#interactions: cianan
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@ciananbalor Cianan sat waiting for a ride to the airport when he took a seat on the bench. The statement more than anything was to make sure he was awake and not in a complete stupor. The sun had just begun to rise and illuminated everything in a soft yellow glow. He pursed his lips before he dared to suggest, “Maybe you just need some of the hair of the dog that bit you.”
"You are probably right," the Brit said as he rubbed his face over his hands. "Just need to get to my restaurant," he mumbled. He stood up and gripped the back of the bench for a moment before he swayed and started to head in the complete opposite direction of the restaurant, Rowland's. "Have a good today," he waved slightly, still obviously drunk as he walked- or stumbled- away.
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@ciananbalor A boisterous laugh escaped at the mention of vamps. "True true," he added. Picking the beer he raised up this lips but stopped short to add, "Think of how much fun it would be for the tourist." Finally taking down another drink before he hallowed out his cheeks momentarily, "What a simply dreadful thought."
It would certainly be dreadful if the future of our species rested on the backs of vampires, that's for sure," Zephyr commented as he looked at his own beer. He was starting to feel more comfortable with the other man, Cianan. As Cianan laughed, a slight smile spread on Zephyr's cheeks. He liked making people laugh. "So, you know what I do- what do you do?" he asked curiously.
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Never let it be said that Violet didn't herself enjoy some of the stereotypical goth things. In this case, the music, and while yes she knew it was very stereotypical for someone who looked and dressed like her to listen to Bauhaus, but hell, she liked being a little cliche at times. Okay, looking around maybe more than a little cliche, but she had to play up the spooky goth witch vibe for the tourists.
She was in her store, re-shelving some books that she'd decided would look better on the shelf near the back wall rather than the one near the register. As she re-shelved them Wednesday was snoozing on the couch, occasionally letting out tiny yips in her sleep, but otherwise sleeping. As she finished shelving the books she heard the door open and she pulled the remote control from her pocket and turned the volume down slightly. "Hey," she called as she put the last book on the shelf. "Welcome to the Cabinet of Curiosities, looking for anything in particular today?"
@ciananbalor
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For many moons you have been escaping at night from the cold walls of the palace to a land of wonders through a magic mirror in your chambers. Every dawn you return, the soles of your shoes worn out from dancing and exploring, exhaustion set deep in your bones, however blissful.
Should you trust the perfect joy such a place has to offer? Or, better yet, the alluring heir that accompanies you each night? And how could you ever hide this idyllic escape from your father, the king, now that he has some lowborn knight on your tail?
♡ The Night Dance is an interactive story based on the Grimm Brothers’ tale, ‘The Twelve Dancing Princesses.’ Status: DEMO (TBA).
Customize your Main Character, referred to as The Cursed Heir. Pronouns, overall appearance, and personality (based on the choices made throughout the narrative).
Choose your romance. There are two possible romanceable characters in The Night Dance. You can romance each of them individually, opt for no romance at all, or cultivate a poly relationship.
Choose your destiny. Some choices can drastically change the course of the story. Upon revealing truths and unveiling secrets, will your heart or your mind speak for you?
The Night Dance is rated +18 for mature content, depictions of violence, depression, and eventual sexual themes.
Alistair ⋆ he/him or Alis ⋆ she/her. A lowborn knight making their way home. You don’t know why someone in their position would return after being knighted, or the reason why they took the challenge of unveiling your secret, but you know enough to be wary of them. Valiant, observant, and witty, they’re what anyone would picture when thinking of a knight. Except for the look of sadness that takes over their face whenever they think no one’s paying attention. [+ more]
Cianan ⋆ he/him or they/them. The mysterious dance partner you encounter every night. They have been there from the very first moment you stepped onto the grounds of this otherworldly land, offering their guidance and hand whenever you needed. Curt, cultured, and gentle, they remind you of princes you’ve read about in fairytales. But in fairytales, princes don’t keep their intentions unknown or hide obvious secrets behind tired eyes; it appears, after all, that nothing is as perfect as it seems. [+ more]
The idea for this IF came to me when I was playing @swansong-if, a lovely game that’s become one of my all-time favorites, so I’d definitely have to mention it here. I’d never think of adapting my favorite fairytale into an IF not for it. ♡
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My beloved Cianán 😍😍😍😍
I would love to dance the night away in the arms of this dullahan Thank you to @/artbyainna (IG) for this stunning artwork. I am blown away by this. 🥺🥺🥺😍😍😍
I've written 2 Cianán x Reader fics for anyone interested:
Under the Moon: You spend a quiet moment with Cianan under the moonlight.
