13kana

[13kana]

10 Folk Beliefs About Samhain/Halloween

By Tess Whitehurst - October 31st is not just Halloween. It’s also Samhain: an ancient sabbat and powerful point on the wheel of the year.

Divinatory and protective practices connected with this time abound, as does lore about the realm of the dead and the realm of the Fae.

Here are 10 such beliefs:

Spirits and fairies walk among us - At Samhain, the veil between the worlds lifts, which means all usually unseen creatures are free to dwell in our human realm.

Dressing up like an animal or a fearsome creature may trick the fairies into not kidnapping you - If you would prefer not to be kidnapped by a fairy, this gives you one more reason to dress up for Halloween.

Jack-O-Lanterns help guide lost spirits to the light - No matter what vegetable was employed to create Jack-O-Lanterns (they were originally made from things like turnips and beets), their flickering light was said to guide trapped or gloomy spirits into a brighter and happier realm.

A bonfire will protect you from unfriendly fairies and ghosts - As such, many ancient peoples in the British Isles lit a bonfire in the center of town, at the edges of crops, and near their homes.

Thoroughly cleaning and tidying your home will help welcome in beloved deceased ancestors and friends - Burn some sweetgrass and copal incense afterwards for extra magical power.

Two sticks of rowan tied together to form an equal-armed cross will protect you from fairies - Red thread is apparently the best thing with which to tie them.

A bat in your house means a ghost got in - On Samhain, a bat in the house means at least one ghost is probably in there too.

Two nuts, thrown in a fire, can provide romantic insight - First, name the nuts after yourself and your partner. Then throw them in the Samhain fire. If they burn brightly, expect a happy relationship. If they don’t ignite, it’s a sign of future unhappiness. Or if they jump apart, separation (or at least acrimony) may be in your future.

A pair of shoes over a house on Samhain will reveal future travel plans - In short, you’ll know by the direction the toes are pointing.

Seeing a spider on Samhain means you have a loyal ally in the realm of the dead. Whether it’s a friend, a close family member, or a more ancient ancestor, seeing a spider is a message that someone on the other side is looking out for you.

For more fun traditions and beliefs, check out Samhain: Rituals Recipes, & Lore for Halloween. 

[Tess Whitehurst]

#happy halloween!

[13kana]

“Have you ever wanted to bring someone back from the dead?”

the question stops her cold, her fingers frozen midway on their journey, the teacup paused in the still air between the sauser and her lips, as every muscle in her body tenses and flares like lightning snapping through her veins and even her breath is caught, not in a gasp, but in a suddenly shut off space. her throat closes, her lungs tremble, her heart skips a beat and then thrashes about wildly in her chest, an angry, untamable bird locked in a cage made from ribs, the lines and tendons in her neck and shoulders working to retain her facade of calm. her hands shake minutely and she attempts to hide that by sipping her drink quickly and setting everything down before she breaks them.

there is plenty of information floating about in the world around takeda kana’s atmosphere, plenty of rumors and speculation, plenty of wash-worn facts, skewed from reality, hauntingly bare and raw and unfinished, multiple accounts of her history that are all true and all false at the same time. perhaps her familiar has done research on kana, perhaps momo has read tabloids or obituaries, perhaps the young fox has seen the faces of kana’s old coven members, her late husband, her dead child… but she doesn’t know the truth. no one does. it’s a mantra kana repeats over and over and over in her head until she believes it again, like the mortar to a wall she constantly has to build and rebuild and rebuild.

the cries of her toddler son as he reaches for her, his body solidifying into stone. the grotesque anguish on the faces of her coven as they curse her in japanese, even as their bones fold in and crush against the grassy earth. her husband’s body twitching as the authorities reel him away on an ambulance stretcher.

no one knows. momo can’t possibly know the truth, hidden in the darkest pieces of kana’s shadow, chained so tightly to her ankles it cuts the circulation sometimes.

a long, drawn moment drags between them as the high priestess inhales deeply and forces herself to meet her familiar’s eyes, dark gaze deeper than the floor of the ocean, holding her secrets like barbed, electric treasure. “i would never wish that on anyone, my kitsune. to live is painful, to die is waking up. could you imagine being dragged back into the world, like being pulled underwater once more, after having reached the surface?” she shakes her head slowly. “death is something we must understand, as daughters of the craft, and there is nothing blacker than that sort of necromancy.”

at least, that’s the official answer she knows she must give. in her heart though, she remembers bleeding and screaming into the stone for hours on into the night, until she was haggard and crazed, begging the powers that be to bring her son back from its muted chambers.

