sunday morning and the sun is rising over Asphodel Isles. On dirt roads, it glints and sparkles in mud puddles and in the citadel, its glass minarets catch rays of gold and bathe the city in shimmering glory. In some homes, witches stretch and groan to life, beginning their daily routines, while past the edge of town, necromancers yawn and curl up between their sheets. Many, however, are dressed and ready, flooding the busy streets with activity.

On Sunday mornings, artisans, smiths and amateurs alike gather to sell their wares at the weekly market, held in town square. Hundreds of stands and shop fronts pop up overnight, attracting thousands of customers, catching even more in the current of the herds that gather around it and attracting tourists who wish to witness its spectacle. Clustered wall to wall, sellers try their hardest to stand out among the crowd, shouting their own slogans, displaying as much of their product as they can to attract even more buyers, setting off flashy illusion spells, etc. It’s hard to hear yourself think in such a place, shoulder to shoulder with your fellow witch. It’s also hard to notice the little black cat weaving through the crowds, ducking past shuffling feet and hooves.

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[BriiAngelic]

• Bridgette || Sweethearted Succubus

• 
  
  
  
  Interacting With/Mentions:
  No one at the moment (PLEASE INTERACT WITH HER)
  

  ~ The Market ~
  ~ Early Morning~
  
  Bridgette's CS File || Bird's Eye Brae
  
  Bright lights shone through the citadel as she awoke. Like usual there was the sound of silence as she rose from her bed. The clock struck and sounded with a chime signalling the start of her day. She prepared her clothes for the day and began her morning routine of filling the tub. The ease of bathing was the most pleasant upgrade she’d found living with the Charm witch. It was almost enough for her to start giving into his way of thinking.
  
  It was a dream to suddenly have such luxuries living in the Queen’s towers. So it really wasn’t much of an issue knowing she would always be second to these luxuries. She turned the tap off as she went to wake up her witch. She gave a short knock before barging her way into her witch’s room quickly striding the room to go through the daily ritual of yanking the sheets off and forcing the witch awake.
  
  “EMILIO WAKE UP”
  
  Yet as she yanked she found no one there but the pile of pillows littering the bed. With confusion she began to pick up the pillows she had knocked to the floor.
  
  
  “Huh… guess that’s breakfast for one…”
  
  Without thinking much upon it she began to make the bed for the day. It wasn’t the first time she’d found the house empty, and she knew no doubt whenever he’d wandered back from whence he’d scurried off to he’d expect a well put together household. She did a quick tidying before rushing to enjoy the bath she drew.
  
  “Ahhhh, this is the life….. Still its surprising he didn’t wake me up to feed him….”
  
  
  She pushed the thought out of her mind as she washed her little wings with tender care. As she finished up she found herself flittering to the back room of their abode flicking on the range. She made quick work of cutting up potatoes and cured meat leaving it to bake to her morning hash.
  
  “Delicious! And I’m talking to myself again…. Its so lonely up in here…I pioppi, curvati dal vento”
  
  
  By the time she’d finished her food and her song she was beginning to get the feeling that if she wished to find her witch she’d need to hunt him down herself. She had no particular inclination to but she was being to grow bored with ever passing moment in solitude. Well no time like the present.
  
  She picked up what little funds she had to her own name as she figured she could also make a trip to the market and buy food to cook for dinner while she was at it. Stepping out into the sun she rose a hand to above her eyes as she took in the sights and smells of the market.
  
  “Emillllllllllliooooooooo~”
  

 

[Tau]

Amira yawned, stretching out her arms as she slowly awoke from sleep. As she stirred, her pile of treasures made a soft clattering noise, as they tended to do when one curled around them like a dragon guarding its hoard.

Except her hoard was a soft bed. It still felt strange, having an actual bed, though Amira had done everything she could to stretch that definition. The first, and most obvious problem with calling it such, would be the pile of shiny objects on top of it. Metal coins, gems, glass trinkets, and other random pieces of junk. It might’ve resembled a trash can, if all of it wasn’t polished and clean.

Second, however, the mattress had been magically warped into a circular shape by her witch: one of the many benefits of alchemy and its ability to reshape the material world! Now it was a proper nest for… uhh… a kitsune! Right. That what was she was now. It still felt so weird, this long body, with long legs, and the alien weirdness that was arms.

… Then again, it beat getting thrown in a dumpster.

