#eventually ull get to meet one of my juvie hall ocs >:) but not just yet

[synchlora]

if i crash ? uwu

Summary: Party Poison learns how cruel the city can be to those that don't like it's rules

(aka Party Poison experiences divine intervention aka the phoenix witch is tired of having to pull every string of fate to keep Party Poison's dumb ass alive)

Warnings: this includes the idea that Party Poison's memory was wiped and manipulated by BLi, and though it's not spoken about in detail in this particular scene it is still implied.

how did you manage to choose the one witch-related wip on here man?? anyway im not complaining this'll be a fun one bc it's abt Party's backstory!! not so much fun for them. but hey, youll get backstory!! anyway, all u need to know for this is that Poison is abt 13/14 and has just recently been taken from their family and had their memory wiped. they were then basically just left out on the streets by BLi and then they followed a weird purple light into a warehouse w some people before they passed out of exhaustion.

-----

When they awoke, they found themself in a very strange place. Yes, it was a warehouse much like the one they faintly remembered being in before losing consciousness, but it seemed much brighter somehow. Not bright in the sense of the flickering LEDs and blindingly white halls of BLi buildings, but bright in more of an emotional sense.

The first thing they noticed was the graffiti splashed across the walls.

Beautiful paintings of figures they’d never seen before, words hardly readable in their massive letters and unique fonts. Even abstract patterns littered the halls of this place, color weaving its way into every corner until no monochrome concrete walls were left. Though they didn’t know how, seeing the graffiti filled their chest with the saddest sense of nostalgia. Particularly one figure that they couldn’t quite place.

A tall, hunched silhouette- no, rather just someone cloaked in black- covered in feathers obscuring all but their face, hands, and feet. Though not covered by feathers, their face was still hidden behind a white mask, haunting hollows of eyes staring out from behind its porcelain cover. In their hands- more like claws- they held a cheap metal shopping cart. One hand was wrapped around the handle, pushing it forward with ease, while the other held something that took them a moment to recognize.

A mask.

Bright yellow with blue triangles above and below each eye-hole, held dangling from one claw on a flimsy little stretched-out length of string. The more they looked at the mask, the more familiar it felt, though they certainly had no idea why. The painting practically seemed to glow, the same purple-ish shade that had guided them here in the first place. They looked back up to the eyes, somehow seeming to be looking back at them now despite not having the appearance to do so.

“You religious or somethin’, kid?”