#demontes

★ █ SHE FROWNS AS SHE touches a low-hanging branch, weighed down by the many lights entwined and adorning it -- Marisa knows she’s only feigning some sort interest in her surroundings, even though they are completely gorgeous and engrossing under any other circumstances, because her mind drifts elsewhere on the night of this dance. Though she doesn’t admit it outright, an expert on dancing around the truth but never quite diguising it entirely, it’s definitely the disappointment over not finding a certain shrine maiden here. Which is... stupid, given that she should be able to enjoy any party without her help anyway, especially when the drinks are free and there’s no fighting to be had.

Still.

It’s hard to peel the comically, childishly sullen look off her face as she stands beneath the still-drooping branch, even as she spots the strange man she’s recently acquainted herself with -- though perhaps befriended would be as good a term as any, given her history with friendships, but she’ll be the judge of that -- and waves at him, uncharacteristically stiff-handed and only bending at the wrist.

★ █ A LONG DAY or a long night, it made little difference to Marisa while in the process of doing; the problem arose when, after all was said and done, she found herself suddenly drained of energy. By then, of course, the magician had usually long since returned home (to hers or another’s, but that was neither here nor there) to collapse and sleep as deeply as one could without being declared dead. Most would consider it poor time management, given how many hours a day she devoted to high-speed and strenuous activities.

For her, just another day. 

Still, today was one of the days she had overestimated herself perhaps a tad more than usual, most remaining energy devoted to clinging tightly to her broom as she zipped along at near-ground level, weaving in and out of the glowing circles of the dingy streetlights in this area of the city. Not much surprise, then, was it that she collided with a shadowy figure, half-hidden in the gloom. They don’t seem to go down; Marisa, on the other hand, tumbles head over heels to land flatly on her back. Her energy returns to her, if only slightly.

<<Rude! Haven’t you got anything better to do than lurk around in the dark like a kid going through a phase?>>

She fumbles around for a moment, dazed, searching for the handle of her broom before her hand clasps around familiar wood. At least it hasn’t broken even after all these years.