on gods. [arionna, unfinished]

Kiara Woolfe
With Halloween drawing near, the store that Kiara Woolfe finds herself in one early Wednesday evening has, rather suddenly, become a sort of mecca for the uninformed (but eager) All Hallows Eve reveler. Herbs & Artsis a large, sweet smelling establishment in East Colfax that rather stands out on its block for the number of strange and wonderful statues standing guard in its window, back by silvery, gleaming curtains and surrounded by an arch of odd looking stars and glyphs which, the like minded soul would comprehend but, to others, gave it an eccentric, nearly off putting air.
Tonight, the glass doors stand open, lights ablaze well after its opening hours as figures mill about inside, seemingly just dismissed and loudly chattering after a class. Many with rolled up Yoga mats under their arms, perusing the towering aisles; floor to ceiling jars of incense, oils, unknown creams suggesting cures for everything from depression to a persistent foot fungus. It's here, between a marble bust of a young woman whose figure had been turned into a small fountain and a tall bookshelf full of dusty volumes that Kiara is found, her face buried between the pages, a mat obligingly under her own arm and her attire suited to a young woman just returned from some triumph of athleticism.
The owners are yet to round up the stragglers, and the till rings with various last minute purchases as the Verbana amuses herself in what appears to be an instructional volume on the best care of your soul.

Arionna de la Babin
[perc aware]
Dice: 5 d10 TN6 (1, 2, 2, 4, 7) ( success x 1 )

Arionna de la Babin
New agey stores are both fascinating and appalling to someone like Ari. They're not the places she frequents, or at least she doesn't for anything other than the handful of items that are difficult to find elsewhere; grocery stores are not known for their handling of uncommon spices. Even their teas tend to be the sort that are already in little bags. So much to her chagrin, Ari is reduced to sliding into places where women with magical fascination in the foreign congregate to accumulate creams that will 'cure aging' or some other odd idea.
Melt this candle and your true love will find you! Please, as if it were that simple. The gods are hardly so petty.
It's cool enough now that she's dressed in a black long sleeve with her knee length skirt, leggings and boots. So cliche in her choice of black, though she accents it with an orange crystal at her through (the only jewelry she bothers to wear). She mills at the candles, trying to decide exactly which she wants, how many, and how she wants to pair things. It's all about the ritual, and it has to be just right.

Kiara Woolfe
[Let's see if the dice want to be kind tonight, Awareness, perhaps?]
Dice: 5 d10 TN6 (1, 2, 3, 8, 10) ( success x 2 )

Kiara Woolfe
It's rarely so simple, indeed. True casting required far more than an intention to locate love. Though one doubts that a cheap candle with perfume fragrance would do much to inspire anything but the hasty location of a window to ventilate the smell. Still - there was magic to be found, for the right person, at the right cost - monetarily, spiritually ... Kiara already had in one hand a bag of what seemed to be dried leaves, inconspicuous enough since they could have been for any purpose, yet as she sets her reading material back on the shelf with a faintly derisive snort, they rustle as she moves along the asile and then --
The air seems to grow colder, losing its sweetness in favor of something far more base and destructive, crystallising and slowing the blood --
She pauses and glances at the dark haired girl loitering around the candle display. The barest suggestion of a smile twitches the corner of the female's mouth and she re-directs her path, her approach heralded with her own brand of atmospheric disturbance, it feels as if something is peeling back the layers of the room, corrosive and devouring, without motive or concern before it retracts and offers a balm to its own sensation. Like waves lapping, it cycles over as the Verbana appears at the smaller female's side and points at a black candle.
"That one's great for cleansing your rooms."

Arionna de la Babin
It's not as intense for her; likely she's focused on something else entirely and almost misses the sensation. Ari, who was considering a candle, pauses and casts a glance to the side of her as Kiara approaches. She's feeling more of this lately. Sometimes she runs into people who feel strange, or at least passes them by, but those have been uncommon in the past. Now almost every time she slips out of the house, she meets someone who doesn't feel quite normal.
Her dark hair slides around her face as she lowers her head just a little, keeping Kiara within her view and still keeping herself slightly shielded. Arionna is still unsure how to handle all these odd people.
"Or for cursing.I have a deep preference for red in that case, however."