#13xmomo #thanks for sending this im crying #OTL #| beware the broken girl ( i'll wear these curses around my neck like diamonds ) |

[13kana]

“This seems… dangerous.”

“nonsense, my love.” she smiles a toothy grin, a wicked grin, a grin that splits her face in two like a wolf, glinting in the faint, pale light from the moon high above, although that dims slightly in contrast to the much sharper gleam off the knife in her left hand. she holds herself still, on her knees in the grass, seulgi laying out horizontally before her, staring up at her with wide, skeptical eyes kana refuses to pay any heed to. “i’m the only one who needs to bleed for this and i assure you, i’ve bled much worse for much less.” she drops a wink down towards the young cat familiar, raising the blade high over her own head along with her other hand, as though calling down the stars, a prayer for the howling night, palms open and begging to receive an answer other than millenia-old supernova light.

she closes her eyes, her tone low and murmuring, the circle around the two of them spread out and stinking of rotted rabbit meat and mulch, the sounds of the surrounding forest cooing and chirping selectively. “night of the elder world, hear my blood, know my name.” she runs the knife across her palm deeply, scarlet oozing out and down her arm, dripping quickly into her own hair. “alight me with knowledge of a thousand burning suns.”

she pauses a moment, eyes peeking open to look down at the changeling in front of her knees once again, before she slowly leans over and begins to paint strange, mystical shapes across seulgi’s forehead in red.

#13xseulgi #| beware the broken girl ( i'll wear these curses around my neck like diamonds ) |

[13kana]

American Horror Story: Apocalypse // Chilling Adventures of Sabrina

#| hallowed ground ( i do this better than any god you've ever prayed to ) | #-files nails-

[13kana]

Dark Magic sentence starters

I received an anonymous ask requesting starters for necromancy, so I decided to expand upon that idea and create starters for dark magic in general, including necromancy. Enjoy!

“I’ve never used this spell before.” “Magic like this is forbidden, and for good reason.” “With this book of spells, we have the power to destroy everything.” “If this wasn’t dangerous, it wouldn’t be interesting.” “Have you ever wanted to bring someone back from the dead?” “I don’t care what it takes. I’m bringing them back!” “Be warned: what you’re going to see might terrify you.” “This seems… dangerous.” “One way or another, I’ll make them love me.” “You can’t just use magic to manipulate people like this!” “This isn’t right. It’s unnatural!” “This is the only true way to speak to the dead.” “If we do this spell correctly, we’ll own the world.” “Do you believe in demons?” “I’ll let you light the candles.” “This isn’t the first curse I’ve cast.” “This book of black magic is my little secret. Would you like to see?” “Be quiet or I’ll curse you next.” “They’ll regret the day they even thought to cross me.” “Nothing will hurt us if we stay inside this circle.” “They’ll be alive again, but not the same as they were before.” “No one ever said dark magic was easy.” “This spell couldn’t actually kill anyone, could it?” “The ritual begins soon. I suggest you prepare yourself.” “I’ve seen far more disturbing things than this.” “Demons don’t scare me.” “Let’s say the incantation together.” “Do you want to see something truly horrifying?” “We need a sacrifice.” “All you need to do is offer a little bit of blood. Just a tiny bit, that’s all!” “Trust me, and step into the circle.” “I’ve never felt power like this before.” “Open your eyes. It’s time for you to come back to life.” “I’ve done it. I am the master over death!” “I’m not evil. Magic isn’t evil. It’s just shades of grey.”

