A fortune to others [Open]
Sept 9, 2020 19:32:47 GMT
Post by Deleted on Sept 9, 2020 19:32:47 GMT
It was a normal night, a normal twilight of sorts.
The only normalcy was broken by a bright flash of green light, the sound of something settling firmly into the ground and the auspicious glow of mystical energy as a hut made out of bone, wood and various other smaller mediums came into existence just on the side of the road.
It looked like it had always been there, with how dusty and rustic it looked in some places. The hanging sheet of fur and bone over the doorway rustled a bit. A skulled head popping out to look around; looking unsurprised and uninterested in the area around them. It’d withdraw back into the hut just as a bit of smoke started to crawl out of the windows. It tinted somewhat green just like the billowing smoke out of it’s trio of holes in the roof. Set in such a way that rain would drip in for one purpose or another.
Inside of the hut, past the jingle of bones and gentle swaying of what seemed to be that of the mystical arts lay a figure who was tending to a large cauldron amidst a bunch of books, recipes and tables. Clawed hands tossed in a mushroom, some bone and other little pieces of spice. It was a simple brew, simple enough for her to make.
The gentle humming and sing songyness of her words wouldn’t be lost to many. They were bold and powerful but soft and sublime. They were mystical just in the same way that she was. Just like this hut that had appeared out of no where.
She’d hop down off of the table and move around the shelves, mumbling to herself all the while. Picking out various things off of the shelf to toss into the pot. It was turning from a healing brew to something else entirely. That or perhaps it’s purpose was the extent of the reason she was here.
”Mmm… Maybe some more mushrooms… Nay… dust of some bark perhaps?”
She’d continue picking through her shelves and various tables full of ingredients. The long mixing spoon was still well.. Mixing even if she wasn’t there. A simple incantation or twelve could make the difference no?
Even as the twilight gave to dawn; the shack remained. But the green tainted air that remained would smell of many things. Love lost, hatred abound, perhaps even bringing those that needed something to her humble abode or kept away those that were just a tad too wild...
The only normalcy was broken by a bright flash of green light, the sound of something settling firmly into the ground and the auspicious glow of mystical energy as a hut made out of bone, wood and various other smaller mediums came into existence just on the side of the road.
It looked like it had always been there, with how dusty and rustic it looked in some places. The hanging sheet of fur and bone over the doorway rustled a bit. A skulled head popping out to look around; looking unsurprised and uninterested in the area around them. It’d withdraw back into the hut just as a bit of smoke started to crawl out of the windows. It tinted somewhat green just like the billowing smoke out of it’s trio of holes in the roof. Set in such a way that rain would drip in for one purpose or another.
Inside of the hut, past the jingle of bones and gentle swaying of what seemed to be that of the mystical arts lay a figure who was tending to a large cauldron amidst a bunch of books, recipes and tables. Clawed hands tossed in a mushroom, some bone and other little pieces of spice. It was a simple brew, simple enough for her to make.
The gentle humming and sing songyness of her words wouldn’t be lost to many. They were bold and powerful but soft and sublime. They were mystical just in the same way that she was. Just like this hut that had appeared out of no where.
She’d hop down off of the table and move around the shelves, mumbling to herself all the while. Picking out various things off of the shelf to toss into the pot. It was turning from a healing brew to something else entirely. That or perhaps it’s purpose was the extent of the reason she was here.
”Mmm… Maybe some more mushrooms… Nay… dust of some bark perhaps?”
She’d continue picking through her shelves and various tables full of ingredients. The long mixing spoon was still well.. Mixing even if she wasn’t there. A simple incantation or twelve could make the difference no?
Even as the twilight gave to dawn; the shack remained. But the green tainted air that remained would smell of many things. Love lost, hatred abound, perhaps even bringing those that needed something to her humble abode or kept away those that were just a tad too wild...