@lemarchands-lament | sent: The box has come into Kira's possession. Her unique expertise affords her easy recognition: it is a puzzle of some kind. Through her travels, has she gathered together what little crumbs of knowledge of this machination exist in this realm? Regardless of the answer, the box remains, glimmering and gold, unopened. Will temptation overtake her?
Kira has encountered all kinds of relics in her life. The sword of Zerachiel. The blade of Verchiel. Cursed diamonds, time looping watches, grimoires. Never a puzzle box. She bought it as a gift, but it’s looming aura gave cause to further inspect with pointed scarlet eyes. This is not the sort with a message inside, nor a most complicated jewelry box. This is a conduit. So says their expert in Los Angeles. There’s no Fedexing this sort of thing. She’d have to make the drive, but as daylight comes fast, all they can think about is sleep. She doesn’t remember picking out a gown, but at the stroke of three she stirs awake wearing white, hair long in dense curls, the white locks in her hair bleeding into more strands of starlight. She reaches for her phone, and her hand lands on the box… She left it in the fridge with her Amex and here it was, warm under her palm. We were never a creature to abstain, only every facing a threat head on. Whatever the box would summon, it meant death, ugly and brutal. In another time, Kira would've worked up the strength to send it to someone else. Surely you can think of someone who deserved to die?
Kira retrieves an ice pick of a dagger from under her pillow to rest beside her as she sits up. Each sigil of a pact resides in a circle for a reason. The uroboros consumes without end, sealing its own fate. She traces it, turning it over to watch it rise into two parts. Without much hesitation, she rotates it and pushes it into place, like a key into a lock.