Meme: Myth and Magic Sentence Starters
Status: Open
URL: @oracuelum
He’s used to sticking out like a sore thumb as they say. Above average in height, red hair, fucked up face and mixed matched eyes. He’s used to people taking notice. People making comment. But what he perhaps isn’t used to at all is the latter piece of her question. At least in the way she chose to word it. The way her voice drops by degrees despite the lack of anyone else being in the shop currently. The wards he can taste on the air, that allowed him passage through the door only because he held no intent to harm. And the very eyes that apparently led to her inquiry…narrow just so much at the woman behind the counter.
Curiosity peek in ways it hasn’t been in a while. Because the scent of her is…unique. Earthy. Floral. And yet there is something along the edges of her that reminds him of harsh winters. Like a spring flower that managed to survive a rogue spring frost. The flicker flash of another form, like a shadow before it is gone like dust in the wind. And the immortal is far more alert than he had been moments before. Because there is something…ancient to the woman. Something that tastes like the old days on his tongue. The idea of her just another modern witch set aside for the time being, as he does what he can to both answer her question and prove he is not the only one so proverbially easy to read.
“Bout as much as ye be, lass.”
And there’s a catch to the marred corner of his lips. A glance down at the counter between them before his gaze tracks away. The shelves of herbs glanced over. He isn’t really here for any however what he is here–well it isn’t an item one simply blurts out questions over. Not unless you’re aiming for trouble from the start anyway.
“Be lookin’ for o’few d’ings….”
“Were bein’ told ye moi’ght be able ta help me procure, aye?”
