“THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS A COINCIDENCE- YOUR THOUGHTS CREATE YOUR REALITY. BUT YOU ALREADY KNEW THAT. YET, YOU STILL LIVE A LIFE THAT YOU DREAD. THAT IS BECAUSE, WHEN YOU VISUALIZE YOUR DREAM LIFE, YOU UNCONSCIOUSLY BELIEVE THAT IT IS UNREALISTIC- BUT IT IS NOT,”
♢ Echoing through the mind of the raven-haired potion crafter as she would slowly make her way up the mountain-trail within a thick snowstorm, a deep voice would lecture her telepathically about the way to live a life of prosperity- it would speak of coincidence and manifestation, something Angel felt like she would hear her companion speak of more and more with each passing day. In her hands would sit a large humanoid skull draped in a flowing silk cloth. The body of the entity that would speak to the girl within the stillness of her mind, his voice and true form would remain tucked away for the world to never be able to see. It was better that way, not just for the little alchemist but for anyone that was to run into her upon her adventures. Allowing the fragile thoughts of just what the dark voice would ramble on about, she would begin to look down at her black stockings and platform boots as they would sink through the snow that lined the edge of the mountain, the sound of wooden wheels treading through the white-colored mush drowning out any deep breaths she would take in the cold. Behind the gothic girl would roll a large traveling cart covered in plant life on all sides, which would be detailed with stained glass windows of purple and olive colors- inside one would be able to sneak a glimpse of a loft bed over a bunch of different pots of plants and potion brewing stands, staying surprisingly in place for the terrain they would tread across. Her fingers would rub against the cloaked forehead of the skull as she would keep her eyes on the path, looking out for her surroundings.
“That’s.. easy for you to say, being how many lives you- you’ve said you’ve lived before,” the girl of violet eyes would softly speak as she would pull her fluffy black cardigan up around her shoulders, walking beside the traveling cart that would appear to be pulled by nothingness, “if I’m being honest, I.. I’m surprised I never thought of, well.. looking for a guild to join before- I guess I just let m- my lack of magic make it seem like it wasn’t for me..”
“YOUR MAGIC IS IN YOUR MIND, MY DEAR- IT’S IN THE POTIONS YOU’VE ALWAYS HAD A KNACK FOR, AND YOUR DESIRE TO HAVE POTENTIAL. AND, YOU’RE NEVER ALONE WHEN YOU HAVE ME~,” the deep voice would speak deeply yet endearingly, a faint purple glow from the bottom of the covering peeking out before fading once more. It was the voice that led the potionmaker to make the trek up these mountain ranges- she had never been in a mage guild before, not even before that terrible incident that happened so long ago. Hopefully today that would change; she would seem to be seeking out the domain of Silver Wolf, those that were deemed as treasure hunters and gatherers of magical artifacts. Though she did not have prior experience in these fields, curiosity caused the feeling of black moths to flutter around her chilly stomach. Perhaps she would be able to provide assistance to their causes some other way or another- she was desperate to jazz up her life from wandering around in an attempt to sell the potions and other remedies that she would create. Angel wanted to feel even more of a change than the change her life took months before her journey into the mountains, but this time, she wanted the change to be something good. Something that would free her from the grasp that was the dread of becoming stagnant, even as a wanderer.
Pulling her black beret up to the top of her head, the strands of her black hair that would flutter throughout the mountainous winds would appear to stay a bit stiller than usual, the green highlights on the tips the only vibrance within her black attire. Her eyes would be unable to find a building in the endless expanse of snow and frosted trees- hopefully she was close to her destination, her legs were so tired.. and she was so cold. It was so cold.
wc: 746
♢ Echoing through the mind of the raven-haired potion crafter as she would slowly make her way up the mountain-trail within a thick snowstorm, a deep voice would lecture her telepathically about the way to live a life of prosperity- it would speak of coincidence and manifestation, something Angel felt like she would hear her companion speak of more and more with each passing day. In her hands would sit a large humanoid skull draped in a flowing silk cloth. The body of the entity that would speak to the girl within the stillness of her mind, his voice and true form would remain tucked away for the world to never be able to see. It was better that way, not just for the little alchemist but for anyone that was to run into her upon her adventures. Allowing the fragile thoughts of just what the dark voice would ramble on about, she would begin to look down at her black stockings and platform boots as they would sink through the snow that lined the edge of the mountain, the sound of wooden wheels treading through the white-colored mush drowning out any deep breaths she would take in the cold. Behind the gothic girl would roll a large traveling cart covered in plant life on all sides, which would be detailed with stained glass windows of purple and olive colors- inside one would be able to sneak a glimpse of a loft bed over a bunch of different pots of plants and potion brewing stands, staying surprisingly in place for the terrain they would tread across. Her fingers would rub against the cloaked forehead of the skull as she would keep her eyes on the path, looking out for her surroundings.
“That’s.. easy for you to say, being how many lives you- you’ve said you’ve lived before,” the girl of violet eyes would softly speak as she would pull her fluffy black cardigan up around her shoulders, walking beside the traveling cart that would appear to be pulled by nothingness, “if I’m being honest, I.. I’m surprised I never thought of, well.. looking for a guild to join before- I guess I just let m- my lack of magic make it seem like it wasn’t for me..”
“YOUR MAGIC IS IN YOUR MIND, MY DEAR- IT’S IN THE POTIONS YOU’VE ALWAYS HAD A KNACK FOR, AND YOUR DESIRE TO HAVE POTENTIAL. AND, YOU’RE NEVER ALONE WHEN YOU HAVE ME~,” the deep voice would speak deeply yet endearingly, a faint purple glow from the bottom of the covering peeking out before fading once more. It was the voice that led the potionmaker to make the trek up these mountain ranges- she had never been in a mage guild before, not even before that terrible incident that happened so long ago. Hopefully today that would change; she would seem to be seeking out the domain of Silver Wolf, those that were deemed as treasure hunters and gatherers of magical artifacts. Though she did not have prior experience in these fields, curiosity caused the feeling of black moths to flutter around her chilly stomach. Perhaps she would be able to provide assistance to their causes some other way or another- she was desperate to jazz up her life from wandering around in an attempt to sell the potions and other remedies that she would create. Angel wanted to feel even more of a change than the change her life took months before her journey into the mountains, but this time, she wanted the change to be something good. Something that would free her from the grasp that was the dread of becoming stagnant, even as a wanderer.
Pulling her black beret up to the top of her head, the strands of her black hair that would flutter throughout the mountainous winds would appear to stay a bit stiller than usual, the green highlights on the tips the only vibrance within her black attire. Her eyes would be unable to find a building in the endless expanse of snow and frosted trees- hopefully she was close to her destination, her legs were so tired.. and she was so cold. It was so cold.
wc: 746
Last edited by angel on 26th July 2021, 9:52 am; edited 1 time in total