Mithra

❝ Sometimes I forget you're a weak human ❞.

His gaze is calm on Akira's trembling form, but his reaction is immediate. Raising it, Mithra makes an outward circular motion with his free arm. His is a light and casual gesture, elegantly stitching a cloak around the two bodies—through the magical barrier, the extreme cold remains visible, but at the same time becomes imperceptible.

The North Country possesses a rare and unspoiled beauty; the skies are free to show off their natural magnificence, and the land's stillness comes from a belief in its indomitable power.

❝ Stay close to me, okay? ❞ Mithra commands, ruffling the Sage's hair; it almost seems like a gesture of affection or tenderness, which however contrasts with the coldness and carelessness in his glassy eyes. The truth is that the redhead might be quite distracted, but, with him around, Akira will never have to fear for his life.

"P-please don't forget something like that..." still, it's incredible each and every time. Walking atop of snow while the temperature around them more so was reminiscent of a warm spring day, tempting them to reach out and see where the comfort ended and the rigid cold began (they don't do it this time, even though there were many times before when they had moved around with that in mind). "Yes—wah!" the bright smile turning downwards upon the weight of his hand and their hands moving up to fix their bangs once Mithra was done. It's comforting, and makes them feel closer, and so there's no desire to ask him to stop. In the past they had been wary of him due to written words, now, however, Akira would trust him with just about anything.

"It's so beautiful here... When it snows like this it kind of looks like a snow globe..." snowflakes gently falling and disappearing when arriving at the lake's surface, as if entering a secret portal of wonders. A solemn and lonely name and purpose, yet knowing how dear this place was to Mithra, they couldn't help but watch upon it with warmth. "Thank you for inviting me, Mithra. Are you feeling better?"

❝ Hmm… ❞, a groan that sounds like a whim. Mithra lowers himself onto his heels, resting his elbows on his knees. The snow sparkles like sugar under the diamonds of the firmament, while the lake extends beyond the visual range. The ever-changing and timeless beauty of winter nature bypasses human understanding, on par with a divine masterpiece or magic itself. The red one is silent while observing the natural mirror, which is too tired to rock his image. On the contrary, the man's irises catch the smallest tremor of the lake, which disperses its quiet and powerful breath into the extreme air. And who knows if even that boat, far away in time, sways now in the pair of emerald-colored eyes.

The ❛ Lake of Death ❜, unique and appropriate parent of an intimidating wizard and lonely man. Because, if you think about it, between freedom and solitude exists a thin and fragile barrier, easily invisible or confused; one can stand on one side, on the other, or one can walk in a desolate intersection, consciously or unconsciously. And Mithra does both things—conscious, he has always chosen his way of living, unconscious, instead, of the added value embodied by each living creature. He has never felt the simple and natural beauty of an exchange of views and thought, or even more that of an affective bond. Why should he have troubled himself with something like that? He can do what he wants, selfishly, coldly, without useless feelings to bind him mentally and practically. He has always surrounded himself exclusively with his power and his pride, breaking however the boredom with the only amusement of violent and sanguinary interactions.

❝ You are in my Mana Area. At night, the lake becomes for me the ideal place where to recharge energies. But I did not bring you here for this ❞.

#mhyk rp

❝ ... ❞

SEMI-HIATUS.* MITHRA WILL WITHDRAW INDEFINITELY TO HIS MANA AREA TO RECHARGE HIS ENERGY, BUT WILL REMAIN AVAILABLE IN THE PRIVATE MESSAGES AND FOR SHORT ASKS. PLEASE, DON'T MISS HIM TOO MUCH. 💀

THIS IS A WRITING BLOG, AND EVERY VISITOR IS WELCOME. 💐 HOWEVER❗️, I DO NOT AUTHORIZE THE USE OF MY WRITING TO TRAIN ARTIFICIAL INTELLIGENCE. ANY FORM OF PLAGIARISM IS ALSO PROHIBITED. PLEASE LIKE THIS POST TO CONFIRM YOU HAVE READ IT.