#shddfkdjfgh who has threads i still need to reply to??? this gal here~~ #so obviously its time for some memes lol #lets play

[13kana]

Kiko Mizuhara

#| she is a scarlet majesty ( i line the walls with mirrors and travesty ) |

[13kana]

#| hallowed ground ( i do this better than any god you've ever prayed to ) |

[13kana]

kana breezily waves away the first question from seulgi’s lips, an almost-shrug, half disinterest playing in the lethargic swing of her hands, in the softness of her gaze, in the recline of her back and neck. “what does it matter where conversations come from? where ideas and thoughts come from? everything is bestowed on us by mother moon evenly like droplets of rain throughout our lives, we just feel them at different points. perhaps i’m continuing a topic we had a million years ago, perhaps one we haven’t started yet.”

her tongue is weighted and heavy against her teeth as she speaks, the low drawl and slur of her speech no doubt working against her attempts to sound wiser than she feels, and she chuckles a little, wondering if she’s stopped making sense to the other. but true to form, seulgi humors her, continues on along the topic as though she’s invested instead of simply bored. “witches definitely do not have a better grasp of their powers, trust me-- there’s nothing more set out for witches than there is for familiars. we all have to figure things out. and don’t let anyone tell you differently, seulgi.” she’d been told differently once, a long, long time ago, and it had almost cost her her life; biased, foolish witches, thinking themselves so supreme as to endanger the life of a fifteen-year-old just to prove a point. kana still snarls at the memory of it. “that’s not what i’m talking about though, i’m speaking about apologies. you need not make them. no one ought to. being a cat is not a curse.”

she pauses a moment then, remembering what exactly it is that seulgi is referring to, when she speaks about dying, and the words of one of kana’s oldest friends, old baba yaga (though that isn’t the woman’s real name) flashes behind her eyes. “i will not let you die, seulgi-chan.” her voice is suddenly laden with steel, with metal, with flame. “we will figure things out for you. you must have faith that there is a way to survive, otherwise you’ll woe yourself to a grave. you don’t even know what will happen when the 10 step drops. not even the witch who cursed you knows.”

#13xseulgi #seulgi | the power of a dying blaze #13:blood moon

[13kana]

kana watches with wide, dismayed eyes jiwon’s fingers as they lightly tap her own temple, and for a staggering moment, kana is confused, blinking and blank-minded, but then of course it hits her with a slight start, her hands reaching up to her own ear to pull the pen away from her ear, her cheeks flushed and red, probably bright enough for jiwon to see all the way over on the other side of the room. kana turns away as quickly as possible, all the air in the house seeming to catch in her lungs, hopeful that the other girl hadn’t seen her ridiculous face and doesn’t think any less of her for being so absent from her own head. she reaches out towards the pile of papers sitting beside the door, busying herself with writing a list on them, even with how flighty she feels, how nervous, how off-set.

“i must look like such a wreck.” the whisper tumbles from her lips beneath her breath, although the other girl is doubtless close enough by now to hear it, having brought over the coats. a little louder, she infuses her voice with a little bit more steel, more concentration, grasping as whatever notes of propriety that she still can. “well, we may have to run and pick them up, actually, so i’ll need everything piled into the vehicle as soon as mr. cho brings it around.” her driver is a elderly gentleman, mute and scarred horribly by another witch many years ago before kana had known her, before she’d been in kana’s japanese coven together, before kana had crushed her bones against the gravel and grass of a clearing in the woods, murdered her in a fit of impossible power and rage and gravity. he’d followed her to korea after a year or so, begging for a job from her, since she’d taken what he’d had before.

“i’m sure i seem a little ridiculous,” she chuckles a little. “it’s just, this doesn’t happen very often and there are many rumors about this moon going around in the world right now. i want everything to be special. to be perfect.” she pauses a moment, gaze locked on the young familiar, as though everything unspoken about her might be better communicated through eye-contact than words. “do you think i should include more… real food? not just snacks?” she spins around, her eyes flitting and wild.

