Dyana felt her shoulders slump slightly when he said he had to go back as soon as possible, but it made sense. Obviously he couldn’t stay or he would have, like he pointed out. She listened to his explanation, her emerald eyes widening as she took in the tattoos he showed her . But it was the last statement he made before looking back at her that made her freeze.
Even as he grinned and said he still wanted food, Dyana could only stare at him with a gaping mouth and bulging eyes. Tears seemed to glisten in them but they didn’t fall, they only made her eyes shine. She took in every aspect of his face that she could, knowing enough about magic to know that staring at things like his jacket/cloak , wasn’t smart. So she analyzed his face, his eyes, his hair, taking in whatever she could. Not realizing she was holding her breath, Dyana was forced to gasp in air as she finished her gaping.
Blinking rapidly to keep herself from tearing up any further, she glanced up at him again, this time shyly. Gratitude was heavy in her eyes. [+maroon “You’d go that far just for my ticket?”] she asked softly, as if she was afraid to speak any louder than a whisper. [+maroon “Thank you. Thank you,”] she looked away, shifting on her feet. She wanted to express her gratitude in a better way, but she hadn’t been allowed to hug anyone in years and she doubted Seiphus would appreciate it. So she turned with renewed determination to the street, walking down the sidewalk. [+maroon “Come on, then! I’ll buy you whatever I can afford from the food court!”] provided they still had money for the doll, of course, she thought to herself.
[center [pic https://i.ibb.co/M7N49h0/seiphus2.png]]
[center [size13 [font "Minion Pro" Seiphus almost appeared disheartened by the words she spoke. Not quite openly sad or angry - but there was a clear shift in his expression and an absence in his tone of voice. [b "No."] He said rather suddenly [b "I have to make this quick I'm afraid. I have business in that dead space."]
Seiphus cleared his throat, and pulled his left sleeve up to reveal a strange patterned tattoo. It was all a vibrant red, a large circle on his forearm with symbols and squares outlining it - many strange symbols and oddities. [b "Check it out-"] He crouched down to meet the girls height - being nearly 6'5 himself - and pointed to the markings. For each box around the circle, there was a symbol inside. Some of the symbols were crossed out and others weren't; Some of the boxes even remained empty while a few looked faded as if on the verge of disappearing. [b "I don't remember anything about the dead space when I'm summoned. All I know is that it's a place where you no longer exist."] Clearing his throat again, he pointed to one of the symbols near the middle of his forearm. [b "This character means return quickly, used to express an urgency in getting where you once were. I mark up this calendar with characters that basically let me know what the fuck is - sorry, language - it lets me know the state of the dead space."] He looked frustrated, and began scratching his head.
[b "I have no. idea. why."] he began, tapping the character over and over again. [b "I don't know why I'd want to go back there. Only that I must."] Seiphus turned away from the girl, facing the sunlight once again. [b "I'd like to hang around for a few decades, dedicate myself to spending time with you as your ticket requested. But for whatever reason I need to get back there as soon as possible. So, I had to work around your request and .. essentially give you a part of myself."] He gestured towards Dyana without looking at her. [b "that part of my existence, of my soul, will be more of a friend to you than I think I could ever manage, Dyana."]
This time, he glanced over to her, his usual grin resetting on his face.
[center [pic https://i.ibb.co/1mqPq9p/him222.jpg]]
[b "That doesn't mean I don't want any grub, I could [i totally] go for some KFC or a big mac [i immediately]."]
Dyana had ducked down to pull out a pair of sandals that had been hidden under leaves, and slipped them on before standing up. When she did, she immediately took in the way Seiphus seemed to bask in the sunlight, and she couldn’t help a very small smile— barely the corners of her lips turning upwards, but still the warmest her expressions had gotten in a while. She tilted her head, watching the being for a moment before tucking her hand behind her back innocently. A detour wouldn’t hurt anything, friends looked out for one another right? If she was going to be Seiphus’ friend one way or another, she shouldn’t be entirely selfish about it.
[+maroon “We can take the path through the forest if you want,”] she offered, her head still slightly tilted as she looked at him. He was [i tall], his form towering over her own by an entire foot. [+maroon “You said something about dead space earlier, right? I don’t mind taking an extra little while if you want to walk around a bit. You seem to like the sun,”] subtlety was clearly not her forté. [+maroon “Or we can walk around the mall for a while after we get there. I can buy you food!”] she seemed extremely pleased with herself for that last idea, almost bouncing in place at the thought of giving him something else he’d like.