#guidelines

❝ I don’t need some kind of babysitter ❞, he replies bringing his free hand to his hair. His could be a normal gesture, but, given his state, also a vain and almost unconscious attempt to contain his headache.

❝ If you're looking for some fun, I'll tell you where I am. Although it's not exactly a place for good guys ❞. Indeed, Mithra is digesting his hangover in a badly frequented club; practically a hangout for young delinquents. And it's certainly not to protect Cain that the most unruly boy at Vollmond Private Academy used those words. For his lawless mind, ❛ good ❜ is synonymous with ❛ kind ❜, and kindness is a limit that the weak impose on themselves.

If it’s ‘not exactly a place for good guys’, then that’s all the more reason to go get the other out of there. It could spell a lot of trouble for his modeling career if something happens. Instead of saying any of that out loud, though, he simply hummed.

“Not a place for good guys, huh? I’m flattered you think I’m a good guy, but I’m not exactly a saint. Even I drink sometimes.” Not a lie, but he definitely won’t be going there to drink. He was only phrasing it that way since it seemed like the other wasn’t willing to share his location unless he was coming over to have ‘fun’. “What’s the name of the place?”

#Your drawing moved something.#Renewed inspiration dictated the continuation of the piece.#Thanks pencil.

Mithra smiles amusedly, lazy energy of a drunk man. ❝ Then don't say I didn't warn you ❞. And while his voice carries that name to the other end of the phone, a slightly too heated argument is improvising in the distance. Just as if, in a last and desperate attempt, chance was trying to keep the virtuous Cain away from unnecessary and far from inevitable trouble. It is unclear whether the redhead realizes what is happening around him, or whether his ears and brain only perceive vague and indistinct sounds. In any case, it is not something that concerns him and that, therefore, could interest him. Furthermore, Mithra prefers to remain alone with his fuddle, which exacts to cradle him in its deranged arms. An intense and natural call, which forces his body to lie down in a disorderly manner on the sofa.

Beyond the peaceful sound of the gushing waters, beyond the dance of the flowers with the spring breeze, everything is silent in the blue-painted courtyard. The few artificial lights that still filter through from the rooms of the manor cannot compete with the seductive embrace of the usually imposing moon. Arms behind the backrest, legs crossed, Mithra just sits on the bench, silent and with his head thrown back. Indescribable the expression drawn on his face, because sufficiently hidden by the soft dark of the night hours. It's certain that the relaxed attitude of the body somehow clashes with the civil war just fought on the invisible and intangible field of consciousness. More than a rare rationality, his brazen and absolute love for himself had prevented him from irremediably attacking Chiretta's firstborn, a cruel victim of the soporific power of his own herbal preparation, and from consequently sabotaging his own magic.

The redhead's senses suddenly perceive a magical presence, while his voice leaves his lips straddling a tired and annoyed breath. ❝ What, can't you sleep either? ❞

WITH @1amsong

1amsong

" yeesh , i've been spotted so quick ! " in other scenarios , such as if mizuki were ever on the enemy team , this would be rather nerve-wracking and poorly planned ! she enjoys a good ambush , only if it followed with an equally good prank ; and really , if the person on the receiving end appreciated as much ( this excludes her companions , of course ) .

the young witch tries to avoid shying away , an attempt to put aside presumptions that she'd be pulverized on the spot by the northern wizards . it was a bit of a daunting task for those who were newly recruited , and mizuki guarantees that mithra can sniff out that fear as easily as he breathed the night's crisp air .

" honestly , i'm more of a night owl ... whenever the lovely sun is out , i feel drowsy 'n lazy ~ " her footsteps tap gently across neatly paved stones , although she doesn't invite herself to sit beside him - just in case he waves her away . " am i disturbing you ? i saw someone out in the courtyard , and figured maybe i could indulge in some company ... "

#Please make yourself comfortable *he pulls them up by the shoulders*.#It seems like you have nothing to apologize for.

❝ It's not like you interrupted anything ❞—he bows his torso slightly forward and bends an elbow on his knee; he rests his chin on the back of his hand, while he dedicates his weary gaze at the other human presence.