#13jiwon #jiwon | all the hands in the world #13:blood moon

[13kana]

kana shifts as the smaller creature moves, rising up take her place up onto kana’s lap, and the witch lets her do it, readjusting her own posture to accommodate the changeling, the loose, dreamy smile still playing artfully on her lips, no longer as ruby red as they had been at the beginning of this night. her lipstick, as well as the rest of her makeup and well put-together attire, has either been worn off or cast away carelessly as the hours of darkness have progressed; she had been playing in the water with the others a little while ago, as well as dancing in the firelight with yerin and junho some time before that. only her heels, unsteady and wobbly as she is in them on the sand, have managed to stick with her and remain untouched or untarnished.

she still curls herself around her familiar as best she can, despite the slight awkwardness of it, humming low in her throat as she closes her eyes again, her long, lithe form coiling around the white, fur fox that holds half her soul, and something inside her selfishly wishes none of the others can see her or come looking for her or momo. she wants this moment, as she wants all moments with momo alone together like this, to last as long as possible, the beats of her heart thrumming loud and aching against her rib cage whenever she’s this close, her fingers winding through the softness of her. as long as she’s here like this, she’s not bleeding, not breaking, not stepping in and out of the darkened worlds of onyx malevolence, racing against time and hell to collect as many good witches and changelings as she can. while she still can.

she’s never spoken as much, but whenever she’s around momo, she feels at peace, as though the world could melt away in fire and ash, and she would be able to sleep through it, as though she’s never been cursed, never been doused in blood, never watched her own child succumb to earth and stone, screaming for her from only a few inches away.

at the thought, her eyes snap open and she stirs. this is always the problem with being too close for too long to momo; peace can dangerous. “darling, are you unhappy? we should go back…” her voice trails off and she wonders if she doesn’t sound as convincing as she usually does when she lies.

#13xmomo #momo | unwanted drinks and feelings #13:blood moon

[13kana]

“materialization powers, perhaps not,” kana’s dark hair cascades across her shoulders and down her back as she shakes it out a bit, wishing to free it as though she could free herself, free from the darkness, free from the shadows, free from the nagging, scratching, endless murmurs at the edges of her life, the way her destiny has never really belonged to herself. she casts her mind back then, back to old books in borrowed libraries, their secrets spilling across pages so ancient they could tear apart into pieces with a strong enough breeze. “but transport runes… might be a different story.”

the grin tugs on the corners of her ruby red lips, giving the other witch a sideways look, her gaze full of answers to questions unasked, stars unburnt, knowledge concealed, the flickering light of the fire dancing across her features, bathing her in a mysterious glow. the moment passes however, and she’s back to the bright-eyed facade of drunkenness, her pitch rising in laughter as she yanks the chosen bottle right out of dami’s grip. “are you calling my wine cheap?” but then she looks at the object harder. “wait, this isn’t mine-- where’s mine? my wine isn’t cheap, i had it imported from france.” she’s going to be very upset if someone’s swallowed it all down, already.

#13xdami #13:blood moon

[13kana]

the power of a dying blaze | @13xseulgi

it’s later in the evening, after the dancing, after the joking, after the jubilation period, when kana’s feet are throbbing now and the sands are much too horrid now, scratching against her skin unpleasantly, worming its way through the straps of her heels ( a terrible idea to begin with but kana lives by certain rules she must abide by and  high-class fashion is one she’s not willing to break, even for nights such as this ). the moon hangs lowly this hour, a duller bronze than it had been before, a softening red, hueing more wane and pale as the minutes flit bywards, its descent across the sky mirroring kana’s own downward slope of disposition, her mood deepening, softening from her earlier joy.

she lounges across the blanket now, spread out with pillows and bottles, the bonfire still rising high into the starlit backdrop of sky thanks to plenty of featured magicks, not all having to do with their very own fire witch tucked away in the corner. kana grins as she adjusts herself, her head leaning against the soft of seulgi’s stomach, half-lidded eyes gazing at the flames and the surf, her voice trailing softly through the sleepy thrashing of tides in the distance. “it’s alright y’know, that the change comes violently for some, it certainly did for me. you shouldn’t have to feel any sort of way about it, no one should ever feel the need to apologize. well, i suppose maybe i should’ve-- i broke every glass and mirror in a five-mile radius when i came into my powers-- but even i didn’t grant regrets for it at all. people who feel sorrow for their powers don’t fully understand them, that’s what i think.”