Amira slowly rolled out of bed and stood up, heading for the kitchen, enjoying a quick worm sandwich for breakfast while she waited for her witch to come out of his room. It didn’t take long for breakfast to be over, though.

"Ginto? Get up, you lazy doofus!" Amira whined with the soothing voice of a chainsaw screeching against a metal pipe. "Get up already! I thought of something new I want for my collection!" She pounded on his bedroom door for a few seconds, before straight up barging in. "I said get up, you— oh."

He wasn’t there. "Huh?"

Weird. She’d have to nag him for more shiny stuff later. It was pretty weird of him to leave without giving her any agenda for the day though. But that just meant today was an opportunity! "Shopping day!" she practically squealed with delight, raiding his "finance bag" for money.

---

Getting Amira’s witch to make her custom stuff was great and all, but there was also something magical about browsing the many treasures of the market. Her tail swished with delight (yet another weird sensation to add to the list) as she continued to browse the market, her arms almost full of random stuff. Ornate silver goblet, glass plates with a beautiful illusion baked inside, a lantern with a fancy gold pattern etched into the frame… the list went on. It was reaching the point where she simply couldn’t carry anything more.

…but darn if she wasn’t gonna try!

“Emillllllllllliooooooooo~”

"Hm?" Amira turned to the source of the sound. A succubus of some kind? For some reason, she found it rather difficult to look away as the girl continued to call out. Unfortunately, this being the case, she didn’t notice the black cat darting about until it was right in front of her, causing her to shriek and topple to the ground.

As she fell, Amira’s entire pile of goodies toppled with her, releasing a clattering racket so loud, the entire market seemed to freeze for a moment, as if to check if one of the nearby buildings had collapsed. Several items had totally shattered, and the rest lay in a haphazard pile around the dazed kitsune.

"Oww…" she groaned, ignoring the awkward looks as she moved to recollect her stuff. Interestingly, she didn’t seem to care that the glass was shattered, picking up the larger shards anyway.

rakshasa BriiAngelic

 

[BriiAngelic]

• Bridgette || Sweethearted Succubus

• 
  
  
  
  Interacting With/Mentions:
  Amira ( Tau ), Panpepato ( rakshasa )
  

  ~ The Market ~
  ~ Early Morning~
  
  Bridgette's CS File || Yaeka's Daily Life 2
  
  The sound of a big clank caught her attention as she whirled around. It took her little effort to see the kitsune surrounded by some shattered items as the others in the market seemed to give her a wide amount of room as they shuffled around the kitsune now collecting the shards.
  
  “Hey, are you okay?”
  
  She took one last look up and down noting Emilio was no where in sight before deciding she could afford to make the detour in her searching. She jogged her way down to the kitsune reaching down to help her collect her things that weren’t yet shattered.
  
  “Let me help with that at least. Two people are better than one right? ‘Sides sounds like you took a pretty bad tumble there. What happened?”
  
  She looked around a bit wondering just what had caused her to fall. The market was about as busy as a normal Sunday. She had a much better view of the smaller once from this low to the ground spotting out the small form of another familiar but brushing it off.
  
  “Are you a market stallholder? This seems like a lot to carry on your own.”
  
  

 

[Lost Echo]

Sunlight filtered through the large bay window, warming her scales as she slowly woke. Rolling to expose her stomach to the rays, she stretched her full length, her tail curling up the wall as she finally let her eyes open. Funestus could sleep all day in the sun. Her witch had said retirement had made the dragon soft, but she could still respond when needed. Nowadays her fights were fueled with the need to protect, instead of the fire of competition. But this house they’d built was a safe nest. They rarely recieved visitors, let alone enemy attacks.

As the fog of sleep left, Funestus reached into the currents the ambient magic. And then she switched modes. Flipping onto her stomach with a massive thud, she told herself to look before panicking. Walking deeper into the house, it’s open layout permitting her size, she began to rumble, “Mevia?” The name rose with her worry. She was missing. Auras of her spells still permeated the house, but the source, her witch, was gone. As the kitchen was empty, she attempted to check the bedroom. With her flared hood she could not merely enter. She had never tried before, but she had to know. Yesterday Mevia had been feeling better. She’d been looking forward to the markets of today. Surely death wouldn’t take her so suddenly in the night. Rotating her head to its side, she managed to get her head into the room, the rest of her body too wide to fit. It was difficult to see everything, but her goal, what could--should hold her witch, the bed was visible. It was unmade, as it always was--Mevia wasn’t the type to waste time on making things pretty.