Kiara Woolfe
"Mm." She's quite tall, the brunette who has planted herself beside Arionna. Tall and slender, with that same hard to place otherness she's been feeling from strangers. It's easy enough to assume you're going crazy, when the world suddenly seems to be talking back. The Verbana picks up a pink candle, fatter and bulkier than most others and lifts it to her nose, murmuring as she does, "people always assume red to be color of dark magic."
Kiara sets the candle back, her gaze settling on the Orphan beside her with an unsettling sort of weight. They're very dark, her eyes. Unerringly brown and at present, studying Arionna like she's an interesting new specimen the store's just imported. "Same with black, actually. I like to think there's more to them than that.
I'm Kiara." She holds out a hand, its devoid of any rings or trinkets tonight.

Arionna de la Babin
"Dark magic is a misnomer. The use of the term 'Dark' often suggests maliciousness or evil. The colors associated are not in conjunction with ones desires but the desires of that which they are appealing to." She peered to the side still, watching, and listening to the taller woman. "'Dark' magic is no more shallow than the rest of it. The emotions and place of which it derives is just as important to the functioning of the world."
Arionna looked to the hand but didn't offer hers in turn. She reached for the red candle instead, rolling it in her hands as if she expected something to happen right then. "I take it that you prefer the....lighter side of the world."

Kiara Woolfe
An eyebrow quirks in tandem with the corner of the stranger's mouth. It's not an altogether appreciative smile, but tinged with something almost pitying; perhaps a little mocking. Certainly the dark eyes seem to find amusement in the refusal of a handshake and Kiara lets her hand remain for a few longer moments as if it were, in and of itself, a test of some kind that, with a burgeoning smile, the girl has failed. To her mingled disappointment and perhaps, in some tiny part, expectation.
"I think I read that in one of these books somewhere, you know," Kiara returns with deceiving lightness, tracing her fingers along the spines of several nearby idly, as if she hadn't much care for what they enclosed. Arionna toys with the red candle and Kiara prowls around the other side of the display, smiling in passing at one of the owners, a large, red cheeked woman with several crystals hanging around her neck, rushing to aid a customer before she topples over a number of glass jars behind them.
I take it you prefer the lighter side of the world.
The Verbana's eyes flit to her again, she smiles, but it's a Mona Lisa Smile, full of half truths and unknowns. "Dark and light are part of the same whole. I prefer to remain in harmony with nature." She runs the tip of her finger over a dangerously sharp edge belonging to one of the candle holders. "There's some truth though," she permits, "to watching what you put out there." She glances sharply at the black candle, her expression turning thoughtful.
"The best of us can make mistakes, after all."

Arionna de la Babin
She grabs three of the red candles, somewhat content with her decision. Though there were a few other things she needed...incense perhaps. Something with a very particular scent; she'd know it when she smelled it. As Kiara moves to the other side, Arionna lifts her gaze to follow her, watching her movements with curiosity. Her attention only flits momentarily towards the owner, eyes dropping to the crystals around her neck. The tightness of her lips suggests her dislike of such excessive wears. It's likely that the woman hasn't a clue what she's wearing, or even how to use it right.
"There is nothing that is put anywhere. It's the will of the gods, and one only channels it. If the gods didn't wish it, then they will express their dissatisfaction. Whether it's ill or not. The world is not a kind place. It doesn't reward good behavior anymore than it punishes ill behavior. Many people live quite well who are otherwise vile and aberrations to the world. There are others who are contain greatness within them, and yet are provided with nothing. They suffer, and perish. "
She lifted her head a little to look directly at Kiara momentarily. "Villainy exists more often in what one perceives as 'light' than so many are willing to admit." Arionna inhales slowly, her attention drifting towards the others in the shop.

Kiara Woolfe
"You speak very certainly about your Gods." Kiara offers lightly, still tracing her fingers over the top of a holder, her eyes resting on Arionna over it, that same infuriating edge of a smile playing around her mouth. "Faith can be as much a danger as anything else. Too rigid a devoutness has offered the world a lot of pointless wars and bloodshed."
She draws her finger away, rubbing her thumb against it, there's a flash of red before she conceals it. "But you have a valid point, the world isn't kind, but it's not particularly cruel, either. It simply endures. People find cruelty in the indifference of it."
She moves around the display now, adjusting her mat under her arm, looking distracted for a moment as she searches out the owner, one imagines, to ring through her own purchases. "Don't be too sure about where the distinctions are, though. In my experience, they're more often than not blurred."