CAUSE I CAN FEEL THE RAIN
WASH AWAY MY SINS. AND I CAN FEEL THE PAIN
SEEPING OFF MY SKIN
cause every single time i'm searching for a way i'm always lost and never found
The Prunus serrulata, though more locally known to be the Japanese Cherry Blossom, is a commodity within the alchemical circle that is so dearly coveted by the scholars who endear themselves with potion brew, however not entirely without selfish reasons. Many of those who exercise the art are more inclined to complete their solutions with an incorporated liquid catalyst as a means of controlling the extremes of of any brewing - the chemical reactions, particularly, could be demonic almost if given leeway to run a frenzy. The more complicated a brew, the stronger a catalyst, and with the rise of demands for potions of the notorious kind came an insatiable hunger for the materials that provided the catalysts with their characteristic potency.
In London, the alchemists of the locale suffered great deficiency in their potions whenever the long winters came, and hence their large favoring for preserved crocus as primary catalysts for their brews - though these were not as effective as the Spring blooms that were significantly more stable when processed into essences. The shortage of proper flowers was comparable to an epidemic for London's scholars, so there'd been flower shipments arriving in bulk from distant lands by the port almost everyday in order to salvage the brewing business and a few pockets.
Of course, the men of the trade were capable enough to deliver a variety of flora to ease the community's demand regardless of the season, but this too, brought something undesired for the scholars such that competition rose and people were dying out of ill-fated greed. The day a galleon arrived with crates of cherry blossoms encased in glass would become London's prelude to a curse, for however fragile these petals were, they certainly made up for in their naturally occurring magic embed that made it one of the most powerful catalyst materials - a status that fueled the community to purchase boxes of the blossom in droves, creating a hunger that could no longer be satiated until competitors were incarcerated or left for dead.
Fortunately for him, the cherry petal fiasco was a dilemma before his becoming a Croll, and therefor in essence a time prior to his years as Roxanna's understudy. It'd dawned upon him when he'd heard of the tale that he might never experience the pseudo-miracles that were said to undertake in the beakers that fancied a faint pink glow, not since the circle's higher-ups banned all such substances with crimes involving heresy and murder.
Needless to say, what the present reflects was a society much more tame and yet still fantastical - perhaps even more. The limits of his alchemical research changed once the circumstances of the game shifted and Oswald Croll was a now a foreigner in a strange, yet wonderful world. Earthland spawned many a great opportunity to further his studies, and alongside that was the possibility of refining his potions by a magnitude previously thought to be impossible. And for so long he tired of the work he put into building his home and apothecary, now the alchemist might actually realize a quarter of his goals.
The sooner, the better.
Though not all the perfect endeavors arose from menial work, as his teacher Roxanna would remind him, henceforth would Oz ready himself a journey to neighboring areas to further his compendium of ingredients with things both exotic and new, of bits and pieces that flourished underneath foreign suns, breathed different winds, and tasted ancient lands, left to be untouched by humanity. The thought provoked him so intensely that he'd managed to a plan the trip with a regard for timeslots and fully cycled routines. Such the itinerary was a schedule created with an intention to be followed. Nothing less of that. Still, it'd been his error to ignore the possible misgivings he'd encounter down the road less traveled. Not one of this scale, at least.
Today, he and Padpardscha were due for a trip deep into isolation, as an assurance perhaps of the rarity of the material, and Oswald's personal method to avoiding the majority of the population and the very thought of interaction itself. Somehow along the way however was a break in the train track and because his Homebound Key couldn't fair its job without proper exploration of an area, they were both left to their lonesomes in a city flocked by tourists. Already the day seemed dangerously close to becoming one that he'd regret.
"Honey, can we go see the Cherry Blossoms at the center of the town?"
"...You do know that the square itself is closed because of that, right?"
Or was it?
In London, the alchemists of the locale suffered great deficiency in their potions whenever the long winters came, and hence their large favoring for preserved crocus as primary catalysts for their brews - though these were not as effective as the Spring blooms that were significantly more stable when processed into essences. The shortage of proper flowers was comparable to an epidemic for London's scholars, so there'd been flower shipments arriving in bulk from distant lands by the port almost everyday in order to salvage the brewing business and a few pockets.
Of course, the men of the trade were capable enough to deliver a variety of flora to ease the community's demand regardless of the season, but this too, brought something undesired for the scholars such that competition rose and people were dying out of ill-fated greed. The day a galleon arrived with crates of cherry blossoms encased in glass would become London's prelude to a curse, for however fragile these petals were, they certainly made up for in their naturally occurring magic embed that made it one of the most powerful catalyst materials - a status that fueled the community to purchase boxes of the blossom in droves, creating a hunger that could no longer be satiated until competitors were incarcerated or left for dead.
Fortunately for him, the cherry petal fiasco was a dilemma before his becoming a Croll, and therefor in essence a time prior to his years as Roxanna's understudy. It'd dawned upon him when he'd heard of the tale that he might never experience the pseudo-miracles that were said to undertake in the beakers that fancied a faint pink glow, not since the circle's higher-ups banned all such substances with crimes involving heresy and murder.
Needless to say, what the present reflects was a society much more tame and yet still fantastical - perhaps even more. The limits of his alchemical research changed once the circumstances of the game shifted and Oswald Croll was a now a foreigner in a strange, yet wonderful world. Earthland spawned many a great opportunity to further his studies, and alongside that was the possibility of refining his potions by a magnitude previously thought to be impossible. And for so long he tired of the work he put into building his home and apothecary, now the alchemist might actually realize a quarter of his goals.
The sooner, the better.
Though not all the perfect endeavors arose from menial work, as his teacher Roxanna would remind him, henceforth would Oz ready himself a journey to neighboring areas to further his compendium of ingredients with things both exotic and new, of bits and pieces that flourished underneath foreign suns, breathed different winds, and tasted ancient lands, left to be untouched by humanity. The thought provoked him so intensely that he'd managed to a plan the trip with a regard for timeslots and fully cycled routines. Such the itinerary was a schedule created with an intention to be followed. Nothing less of that. Still, it'd been his error to ignore the possible misgivings he'd encounter down the road less traveled. Not one of this scale, at least.
Today, he and Padpardscha were due for a trip deep into isolation, as an assurance perhaps of the rarity of the material, and Oswald's personal method to avoiding the majority of the population and the very thought of interaction itself. Somehow along the way however was a break in the train track and because his Homebound Key couldn't fair its job without proper exploration of an area, they were both left to their lonesomes in a city flocked by tourists. Already the day seemed dangerously close to becoming one that he'd regret.
"Honey, can we go see the Cherry Blossoms at the center of the town?"
"...You do know that the square itself is closed because of that, right?"
Or was it?