It was a relief. She wasn’t there. Her body was not there. The foe she’d been fighting had not won last night. Funestus laughed at herself. She was acting like a pup. Sure it was strange that Mevia had not woken her before going to the market, but perhaps she had left early in the morning when the chill of the night still held its grasp. All she needed to do was meet her at the market.

She went to pull her head out but choked, her frill and horns catching on the frame. She’d twisted without realizing it. After a couple of pulls and turns she got free, stumbling backward into the couch with the effort. There were definitely going to be dents in the door frame that she did not want to have to explain. Sadly, there was little the dragon could do about it, so like a cat, she pretended it was intentional, turned around and left the house.

The walk was short, not even worth the flight, and soon she was at the Market. She slowly lumbered down the lane, searching for her witch while ignoring those who moved out of her way. Finally, she stopped, suddenly forcing the traffic to split around her like an overly large boulder. Standing on her hind legs, she loomed over the passing patrons, trying to spot her witch out of all the dark haired shoppers. Maybe I could convince her to dye her hair…

 

[housegoat13]

coded by sugarnaut

S

oft beams of sunlight crept through the window, floating to the ground and drifting over Vladimir’s sleeping form. He popped open his eyes and untucked himself from his makeshift nest. A leaf jabbed his side, and he swatted the material away with an annoyed croak. Richard had provided him with a new enclosement once they had saved enough to buy something nicer than a turned-over fishbowl. Vladimir’s current home was spacey, a glass box filled with scattered debris and leaves, reminiscent of a forest floor with a neat little entrance that required no door and was perfect for the wandering bug and sleeping toad after a long day.

Vladimir often awoke before Richard, that is, if his witch ever decided to go to bed that night. Sometimes the toad would find Richard hunched over his desk in study in the early mornings, blinking blearily at his familiar and a question as to why Vladimir was up so late on the tip of his tongue, unaware that the night sky had already shattered into a brilliant orange hue.

Vladimir pattered to where he knew Richard’s office was, and he was relieved to find an empty desk. A stack of disorderly scrolls appeared to be on the verge of toppling over, while books climbed on top of each other, hoping to reach the lofty wooden beams that sat above. The toad used the small ramp propped against the desk to climb his way to the top of the wood. He was curious as to what kept Richard up last night, and perhaps he could organize what he could.

He’d have to see Richard about making chamomile tea today, Vladimir decided. Richard was never prone to nightmares, but surely Richard's heart needed a little calming after this. The books Richard had been reading were on the topic of discrimination, riots, and fires, why if Vladimir even attempted to get past the first word he’d be in a spook.

The sun rose just a few more inches above the horizon, and Vladimir began his way toward his witch’s room. There was value in sleep, certainly, but there wasn’t much value in reversing your internal clock. Richard made that error when they had first arrived at the library, and well... those first few weeks were miserable for most.

Richard’s door sat slightly ajar as dim light filtered through to the hallway and Vladimir sat just a few inches away from the small crack. He leaned forward with a soft croak in his throat as he called into the room, hoping to not intrude in case his witch was indecent.

Silence echoed his request and Vladimir took that as his cue to proceed. He brushed past the creaking wood and poked his head inside, but no sleeping form greeted him.

“Richard?” He croaked, swiveling his head to search the bedroom. The toad took a step forward, tapping the ground with a hesitant toe.

The room around him convulsed, baring the glaring absence of his witch.

He ducked out of the space and wandered into the library. Perhaps Richard was just browsing... searching for his familiar even now to lift onto the higher shelves to read off the titles.

“Richard!?” Vladimir called, his small steps soundless against the stone floor, “Richard are you there!?” he squeaked. A hushed void answered him, gutted of distant rustling pages and his witch’s friendly whistle.

He padded from room to room and aisle to aisle of bound leather and aged parchment. His search ended with his nose to the great wooden doors that led to the bustling street outside.

“Richard?” he voiced meekly, as if the wide doors may burst at any moment, drowning the quaint library with noise and laughter from those traveling to the Sunday Market mere blocks away.

The muffled and high-pitched cackle of a witch was all that answered the small toad.

Surely... Not today. Unless- Vladimir shook his head, shoving away the cruel thought. He needed to find Richard; Nature knows what sort of trouble he could be in without Vladimir.

