Here, you might be considered a sorceress~ So difficult to define, it grants freedom as much as it takes. I hope you make use of this power to the fullest."
And I believe, many aren't ready to face the truth." Yet before him, it seemed he met one open-eyed to the often ugly reality hidden behind the curtains. "A witch..." He chuckled, reminded of his own people's superstitions. "There are many names for that which is not understood. +
"For decades now, my people have suffered at the hands of these men. One of them was motivated by relentless persecution- just like the rest of his entire family. I understand stating his clan is not to be blamed were to pose the question: who really brought all of this upon us? +
Softer was his glance once his pipe ran out of tobacco - which didn't take more than a handful of drags. "You were keeping an eye on me, weren't you? I appreciate your concern, my Lady. But I must ask so directly; who may you be?"
Quickly did his head bow, an expression of gratitude for her concerns. "He wasn't telling the truth," he simply stated, feeling free to say so considering her origins as told by her attire. "They were words of prejudice, such which have plagued this land to begin with." +
smoke to the skies. He would have to have a word with the narrator once the show ceased, for the consequences of speaking up in the moment may not have been fortunate. His posture straightened when an unfamiliar mask's sight fell on him. Vague memory lit up, reminding of earlier curiosity. +
Before the entrance, he made sure to take some distance before flipping open the lid of his lighter. It had been a gift by his saviors, those who had already learned to force fire into convenience. Heating the metallic end of his slender pipe over a thin flame, he soon blew a wavering cloud of +
Thank you for educating a non-native speaker, lectern. On to change the dictionary definition next
Of the man who had invited all horrors, Orochi Kurozumi. Soon, the crucial moment came and his brows furrowed. 'Kurozumi is born to burn.' Charcoal is born to burn - words that had never left the princess' mouth. In protest, he rose from his seat and left the hall. He needed a smoke out front...
a single shining light had snuck in. Undisturbed in serene glory, the princess he had initially forbidden to come played music within the eye of the storm. Well aware it was her parents' lost lives they all took revenge for, he deemed it should be her dagger to drive into the vile enemy's heart. +