A smile slightly alters the still features of his face, while maintaining their refined sensuality. A little ironic and a little smug—currently Mithra might not find anything better than playing with the witch of the North, and, it is known, his ways of having fun are original and anything but innocent. However, Mizuki's attitude rather stimulates him to tacitly gloat in his ego, thus forging a shield for the girl. He senses, in fact, the fear of his interlocutor, like an animal that perceives the emotions of other specimens, or simply like a man with superior senses.

❝ Are you going to just stand there? ❞

❝ Was that supposed to put me to sleep? You're not trying hard enough. ❞

They really did try, though...! His hand firmly placed between theirs while their eyes were closed and eyebrows furrowed, distinctly focused on the task at hand. Please fall asleep, please fall asleep, please fall asleep, please fall asleep—a rhythmic chant in their mind that, well, didn't seem to help at all.

"Mm..." their eyes open again, hoping that they'd see at least one of the usual signs of Mithra falling asleep. "Do you...really not feel sleepy? Like, not even a little bit?" a fruitless question when he had just voiced his displeasure, but this time Akira had been sure it would work; yet here he was, still wide awake.

For a moment they let go of his hand, right, this wasn't the first time this had happened recently. Alongside Mithra's inability to sleep was Bradley's sudden disappearances, the daily high-fives with Cain and the ever looming fear of Shylock's heart becoming enveloped in flames. As well as the person who was supposed to be able to help them. There should be something more they could do, something that made it more consistent, something... "Alright!" their fingers wrap around his palm, concealing the frustration into determination. "Let me try one more time."

The door closes behind him and vanishes, as if it has been a mirage. Mithra moves a few steps, his hands in his pockets and his languid gait. The orange fingers of the setting sun dye fiery reflections among his locks, and, while the gold mirrors vainly itself in the necklaces, the warmth plays on his skin with the sensuality of a shy lover. But what brought him to the shelves of an unknown library? No, no one had told him about it. The truth is that Mithra is in the middle of a singular treasure hunt, only it doesn't look like anything you'd call ❛ game ❜, and the treasure is someone that the redhead has lost sight of. His spatial magic, undeniably convenient for rushing any research, hasn't the coordinates of this unexplored land, therefore his doors could look out anywhere. This isn't manor's library, but the books that populate it still exude enchantment. And Mithra sensed it immediately—in here, magic flies on paper wings and walks on a woman's legs. Right, she isn't a witch, but she possesses a power that couldn't belong to a normal human being, something that, in other words, makes her more similar to wizards than to ordinary mortals.

❝ Could you please refrain from introducing yourself with a question? ❞

elencholic

Folding the book within her hand shut, Suigetsu hums in thought, lips curving into a slightly amused smile. Despite the inconvenience, she'd be lying if she didn't admit that there was some part of her that was rather amused by these oddities within her daily life. With her head tilted slightly to the side, the other is addressed in a smooth tone of voice, unaffected by the attitude within his voice.

" Considering that it's my territory you've entered, I do believe I'll introduce myself as I'd like. "

Her eyes shut for a moment as she resides, moving to return the book to where it once took refuge upon mahogany shelves. Fingers trace down the spine briefly before slipping away, taking in the appearance of who stood before her. Bright, red hair, a color which she hadn't yet seen before... and the deep emerald eyes.. along with the notable scar along the neck. Amusement tinges her lightless visage for just a moment, fingers politely intertwining in front of her.

She'd be a fool to admit she doesn't notice the similarity in clothing to another who'd passed through, now curious as to whether or not they were born of the same world, or if this barging in on others was simply a custom in another part of existence that she remained yet unaware of... for now, rather than sating every curiosity, some things will go left unsaid.

" If you're looking for something, " she states, " or simply passing through, I don't mind assisting you... Only if you'd like, of course. "

#mhyk mithra #oc suigetsu ogawa #roleplay

His gaze devours her—in his glassy irises floats the abyss dug into Suigetsu's dark eyes, and that enigmatic and composed smile of her. She has no hostile heart, and in any case nothing that could worry a wizard of Mithra's caliber.