[center [pic https://i.ibb.co/M7N49h0/seiphus2.png]]
[center [size13 [font "Minion Pro" Seiphus drifted slowly behind the girl as she took the lead, back slouched down and knees slightly bent, he loomed over her while she walked. Surely a place like this wouldn't welcome a lingering monster from the dead space, he would keep his eyes and ears peeled for any other people and hide himself accordingly. However it didn't seem like others were about in the halls or the dining room. She seemed fluent in escaping the home without being spotted by her abusers.
It wasn't hard to tell she was being abused. She likely had a special property in her blood, the reason she seemed to illuminate the figures and walls she walked by. Seiphus had been summoned by more than enough sad stories, people desperate for freedom.
He could never truly help them.
The thing about his potions was that they weren't easy to make. They didn't appear in his hand like a magic trick and solve everyone's problems. No, his potions took back breaking to create, journeys to gather the ingredients, loss and sacrifice to safely consume. Those tortured people that begged him to magically free them from their lives and abusers - it just wasn't possible.
It left no comfort for him in the dead space.
However, things could be different with Dyana. All she asked for was a friend and Seiphus could proudly say he already had just what she needed on hand. All it took to make was a piece of him. But a piece of him was nothing compared to a chance to leave the dead space he clutched the cartridge from inside his cloak, excitement spreading on his face.
He nodded, watching as Dyana seemed to carefully make her way out the window. Seiphus just seemed to drift apart, like dust caught in a light breeze, the white, black and purple particles danced out the window and reformed the monster on the other side.
This time, he touched the ground directly and waved at the sprinkles of glimmering white in his hair. The pieces collected at his cloak and settled there, making him appear more of a cosplayer than an other wordly monster. Standing at his full 6'5 stature, Seiphus reached up towards the sky, taking in the beams of sunlight with glee. [b "Oh yeah, that's the stuff."] he groaned, stretching his arms, back and kicking up one of his legs for a moment. Fully comforting himself in the body he now physically constructed.
Dyana winced when he told her to keep the clothes, but put them back in the back of her drawer anyway and hid them behind her brown and black dresses once more. She had just pushed the drawer back in when he cut himself off in the middle of his sentence. She sighed. Dyana was naive and unused to social interaction, and a bit emotionally stunted. But she was not stupid. She stood up and opened her top drawer, taking out a hidden bundle of money from within a pair of clean socks. She turned to him.
[+maroon “I know I’m a selfish idiot,”] she said softly. [+maroon “Friends are honest, right? You can be honest with me. I’m not going to run away or anything,”] she turned her head to run her emerald gaze over her bed speckled with blood stains. [+maroon “I don’t really have anywhere to run to, anyway,”] she shrugged after a moment, as if what she said didn’t really matter. Having someone to talk to was already lifting her spirits, she felt really good. She turned to go to her door, tongue sticking out from her lips a bit as she carefully turned the nob and pried the thing open inch by inch, painfully careful not to make a sound. Taking a peek outside, she let out a breath of relief and threw the door open the rest of the way.
[+maroon “Come on. If you want a good doll, we should go and buy one,”] she suggested, leading the way out of her room.
The rest of the house proved to be much different from the stark black and white box that Dyana was forced to call a room. The tile was still black, but the walls were painted in warm browns and there were lots of things hung on the walls and laying around as decoration. It looked fairly normal. There were doors down the hallway, each with a name plate on them. Geranium, Colts, Rose, Azalea. Each door had decorations on them— spell bags hung in the corners of digits drawn on the name plates. Dyana’s door had no name plate, and was plain. She walked past all of those doors slowly, as if afraid of what lay around the corner.
The open living room was almost crowded with items. Herbs hung from the ceiling to dry in bundles, bottles of elixirs and different concoctions filled a bookshelf until almost overflowing, another dark wood bookcase held almost too many witchcraft books for it to hold. There was no television, but there were crystals and poppets and handmade rugs with digits knit into them laying everywhere. It was dark, but felt alive despite the lingering aura of darkness in the air that seemed to be its own incense scent at that point with the way it wafted upwards and hung by the ceiling. There was an entire row of vials filled with blood set out on a table, marked for use for that night’s ritual with Dyana’s name on the tape wrapped around each individual glass container.
[+maroon “They have an alarm on the doors so I can’t escape that way, but the windows are safe,”] she told Seiphus as she made her way to one of the windows. [+maroon “We just have to make sure none of the crystals are out of place,”] she murmured as she carefully slid open the glass door of the window enough for them to slip through. [+maroon “There’s a mall not too far away. We should be able to find a good doll there.”]