The toad scampered up the ramp that rested on top of the stairs, headed towards a small gate with a metal clasp, just big enough for someone’s hand to slip through. The slumbering library doors were too difficult for the toad to move, so this smaller entrance had been carved from the wall with Vladimir in mind.

He pushed his nose to the cold clasp to unlatch the door, and light shoved past the gnarled wood creaking towards him. Heavy footfalls pounded his body, and cinnamon choked out the familiar scent of ink, killing the affection of The Lotus Athenaeum.

After a moment, Vladimir was able to adjust to his new environment and he peeked through the opening. He scooted himself forward and checked to the left of him, and then to the righ-

“Holy mother mackerel!” Vladimir jumped back, a large black boot accosted his view, and he trailed up the foot to a bodice leaning against the library. “Oh- excuse me,” Vladimir cleared his throat nervously, taking an apologetic step forward. “You wouldn’t have happened to spot a divination witch recently, would you? He should’ve come out of that door over there,” he faded off when he saw her scoff and shake her head, her metal bracelets clacking loudly as she raised her hand to wave him off.

“Get out of here frog,” The woman belittled, leaning over to continue a conversation with a gentleman nearby, someone Vladimir hadn’t accounted for.

“Oh,” Vladimir faltered, “I see, pardon the bother then.” He dipped his head, before pushing the small door behind him to a close and relocking the entrance. He started off towards the street, wary of the large feet as he sought someone else in the crowd to ask.

“Pardon me,” Vladimir cleared his throat as he stared up at a hefty gentleman smoking a pipe.

“Hm?” The man grumbled in acknowledgment, staring down at him with a quirked bushy eyebrow.

“Have you seen a divination witch around? Red hair, about your height-” A strained cough interrupted him and before Vladimir could ask if he was alright, the large man was already shuffling away. “I see...” Vladimir finished. He surveyed the diverse and colorful crowd around him while he padded the ground with gnawing worry.

“Oh dear...”

Location: A few blocks from Town Square
Mood: Worried
Tags: N/A

coded by sugarnaut

art by Aaron Brent Harker
coded by Sugarnaut

 

[EggB]

Pascal

MOOD: Excited -> Frightened
LOCATION: Asphodel Market
TAGS: Lost Echo
MENTIONS: Funestus

A very tiny yawn could be heard as Pascal's day started, though no one was around to hear it. The small dog's massive ears were the first thing to really awaken, shifting in all sorts of directions as his eyes remained closed. It was very peculiarly quiet, and this woke him up faster than any noise had before. Ponde! She must've got an early start! Early early, because she usually sleeps in. Pascal was in charge of 'all things morning related' as Ponde had put one day (accompanied by a sigh as she went back to sleep), especially since he woke up with a fire under his feet on most days. Today was no different, as he half sprinted around their little home, jumping off of furniture as he had grown so used to doing. "Ahhh!" he let out a little roar as he ran up a chair to the window letting in sunlight. The window opened the view into the Market. Their shop was down below, half of the house renovated to accommodate Ponde's entrepreneurial quest. It had cost them almost all of their savings, but seeing Ponde's satisfied smile was worth it.

Unlatching and pushing the window, he squeezed under it. He left the usual ball of excess fur, which always gave him away if people were following his trail. Popping out onto their balcony, the canine hopped onto another chair below him. One of the perks of the sentient world was definitely chairs! They were just so nifty. He nodded to himself as he hopped onto the metal deck. The small canine peered off their porch, ready to make his grand entrance. That's when he stopped cold. The shop... Wasn't open.

It was ALWAYS open.
Even when it probably shouldn't be!

The poor dog's hackles suddenly raised, as alarm bells went off in his head. 'Closed shop, early morning... NO FOOD BEFORE SHE LEFT! PONDE IS MISSING!!' his thoughts were racing as he suddenly dove off of their balcony, onto another, and then onto a tarp that led him safely to the ground.

He did this everyday, but his mind wasn't concerned with making an entrance. He had to find some trace of her..! His nose was to the ground as he raced by people, disregarding their words for once. He was so desperate, he didn't notice the massive creature's foot before it was too late. He bonked his snoot, fell, and rubbed his nose in pain. "Ouuucchhhh..." he said, sniffling. Even despite the giant dragon's presence, Pascal still seemed razor focused on his goal. But now his nose wasn't working as well... He looked upset, about to cry all of a sudden. "Ponde, where'd you go without me..?" he whispered, his eyes foggy.

code by low fidelity.