❝ Why not? If it will save me time, that's fine, I suppose ❞.

He flutter his eyelashes languidly, before traveling a tired and incomplete turn around woman's body; like an animal scrutinizing a new specimen or exploring the territory. ❝ You aren't a witch. Yet it's certain that you know how to cast a spell. Your power is closer to magical science, but it's not even about that ❞. He brings a few raven locks towards him, gently traveling them until they slip naturally from his long fingers. The sound of his footsteps echoes in the ample room, which is once again preparing to bid farewell to the sun for welcoming the moon, in a repetitive and endless cycle.

❝ Here magic must have different channels ❞.

❝ Huh? What are you talking about? ❞, he asks wearily. To commit someone or something with some advance would mean programming, and yet Mithra is rather an instinctive man, not inclined to plan projects but instead to follow his momentary whims. And his desire now is to visit the place where he grew up; it's not clear whether it's a pinch of nostalgia or some other factor to dictate this. After all, Mithra's mind is something that belongs only to him, and it could easily be that no reason in particular is influencing his actions. ❝ I want to go there now ❞.

《Arsim》

At his command, a door opens onto the silent landscape of the lake—confused with the night sky, the black and peaceful expanse of water swallows the moonlight, and the white paints the cold on a canvas of darkness. Mithra approaches Akira's back, takes him by the arm and moves a few steps forward, automatically pushing the Sage beyond the threshold.

Now?

Wait, like, right now, without any delay and without telling anyone? Before they could taste Nero's new delicious-sounding night-time bread...?! "Huh, wait, Mi—" but the door appears without any further discussion, and although the sight is as breathtaking as ever they lose their breath for another, more critical, reason; that's really, really cold! The rapidly lowering temperature in front of the door seals their faith, allowing him to drag them along and hear the door close behind them.

"M-m-mimi..." this time it's Akira who holds onto Mithra's arm, pleading for mercy onto the one who's jacket didn't hold a candle to the Northern chill even when the sun was glaring. Still...hadn't there been a while since they were here? While no stranger to the Northern Country anymore there rarely was repeat visits aside from the places that was important to their dear wizards, but even then... ...Was he homesick? If even for a tiny bit?

#❝What are you doing in that ridiculous position?❞#It would have been an appropriate alternative start.#Just as funny.

❝ Sometimes I forget you're a weak human ❞.

His gaze is calm on Akira's trembling form, but his reaction is immediate. Raising it, Mithra makes an outward circular motion with his free arm. His is a light and casual gesture, elegantly stitching a cloak around the two bodies—through the magical barrier, the extreme cold remains visible, but at the same time becomes imperceptible.

The North Country possesses a rare and unspoiled beauty; the skies are free to show off their natural magnificence, and the land's stillness comes from a belief in its indomitable power.

❝ Stay close to me, okay? ❞ Mithra commands, ruffling the Sage's hair; it almost seems like a gesture of affection or tenderness, which however contrasts with the coldness and carelessness in his glassy eyes. The truth is that the redhead might be quite distracted, but, with him around, Akira will never have to fear for his life.

elencholic

Sifting through the library, Suigetsu scans the shelves for something intriguing to read, warm streams of afternoon light filtering in from glass panels. The best part of the citadel was that the many previous Saniwas who had occupied it left behind a sizable gallery of books on a breadth of topics — from history to the modern world to fantasy. Something she's noticed, however, is the suspicious nature of some of these volumes. From time to time, opening a book greets her with a puff of smoke, a smattering of sparks, or the book itself disintegrating in her hands. In a way, the gamble became part of the fun.

It would seem the prior owners of this citadel were rather interesting people themselves. Her mind wanders, dancing on ideas of what the Saniwas before were like — though no information remains readily available, all of it scrubbed away with each replacement that took over.

As she pages through a book curiously, eyes skimming over musings on Kabuki and Noh theater, the language of masks and vocal calls pulls her mind in intrigue as she lowers herself into a seat, one not too far from the shelf. The room is silent, the sounds of the citadel closed away in the oft-abandoned sector of the building. Before she's able to allow herself to immerse completely within the pages, however, there's a soft sound akin to a door opening and shutting.