Together (Explicit / 18+ Only)" You and Cianán enjoy some alone time.
#cianan lovelink#cianan o faolain#Cianán Ó Faoláin#cianán x reader#cianan x reader#lovelink#lovelink by ludia#lovelinks#interactive story app#lovelink fan art#cianan fan art#my commission
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LoveLink Characters and How They'd Act on Thanksgiving
Actively refuses to eat the turkey, stating it's unethical and is now going on a food strike:
Emmalynn/Angel, Franz/Ingrid, Nori
Refuses to eat the turkey but brings tofurkey instead:
Noah/Antoine/Nina, Makoa
Judges your ability to cook a turkey but won't change how you cook it:
Austin/Damien, Ryan/Daniel, Kayla/Jasmine
Shoves you out of the way to save the turkey:
Mamoru/Dider, Adam/Dominic
Gets on table naked and proclaims they're what everyone's going to be eating:
BLAKE/KENAU, Jonathan/Albert, Stefan/Oliver, Jade/Eveline
Watches football and screams at the TV:
Brett/Susan, Rory/Garrett, Sam/Michael, Gabe
Doesn't understand football but screams because everyone else is:
Ruby/Ana/Milena, Nicholas/Elizabeth, Nori, Jake/Zayn/Charlie, Min-Jae/Liam
Hates interacting with people and wishes this holiday wouldn't exist:
Vitoria/Sage/Emerson, Jamie/Seth/Julia
Loves people, says they should get together like this more often:
Min-Jae/Liam, Hugo/Marco, Ruby/Ana/Milena, Noah/Antoine/Nina, Sheng/Tomas
Asks everyone and their mother if they want to "take a walk" with them:
Wyatt/Raphael, Eve/Alice, Grace/Clementine, Alex/Calum, Makoa, Skylar/Jaden, Gabe
Drunk Uncle/Wine Aunt:
EVE/ALICE, Dr. Vile, Felicia, Jamie/Seth/Julia
Starting arguments with everyone because they need a little drama to spice this holiday up:
Skylar/Jaden, Grace/Clementine, Samantha/Aesha, DR. VILE
Offers to help do the dishes:
Austin/Damien, Jonathan/Albert, Rory/Garrett, Brett/Susan, Hugo/Marco, Rose/Dahlia
Tries to escape to go Black Friday Shopping:
Blake/Kenau, Skylar/Jaden, Franz/Ingrid, Felicia
Wants to go Black Friday Shopping but gets left behind:
Rose/Dahlia, Rory/Garrett
Thinks Christmas/Halloween is better:
Nick, Julien/William, Hazel, Cianan, Vitoria/Sage/Emerson
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[ROTG] Advise And Consent
Chapter 21 of A CITIZEN OF THE UNIVERSE AND A GENTLEMAN TO BOOT, a Rise of the Guardians fanfiction.
===========================
The next minute, Pitch was wringing his hands in pain.
"I'm sorry!" Emily exclaimed in horror. "I didn't mean to hurt you. My self-defence training kicked in."
When Pitch had his breath back, he said, "No, I deserved that. I didn't think to ask you first." He grimaced. "I've fallen out of the habit of asking. It comes with the territory of having no one hear you when you speak."
Emily nearly made the comment about that being a parent's burden, but thought better of it.
“It still doesn’t mean that I should just grab YOU first without asking, either,” she replied. “You’re your own person, Pitch. And you’re a guest under my roof. And I still want to help you. What was your invasive idea?”
The Boogeyman leaned back and closed his eyes, sighing tiredly. He said, “I thought I could find some way of putting you into a kind of waking dream to actually SHOW you some of the fractured bits of my mind. Sanderson told me that he’d done something similar with you and your family. A shared vision.”
“Hmmmm,” Emily made a thoughtful noise. “I had a similar idea, but I thought that perhaps we could ask Toothiana for help? Memories are her department after all.”
Pitch frowned, his eyes still shut. “Oh, I’m SURE she’d love the opportunity to knock another one of my teeth out.”
“WHAT?!”
--------------------------------------------
Nicholas St. North absolutely, positively hated having to admit that every once in a very, very, very long while he could be wrong about something.
There was a wrong staring him in the face, and it made for a rather uncomfortable feeling in his belly.
He had been wrong to argue with Emily Bennett about taking care of an injured spirit. He had argued, of course, because it was Pitch Black.