Spoiler: mobile friendly

A very tiny yawn could be heard as Pascal's day started, though no one was around to hear it. The small dog's massive ears were the first thing to really awaken, shifting in all sorts of directions as his eyes remained closed. It was very peculiarly quiet, and this woke him up faster than any noise had before. Ponde! She must've got an early start! Early early, because she usually sleeps in. Pascal was in charge of 'all things morning related' as Ponde had put one day (accompanied by a sigh as she went back to sleep), especially since he woke up with a fire under his feet on most days. Today was no different, as he half sprinted around their little home, jumping off of furniture as he had grown so used to doing. "Ahhh!" he let out a little roar as he ran up a chair to the window letting in sunlight. The window opened the view into the Market. Their shop was down below, half of the house renovated to accommodate Ponde's entrepreneurial quest. It had cost them almost all of their savings, but seeing Ponde's satisfied smile was worth it.

Unlatching and pushing the window, he squeezed under it. He left the usual ball of excess fur, which always gave him away if people were following his trail. Popping out onto their balcony, the canine hopped onto another chair below him. One of the perks of the sentient world was definitely chairs! They were just so nifty. He nodded to himself as he hopped onto the metal deck. The small canine peered off their porch, ready to make his grand entrance. That's when he stopped cold. The shop... Wasn't open.

It was ALWAYS open.
Even when it probably shouldn't be!

The poor dog's hackles suddenly raised, as alarm bells went off in his head. 'Closed shop, early morning... NO FOOD BEFORE SHE LEFT! PONDE IS MISSING!!' his thoughts were racing as he suddenly dove off of their balcony, onto another, and then onto a tarp that led him safely to the ground.

He did this everyday, but his mind wasn't concerned with making an entrance. He had to find some trace of her..! His nose was to the ground as he raced by people, disregarding their words for once. He was so desperate, he didn't notice the massive creature's foot before it was too late. He bonked his snoot, fell, and rubbed his nose in pain. "Ouuucchhhh..." he said, sniffling. Even despite the giant dragon's presence, Pascal still seemed razor focused on his goal. But now his nose wasn't working as well... He looked upset, about to cry all of a sudden. "Ponde, where'd you go without me..?" he whispered, his eyes foggy.

 

[DeepBlue]

Panic snapped him awake.

The room was pitch black as before. Has it been an hour? Or five? Orin couldn’t tell.

“Gabriella?” he called out in the darkness. There was only cold and silence.

The four poster bed was untouched as it had been before he went to bed. He opened his upper eyes, and the world appeared to him in a tint of green. He took a peek behind the heavy curtains. The world outside was still dark and asleep. The clock by the bedside table showed the time to be quarter past five.

He shook the duvet off his back, and stepped down from his own bed, a plush daybed by the window. Perhaps Gabriella was still in her study. It wasn’t unusual to find his witch still awake or even asleep at this hour. He reminded himself, pushing away a creeping doubt which had lodged at the back of his mind.

He opened the bedroom door with a thick vine grown from his back. Warm light poured from the corridor, lit by a human invention called electricity. The study was right next to the bedroom. He found the door slightly ajar, a gap fitting his size, exactly as he left it last night. Orin slipped into the study.

When Gabriella’s desk came into view, still lit by the desk lamp, he had expected to see her hunched over the desk, absorbed in the pages of the tomes. Her chair was empty.

"Gabriella?" He called his witch again, but didn’t expect a reply. Orin could sense that she wasn’t in the study. Nor within the cottage.

He took a deep breath, and called on to his other senses. The room was still. Only wood, paper and dust. As he left the study, he could sense four humans at the other end of the corridor – Gabriella’s students, who live with them. Still sound asleep.

He went down the wooden stairs to the ground floor. The stone tiles were still cold as he searched through the classroom, kitchen, drawing room, cupboard under the stairs – any nook and cranny he could think of. The windows and doors were still locked.

Orin unlatched the door and went out to the gardens. He looked around the bushes and trees, and searched through the greenhouse. There was still no sign of Gabriella. He sat in front of the porch, perplexed.

The magical barrier which Gabriella set still hummed along the perimeter of the villa. Everything still seemed untouched. Yet, there was no sight of his witch.

“Signore Orin?” asked a sleepy voice from the patio.

Orin turned to see a dark haired youth by the doorway. Nisa was a lanky girl around the age of sixteen. She was part of a thief gang, which was broken up four years ago. Too young to be tried in courts or sent to prison, the judge sent her stay with Gabriella instead. Nisa had come a long way since she first arrived, and had helped Gabriella and Orin with the other children.

