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 Posted: Fri Aug 12, 2011 7:12 pm
 The day was winding down, and the sun was finally beginning to set. Rosel's favorite time. The setting sun cast a sickly ginger tint over the sky, reflected on the rooftops and windows in the town below. Moonfall was winding down from a festival, and the streets were slowly clearing from the bustle of the day. Most of the booths were closed, and what few remained open were inattentively manned by keepers socializing over dinner behind the counters.
It'd been a satisfying day, all in all. Rosel walked languidly down the center street, heels clicking on the pavement. The press of the people had been aggravating after an hour or so, but there had been oh so many witches about. Sip, sip, sip, she'd nibbled at the essences of each one as they passed. No hearts today though; the vagabonds had left her alone.
Not for lack of her trying though. She was wearing her fluorescent crystal earrings, massive things that matched her eyes perfectly. They cost her a pretty penny, but they never failed to catch her a good time when she went fishing in the right part of town.
As she passed out of the festival grounds, the houses around her got increasingly patchworked and close together. Rosel slowed her walk further and looked around in mild interest. A smile twitched at her lips as she felt the first nibble on her line. A witch in the alley up ahead. An adventurous one too; they weren't all that far from the festival. Trying desperately not to smile, Rosel passed the alley while looking away and squealed believingly when she was suddenly hauled into the alleyway.
Stumbling a bit on her heels, she looked up into the harried face of a middle-aged man in...average clothes. He had a knife held out between them, with a shimmering, enchanted blade. "Don't you scream now. Don't make me cut that pretty face up. Just be a good girl and hand over that pretty jewelery." His free hand came out expectantly, and he looked around nervously. What a disappointment. Probably not even homeless, just some street hustler after an easy target. When Rosel snorted derisively he waved the knife again. "Don't think I won't, little girl. They'll never even find your-"
"Oh... don't be like that. We're just going to have some fun, aren't we?" She stepped forward sweetly, hand out to brush the knife away. A flit of black lightning leapt from her hand and the man yelped in pain. There was a clang as the knife hit the pavement and Rosel stepped over it, reaching out as though to pull the man close. He looked so confused now, but didn't they always? The hustlers were always so easy to confuse. The homeless ones, the ones that were really desperate, they made for a much more interesting time. This witch's aura was weak though, hardly even worth snacking on. As she moved closer, the man stupidly stayed, grasping his burned hand.
One last step, and Rosel was close enough. Hands resting gently on his cheap jacket, she looked into those dull, confused eyes, felt his witch's heart, and pulled.
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Posted: Thu Aug 25, 2011 2:35 pm
 Great minds think alike, as Salem had always believed. Like profoundly powerful, inherently superior celestial beings, they threw up great fields of gravity that pulled their equals together from across the great expanses. The truly great are destined to collide, and both sides stand only to benefit by uniting. This night reminded Salem of such a truth, for a powerful alliance indeed was about to be forged. The events would remain bright and clear in his memory, for they spurred Salem down the path toward attempts at glory - or perhaps delusions of grandeur.
Salem had always been quite favorable of festivals and parties, because their very nature made it easy for him to hide in plain sight. People dressed in colorful and unusual garb, and drink flowed easily, dulling the senses of many. What was one oddly-garbed man among many, and what did it matter if he was covered in stitches? How could one be sure it wasn't just blurred vision marring and warping everything? One couldn't, and this allowed Salem to wander amongst the happy masses with no protest beyond a cursory glance from any who saw him.
Still, though, stark daylight was an unnecessary risk for one such as he, and Salem spent the day waiting for the evening in darkened alleys and the musty shadows of the tall buildings that made up Moonfall. As soon as sunset began painting things that off-color orange, Salem started to move. As children and parents began moving off the streets, the swingers and the shakers began to really break into the booze, and their fuzzy, bubbly auras were easy to latch upon and drain from, as if they were kegs themselves, filled with a far sweeter and more satisfying drink than just alcohol. They were like bursting skeins of magic, and Salem was happy to take enough to keep them from spilling over.
The evening had, so far, been extremely fruitful, and Salem was approaching on being satisfied when he felt something... unique. Something he never got a chnace to have dealings with, these days. For somewhere in the crowd, a great void like himself twisted and churned, no doubt for the same reason as Salem. A majin was feeding, and the one-eyed witchie scanned eagerly for a glimpse at his fellow, somewhere between the ramshackle homes, all different shapes and sizes, very untidy, now that Salem gave it some thought. Finally, he was afforded a moment of sight at the woman, dark-skinned and with a pair of the most vividly green eyes Salem had ever seen, through a gap between two pedestrians before she was lost again in the suffocating press. Grinning completely un-self-consciously, the man crossed to where she had been standing, and, once again seeing a glimpse of blonde farther down the street, he gave chase, avoiding bumping into people when he could, but not caring when he did.