Pitch Black, who had stolen belief over the centuries from the children that North had chosen to protect. Pitch Black, who had stolen belief from him , five years ago.
Pitch Black, who had hurt him deeply by showing disdain at the joy of the Christmas truce in 1914.
Pitch Black, who had battled him nearly to a standstill in 1566 in Basel, and would have defeated him had the other Guardians not been there to back him up.
Pitch Black, who had refused to join them as a Guardian shortly before that.
Pitch Black, who North had insulted by the way he had presented the offer to become a Guardian, as though he were doing the Boogeyman a favour and dismissing Pitch’s suggestions out of hand.
Nicholas St. North had every reason to feel anger, resentment, and distaste towards Pitch’s actions since they had first met. But Bunny’s latest tongue-lashing had not fallen on deaf ears this time. And North’s belly was telling him that he needed to reconsider how he interacted with Pitch Black in the future. He couldn’t change the past.
He would remain wary. But he would listen to input from the ones who’d had the most recent contact with Pitch… his Yetis, Toothiana, and Emily Bennett. Then he would weigh that input and see whether he needed to make amends.
And then, perhaps, his belly would stop telling him he had been in the wrong.
North squared his shoulders, his mind now more settled, and picked up one of his tinier hammers, ready to work on an ice prototype of a toy with gears and flywheels. Of course, as happened without fail, the door to his office burst open and a Yeti demanded his attention.
Someday they’d learn to knock. He strangled back his groan of frustration and turned to face this new interruption.
A familiar white-haired troublemaker waggled his fingers in the toymaker’s direction. Behind Jack, North could see three figures whose heights dwarfed even the Guardian of Wonder.
“Sorry not to have called ahead, North,” said Cianan as he moved forward; the Yeti let him pass, seeming to quiver in fear in the presence of the ancient mage and to shrink from contact with Cianan’s silver-white robe.
“Is no trouble!” lied North through his teeth, mentally making a note to put himself on the Naughty List for the infraction. “Company is always welcome at Santoff Claussen!” He stood up, put the tiny hammer back on his workbench with a sigh of regret, and waved his guests to the overstuffed chairs that flanked his tool shelves.
“You know my husband Richard, of course,�� Cianan continued, affectionately stroking the arm of a thin being in a dark blue tunic with three-quarter sleeves worn over white slacks, accessorised with dark blue wristlet gloves and a jaunty striped scarf. The fashionable entity’s hair was a helmet of ice. “And this is his brother George.” The third visitor was portly, with tufts of hair quite literally made of flame springing from his scalp. He was garbed in a heavy cable-knit brown sweater and corduroy pants, but seemed uncomfortable in them; North guessed he was used to a warmer climate than the Pole.
They all shook hands, North trying not to take George’s deep frown lines personally. Jack flew up to perch on one of the higher shelves while the other three took spot in the seating area. North thought better of offering fruitcake to his guests. He asked, “So. To what do I owe pleasure?’
Jack grinned. “Snowy and his boytoy here have a nature-gone-wild problem which dovetails nicely with our Boogeyman problem, and Mister 101 here agrees with me.”
“Oh?’ queried North, just as Cianan sputtered in outrage, “BOYTOY?’ George smiled, which softened his features admirably, and laid a friendly hand on Cianan’s shoulder to calm him down. Richard shot George a grateful look and answered, “Yes. There are some things going on Mother has been too busy to investigate until now, which are having trickle-down effects like what’s happening to your Pitch Black.”
“Is not MY Pitch Black!” North protested loudly.
“Awww, North , you really do care,” teased Jack, and held up his hands placatingly. “No, really, listen to me. These guys think that if we can solve Pitch’s split personality problem, it will have ripple effects outward and stop the pocket of dimensional jiggery-pokery that Mother Nature is so worried about. And that’s where you come in, big guy.”
North leaned back and laced his fingers over his belly, drawing his eyebrows together in a fierce frown. “What do I need to do?”
“We need to find that kid that Sandy showed us, the one whose vines beat up Pitch. You’ve got to have old records of past believers to make your Naughty and Nice Lists from, right? These guys will help you look.” Jack rubbed the back of his neck with one hand. “The bad thing is that I have no idea what the kid’s name is.”
He briefly described the boy from details he’d seen in Sandy’s shared vision… location, approximate age, height, clothing, and most importantly the sketchpad.
“I know that’s not much to go on. I’m going to fly home to talk to Emmy and Pitch to get more information, while you all get started.”
