#anedendarkly

The Butterfly and The Cockroach @anedendarkly

Pinpirin and her witch had moved to a new town just recently. It was very pretty, with lots of nature. Pinpirin had loved it so far! Though she hadn't made any friends yet, she did expect that to take quite a while. She'd always struggled with making friends.

At least she was finding ways to enjoy her hobbies. She heard about a pawn shop that often had very beautiful things, and since she was decorating her new treehouse she was working very find to find things in the area.

Unfortunately she'd been very busy that day, with a hundred things to complete for Ximun, and now it was barely 10 minutes before closing time.

She made a mad dash for the shop, her flowing white dress moving against her calves, her bare feet pattering on the pavement. Pinpirin pushed open the door, slightly out of breath. Her hair had gotten a bit ruined by her running, but at least she'd made it! ... Right?

Manon paced her living room, arms crossed and hands tucked under the sleeves of the sweatshirt she was wearing, hood up and pulled tight around her face. Her apartment was warm, so besides the odd choice of top, she was barefoot and in shorts as she tried to focus on the cool of her hardwood floor and the softness of her area rug as she went back and forth between the two.

Mj had left a few days prior so she had turned to the only other supernatural who may be able to help her with her current problem.

"I believe we ought to take a break," Mikurube suggested sagely. Mito could hear a faint note of fatigue in his voice. He remembered that his old master had been struggling with an old injury for the past few days. Quickly he pushed himself up from the zabuton to assist the young woman to sit in the adjacent room. Her forearms were icy beneath his palm, but at least the murmurs from her mouth were no longer of a foreign language that had sent shudders through him, as though ants were crawling down his spine.

The blonde's brow furrows as she focuses on the project before her. At this stage, it didn't look like much, as there were still many panels to weld and electrical harnesses to set. Her tongue made quick appearances out of the corner of her mouth - those that knew her knew that was a telltale sign that 100% of her focus was on her work. Avis could be a bit of a one track mind when the hyperfixation set in, and projects like these created that kind of focus. Besides, it wouldn't be surprising that something would miss her radar with the stereo in the shop at full volume.

"Such ani-fuckin-mosity!" He shakes his hand of any remnant ache from having delivered his own punch. Funny. How that was one of the few places he still had nerves.

As for the currently broken nose, the source the blood that had gotten on his shirt (genuine favorite or otherwise), there was no accompanying pain or throbs. Just annoyance.

Well. He asked for it.

The side of his mouth pulls up as he hocks up and looses a thick wad of saliva and blood at the other.

The Creatura had seen this trick before; the cat before him becoming misshapen and expanding. Hair replaced by a loose long-sleeve shirt, sarong, and slippers. The time between transformations had lessened to a mere second.

The familiar bowed, popping back up with a smile and an offering. A small wooden basket with three fennel bulbs and a fine glass bottle.

"I made them. And the basket. And the bottle. And the... perfume. It's fennel! And other things I smelled on you. It's... warm."

Stan watches and though he knew what was coming, that didn't stop the feeling of unease creeping up his back. Even with the familiarity. He stands his ground, watching warily, always untrusting, especially with magic that he doesn't understand (which is most magic honestly).

He does seem to be respectful enough, so Stan's guard does not raise further but they weren't exactly dropping very quickly either. Violet eyes dart down to the basket and reach out when it was offered to him. His expression shifting to something closer to confusion than skepticism.

"You..made them?" There was lingering suspicion as Stan inspects the fennel bulbs, picking one up and giving it a sniff. It seemed to pass the test as he then moves to checking out the bottle. His gaze turns back to the familiar at the comment of the 'other scents'. His own senses were not sensitive enough to parse them so that did pick up his interest.

"Warm. That could mean a lot of things."

@anedendarkly "Is it mad to pray for better hallucinations?"

"I find myself asking that same question on a weekly basis." Alice stared at the other curiously. She was wondering is he was a hallucination.

"I'm sorry but...who are you? Why are you here?" Alice had decent control over her mental state. At least more control than she did 4 years ago. But she still found herself questioning what was delusion and what was reality from time to time.