All the girls on the block knocking at my door! Wanna know what it is make the boys want more!

Honey Aberdeen; a study in witchcraft, magical thinking, valley girls, falling in love with the world, and being delightfully un-serious in spite of everything.

Promo made by @strebcr!

Rules|Bio|Headcanons|Mun

Hoa is practicing her powers in an alley. She's in the middle of levitating a dumpster with her telekinesis, when she hears something. Immediately, she drops the dumpster, scaring a nearby cat, who runs away. "Sorry," She whispers, hoping the cat can hear her somehow.

She looks around, but doesn't spot anyone. It is a bit dark down there, which is one of the reasons it's a perfect place to practice her abilities. But it is inconvenient right now, because it is hard for Hoa to see the other person. If indeed another person has stumbled upon her.

She frowns, squinting her eyes hoping to see better in the darkness. But she still can't see anyone in the alley. "Is anyone there?" Hoa calls out, hoping the intruder, whoever they are, will say something. Hopefully whoever it is is friendly. But if not, Hoa has her powers to keep her safe. Even if she doesn't like them much.

Hoa wishes she could have a normal life. But how can she when she has these abilities? Is she even human? She doesn't know. And that terrifies her. Though she's glad her powers had shown up when they had, had saved her from a difficult situation, she still struggles with having them. It's a lonely secret to have. And she doesn't have that many people to share it with, yet.

Still, with age came wisdom--or so Sylvester wanted to believe. Sure, he may have been sorely lacking in chutzpah these days, but he'd developed a healthy sense of suspicion and doubt to make up for it. He'd hurt and been hurt enough times to know exactly what unfettered optimism and hope got you. What it did to you.

Or maybe he was just a cynical asshole. But he was a cynical asshole in a cute pink outfit with a magical heart-shaped bludgeoning implement. Sylvester didn't know whether that was worse or better, and decided early on that he also didn't particularly care to ever know.

Very much intent on calling it a night and getting some much-needed sleep, Heartbreaker makes a beeline for the nearest alleyway to shrug off the ol' "vigilante" getup and slip into something much more comfortable. Just as he's about to turn the corner, there's a loud crashing sound that any reasonable person would probably take as a sign to turn tail and try to find another alley to (magically) take their clothes off in. But Sylvester was not a reasonable person, and never had been.

He follows the source of the sound, finding himself in a darkened alleyway. A stranger's voice calls out through the darkness, sounding more like they were worried about a potential threat, and not in any real danger themselves.

Heartbreaker raises a gloved hand and clenches his fist, a crackling, pink flame enveloping his hand and illuminating the area around him. Immediately, he spots a young woman standing next to an overturned dumpster, and his apprehension shifts to mild confusion.

send one to have our muses meet for the first time.

“Sorry, were you just talking to me?”

“I think you dropped this.”

“You look lost. Need some help?”

“I don’t usually talk to strangers, but…”

“You’re sitting in my spot.”

“Whoa! Careful!”

“We’ve never met, right? You seem familiar.”

“Is that seat taken?”

“Sorry, I think I just spilled something on you.”

“You’re blocking the doorway.”

“Were you just staring at me?”

“Excuse me, do you know the time?”

“Wait — are you the person I’m supposed to meet?”

“I’ve been sent to find you.”

“Please don’t be alarmed, but I think we have the same bag.”

“Do you work here?”

“I’m fairly certain that’s mine.”

“You’ve got something on your face.”

“Sorry, I thought you were someone else.”

“Do you know the way to ___?”

“You’re hurt. Do you need help?”

“That’s a fine ___ (cloak/hat/book/etc.). Where did you get it?”

“This might sound strange, but can I hide behind you for a moment?”

“You look like you could use a friend.”

“I think your dog just stole my lunch.”

“Hey, you dropped your coin purse.”

“I think we’re stuck in here together.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to overhear, but…”

“Are you the new neighbor?”

“First time in town?”

“I’m not sure if this belongs to you, but…”

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“I’ve been hearing a lot about you.”

“Do you mind if I join you?”

“I think you’re in the wrong place.”

“You seem… out of place.”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but are you following me?”

“That was a close call.”

“Not to alarm you, but someone’s watching you.”

“Mind if I walk with you?”

“You look like you’re in trouble.”

“Was that your doing back there?”

“You don’t look like you’re from around here.”

“That was impressive. How’d you manage it?”

“I’m guessing you’re not here by accident.”

“Do I want to know what just happened?”

“You might want to keep your voice down.”

“Is it always this strange around here?”

“I have a feeling we’re about to become acquainted whether we like it or not.”

Twinkilng, shining, light of the future! Cure Happy!

@moonlitmenage