“Morning, Nisa, have I awakened you? Apologies if I have done so.”

She shrugged. Orin couldn’t tell whether she was annoyed or not. He leaned on yes as Nisa had always been a light sleeper. “I heard you from up the hallway, calling for Signora Gabriella. Is she not around?”

Orin shook her head, and Nisa became stern. “I didn’t hear anything before you called out.”

“Neither did I.”

“And it’s not like her to wander in the middle of the night,” said the girl.

“No, it’s not,” Orin simply agreed. “I’m heading off Lord Riccardo’s residence, if Gabriella isn’t there, I will be heading elsewhere. I may not be back for several hours. Would you watch the others while I’m away?”

“Is that something you need asking?” Nisa scoffed.

“I mean it, Nisa. Something’s off. Stay vigilant and make sure others do the same. If there’s any suspicious activity, you know how to contact Lord Riccardo.”

“The telephone? Yes, I know how to operate it.” She nodded.

Orin turned and went to an open space between the flower beds. He lept and flew, leaving behind Nisa and the cottage.

His destination wasn’t far away. By foot, it would have taken a human less than an hour to arrive. By air, he was there in barely a fraction of the time. Five minutes to be precise, as Gabriella has timed it once. ‘Imagine when humans could travel at such speeds,’ she would say.

Orin landed on the roof of the mansion. He remembered when the tiles were bright orange. Now, they are a dull brown from sun and rain for hundreds of years. Already, he could feel invisible eyes on him. If he were an intruder, he would have been met with a welcome party, even before his paws landed. But given he was a known entity, they only watched him from the shadows.

There was no bustle at the Di Fazio mansion. No window was lit. No activity at the entrance or living area. It was still too early for the family, save for morning servants in the kitchen area. The lack of activity dwindled Orin’s hope for a different outcome.

He hopped off the edge of the roof, and landed on a balcony. He tapped on the glass door with his front paw. The first attempt had no response. He tried a couple of times again. Finally, he could hear a couple of sleepy voices grumbling, accompanied by an undercurrent of hissing. Moments later, a man flipped the velvet curtain, looked around and finally down to see Orin. Grimaced, he opened the door, emerging in a thick cotton bathrobe. A small spiky green snake coiled around his neck like a scarf. Both weren’t too happy to be awake and out in the cold.

"This better be good, Orin," the snake hissed, "We had been up late-"

"Has Gabriella been here?" he asked quietly.

"Why are you asking? Wasn’t she with you?" Medusa asked.

Now, the pair seemed to be more alert. Riccardo stood taller, and faced Orin with full attention. His blue eyes met Orin’s primary one. They were so alike to Gabriella’s, but carried none of her warmth and openness.

"Tell me what happened," said Riccardo.

Orin recounted the events earlier this morning. He gave as many details as he could remember, the empty study, Gabriella’s barrier still intact and undisturbed, and Nisa's account.

After a brief silence, Riccardo finally spoke. “I haven’t sensed any intrusion at the cottage.” He referred to the second layer of barrier, which he had placed himself as a precaution. “Though if someone were good at hiding themselves, I wouldn’t have been able to perceive them from this distance.”

Orin remained silent. His tail swished back and forth uneasily. He didn’t like how Riccardo had immediately jumped to the conclusion that there was an intruder.

“Perhaps she went off on her own,” suggested Medusa.

“And what sort of errand would warrant her to go off in the middle of the night without her familiar?” asked Riccardo.

Medusa’s yellow eyes flickered briefly to Orin. He sighed.
“She’s studying Death magic, curses and forbidden seals, sir.” Orin confessed. While Gabriella had never been one to keep secrets from her own father, her side study wasn’t something she discussed openly either.

Riccardo stared at him piercingly. Orin turned away from his gaze, ashamed of the unspoken he had put on his witch.

“Well, there’s use standing here and speculating,” the middle-aged witch declared, “I’ll have a look at Gabriella’s cottage.”

Orin bobbed his head. “I’ll check the town. She may have wandered there.” His offer sounded futile, yet he had a feeling Riccardo wouldn’t want him around for his investigation. If he had any other questions, Nisa would suffice.

He took his leave and climbed back up the roof, up to the tallest point facing the sea. Specks of houses dotted on the coast across.