For a time, this pursuit continued, Salem's hunger forgotten, as he fought through the multitudes who were heading in the opposite direction, and slowly, so slowly, the distance between them closed. It was rough going: while the crowds seems to part for the woman, like air parting before a lightningbolt, they crashed back together before him, forcing him to use elbows and snarls after a short time had passed. He grew rapidly tired of the humies, and didn't know how much longer he could take their mindless meandering.
Eventually, when Salem had but several yards to cover before he overtook her and next to no patience left, a wayward hand shot out from an alleyway not unlike the one in which Salem had hidden for the day, taking hold of the woman's wrist and dragging her sideways. Salem had to laugh, then, for whoever owned that hand was in for a nasty surprise, and a very nasty one indeed, at that. Wading through the last of the drunken, babbling crowd, Salem turned the corner and looked down into the alley. He stopped, then, grinning in a way that would have unsettled any human at what he saw.
The man, some wiry, squirrely b*****d that was no doubt filled with all the notably virtuous characteristics of mankind, stood with his back slumped against the wall behind him, the bricked, windowless side of a store that faced the street behind them. His eyes were rolled up, and his mouth hung open, making tiny gasping and groaning sounds as the woman he had been following stood over him, no doubt enjoying the reaction as she stole his heart.
Salem stood in the alley's entrance, blocking it with his body, watching as his sister, the majin, worked. His eyes took a greedy, jealous cast as she did what he had, as of yet, been unable to.
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Posted: Sun Nov 13, 2011 7:14 pm
Ahh, sweet, sweet euphoria. There was no taste better than a Witch’s Heart. No candy sweet, adrenaline rush, or physical pleasure could ever compare. It was almost enough to lose herself in, and she watched through half-lidded eyes as her prey began to slowly lose consciousness. Pity that, she loved it when they fought her to the last breath. It made the heart tastier somehow.
She felt, rather than heard, someone move to the front of the alleyway and immediately moved closer to her prey in an imitation of intimacy. She needn’t have bothered though. As the last wisp of the man’s heart trickled into her, she stepped back and let him slide to the ground. Like a scent on the breeze, her intruder’s aura came to her: Majin.
Despite having not touched anything more than his lapels, she delicately touched the corners of her lips with a manicured fingertip as she shifted her hips to face the newcomer. He hadn’t run off in fright, so either he was scared stiff or enjoying the show. Though, from the looks of him, scared stiff was unlikely. He looked like he’d already faced down death and come out a little worse for the wear. Large, black stitches held together mismatched patches of skin, and had sown one of his eyes shut. Claws, horns, and an open jacket that showed off more patched skin; he looked like he’d been drug back from the grave, still wearing his best. And from the look in his eyes, well eye, enjoying the show was an actual possibility.
Ignoring the husk at her feet, Rosel turned to face her intruder fully. She crossed her arms under her chest and tilted her head playfully. ”Can I help you with something?”
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Posted: Mon Nov 14, 2011 5:02 pm
Salem looked at the recently magically-exsanguinated with something like disgust as the human crumpled before the strikingly-green-eyed woman. He slumped back against the wall behind them, then fell onto his side like he'd dozed off, except his eyes were still open wide and his mouth hung agape. When they got their hearts sucked out, the damned things always keeled over like ragdolls and proceeded to drool on themselves. They became so like cattle after they had their souls removed that Salem wished he could just end their tiny little lives. Maybe they wouldn't be such an assault on his sensibilities.
Salem was still lost in his contemplation over how humans had the uncanny ability to sicken him when the woman turned to face him. The ruined demon-man snapped his head away, almost pleased to be dragged from the revulsive sight of the silly man who'd bitten off more than he could chew, to the point where it had broken his jaw. Salem met her two eyes with his own one, and again marvelled in the striking green of them. She was a very striking woman all around, no denying that. Her clothing, despite her shirt consisting of little more than tatters, managed to match with the very chic skirt and belt in a manner that was SO punk. After joining up with Orpheus in his band, he'd grown a great appreciation for styles like this. Her jewelry, too, had a definite charm to it that no doubt played a large role in netting that poor sap who now sat folded up and soulless to the side.
Her hair, too, such a pretty shade of blonde, one that looked natural. He'd never seen such a color combined with such dark skin, and it perplexed him. He looked her up and down, though not as a pervert might look upon his prey, but as a traveller might look upon a exotic and majestic animal. She appealed not to his heart, but to his mind, for Salem did so love his fellow majin brethren. No desire lingered behind his eyes, merely a touch of admiration that in turn stood before calculation. A witch-eater! How fortuitous for them to meet on this day! The one-eyed witchie could call himself pleased, to be sure.
Salem pulled on a wide grin when he finally spoke, bowing low before the woman he still did not know in a gesture hovering between genuine respect and biting sarcasm, a joke even while being polite.
“Oh, my, help old Salem? No, no, enlightened one, there isn't much help to give this one, not a smidge, unless you'd be inclined to give me your name...?” He craned his neck to look up at her, still poised in his stilted marionette bow, and showed the teeth behind the pale lips, sharpened in places that didn't make sense. “That we might make this meeting official, of course.”