Gaze rises to observe the noise, finding herself staring in a moment of disbelief. While the strange arrivals to her location weren't anything too out of the ordinary these days, it was notably her first time seeing it happen. From nothing, a red-haired man steps in, her eyes blinking in surprise. Her expression is quick to cool, a soft sigh slipping past her lips.

" ... Another one ... ? " The words come out with a hint of exhaustion, slowly shutting the book in her lap. " Pray tell, how is it that you've ended up here? "

@mithra-del-nord liked for a starter ♥

#So let yourself be surprised by the magic of an unpredictable man.

The door closes behind him and vanishes, as if it has been a mirage. Mithra moves a few steps, his hands in his pockets and his languid gait. The orange fingers of the setting sun dye fiery reflections among his locks, and, while the gold mirrors vainly itself in the necklaces, the warmth plays on his skin with the sensuality of a shy lover. But what brought him to the shelves of an unknown library? No, no one had told him about it. The truth is that Mithra is in the middle of a singular treasure hunt, only it doesn't look like anything you'd call ❛ game ❜, and the treasure is someone that the redhead has lost sight of. His spatial magic, undeniably convenient for rushing any research, hasn't the coordinates of this unexplored land, therefore his doors could look out anywhere. This isn't manor's library, but the books that populate it still exude enchantment. And Mithra sensed it immediately—in here, magic flies on paper wings and walks on a woman's legs. Right, she isn't a witch, but she possesses a power that couldn't belong to a normal human being, something that, in other words, makes her more similar to wizards than to ordinary mortals.

❝ Could you please refrain from introducing yourself with a question? ❞

++++

MEME GAME.

TEST PASSED. COMPLICITY LEVEL GROWING.

#𝚚𝚞𝚒𝚌𝚔 𝚊𝚜𝚔

i have a lot of fun interacting with you both in character & out of character !! i think your writing is a lot of fun to read & interact with (both the 1st person & 3rd person point of view) && i think of all of our threads fondly,,,,,,,and I wanna get back into better writing habits Because there's so many of our interactions that I think are a lot of fun, so I can respond faster,,,,,,,,, heart emoji

MEME GAME.

IT'S YOUR FAULT IF RIGHT NOW MY SOUL IS ARGUING WITH MY CLARITY TO MANIFEST ITS SOFT SIDE. WHY ARE YOU SO ADORABLE?

#𝚊𝚜𝚔

PLEASE SEND THE NUMBER OF SYMBOLS CORRESPONDING TO THE REASON YOU ARE/WOULD WRITE TO ME. YOU CAN ALSO CHOOSE MULTIPLE ANSWERS AND USE ANONYMITY.

+ YOU FIND MY WRITING INTERESTING; ++ YOU WANT TO INTERACT WITH THE WRITER; +++ YOU WANT TO INTERACT WITH MY CHARACTER; ++++ YOU ENJOY OUR INTERACTIONS; +++++ WE ARE MUTUAL; ++++++ OTHER (SPECIFY IF YOU WANT).

#mahoutsukai no yakusoku #promise of wizard #mahoyaku #mhyk #mhyk mithra #mhyk rp #meme game

@mithra-del-nord / CONTINUATION.

“Of course I would care. I consider you a friend, and I look up to you as a model, you know? I can’t just sit back and let something bad happen to you,” he answered, walking down the stairs of his apartment complex. It was pretty cold outside. As much as he’d rather go warm up with a hot bath, he can’t do that until he makes sure Mithra wasn’t out and about in his drunk state.

“So? Where are you right now? Can you share your location with me?” With a hand on his hip, he warily waited for the other to answer. Depending on the location, he might have to take a Taxi there. “Or do you have someone else coming to pick you up?”

#Out of the blue.#Do you design your own icons?#My concentration is pleasantly disturbed by a large four-legged puppy.#But I still remember good manners and I will compliment you on your art.

❝ I don’t need some kind of babysitter ❞, he replies bringing his free hand to his hair. His could be a normal gesture, but, given his state, also a vain and almost unconscious attempt to contain his headache.