[center [pic https://i.ibb.co/M7N49h0/seiphus2.png]]
[center [size13 [font "Minion Pro" Seiphus watched the girl move with sudden vigor - a chipper smile stripped across his face as she pulled out what he would consider some of the tackiest items of clothing he had ever seen in his life. Nodding, smile wide, he grabbed them in examination. [b "Wow.. these are.. [i actually perfect] you know what, you'll probably want to keep these for now trust me and [i I] shall take that-"] and he snatched the 3ds game from her, slipping it proudly into his shifting cloak.
Now he took a moment to really take in the room. Sad, boring, and seemingly foreign to Dyana just as much as it was to him. She wasn't comfortable here, and needed to hide her belongings, and the blood, the vague understanding of where things might be in the very place she lived.
Seiphus was beginning to understand just why she wanted a friend. It dawned on him with every glance he took around the room.
[b "Keep those clothes nearby for now darling, you will need them again. Oh, and thank you for the game. Things get dreadfully boring in the dead space - do you know what it's like not to exist until you're put to work by--"] he cleared his throat, his clean smile returning to his face. Not warm or kind in the slightest - but surely clean. [b "Nevermind, we do need to get that doll though and please, make it a handsome one."] He shook his head as he turned away from her, brushing flakes of the summoning magic out of his hair, they only danced around him and landed on his cloak. [b "[size12 God forbid my soul get's trapped in an ugly cult vessel.. [size11 like the ones those witches use]"]] he muttered.
The sound of her name made Dyana jolt, the unfamiliar voice prompting her to raise her head and absorb the surreal scene in front of her. Emerald eyes wide, she let her arm drop to her side and opened up her posture a bit so it wasn’t as defensive as before. It had worked? She had seen the covens she had been handed to accomplish all sorts of wild things, but she had never imagined she would be able to do anything like it. She wasn’t a witch or warlock or anything, just a captive of them. But here he was, the Potion Maker, fading into existence in a way no human could. Despite the lingering sense of anxiety, Dyana felt her breathing slow.
Her mouth tilted down slightly when he called her ticket the least pressing, but she figured it was fair. It wasn’t like she needed a demon killed or poltergeist banished, after all. It was only her sanity at stake.
She didn’t know if he knew that though.
His words hammered straight at the insecurity she had been feeling for the whole two weeks since the ritual, and she sagged in disappointment. [+maroon “The ritual [i does] take quite a while to finish, too...”] she agreed somberly. She would be willing to do it, anyway, if it meant having someone to talk to that didn’t only want her blood and suffering. But he was right, and she knew it. It was not practical.
Dyana raised her head again when he mentioned the potion, and she blinked as a little light seemed to enter her green eyes. That’s right. Why would he even show up if he couldn’t help her? Cautiously hopeful, she nodded eagerly when he said there was something she needed to do— but his following question threw her for a loop.
[+maroon “A... doll?”] she asked, delicate eyebrows pinched in confusion. [+maroon “Well, the Coven might have some blank poppets and the like laying around, I don’t think they’re here right now anyway. Umm... Azalea’s room might have a porcelain doll, but she always locks her door. And her cat is mean,”] she cautiously told the being. Suddenly her eyes shot open, as if remembering something. [+maroon “Oh! That’s right, I forgot, I forgot!”] the girl hurried over to her chest of drawers, pulling out the bottommost drawer and removing the carefully folded dressed stored inside before carelessly laying them on the floor. Leaning forward, she reached to the very back where she had hidden her treasures. Pulling them out, she turned around to face the man she had summoned with a lopsided smile. It looked more nervous than anything else, almost as if she had forgotten what a smile was for.
[+maroon “I remembered what the book suggested I keep on hand for you. I, uh, had to steal the money to buy it but that’s nothing new. I wanted to get you food too, but it would have gotten cold or gone bad...”] in her hands was a bundle of men’s clothing— a forest green hoodie, a golden yellow t-shirt, and obnoxious purple jeans. She was so starved for color she had just bought whatever stood out to her eyes. On top of them was a beat up 3DS game that she had bought used. She had the store guy test to to make sure it worked. She didn’t know the first thing about things like that, so it was the Goosebumps game. It had seemed cool at the time. [+maroon “Um, I don’t really have anything else in my room. We can go look for a doll if you want, though?”]
[center [pic https://i.ibb.co/M7N49h0/seiphus2.png]]
[center [size13 [font "Minion Pro" Seiphus materialized slow, his skin lighting up and shimmering in places as it grew under the intoxicating star-dusted cloak. [b "Dyana, Dyana, Dyana.."] The Potion Maker spoke her name in a tut-tut manner, his feet touched the ground without sound, and he sat on the floor in front of her and examined her with eyes glowing a vibrant multi-shaded red. [b "Of all the tickets I've received, this one is certainly the least pressing."] He waved the parchment she had sent him through the ritual before tucking it into his cloak.