Before she could answer, though, Salem shot stick-straight, as if startled, and turned sharply on his heels, suddenly remembering where he stood. He looked out on the street beyond the edge of the alley, where people still meandered by as the day grew ever-darker. None had stopped to inspect the happenings. Yet.
“Perhaps this one should do what he does best and turn away prying eyes, hmmm?”
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Posted: Sun Mar 04, 2012 2:36 pm
Soaking up the appreciation, Rosel struck a pose and flipped her hair back dramatically. She’d been around enough thugs and halfwits to know desire when she saw it, and this wasn’t it. It was actually refreshing to stand in front of someone that was neither a meal nor a threat. Well, she’d assume he wasn’t a threat for the moment anyway.
His bow was odd somehow, despite being sweetly old fashioned, like a puppet or an earnest pantomime. She wondered briefly if he was a golem, controlled by an unseen puppeteer. Either way, it was cute.
She broke the pose when he suddenly turned, and she forcefully kept her lightning in check. It balked in her chest, and she rolled her shoulders to relax. No sense scaring off a new friend.
She noticed for the first time the scattering of people on the opposite side of the street, passing by without giving them any notice. Why should they? There was only her sweet self talking to a man would could possibly have been a performer in the festival. Oh, and her meal, lying helplessly on the ground. She took the moment to nudge his face downwards into the dirt with her toe. There we go, now he’s a sleeping hobo. Problem solved.
Sauntering up behind Salem, she stepped out of the alley and into the sunlight, brushing her hair back to look up at the dusky sky.
“Enlightened one, hm? As lovely as that is,” she winked audaciously, “’Rosel’ will do, sweetie. There’s a darling little place just down the way, perhaps we could stop in for a meal?” She looked up the street, away from the festival, then back at him with hooded eyes and a secretive smile.
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Posted: Mon Mar 05, 2012 3:09 pm
How odd, that nobody might look. People wandered blindly on through the afternoon sunlight, apparently oblivious to the world they inhabited as they stumbled onward. Cattle, these things. Juicy fruits, sacks of energy without a single care or inhibition. Salem gazed out at them with unmarked disgust, and all of a sudden he needed a drink.
The thought went to the backburner, though, when he looked back to Rosel. The magnificent pose she'd struck, a gesture he would have found ridiculous on anyone other than a being of such power and knowledge, had given way to guarded eyes and shoulders thrown back. Somewhere distant, Salem heard the sound of thunder, and he felt the crackle of magic play along his dead, patchworked skin. Would she cast upon him, strike him down? He hoped not; He'd be sorely saddened to have to strike an enlightened one down.
Salem threw his head back and laughed, neck craned so far back that white hair fell upon between his shoulders. His mouth opened up a little too wide, and his jaw nearly vibrate as the strange sound poured from his lips. It was strangely patterned, almost repetitive, and it didn't peter off so much as it did just lose volume and end suddenly. After a moment, his mouth snapped shut and his head fell forward again, his manic outburst ended for a moment. All that remained was his grin.
“Oh, Miss Rosel,” Salem began, his lips parting to let fly more of his strange diction, “you do raise such good humors in your humble companion. You have nothing to fear from old Salem, for he wouldn't harm a single of those pretty blonde hairs upon your head.”
Salem followed close behind Rosel when she stepped out into the street, and he squinted in the renewed sunlight as he stalked up beside her. He hunched his back after a moment, using his crown of white hair to obscure his one eye from the brightness.
“What a wondrous idea, dear sister! I am feeling slightly... peckish,” he followed her eyes and nodded at the congregation of festival-goers, greed suddenly rising in his face, “and a meal may be just what I need to keep myself from growing grumpy. Perhaps a drink, once we're done? I'm far too sober for such a meeting.”
Salem laughed again, but nothing near as unsettling as his display in the alleyway. He rolled on the balls of his heels, looked to Rosel.
“Lead on.”
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Posted: Fri Mar 09, 2012 9:37 am
What an odd creature, this Salem. Rosel felt instantly she needed a nickname for him. Something sweet…but creepy. She’d have to work on that.
Apparently her poker face was losing its touch. He had noticed her passing defensiveness and Rosel forced a smile onto her face when he called her on it. This time when he burst forth with sudden movement and laughter, she simply crossed one arm under her chest and moved a hand to frame a humored smile. She allowed a only sweet giggle to escape.
“Oh you dear thing, aren’t you just precious…” She considered informing him that there wasn’t much she was afraid of, and he didn’t make that list, but instead let the thought pass with a smile. What was friendship, if not a dance of emotions? His dance a bit more abrupt than most – like jazz, or an old love song that skipped on the player. No matter though, she could dance to anything.
Stretching idly in the sunlight, Rosel looked at the passing people with lazy superiority. “Peckish, hm? I’m a tad hungry myself. Snacked all day but no meals.” It was Rosel’s turn to burst into laughter. She’d kill to see Salem piss drunk, but strongly suspected he wouldn’t be obliging her any time soon. “Sober? Oh yes, alcohol does make for a much better time.” Clasping her hands innocently behind her, she flashed Salem a hooded smile and strutted down the street.
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