Emily shook her head at Pitch’s recounting the loss of one of his teeth at the hands of the Tooth Fairy. “Jamie never told me about that.”
“I’m not sure that any of the children saw it, thankfully. They might have been scarred for life, seeing one of their idols striking a fallen foe. Even if Toothiana thought her wrath was righteous, she was definitely not abiding by Queensbury rules.”
She couldn’t help herself; that last part was so unexpected that Emily found herself giggling. Pitch grinned back at her, and she guessed that she’d been forgiven for the wrist-twisting.
“Well,” she said, “that might actually help, having an older tooth to compare memories with, if we could get a more recent tooth as well.” “Wait a minute. You’re not actually planning to let that animated feather duster punch me again, are you?”
“No-o-o, not exactly.”
“I am NOT letting that hot-tempered hummingbird anywhere NEAR my mouth, thank you! I’ll bite her in half if she tries.”
“But —”
“NO.”
“Fine, I give up. For now, anyway. We’re not getting anywhere like this.” Emily stood up and brushed her hands on her jeans. “I’m going to get some sleep, and see if I can come up with a better idea with a fresher mind tomorrow.”
Pitch snorted. “Maybe YOUR mind will be fresher. Hopefully mine doesn’t decide to tear me apart.”
“Now you’re just being self-pitying again.”
“Perhaps.”
Emily sighed in defeat. She said, “Good night, Pitch. And don’t think I’ve forgotten that you didn’t answer my question about hanging around the Burgess Library.”
“Good night, Emily James. I’ve not forgotten either, and I will explain. But not tonight; you’re absolutely correct that we are both weary, you and I.”
She closed the attic door behind her and went downstairs to her bedroom, feeling as though this entire week had been several years long.
#sylph writes#rise of the guardians#rotg fanfiction#emily james bennett#pitch black#nicholas st. north#jack frost#snow miser#heat miser#winter warlock
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Zeph gave the other man a slight smile when he gestured to his own ear before he reached out and pushed Cianan's hand down, not wanting the tourists to notice the movement. "Hey," he said with a slight chuckle. "Watch out or I'll tell them there's a witch offering to show off magic tricks," he whispered with a grin. "Finish this drink and we'll head over?" he offered as he picked his drink up and took another drink of it.
“Hm,” Zeph said as he thought about that. “And do you look for things from all people, or do you have specific items you look for?” he questioned as he ran his finger along the curve of the handle of his glass. “If you look for just anything, I may have a few things back at my place you’d like to see,” he commented as he glanced at the other, curious what he’d say. Was it too soon to invite someone back to his house? Would the other man think he was trying to be forward when he was just trying to show off some interesting artifacts? Or was he trying to just show off his artifacts? Sometimes he wasn’t even sure what he was doing, even here, he wasn’t sure what he was doing here- but he was here and he was going to make the most of it.
Cianan rubbed his chin with his knuckles before he nodded, "Yeah, both. People usually hire me when they want particular items, but I do have a rather unique collection of things that were too good to pass up." Cianan pursed his lips and pushed the beer back, surprised by the invitation. He was way too curious not to take him up on the offer. "Sure, it would be foolish to turn down such an invitation from a–" he stopped short and pointed at his own ear before smiling broadly. Even if Zephyr's items were of no use, he would at least have another contact for business: and a lawman to boot.
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❛ you look awful. what happened? ❜
Truth be told, Francis felt awful, there was nothing like a night of drinking with someone younger than him to remind him that he was in fact not a young man anymore. "Ah, this would be the result of showing off," Francis looked at the other man with a shrug and then a roll of his neck. "I'll be fine in a bit, I just haven't gone to sleep yet, is all." he explained.
@ciananbalor
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What are their thoughts about marriage and kids?
alistair grew up in a big household with their parents and three siblings, so they’re not unfamiliar with the intricacies of familial relationships. they see marriage as a pact of love and trust between two people, something important that should be honored as long as it lasts. marriage isn’t a recurring thought for them, but they can see themselves in matrimony if they find someone they love too much to let go, because they’d want to bind themselves to them forever.
they are very good with kids—another perk of growing up in a household full of them and teaching young squires and interacting with starry-eyed children as a knight. being a parent crosses their mind, sometimes; alistair’s a leader, after all, and guiding someone through life and nurturing them does sound fascinating. but after leaving knighthood, these thoughts have been smothered. what good could they ever give after losing everything?
cianan has yet to see a happy marriage in their life. the silverlands don’t offer much to see, actually. the lordlings (or underlordlings, since they’ve been banished here) that populate the place marry out of necessity, forming alliances that can help their survival in such an inhospitable place. “i didn’t marry your father,” they heard time and time again from their mother. “he had nothing to give me.” therefore, marriage out of love is something quite foreign to them.
they think they’re a disaster dealing with kids, but give them a crying baby and the infant will immediatly calm down—even if they didn’t do anything to soothe it. kids are drawn to their calm and solitary aura, as if they are the one in need of nurturing.