❝ If you're looking for some fun, I'll tell you where I am. Although it's not exactly a place for good guys ❞. Indeed, Mithra is digesting his hangover in a badly frequented club; practically a hangout for young delinquents. And it's certainly not to protect Cain that the most unruly boy at Vollmond Private Academy used those words. For his lawless mind, ❛ good ❜ is synonymous with ❛ kind ❜, and kindness is a limit that the weak impose on themselves.

FOR CAIN—DRUNK... REVERSE. 💀

FIRST TIMES

Looking at his ringing phone to see it was Mithra calling surprised him — especially since it was pretty late at night. He’d just gotten back from his part-time job after school, though, so he had no right to talk. “Hello?” he answered, putting the phone on speaker as he took off his shoes. “It’s rare to have you calling me, Mithra! Is there… huh?”

“…Wait a second, are you drunk??” It didn’t make much for him to guess, noticing the slight slur in the other’s voice right away. “You’re a model! You can’t drink carelessly like that, or someone might take advantage of that, you know?” He immediately put on the same shoes he had just taken off, leaving his apartment as he held his phone to his ear. “I’ll come pick you up. Where are you right now?”

#Alcohol will release a brake.#Assuming the person has one.

❝ What do you care? ❞

The dizziness practically throws him onto a sofa, assailing his balance and his long legs. It was a coincidence that he called Cain, because, bullying a too clingy journalist, he would have dropped his cell phone in a glass full of alcohol; had he not been drunk enough to confuse the cell phone with his own, also on the counter before the bath among the ice cubes. And now Mithra was testing device's functioning by calling a random number.

❝ Worry? Absolutely not. I just didn't think it was appropriate to let you die there just now ❞—he responds with such a nonchalance that, if you didn't know its author, the sentence would fall as an unusual and unwanted offense.

A promise binds him to Chiretta's firstborn, but no duty, felt or induced, binds him to the Central Knight. After all, Mithra, you know, is devoted exclusively to himself, and certainly doesn't let altruism's pitiful fragility corrupt his coolness and his freedom. Although, since he has been living in the manor, he may have assimilated a pinch of tolerance. Is it credible? The famous and most feared beast of the North tamed—albeit to a contained extent—by a simple and all too honest human.

The other’s response earned a laugh from him. As ironic as it was, it honestly relieved him to know that Mithra wasn’t the type to worry about something like this.

“Haha, that’s very like you. Well, thank you for your generosity, then.” The color was slowly returning to his face, but it was still too soon for him to try getting up — which, he was already trying to do. Even when he used his sword to help get himself up on his feet, he still looked like a newborn deer making an unsteady effort to stand up.

“I have to say, your sugar is pretty powerful, Mithra. All the nausea disappeared just like that.” The way he looked right now might not be so convincing, but his magic reserves had been completely zeroed out earlier, so this was actually a huge improvement from his near-unconscious state. “Are you heading back to the manor, now?”

#mahoutsukai no yakusoku #promise of wizard #mahoyaku #mhyk #mhyk mithra #cain knightley #roleplay

❝ No. ❞

Was it sleep or boredom that was harassing him? Or was it perhaps both? The fact is that Mithra had turned his back on the overbearing enthusiasms of collective life for a solitary nap somewhere in the wild nature. If nothing else, perhaps he would have succeeded not in turning off but in resting his whole body; and, if nothing else, he hadn’t responded to frustration with a hollow and senseless destructive spirit. He was simply looking for a quiet place to defeat insomnia, although, not only had his search so far not culminated with pleasant results, but he also did not hope for any new and interesting discovery. And who knows, maybe the glow of that distant clash had saved, yes, the Central wizard, but, reaching Mithra's line of sight, it also suggested to the redhead the longed-for place. He has tried so many that he couldn't remember if this one passed by that unusual and desperate list; what is certain, however, is that it is located far from the city frenzy. And what does it matter if from time to time some magical beast might appear out of nowhere? In any case, it would bump into the most ferocious predator of all.