What does your character think of the character a-

"how many stories have i heard about women disguised as men or the other way around? ahh.. maybe one day, they will dig up your story again and you will be martyred- or your name will be trampled on in ways you have never expected. i feel that, though you are human and i am fully artificial, we can bond over our beginnings. your hatred for duruta and my recent actions towards human, and yet, they play a part in our respective beginnings."

no matter how noble that woman may be, magic had no respect for anything other than the shared concept of their creation. he could understand the want and need to smite those who had ruined their lives. but, under the excuse of war? that, he had no respect for. it isn't as though any of his feelings mattered, though, it was all nothing more than a series of computations.

     "What kinda name is "Magic, Murder, and the Weather", anyway?" spat Ken as he pointed an agitated finger Magic's way. "It's too long! Is that your three names? What's the proper order for it, huh? I don't like it! Change it now!" He grumbled under his breath while pressing his fists against his hips. This guy gave him the creeps, but he wasn't going to show it. He reminded him a little of that creepypasta he'd read about the weird robo-magician that attacked real people during his show, but that was just some stupid story, right? Not like it freaked him out or anything, and definitely not like this guy was the real deal and not a cosplayer!

     Ken looked at Magic's outfit before huffing. "I guess you have a good taste in clothes, though. But don't let it get to your head!" He crossed his arms and angrily looked away. To think they'd be matching shirts...!

Sid stared at the man through the bangs of her hair. "You look like a pirate." She paused. "Pirates are ok, I guess. I mean, are you a pirate? You seem very pirate-y. Would you dress as a fictional pirate at a kid's birthday party? Wow, you're old." 

"Ah, you're a tanuki. I heard about them a lot". 

"I know that tanuki and raccoon are not the same because raccoons are belong in the Procyonidae family while tanukis are belong in the Canidae family. Foxes and wolves are also belong in the Canidae family so I guess you, foxes, and wolves are more the same than the raccoon?"

"I also know that tanuki are known for it's giant...bowling balls. Many art and drawing depicts tanuki using its marbles as a boat to save people from the river or as a parachute or blanket. It's also believed that those giants bowling marbles represent good luck charm in business. Unfortunately, you're a female and you're too young to know this but nevertheless, here's all the stuff I know about tanuki"

"We've been keeping our eyes on this man for quite some time between the cracks of dimensional rifts. He's always appearing here and there, ever so driven by mortal curiousity and virtue. In the events of our eavesdropping, he speaks of his global traversal, quite restless. We'd love to add him to our collection. We want him to be a part of us."

(I’m sorry this is a little long, I always write too much, but I think Legion is super cool so I couldn’t help myself!)

It had been hard at first to focus directly on Legion, their body was made of energy, or at least of something that made their form shift and move unlike anything she’d ever seen. But what was to be expected of a being that seemed to represent the very idea of many and one.

The undead kept her distance, waiting in the shadows as she observes silently. She’s met gods and demon’s before… some occasionally similar in that such being represented or even ruled over things… an idea, an activity… places. But a being as broad of a concept as this? It was surprising to her.

Her internal musing comes to a halt as she realizes that the light had shifted, and she’s left crouching by what had once been in shadow. With her cover blown, the undead straightens, stepping back to give more space between herself and the presumably incredibly dangerous being now watching her. She nods her head politely, though a spark of terror courses through her when she realizes that she’s still closer to Legion than she would like.

“You’ll have to forgive my snooping, I just…” Illanya pauses as she collects the words. “I find a being that represents such broad concepts to be curious is all. One would think a being like yourselves wouldn’t bother with mortals and yet, that is not the case.” The Death Knight furrows her brow, giving Legion a more severe look. 

“I understand you… is absorb the right word? I don’t know how else to describe what happens to the mortals who become one with you…” she shakes her head solemnly, “Why do you do it? Is it from a desire to be all that there is? Is it a desire for more knowledge for each life you claim? Do you do it for the mortals you claim? All are possibilities I’ve wondered about but only now have thought to ask.” The undead makes a face as she says this and sighs, a clearly nervous look gracing her scarred features.

“Actually that’s not entirely true… I’ve also been too frightened to ask. You absolutely terrify me. I find your very concept makes me want to run away and hide. Yet here I am… Because your concept also wildly fascinates me and I could not bear to let my curiosity lie.” 

(AAAA sorry I have been dying the last few days but this was awesome omg 😭 This poor man goodness gracious. )

(hahaaaaaaa Spoiler cause my lad is uh- not doing so hot in this 

(also length but idk yet

Was it any surprise that Maribelle enjoyed J's company? Not only was she a relief -- a bit of a reprieve, too, if one wanted to get a little darker -- but in spite of their first meeting being rather unkind, albeit more on the younger's part, well... well, Maribelle liked anyone who gave her food. It might have been foreign food she was offered, but at this point, she would take anything that wasn't fried eggs and potatoes.

That aside, she found that she didn't know much about J. Where she grew up was harsh, as told by a little bird, in between hovels and dirt, and in her adulthood, considered an undesirable. Was it her capabilities that made her this way? The very nature of her birth? These and some other things were to be considered, thought Maribelle, but in the end, J was more than that, simple and yet complex, somehow an enigma and yet not quite. She was a necromancer, a scoundrel, a doctor, a woman hexed but maybe not doomed.

But, what Maribelle knew -- or what she hoped was ultimately true -- was that J was a good person. That was a bit of a stretch, even then. It was only a matter of time before that changed, thought Maribelle, but she may as well enjoyed what fleeting kindness she could dig up. Such as now. Overhead, cranes flocked in a V formation, darting past the sky until they disappeared over forest canopies and behind the rare sparse clouding. There was a blanket that the women sat upon, furs the girl brought from home and drew over the canyon stone. There was a burning smell coming from within Maribelle's basket, food spicy enough to make a person's eyes water.