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Omg hi hi hi. This is such a COOL concept?? Fairytale retellings have such a grip on me. Please, PLEASE let this not fall through 😭 you can do it author!!
How long have you been working on this? And what kind of flavor will each of the romances have if you get me? As in, how will each of the romance options act towards MC romantically?
omg thank you so much! i’ll do my best to go through with this. i’m very happy with the reactions regarding this project, and i really think i have something special in hands. i’m a complete newbie to developing interactive fiction and twine has been kicking my ass lately, so i hope you can be patient with me ♡ i’ve been working on this since march, so it’s kind of taking its first steps now. to infinity and beyond i guess.
we’re talking flavors? i’ll do just that.
alistair’s is savory: rich and earthy—a combination of salt, sugar and spice. they challenge the world view of the mc at the same time they understand and care about them.
cianan’s is bittersweet: suave and magical, but with a pungent feel to it—like dark chocolate. they show the world mc dreams about having, a world of wonder and possibilities. but doesn’t it all seem too good to be true?
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Francis paused, then nodded as he held up a finger. "A bit quicker indeed, it may take me some time to get there this way," he agreed as he turned and walked back before plopping back down on the bench. "Listen," he leaned towards Cianan. "Would it be terribly ignorant of me to ask for a hand? I mean, I understand, Brittan and Ireland don't always get on, but that's not my fault," he said as he looked up at the other hopefully. Fuck he was drunker than he realized.
"You are probably right," the Brit said as he rubbed his face over his hands. "Just need to get to my restaurant," he mumbled. He stood up and gripped the back of the bench for a moment before he swayed and started to head in the complete opposite direction of the restaurant, Rowland's. "Have a good today," he waved slightly, still obviously drunk as he walked- or stumbled- away.
A small smile bloomed on his lips as he watched the infamous chef begin to stagger away–knowing he was heading completely in the wrong direction. Standing up from the bench he called out, "Rowland–it be best if you turned around and went west instead of east. You'd surely get there much quicker."
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ciananbalor:
Studying the pretty woman it appeared she was almost nervous by him which was surprising, to say the least. Cianan did his best to disarm any possible intimidating notions by attempting something that vaguely resembled a smile. After all, he was here to make a possible business associate. At the mention of her name, he bowed his head slightly in a gesture of respect as the pseudo-smile faded he inhaled through his nose before taking a step closer to the other witch pulling a book from the shelf near where she stood. Turning his head to meet her gaze he replied, “I was thinking we might cater to the same clientele given the proclivity of this unique town.” Cianan put the book down to his side. It was the grimoire of the Italian witch he’d once known.
Mustering up a forced grin he chose his words carefully. It would be surprising to most anyone that truly knew him that he would choose to seek out a possible business alliance with another witch due to his long history of mistrust of his own kind, and it wasn’t without careful thought that he made this attempt. “I was wondering if you might be in need of someone to locate difficult-to-find items? Perhaps we can be of mutual benefit to each other’s businesses,” he asked.” Cianan had barely got the question out when he saw a glimmer of a soul nearby. Turning his attention towards the women dressed in roaring 20’s garb he tilted his head. He purposely warded himself before coming as not to be distracted by the dead, but here stood a very much dead soul of a woman. An audible grunt escaped his mouth. The moment the dead looked at him she disappeared. Apparently, the ward took its effect. It was then he surmised that the woman hadn’t been there for him at all, but rather Ms. Dinsmore. Brows lifted he turned back to the blonde witch and smirked, “I see I’m in the presence of a necromancer.”
“Careful with that,” Violet said when he pulled the book down from the shelf. “That’s not a replica,” she said as she stepped closer and ran her fingers lovingly over the spine of the book. “It took a lot of negotiating and a few threats from my husband to get that,” she explained as she smiled at the book a little. But then she glanced back at him with interest when he asked if she was in need of help finding items. “Perhaps we can,” she said with a slight smile, her interest was piqued to say in the least.
