[hr][hr][center][h1][color=c0fff4]Eudora Esmeralda Erebus [/color][/h1][/center][center][img][/img][/center] [hr][center][color=c0fff4][b]Location: Hut → Altsoba[/b][/color] [color=c0fff4][b]Interacting With: No one[/b][/color][/center][hr][hr] Weary grumbles floated in the air along with the smoky air that hung around in the forest. A fine mist blended with the white smoke that billowed from a rotten hut, veiling everything in this icy, grey peracense. “I feel it coming, man..” The shrunken head groaned as it was hung on the brass, and rusted doorknob to the home. [color=c0fff4]”Shut yer’ trap, devil woman.”[/color] The hunched crone spat at the disgusted sneer of the shriveled head. [color=c0fff4]”You been saying that for the past week, and what happens? Nothin’. Now be quiet before I throw you out for the dogs.”[/color] The witch, hunched, wrinkly, and draped in drags stood over the soot-blackened cauldron. Muttering catnips into the stinking stew as her thundercloud like hair hung at her shoulders. The thickened skin of her hands grasping the ladle, which was more splinter than wood at this point was stirring the poisonous concoction within she called “dinner.” “I’m just trying to help you, Eudora, when will you listen?” The head mumbled thoughtfully, but her words fell on deaf ears. “Oh it’s definitely coming, just you wait…” Eudora waved off the head of the voodoo queen. All the years cooped up in her own hut breathing in wood smoke and potions surely has made the head mad. The last time Eudora felt any magic stirring near that town was when a demon attacked. Probably some knucklehead goth kids wanting to mess with demons. [i]”Good”[/i], Eudora thought to herself, [i]”One less idiot in the world.”[/i] Eudora’s life has been monotonous to the max lately, she no longer can tell the passage of time as she silently sits mending her worn clothes or staring into the mist trying to do a bit of divination. Sometimes minutes go by, sometimes days. Most people would’ve gone mad at this point, but Eudora was actually pretty content. All her memories were meshed together in an unholy mess of light and sound, she didn’t bother deciphering them. Eudora would much prefer watching go life by peacefully then torture herself trying to remember what happened all those years ago. Nowadays, all she’d do was stir a pot and scold the shrunken head. Everyday she felt a bit more of magic disappearing for good, everyone was growing more and more blind to the magical and fantastical world around them. Eudora didn’t want to return to a place like that. All that was left for her to do now was lock herself up in her rotten down cottage, occasionally moving from forest to forest. Eudora felt as if only nature could truly understand her. Even the newborn fauna she’d she scampering around knew of the invisible wonders that humans, with all their supposed intellect, couldn’t see. So she’d talk. Talk to the trees that bore her her fruit. Or to the animals that would occasionally pass her home, or even her dead cat Coal. Elders tend to enjoy talking your ears off. None of the life around her would answer her back, save for that bastard head, but they always understood. Eudora just knew they did. In short, Eudora was content. She was content when she woke up this morning, and she was content as she flipped through her cookbook- Eudora snapped up right, an involuntary grin spread on her face, revealing her yellowing teeth. “I told you. I told you!” the head whined with joy, but Eudora didn’t pay attention. She stood there, motionless and blinking. A wave of calm spread through her as she immediately let go of her ladle. The handle seeping below the thick liquid as she hurried out. “Where ya’ going, man?” the head shouted after Eudora before the door slammed after her with a mystical crack of Eudora’s wrist. The hunched back of the witch hobbled over to town, a sense of purpose spreading through her as she exclaimed happily. [color=c0fff4]”I found it!”[/color] [hr][hr][center][h1][color=7fbf40]Sylvia Strange[/color][/h1][/center][center][img]http://static.tumblr.com/7b0pnmu/owLm8dvhr/tumblr_lz3tmeimnm1qiuxkv.gif[/img][/center] [hr][center][color=7fbf40][b]Location:Grant Road[/b][/color] [color=7fbf40][b]Interacting With: Police[/b][/color][/center][hr][hr] The wind howled past Sylvia’s ears as faint rumble echoed through the empty streets. The night had been surprisingly warm and the moon shone full in the inky sky. Sylvia couldn’t help but to feel giddy as she strolled down Grant road. The boy would most likely be a little confused, scared perhaps, as to why a voodoo priestess is visiting him at this time of night. But witches always dealt with the strange, she doubt the Prophet would be that shocked. She neared the Prophet's home, the stench of sulphur no longer wafted about the area, only a warm force that spread through the town. It felt almost pleasant. So, with hands in her pockets and whistling a tune, she walked on. And stopped. She sniffed the air, smoke. Perhaps that warm feeling wasn’t just a coincidence. Sylvia quickened her steps, the smell, no [i]stench[/i], of burnt wood filled the air and surrounded a particular home. [i]Fire! Shit.[/i] Sylvia fished out her phone, fingers flying over digits and it rang. The fire must’ve been going for a while, she saw no cause or survivors. Just a gaping black void of soot where a doorway once stood.