People Are Poison [Ahmoria Mayy]

WELL, LATE AT NIGHT, WHEN YOU'RE SLEEPING,

Ahmoria Mayy had never been one to find herself attractive; in fact, she had grown up with no meaning behind what was considered handsome or beautiful. In her world, everything was pretty, from the useless and “ugly” to the useful and “beautiful,” nothing was exactly “ugly” to her. If something had a use, and to her, everything has a use, she had no reason to conform to societal negativities of appearance. Even having integrated herself successfully into the human society, Mori never truly understood humans’ concept of beauty or why it mattered so much. “Ugly,” to her, was someone vicious in nature, someone who hated everything or something of nature and wanted it gone. “Beautiful,” to her, meant someone who was caring and wanted nothing more than for the best of the world and those who inhabited it. Should someone be neither of these, they were people considered “faceless” or “grey” to her, people she didn’t care for.


When a few of the women of Basilisk Fang had introduced a mission to her she was hesitant in taking it because she didn’t understand the concept. After much explaining and convincing of the plant demoness, these women had successfully managed to get her to accept the job. Still, Ahmoria wasn’t certain why she had let these ladies convince her because she didn’t know exactly what a modeling job was. They had told her she was “beautiful,” that she would be perfect for the modeling job, and that she “couldn’t possibly be denied.” She would be the headliner, the image that every little, aspiring mage girl would see upon magazines and passing billboards. While it sounded nice and all, she wasn’t necessarily someone who sought out attention from the public, and why should she? Believing herself to be above others was considerably narcissistic and she was not that at all; the only thought she had was to prevent humans’ harm to nature.


At the doors of the agency, the red-haired woman pressed them open and stepped into a quaint, very bland, counseling-like office. Her green gaze wandered around the room as she took in the eggshell-white walls and the rough, tan carpet below her bare feet. Off to the right and in the corner was a small opening into a room that was behind a closed and likely locked door. Mori approached the lady that was behind the desk and lightly tapped on the window in order to gain her attention for the moment.


“Are you the next client?” the woman inquired, “my name is Mary Jane and I’m the attendant of Mr. Quinn. What is your name?”


“Ahmoria Mayy,” she responded calmly to the question asked of her, “this is my first time doing a modeling job, sorry.”


“Oh! That’s wonderful! You’ll have so much fun, I can promise you that,” Mary exclaimed, standing up with some papers and disappearing.


The door opened and Mary Jane beckoned for Ahomria to follow her, closing the door behind her the moment she stepped through. They arrived at a room that was nearly vacant in nature, except for the large, white drape and the camera that stood alone. Mori’s eyes wandered around the even more bland room than the one she had been in, wrinkling her nose a little bit at it. She wasn’t sure what to make of this place because when she had read the job location, she expected it to be in the forest. This was just a building in the forest, but perhaps she had thought it would have been outside in the nature of the world.


“Mr. Quinn?” Mary called out, “you have a client here that is to take some pictures for the magazine; she’s a little early, but not by much.” Mary Jane lightly knocked on the wall and peered into the room, then beckoned with one hand for Ahmoria to follow her in.


A rather grumpy and very short male appeared around the corner of the backdrop, staring harshly at Ahmoria as he looked her over. “Yes, yes. . . She will do just nicely, Mary Jane! I appreciate that you’ve brought this lovely specimen to photoshoot today!” Mr. Quinn spoke up. There upon his face, a wide grin spilled across his lips and his little hands would shoo away his assistant as he then called for Ahmoria to come to him. Scrunching her eyebrows lightly together, the plant demoness slowly walked toward the little man, towering above him by quite a lot. His grubby, little hands reached out and felt up her legs unexpectedly, causing Ahmoria to let out a gasp and swat him away.


“Get your hands off me, fool!” she proclaimed, backing away from the supposed photographer and looking toward Mary Jane. The woman seemingly only shrugged and looked apologetically in her direction before turning her away and leaving her alone.


Mr. Quinn chuckled and walked away from where they were standing, grabbing a stool to pull up behind the camera and stand on it so he could reach the camera buttons. “Come here! We’ll begin by testing out poses that would best fit your physique and that little getup that you have going on right now.” His brown gaze glanced toward her and he waved a baby hand in her direction, forcing her to come over and stand on the backdrop. “Now, pose like you’re the best thing in the world, dear; that’s what this magazine is all about after all, can’t have you being droopy!” Ahmoria did as the man had asked and placed a few poses, watching as the light on the camera flashed and snapped a few pictures. The light was blinding, but she fought through the pain that made her eyes want to water for not being able to blink. It would go on for a few hours with simply pictures and poses before the man released her from her captivity and let her go.