Especially when he let out a sound at the soul that entered the room and then disappeared. Her cheek twitched slightly before she took the book from his hand while he was distracted. “You’re in the presence of a businesswoman,” she said shortly. She didn’t like to talk about necromancy, and the book he’d selected had been important to her for a reason. It was in the shop for the aesthetic but it would be kept with more... Interesting items behind the counter, for when Violet was doing her own research. A hand went to the necklace she wore and she twisted the chain around her fingers for a moment before letting it fall back to her chest. “I assume you want to sell me items to sell here- or is it more of a consignment offer?” she asked, trying to keep the conversation away from necromancy, and back on business. “You bring the items in here to sell and when they do, we split the profits?” she asked as she moved behind the counter and put the grimoire on a shelf behind her, then turned back to him with a quirked eyebrow. “Something like that?”
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ciananbalor:
His eyes drifted away at the thought of the vamps in charge. It would be one hell of a show. He had nothing against them but humans and some supernaturals are biased for a reason. Nodding at the question before he answered, “I’m a finder of things. I’m a merchant trader on paper, but really I help others find magical items.” Cianan was always as vague as possible for a reason, but he’d suspect the other would ask if they were curious enough, and Cianan might be obliged to open up a bit more. The longer he sat with the fae the more he liked him.
“Hm,” Zeph said as he thought about that. “And do you look for things from all people, or do you have specific items you look for?” he questioned as he ran his finger along the curve of the handle of his glass. “If you look for just anything, I may have a few things back at my place you’d like to see,” he commented as he glanced at the other, curious what he’d say. Was it too soon to invite someone back to his house? Would the other man think he was trying to be forward when he was just trying to show off some interesting artifacts? Or was he trying to just show off his artifacts? Sometimes he wasn’t even sure what he was doing, even here, he wasn’t sure what he was doing here- but he was here and he was going to make the most of it.
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ciananbalor:
The call was a bit overdue, but once he’d heard from an acquaintance that the proprietor of the shop was indeed a witch, he procrastinated. Visiting the establishment a few weeks back he thought it would be perfect to maybe align himself given the commonality of interest. This wasn’t your typical crystal and incense metaphysical shop which had more often been the case when he stumbled onto said shops. There were indeed enchanted items, skilled taxidermy, and even legitimate grimoires. One from a warlock that lived on the eastern coast of Italy during the 16th century that was of particular interest. He knew him fairly well and wondered how his grimoire ended up here. Entering the store again he noticed a different attendant today, and before he even made it ten feet, he knew clearly she was the witch.. Magic permeated the air making it slightly static; something that was all too familiar. Clearly, she was powerful.
His eyes took in her form and he wondered how many centuries she’d seen. The tall slim figure with large set eyes could easily pass for twenty-something which only spoke of her talents. A small grunt emanated from what he’d first assumed was a throw pillow on the couch. He was surprised to find it was a toy dog. Stopping several feet from the witch he nodded, before answering. “Indeed, I am. I’m looking for you.” Letting his eyes scan the room he noticed they were alone and it was in fact safe to have a discreet conversation. Bowing his head slightly before he continued, “The name is Cianan Balor and I believe we might be helpful to one another. I work as a trader if you will.” The leather-clad gloves rubbed when he interlocked his fingers. Clearing his throat before he continued, “I specifically work at locating items of significant supernatural importance.”
@xvioletxdinsmorex
Violet watched as the tall man looked around her shop, seemed to be taking everything in, and then looked down at Wednesday who was still sleeping, basking in the small ray of sunlight that was let in by the glass pane of the front door. She smiled slightly as the little dog grunted and then looked back at the man. He was like her she realized, a witch, but not only that, there was something familiar to his energy. He was really like her. She had never met someone that had the same abilities as her, and it surprised and kind of scared her if she was honest, the memories of her father telling her what she was, what she could do was dark and unnatural, and only people who practiced black magic could do or embrace such things.
“Looking for me?” she asked as she picked up another book to put on the shelf and started to wipe it down with a rag. Her anxiety was quelled slightly when he introduced himself and she set down the book before turning back to him, wiping her hands on the black skintight jeans she wore. “Violet Dinsmore,” she introduced herself in reply. His specialty interested her now and she looked at him with more interest. “And how can I help with that?” her blue eyes shone with interest, sure, she had her ways of getting things that she wanted, but most of them involved a hefty price tag that she was more than willing to pay for the things she wanted.
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