- Posting Speed
- One post per day
- 1-3 posts per week
- Slow As Molasses
- Online Availability
- Inconsistent times, but I try to check in daily if not at the very least once a week!
- Writing Levels
- Adaptable
- Preferred Character Gender
- No Preferences
- Genres
- Still feeling this out! Romance, horror, fantasy
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Hushed words echoed against the stone walls, just barely heard above the dripping of water onto the stone floor. Delicate fingers wrapped around the handle of a ceremonial dagger. The woman shook lightly in the dim light. Moonlight shone on the bare skin of her nape, glistening with sweat.✦
When the echoing chants stopped, she squeezed her eyes closed as she pressed the sharpened blade into her open palm. Viscous, heme-red rivulets flowed from the wound, adding to the drip, a disruption to the rhythm of the droplets on stone. An elder stood from the small congregation encircling her, taking her bleeding hand and pressing it to an open page of a black, leather-bound book. The scrawl of sigils screamed with heat, before projecting a new symbol on the woman's hand that lingered for a long moment after she had snatched it away. A word flashed across her mind, voiceless: Familiar.
The process of binding a familiar had finally begun. Francine wondered what hers would be. Something small and cute? Like a cat? It would be preferable, so as not to alert her roommate to the reality that she was living with a magic-handler. However carefully magic was practiced under the roof of their apartment, the signs were there if one were to look hard enough. Cuts that always healed a little too fast, coffee that tasted fresh no matter how long it sat in the pot. The cuts weren't that deep. The beans were just high quality. Nothing to raise an eyebrow over.
Francine turned the key to the apartment and opened the door slowly, so as not to disturb her roommate. Hair was still plastered to the sides of her face from the nerves and the blood loss. She'd have to hide the gash on her hand for the next few days. After the excess of magic she had used in the ritual just moments prior, she wouldn't be able to cast a healing spell on it anytime soon. That, and she didn't want to worry her roommate. She put her bag on the kitchen counter and headed to the fridge. It was late, a few minutes past 2 AM, but that wasn't going to stop her from baking muffins to calm her nerves.
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