[b "You understand we can't be friends, you and I, don't you? It's not that I don't want to be your friend but . . Well for me to see you would require the same disgusting ritual every time we wanted to meet do you realize how many [i dead rabbits] and [i blood sacrifice] that is? It just wouldn't work out!"] He threw his hands up in exclamation, dropping them back on his criss-crossed legs.
[b "It took me a while, but I managed just the potion to give you what you want; your friendship with me."] his eyebrows waved up and down, letting the sentence impact for a moment. [b "There's just one thing I need from you before I can teach you the use of this potion."]
[b "Do you have any devilishly handsome dolls around here?"] He looked around, the place was dull and didn't seem suited for a girl her age. His face clearly showed his distaste for the interior of the room. For it's scent of metal.
Blonde hair fanned out on the ground like a flame. A horribly cold, sad flame. It was some of the only color in the room though, adding light the way a candle would. Against the pitch black floors and paper white walls and ceiling, the yellow was welcomed. Even brighter green, strikingly emerald eyes, stared up at the blank canvas above the girl. They were blank, emotionless, as if their owner had no idea how to emote.
The girl was slight. Petite. Not underweight, but barely healthy. Her skin held only the slightest peach hue to it to contrast it with the walls, and she was wearing a plain black robe and shorts and nothing else. The bed she was laying on the floor next to was also stark black, from the metal of the frame to the sheets and blankets.
Black didn’t show blood very well, so that was the logic behind that choice. There were dried splotches all over the bed, of every size and shape, that one might mistake for a water stain or something similar if they did not already know the kind of things that were done to the girl laying on the floor.
Besides the bed was a small chest of drawers and nothing else. Stark black.
And then the girl felt her heart start to speed in her chest, and panic ran down her spine like a gentle knife tip, sending the teen gasping. She tossed herself upright as fast as she could with her bare minimum muscle mass, feeling her throat already start to string with her hyperventilation and her chest ache as she drew in too-deep breaths in an attempt to get air into her lungs. Her bare feet and hands scrabbled against the cold black tiles as she forced herself into a corner of the room by the foot of her bed, instantly hugging her knees with one hand as she tucked her head down and held out her right arm obediently.
She just didn’t want them to drag the pain out. She was good. She’d be good. Her arm was perfectly parallel to the ground, the marred porcelain skin of her underarm exposed, hand tilted down to expose her scarred wrist. Her entire arm was strewn with healing slices and burns of every shape, size, and stage of healing. There was one that was only slightly more pale than the rest of her skin that ran from the inside of her elbow to the bottom of her palm. It was like abstract art on a column of canvas. Pinks, reds, peaches, and pale whites all sketched together.
She heard footsteps. Heavy boots on tile. They weren’t there, but she could hear them all the same. Her fear conjured the familiar sound as easily as it had sent her heart racing. She wanted to babble, to beg, but she kept her mouth tightly clenched shut. Sound would only make them worse. Sound would only make it more real. She had to stay quiet. Quiet. Quiet. Just hold out her arm as an offering and stay quiet. If she was lucky, they’d just take a vial of it and go.
[center [size24 [font "Minion Pro" [b The Potion Maker is Upon You]]]]
[center [pic https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/367250950425018371/533275187634896907/unknown.png]]
[center [size13 [font "Minion Pro" Please set the scene, what is your character doing right now? Where are they? Please begin the story wherever and however you'd like
When the Potion Maker is being summoned to your location, you will feel a looming sense of dread, anxiety, and fear wash over you - please depict receiving these feelings near the end of the post to set up the entrance of the Potion Maker - From then on the story will move forward however either of us decide - twists and cliche's are welcome however godly power is not - take all events at face value as your character is as human as you yourself would be in their situation. Making an unwise choice and not thinking through your plans and decisions could lead to terrible occurrences
Here is a list of things that may occur should you make bad choices:
Severe Consequence to your characters physical or mental well being
Teleportation to another world
Irreversible changing of the world you know
Immediate or slow character death
Death of the characters loved ones
Body Possession and likely much more
We write this story together - however I will behave more like a dungeon master than a partner at some points to finalize decisions and flesh out the universe for future use in my own stories and possibly future threads.
Please understand that while I do hold authority over the content of this world I will never step on your toes when you include things I have not thought of or included myself - any concept you dream into this world will be valid and explored so please don't hesitate to create this place alongside me.
Thank you again for your interest and apologies for the long blabber.
All posts are either in parody or to be taken as literature. This is a roleplay site. Sexual content is forbidden.