charcoal dreams and a fashion sense to match | @13xdami
it’s true what they say-- evil women do very much look amazing in black.
kana stands on the edge of the hallowed ground, her clothes a tight charcoal, feeling the prayers of sadness, the silent pleas, the darkened frustration from those left still alive on the earth, the faint echo of yearning from those already buried and dead below the dirt, watching a long, heavy casket sink down into the hole cut from the grass. she stares and remembers the woman it once was, fierce surely, protective certainly, zealous perhaps depending on who you spoke to and about what. regardless of kana’s own beliefs and how they may have clashed with mrs. lee, she could not deny the prestige and strength the woman had held, the power she wielded. not could she begrudge her protection-- kana can’t exactly proclaim herself innocent or entirely trustworthy. her attempts to be ivory-spun only work maybe half the time.
as it is however, the woman is now dead and her charge, the girl kana is more interested in speaking with, has been left more unguarded than she’s ever been before. kana had approached and been rudely turned aside by mrs. lee and her sister some time ago, after finding the energies of a runic witch in their relation, a girl with a gift quite unique even amongst sorcerers, an intensely powerful ability if utilized and controlled properly by its bearer. kana wishes she could swear her interest in the younger witch to be purely innocent and in everyone’s best interest, but oaths like that always stick in her throat, even on the best of days, glue and gum closing her lips, her history and past endeavors knotting in her shadow with every new step.
still. she knows her window is short, knows the time is strained, knows nothing is a good moment, nowhere is there a better, more decent day to approach the girl, to lay out her case, to bear her intentions and let the witchling choose for herself. surely the girl’s mother will be along shortly, with all her fire and protection also. kana can’t waste any time.
she allows the service to finish however, giving in to that courtesy a least, before striding pointedly towards who she has seen in her mirrors and crystals, who she has come to understand is the deceased’s niece. “lee dami?” the name tumbles from her lips as she aches to catch her attention, her coat ruffling slightly in the autumn breeze. the world is growing colder, darker. “i’m so sorry for your loss, and i regret disturbing you, but i’m hoping to speak with you for a moment, if that’s alright?”