Atlasxrose - Blog Posts

🌟👀👑

🌟 …someone my muse trusts.

    “Ri has my whole trust forever.”

👀 …someone my muse likes, but doesn’t trust.

    “Safiye, especially with her recent help though I’m sure if she could find a way to curse me she would.” @safiyebasak

👑 …someone my muse is jealous of.

    “Fran for being just so confidently himself as a cubi.” @franciscoamore

atlasxrose‌:

@silaskyun​

Atlas sat pondering the vision he’d had the night of the murder, the woman with dark hair and dark eyes, the green scales that had trailed up and down her arms. The onslaught of spirits that had besieged the town, if there was no way of saving her that night, then why had the Gods sent him a vision of her entering the Temple? He wondered what use it all was, questioning things that he could quite clearly not control. The witch had wandered into a shop, doing what he could to distract himself when he saw the man standing not far from him now. 

Atlas wasn’t sure why his intuition had brought him here, but Scylla had been at the forefront of his thoughts so the witch just spat the question out. “Hey, this might seem like a weird question but you haven’t seen a woman come in here in the last few days have you? - Uh, dark hair, dark eyes?” This was Corinth, Atlas had just described probably the majority of the female population. “I don’t know… She was a bit unique.” Scaled, for instance. “You’d remember her.”

A single eyebrow arose on Silas’s face at the question. It wasn’t as if there were a lot of people that came into his shop, but the list had already risen up to at least a dozen and the cubi wasn’t sure how to respond. The man before him looked flustered, words sounding a bit desperate and all Silas could do was give him a shrug. “Yeah, I mean—” the right words needed to be chosen in order to get more information from the stranger, “A few, but maybe you can give me a little more detail? Was she wearing something specific?”

Though through all the chatting, he couldn’t keep his mind off the scale in his pocket as if it was burning a hole. The cubi wanted to touch it, place his calloused hands upon the smooth emerald finish just to ensure it was still resting there. But if he went for it now, there was no way he wouldn’t seem suspicious and he begged his mind to stop thinking about it. “Maybe even a specific piece of jewelry?” which would have been something Silas had actually noticed given his line of work. Unique pieces to the mass-market objects, he enjoyed seeing what was on trend and being purchased.