#seulgi | the power of a dying blaze #13xseulgi #13:blood moon

[13kana]

artful woozy beach breaking | @13jvn

kana stumbles on the unsteady sands of the beach, the winds tugging on her gentle enough not to cause her too much damage-- or at least, not nearly as much impairment as the alcohol in her system does, the delicious toxic steaming through her veins, hot and emboldening, livening her posture and the gleams in her eyes. she is a star tonight, burning and falling all over herself, bright and cascading at all her angle, the light shining through her parted lips, her glowing skin, the way she is all giggles and reaching hands, her fingers clasping around whoever is within her perimeter in hugs or kisses or cuddles. she is little more than a teddy bear tonight, even as her natural power pulses around her, thrumming.

this time, the person who gets caught in the circumference of her atmosphere is junho, her favored son, her darkened prince, lacking in charm perhaps but reminiscent enough for the moment to her; she nearly doubles but reaches for his tall frame, her long, thin arms draping around his shoulders the way a ship anchor latches onto the shore and drags the boat towards dry land. she’s chuckling of course, amused by herself and way he looks tonight even though it’s nothing quite out of the ordinary, her mood soaring and jubilant.

“okay okay, i’ll admit perhaps wearing these heels to the beach isn’t exactly at the top of my list of good ideas, but,” she leans heavily against him, turning him towards her so he’s forced to address his mother. “but they looked so good with these pants, i couldn’t help myself. i’m weak.”

#junho | artful woozy beach breaking #13jvn #13:blood moon

[13kana]

all the hands in the world | @13jiwon

it’s not often that takeda kana is agitated.

devil knows, she’s not perfect and if one of her kids ever happens to pass before the doorways to certain rooms on the third floor of her mansion, they’ll see her quite a bit more upset than they’re used to, nothing of the poised, pristine majesty she strives to maintain on a daily basis-- certain pieces of her unraveling every so often, bleeding or burning, knocking her into coughing fits as she exits rooms designed only for herself. she always wears heels and she always bears perfected makeup, nails long and decorative, back straight, eyes sharp and gleaming, but for all the unspoken atmospheric power that radiates off her aura in currents, she is, occasionally, off-beat.

today happens to be one of those said days, although not for any distressing reasoning, not for anything too disturbing or tragic-- more simply that she is excited, enlivened, the lights in her eyes lit up animatedly, her skin bright and brilliant as she flits from one end of the room to the other, gathering up snacks and small sandwiches, piling them all into a big picnic basket, and then gathering blankets and coats enough for twice the size of her coven. her brightly colored clothes shimmer in the light as she dashes around, her mind churning a mile a minute.

“damn. damn! jiwon-chan, can you find my pen i was just using? i swear i just had it…” she spins about confused, not noticing the piece tucked just behind her own ear.

#jiwon | all the hands in the world #13jiwon #13:blood moon

[13kana]

the cat who couldn’t land on her feet | @13xseulgi

“swear to me!” the woman howled through her tears and her fury, her aged voice on the other end of the phone line cracked and splintered, heaving morose and exhausted. “swear to me you’ll find her… that you’ll--…. that you’ll hurt her.”

“darling, i’m not that person anymore, i cannot--”

“you owe me. or have you forgotten, izanami?” kana bristles at the old nickname-- now hated in her ears. “shall i take my gifts back from you? are you no longer in need of them?”

“come now,” she attempts to sooth the older woman, thankful that the beastly creature cannot see kana’s strained face, cannot see her eyes flickering over to the other young woman, her prey, a changeling, sitting almost a world away at the other side of the shop, waiting for her order to finish up, unaware of kana’s attentions or intentions. kana keeps her tone low, safely in the baritones, where she is more powerful, where her voice resonates with control. “blackmail is beneath you, we both know it.”

“takeda-ssi…” the broken woman on phone inhales and kana can hear the pain in it. she’s dying. “my girl, my precious little girl is dead. because of that wretch. because of that mangy, filthy cat.”

“you told me you’ve already cursed her.”

