β Β π. Β |Β EVENING - TIME. AN HOUR AFTER THE LAST CUSTOMER HAD COME AND GONE... there is nothing here to interrupt, except for the silent aftermath of duty. Β the storefront returns to its natural state of stillness, its shelves pulling themselves back to tidiness without Her having to direct them; jars of product roll back to their initial spots and screw their lids shut. this atmosphere returns to being untouched, unspoiled by wandering hands. in the silent aftermath of duty, after the shop has scrubbed its walls of ghoulish guts and viscera leftovers, the Saint ( ! ) leaves her back door open, in case of the one visitor she expects, and settles into the dimness of her office. the bulb of her lamp flickers calmly.... an hour into her loneliness, the air grows a bit chillier, a bit less still. as if a bell were rung, she lifts her head, casts her eyes towards the darkness of her shop. β are you coming in, autumn wind ? i have no tea for us, but i do have new wares for you. β says she to the changing atmosphere, the beginning wisps of a body in her doorway. a drawer besides her opens, metal touched against the tips of her nails.
the other [ @koyonna ] is an impression of another form, as hidden away as the Saint's own ghoulishness. her body travels from nightfall darkness to dim light, the back door left open and hollowed out. an evening wind travels through alongside the other, the ghost of tails lingering against the doorway. she speaks first, fills the air with an unfamiliar voice, humor laden in her tone: β donβt feed me β i will come back. β
FROM THE OPEN DRAWER COMES A BLANKETED WEAPON, the white fabric beginning to turn black. the Saint does not laugh at the other's words; her mouth turns downwards, brown eyes flickering up towards them, then back to her offering. β well, i would hope so... i don't barter with one - off customers, after all. β the fabric is shifted to reveal a dagger, the gold insignia and its glass dome against the handle carrying a small and faint flame within it. the Saint turns over her right hand and reveals a small burn against its palm, the skin already attempting to heal this little slight. the vampire sighs against her teeth. β damn thing burned me while i first handled it, so Moira gave me a discount on it. i am not fond of blighted things, as you know.... but you know what i say about helping my friends... β