The neighbourhood which the Di Fazio’s settled was old, a mini peninsula landmass, on top of a hill from across the main township. The township had grown over the centuries, from a small port, barely called a village, to a sprawling city which covered the hills that were once forests. Orin had missed those untouched woods.

He took off, with the sea breeze carrying him over the channel. The sun had been up since his time with Riccardo. The morning glow lit the sea in yellow and blue hues. Mist was clearing from the port, as ferries to the mainland were sailing off to bring back tourists. As he approached the town, he could hear the bustling sounds of human life.

The morning market had been underway. Orin could see the square being covered by colourful tents. People had already flooded the small pathways, like ants foraging.

Orin landed above the town hall, the tallest point overlooking the square. The bright cheer of the morning market couldn’t touch his heart.The scent of the morning bakery, which had sent Orin salivating a week ago, was unregistered. Orin closed his eyes, attempting to sense Gabriella through the crowd.

Nothing.

 

[miki]

THE ELEMENT WITCH'S FAMILIAR

━━━━ ━━━━​

When XingXing woke up and Francesco was gone, she hadn’t questioned it. Sometimes, an opportunity would present itself to him and he couldn’t take the time aside to bring XingXing with him. While it bothered XingXing to not know where he was, she was soothed by the notion that he was going to return eventually—with some sort of trinket or discovery that he could excitedly explain for hours.

So XingXing carried on as normal. It was a few days out from a full moon, so she had been blessed with human hands to carry herself around with. She lifted herself out of the bathtub she had rested in and flopped onto a chair. She tried her best to decant the majority of the water from her tail back into the bathtub, but she couldn’t stop a small pool of water from gathering in front of her. With a monotone sigh, XingXing gathered her hands above the water. XingXing wasn’t ashamed to say she had become dependent on the elemental powers she had been gifted. Cleaning up small spills like this were commonplace, especially since she was a creature of the water.

However, it took a bit longer than it normally did this time. The liquid moved up like a reverse waterfall in her hands, but slow like the sand of an hourglass. When all the water collected in her hands, she dumped the water back into the bathtub.

Maybe it was worth it to go into town. No matter what Francesco came back with, he would appreciate XingXing coming back with his errands done.

One of the few things that Francesco spent fair money on was XingXing’s wheelchair. A fascinating contraption commissioned by Asphodel’s finest inventor, it had two large wheels and a break around a simple cedar chair. It was far from comfortable, but it was effective.

XingXing moved to the floor and crawled across it to the wheelchair, which was next to a desk with a small atomizer of lake water. She liked keeping it with her when she went away from the lake for long periods of time. While her contract kept her from drying out on land, the water helped with the discomfort.

XingXing slipped on the cream-colored silk shirt, loosening the rouched sleeves around her wrists. She had to take good care of it—if she ruined the shirt, Francesco would have a hard time stealing another, and she would be forced to wear the abrasive threads of cotton that Francesco had in his shirts. She gently folded the silken blanket over her tail and began rolling out the door of the houseboat. As she descended onto the docks, she breathed in her last breath of water vapor before rolling onto land. She followed the path into the small forest that led to the market.

XingXing mentally took note of the things she needed. A few rare herbs that would only be for sale during the current season. She wasn’t with Francesco, but she could play up the sickly young girl well enough to barter the prices to something he would approve of.

As she approached the market however, something caught her eye. A toad hopping around the feet of passers-by who ignored him. But he was clearly speaking, which made him a fellow familiar. It wasn’t very often that XingXing could meet other familiars, so she figured coming to his aid would be the right idea.

She couldn’t speak, but she could act. She rolled towards the toad and stared at him, glassy-eyed, hoping to gain his attention. She tilted her head and implied a question: What is the matter?

Interacting with: Vladimir ( housegoat13 )​

 

[Lost Echo]

On her hind legs, Funestus could see the length of the path. Twisting her body with the flexibility of her namesake, she searched the opposite end. Her prey was elusive. It was enough to make her fangs itch. And her leg? She looked down, surprised to see a ball of fluff, with at least front legs rubbing something. Stepping back, she found the eyes and couldn’t help the mental sigh. Mevia would think the thing adorable. “It shouldn’t hurt.” Her witch would have told her to soften her haughty tone, add at least ‘for long’ to ease the message; that they wanted to integrate with the neighbors, but that was what she got for not being there. Funestus could do as she pleased. Still, she didn’t want to hurt anything so weak. “I was looking up high for my witch, I could not see you coming.”

EggB