PatchworkPrince

He wasn't home. One moment he had been watching the latest news on the arena and then as it went, he was here. The woods were dark and the trees went out in all directions. Red eyes carved into the trees watched back. They asked him if he had felt bad about the previous tries. He had. He had not liked the times he couldn't get back home. Couldn't be where he was supposed to. The eyes took this and left him. He wasn't home. One moment he had been in the woods and then he was here. Here in this place that made him nervous. Here in this quiet lab that was now tapped and bored up. Something happened. What happened? Did they leave? Did It leave? Would it come back? Where they elsewhere now? And why again was he here? The doors he had remembered were closed but one. The exit from before was gone. Before it, he could see a glow of red faintly. The keypad was on, lit, and entered. Someone had been here. Someone with high access. Someone who could still go places. The door moved open

He hadn't been tired. He was sure he wasn't tired. But in the room he had been staying while coming here, the screen had just blurred. It didn't feel like fainting. It felt like being submerged in a soft weight. When he woke, he was inside somewhere. The place smelled stale and it was vacant. As devoid and dead as a tv fading to black. But there felt like he had come just after closing. Signs of work, of a busy schedule, were all around him. When he moved to one room, he saw it was labeled specimens. But it wasn't normal specimens. Not in the way you'd expect. He had seen these before. As commonplace as brooms in shops but their familiarity while floating in jars was unsettling. Off. Just a step right from normal. Who would put these in jars? They bubbled without an answer. Whatever it was, he wasn't a employee and in the know to get it. He moved to the hallway and to the other door, expecting to see someone but not. Specimen 016324-ABX-3 s - nightmare starvation. They had no

The look of pure confusion settled deep into Radix’s features as he was placed before the spread of beauty products fresh from their packaging. There was a soft scent of baby powder as he picked up a round circle of light red that had several flowers stamped into the surface of the powder. The small stygian beside him seemed pleased and at ease as they picked up everything with an air of tender familiarity and purpose. The steps he did not know, but the list given to him to have applied was set on the table and so he looked at each thing there and set them in a line - as if that would somehow provide him a sense of direction. Mascara. Eye liner. Lipstick, and false lashes. It was four things, and three of them had the names of the body parts it went with. Perfect. And everyone made some kinda fuss that makeup was some kinda art. Taking one stick, he opened it up and noticed it was black with a little end. He’d seen stygians with black lipstick and so he placed the thick, black

Radix stared at the velvet bag that had been given to him, set upon a darkened cloth of silk. Upon the silk was a wooden box that, opened, was lined with a crimson fabric. The stygian before him was elegant and nicely dressed. Both their hair and clothes flowed about them like ghostly rivers of pale moon white and canary red. Unlike the other challenges, this one didn’t feel like a flashy show or a boisterous display among a group of fans. It was quieter, softer, and had an air of importance without much risk. Radix stared at the bag that was awaiting him, and picked up the bag to open it. The bones were worn, carved in specific ways, each one different from the next. He had to think of someone to do his deviation for, but he knew no one. He had a neighbor, but what future was worth it to him to know. That he may or may not grow flowers? That seemed like a silly waste of knowing the future - even if he had never looked into the future with bones. The scroll on how to read the bones

Radix stood in silent awe at a creature that, despite lacking in so much pigmentation and vibrancy, still managed to catch the eye in all the shimmery glory of a summer scorching sun. Sunspots in his own eyes, he tried not to look directly at the stygian who in some moments reminded him of a Lilly and other times like looking right up close to a lamp. Already feeling a headache coming on from exposure, he had to admit that radiance of any kind tended to uplift his own spirits due to the very giving nature of the sun itself. Floral in its own design, the miniature stood in a sharp contrast to the regal shimmer of the other stygian who spoke and stood in a way that all but demanded your attention. Radix had at least the element of color on his side as he stood as a brilliant cranberry and green before the other, only even more illuminated by her own coat as he tried to rise up more on his own hoof-tips to gain some kind of height to be more visible to the judging crowd. All three of