"I tried to... make this for you in particular..." she spoke as she offered one of the eye-watering containers to J, "It's only curry with rice... I am sorry if you do not like it. There is only so much I can do, but I figured it only... good. To do this for you. For your help."

His eyes find her face again, though this time it's from a distance. She's past the creek that separates his property from the state, sitting around on some rocks and looking as dreary as she usually does. Out here on this line, there's nothing he can do about her presence; not unless he wants to bring home a dead body and get sent to the basement again for committing a murder when his Pa told him not to. His family was under surveillance due to some ridiculous allegations that they were hiding something 'heinous', as stated by some dumb hippie who so happened to stumble on their property during a culling. It was just chicken blood everywhere, his family reinforced. Just chicken blood.

Though he knew different, he went with the lie and convinced himself of it. His chainsaw had been put away in the shed and padlocked away for time being. Landscaping. That's what he had to say it was used for. Regardless, it didn't matter the history, he was here now and without a weapon to terrorize the girl with. She had a problem with coming back here. Maybe it was the forest, with how lavish it was compared to the cities that surrounded it. Or maybe it was something calling her here, as some folks had claimed before. Really, it didn't matter. She was here again and he scowls at her existence. She was such an unfortunate girl, with such a lousy, droopy face that he wondered briefly if she was abandoned and that's why she stuck around. He'd never struck up a conversation with her before, nor would he ever; but he figures she's not all that bright and probably talks about dumb things like how sad she is or how she misses her parents. Then maybe the weather, like all the average people outside of his farm did. 

She wasn't very strong, though she did have legs that could carry her. After chasing her several times and losing her, he figured that out quickly. Granted, with nothing positive other than that to think of her, he steps from out of the trees with a rock in hand, which he throws directly at her head. "Get th'fuck outta here, I ain't tellin' you again!" 

The fox peeked out of the forest, hopping on a decent-sized rock for them to perch on. It stalked the man in silence, flicking its tail every few minutes before the man went inside. It soon went back into the woods, appearing at the base of the creek just a few minutes later. They quickly go across the creek, their bell-tipped ears jingling as they shook off most of the water. Their eyes narrowed at the sight of a small mouse eating some crackers off the bare path. They didn't bother catching it, as they were only here to explore the land around the house. As they were exploring, one of the doors slammed open. With a shotgun in hand, a bulky guy came out and started searching for it.

Not before long, the guy found the fox and started shooting at it. The fox whipped around and started sprinting away, weaving between the tall grass, shots still ringing. It luckily dodged them. After around 20 minutes of running, The Man ran out of ammo, so the fox snuck up on the man and dug its teeth into the man's bare leg. The grass was too thick to see down in, so the man tumbled backward. It started tugging on the man's leg before quickly running back to the creek, its bells jingling as they cockily walked back into the forest.

At first, he wasn't sure what he was looking it. It was a... a fox? They were watching Salamander carefully as he set his bag down, rummaging through his supplies. After a curious moment, the man pulled some food out, half a bagel, and offered it towards the creature. Another moment passed as the scent of the food drifted to Chime's nose, who was trying to decide if a tasty treat was worth approaching this man for.

"It's okay, come and get a bite, petit renard, I won't hurt you."

Salamander sat down, breaking off a piece of the bagel for himself. perhaps the fox-like critter would rather have company with a meal? The pyromancer took a gamble on getting their attention more - a small flame danced to life at his fingertip to toast a bit of bagel. Users of fire often had a certain kinship, and he had heard of this animal (a 'flareon' he thinks it's called?) as a fiery beast from a world similar to his own. He was sure it was working, as the flareon moved towards him, gingerly approaching another fire wielder offering a bagel that smelled like it had fruit in it. Surely he would have harmed or scared Chime by now if that was the goal, right? As they carefully took the bagel half from his clawed hands, Sala pretended not to notice, trying not to spook the cute critter.

It took a second for Salamander to process what Hansol was going on about, as the youth spoke so quickly with so much energy. Were dragons really that uncommon here? He'd started to ask, but was cut off by another question, and hit with another couple sentences before he could even process how to figure where to start. With an amused sigh, he put his hand on Hansol's chest and pushed him back gently, giving himself enough room. In a fiery plume of smoke and flame, the pyromancer's form was replaced by leather, wings, and a mane scorching with the fury of the very sun. Salamander liked making a bit a spectacle transforming - if people wanted to be amazed, he would give them that. The dragon spread his large wings in an arc and whipped his tail, the flames loudly dancing around.

Hansol's energy grew intense. All the slang Salamander had yet to hear, examining him like a fine hound at a dog show, touching the scars and long-healed wounds. The dragon chuckled at the enthusiasm. Quite refreshing to have someone with this much positivity around!

"oh shiiittt!!" Hansol gasps, though his eyes are wide and his fingers flex anxiously, there is a sense of animated wonder and excitement dripping from his voice. "Are you really a dragon?? that is SICK!!" He grins, eyes unsure of where to lock themselves as he examines from Salamander's scruffy hair down to the leather of his boots. He isn't all too fond of treating people like cattle, but the sheer excitement of meeting someone as unique as the other has the smaller boy scrabble to his feet to circle him with ease. "You don't look like a dragon!! You look kinda soft to be honest, like you'd be my roommate in college and we'd play cards against humanity together n chat about our favorite fast food!!" He hums, prodding his finger a little hesitantly across the scar of Salamander's lip, pulling it back slightly in the process to gaze doe-eyed at the sharp canines hidden there. "OH DOPE!! YOU REALLY ARE A DRAGON!!"