*LET'S DANCE!

local witch mum adopts all stray cats.

she may adopt children too ( if they’re well mannered && cute enough. )

black sheep of the umbra witches, one of two powerful clans who presided over the balance of light && darkness in older times. sealed away by her rival sister to avoid worldly ruin per dark decree where she slept for five hundred years until being ‘awakened’ from her slumber to fulfill her mysterious destiny.

became the left eye of the fabled creator jubileus, promptly defeating the entity beside jeanne by launching the embodiment of divine will into the sun to prevent the second armageddon && chaotic convergence of the three realms; you’re welcome loves. of course her work is never quite done - she also took on the god of chaos aesir and now she’s suddenly landed in isola. a well earned vacation she must say.

never without her trademark lollipops on hand. they’re an addiction.

“no one said you could touch!”

not your mum. don’t call her mummy.

the languid bustle of cityfolk amidst october reverie is by far her most favored. simmering spice and everything nice! ah, but what was the innocent without a touch of naughty? she’s taken to the casino this evening && well before choosing to favor the dance at the coo of later midnight hour, people of all different worlds && ways converging to place bets. where some fumble in ploy to win ( others already well have ) && she watches on, perhaps well more amused than she should be, perfectly manicured nails tapping in near silent tune against the shimmering stem of a half filled glass. a sip to savor the last just before setting her prize aside && intending to move on. .. oh~? perhaps a hand would light ‘pon the jut of madame’s well-dressed hip, playfully scrutinizing gaze overlooking the boy from just behind the butterfly’s mask.

in homage to her darling lady demon of first pact, the umbra witch will be sporting a wear strikingly similar to madama butterfly's own.

initially/without the power of candies she will be wearing a blue satin dress with matching gloves and butterfly heels with an adorable set of faux wings and her signature butterfly mask.

naturally, when under the effect of candies she is able to channel madama butterfly's look nearly all natural. yes, these heels are absolutely for stomping!

alternatively, she has discovered with the effect of candies and the addition of cute little cat ears, she is able to assume the dark arts form form of her most trusted feline companions and can be found roaming through the night.

she will be gladly partaking in festivities all the while! these include the heckin' halloween hunt, ghoulishly good ghost hunting, ofiuco's monster mash and the mistwoods merry maze.

💛 💜 ❤️ || she smiles, albeit weakly, like someone who did not EXPECT company, but unexpectedly landed herself with some. it isn’t particularly unwanted, but socializing has a habit of being tiring to the youkai, even on her BETTER days. 

❝you’re right,❞ she says, once the initial shock has lifted. ❝the darlings could use all the friends they’re willing to make.❞

if it was purely up to her, she’d be PERPETUALLY showering the animals in affection, but cats could be very independent and even FICKLE at times. some, quite simply, cannot do with being too pampered, so she will settle for their safety.

❝she may have wanted us to meet. with how URGENT she was, i admit i was worried that i’d have to make a trip to the veterinarian.❞ brows pull in. no, if the colony needs any attention, there’s already someone here who’d offer it. for someone so small, DELICATE in stature, she’s certainly thinking quite a bit. ❝who knows, really. cats have minds of their own - it is HARDLY a wonder that humans used to associate them with witchcraft.❞

the FINAL puzzle piece clicks in her mind. the woman may not have the hat or the style of witches ( or more accurately, marisa, her MAIN source of knowledge in this regard ) but if she’s currently facing one, the youkai can’t say that she’d be surprised. 

sure as the waxing wane of luminescent pearl held ‘pon glittering high. the moon was ever fickle a mistress as any other, truly. where serene simper dons ‘witchy’ visage && said little feline friend circles just at her heels something almost ravenous if not sweetly subservient ( my, how quaint ) gloved palm offers the subtly of passing touch by way of open palmed pat, the low trill of purr in pleasantries a return offer for her reward. one sleek leg folds over the other proper, strands of that intricate catsuit almost sentient as all subtle movement so seemed, shimmering beneath the shine of midnight hour.

ah, the night was... how did the kids say? still young, yes.

perhaps as a marionette would dance akin to the master’s strings, ever watchful gaze of clouded grey proceeds to drink in the sight of her as if something much more finer than the still steaming brew held steadfast at hand despite the teasing drum of fingertips along tabletop, a hum rising in stead. subtle scrunch of the nose would indicate she’s been tipped towards the belief that her company is anything but human; call it a woman’s intuition.