“it’s not enough! that was before….”

kana pauses a long moment, understanding the implication without the need for words, understanding a little too much, a little too well-- the emptiness yawning inside her, spasming and echoing the ghost of her own child, the hollowness in his eyes, the tiny fingers reaching and reaching and reaching; it’s a hell, outliving one’s own family, being the last survivor. “i will deal with this for you, old baba yaga.” the decade-old nickname chuckles itself off her lips in reply, her chest tight with the hope that she sounds honest. she doesn’t know how she feels yet, not yet, not before she’s met this harsh, repulsive familiar, this cat with all the bad luck on the planet.

she hangs up the phone quickly after hearing the older woman’s exhale, taking that as leave to end the connection, and only has to wait a moment or two before the changeling collects up her food and heads out from the shop, kana hot on her heels. “excuse me, love.” her voice rings out across the busy city sidewalk, the midday sun hovering cold and white against the buildings and surrounding populace. getting the other to stop, kana breaks, sharp, dark eyes guarded and incredulous. “you don’t know me, but i know you. i know of you. i know what you’ve done and i know what you need to fix it. walk with me… let’s talk.”

#seulgi | the cat who couldn’t land on her feet #13xseulgi

[13kana]

“my heart, my love, my darling kitsune~” kana howled over the cackling fire, having wondered where her beloved fox familiar went off to, her usually sharpened gaze a little fuzzy, a little gleamed and softened, happier than she would be normally, easier on laughter than she would be on nights like this, nights when the winds rushed wildly and the moon bled warningly. all her magic concludes to this night as a pointed fact, something shifting, something changing, something new joining the eons old game they’re all still learning to play, and if kana could come into her right mind, she would be a little more cautious about the night, about it’s signs and configurations and harrowing.

but tonight she celebrates the moon mother, tonight the celestial energies flow through her like licks of ecstatic flames, the stars setting her on fire, alighting her in their love and dust and hope and burning, burning, burning, and kana burns with them. her atmosphere shines out from her, her powers almost a tangible light around her frame, her smile wide and unbroken for once, a recollection back to a time before she’d shattered herself against the rocks, against the seabed, a time before the death of everything around her. she smiles and drinks and forgets and drowns herself in the night and all the feelings she would never usually allow herself to feel.

“what are you doing over here in the dark, little one?” she asks, approaching momo in her fox form, kana’s favorite ( completely biased for a number of reasons ), her white fur beautiful and tantalizing in the red-hued moonlight; and whether it’s the alcohol or way her soul pulls on her whenever she’s in momo’s presence, kana falls and kneels in the sand, tumbles down to momo’s level, burying her face in the unbelievably soft, sweet mane, her arms coiling around the animal she adores so much. she doesn’t attempt to pick the changeling up, doesn’t wish to disturb her, just… needs the closeness, the familiarity. while she still has it. “i miss you,” she purrs into momo’s slender back, thinking of the girl, not the fox, the girl and her eyes and fingers and neck and lips and the breath always caught in her voice and the flutter of eyelashes she always gives when she’s nervous and the way kana’s name sits on her tongue, like a prayer. “don’t leave.”

unwanted drinks and feelings.

OPEN.

The sun had almost set, and the fox was sitting by herself in a corner, tucked away from the rest of the coven’s view. Granted, it was not hard to notice anyone missing given their small number, but Momo was taking that chance by hiding behind some huge rocks shaded by the nearby palm tree. It was a good thing that the beach was deserted. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have any peace as she watched the waves crash into one another. The sand was cool against her soft fur, lying flat against it, as if she was tired of even sitting up. She was. Momo revelled at the comfortable temperature while it lasted, heaving a soft sigh through her snout. The sea breeze tickled her whiskers and she blinked back the sand getting into her deep black eyes, continuing her lazy watch with a barely audible huff.

She liked to think that it was easier to mull over feelings in this form. She had more of an animal instinct despite her consciousness being intact; survival came first, and the safety of others — specifically, her witch — was her priority.

Momo tried not to think about Kana.

It was easier when all she felt was the slight hunger and the sound of the wind on her raised ears. At least, Momo liked to think so. Biological needs and animal instincts were more convenient to deal with than the wretched emotions that made her feel slightly ill as a human. Unfortunately, they didn’t disappear, but only dulled, if anything. Momo felt pathetic, and she was sure that she also looked like it.

#momo | unwanted drinks and feelings #13:blood moon #13xmomo

[13kana]

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?”

#dami | charcoal dreams and a fashion sense to match #13xdami #i hope this is okay???