Encounterlogs
Ritsukas Odd Encounter Sr Riley 241218
In a serenely mystical shrine to Alabaster-kami, enveloped by the dense embrace of a verdant garden and the veiled light of a waning gibbous moon, Ritsuka finds herself approached by an odd figure, striding silently through the snow. This man, with attire ill-suited to the chill and a demeanor oddly out of place, introduces himself with an unsettling calmness as Ahriman, revealing his interest in making a pact with Ritsuka. His slick appearance and the eccentric humming of "House of the Rising Sun" signposted his arrival, a contrast stark against the shrine's tranquility. As the night air bristles with the tension of their encounter, Ritsuka, guarded yet intrigued, discerns the nature of their discussion is bound toward the dark whispers of a contract, a testament to the clashing worlds they hail from.
Despite Ahriman's persuasive proposition, which entails exchanging an eye for vague promises of patronage, Ritsuka's resolve remains unshaken. Her refusal, articulated with a grace and strength drawn from her divine lineage, mirrors the essence of the sacred ground she occupies. The exchange, brimming with the subtle dance of power and resistance, culminates in Ritsuka asserting her identity and her path, unmoved by temptations of power or veiled threats. Ahriman, revealing the grotesque truth beneath his human facade, reluctantly accepts her decision. What follows is a quiet triumph for Ritsuka, who not only repels the demon's advances but also extends her protection to an unwitting accomplice caught in Ahriman's web, illustrating her inherent strength and kindness. As Ahriman recedes into the shadows from whence he came, Ritsuka's encounter at the shrine stands as a testament to her unwavering spirit and the power of choosing one's own fate, guided by the light amidst the encroaching darkness.
(Ritsuka's odd encounter(SRRiley):SRRiley)
[Tue Dec 17 2024]
At A Shrine to Alabaster-kami
Nestled in a corner of the shrine home's garden, the shrine to Alabaster blends with the garden and forest, open to the sky and bathed to sunlight, moonlight or the weather. A light breeze carries the scent of fresh blossoms and the subtle sweetness of incense that rises from a bronze censer placed at the base of the altar.
The shrine itself is an open pavilion, its roof supported by wooden beams in traditional Japanese architecture, with gracefully curved edges. The wood has been left untreated, to be weathered by the elements, leading to a natural, earthy tone that stands the greenery around it. Vines of wisteria and ivy climb the posts, their purple and green intertwining.
At the heart of the pavilion is a kamidana, a shinto altar, made of smooth, light cedar, raised on a stone platform that is subtly engraved with neat kanji. Seated at the center is a delicate statue of Alabaster, a womanly figure with a feline head poised in a seated position. Her body is smooth and white, while her eyes are set with lapis lazuli.
The shrine's offerings are placed by the altar with great care: a few bowls of fresh fish, fragrant sakaki branches, and a couple of mirrors that reflect the sky above. Alongside these are small jars of oils, finely woven linens, and a polished ankh placed at the statues feet. A bowl of milk sits at the base of the altar.
In front of the statue, a torii gate stands. Its crimson hue contrasts with the natural greens of the garden, and beyond it, the garden stretches into the wider grounds of the shrine to the north. The gate is adorned with charms and talismans bearing Shinto prayers and subtle Egyptian symbols.
Along the northern side, a small stone pathway winds back to the garden. Along the path, carved stone cats, as well as some neko statues, sit silently among the flowers and grasses.
It is night, about 35F(1C) degrees, and the sky is covered by dark grey stormclouds. There is a waning gibbous moon.
(A demon from hell has become interested in your target, they decide to see if they can tempt them into becoming one of their instruments on earth.
)
Ritsuka is really just hanging about today, there had been three operations that she's partook on today, and it is sort of in a post meditation, though there is not much on her mind today. A couple of small thoughts, processing the combats, and well, very much seeing that she is growing stronger and stronger. It has something that satisfies her deeply.
A fresh blanket of snow, left from the previous week's storms, lightly dusts the shrine. Overhead, the waning gibbous moon casts a pale, ghostly glow upon the scene, revealing a trail of footprints leading directly to Ritsuka, who rests within the sacred grounds. The hallowed shrine is intermittently swallowed by shadows as drifting clouds obscure the moons light. Slowly, the wind begins to rise, scattering the snow from certain surfaces only to deposit it elsewhere, forming small mounds. The slightly above-freezing temperature transforms portions of the once-fluffy snow into a dense, slushy mass in patches.
A fresh blanket of snow, left from the previous week's storms, lightly dusts the shrine. Overhead, the waning gibbous moon casts a pale, ghostly glow upon the scene, revealing a trail of footprints leading directly to Ritsuka, who rests within the sacred grounds. The hallowed shrine is intermittently swallowed by shadows as drifting clouds obscure the moons light. Slowly, the wind begins to rise, scattering the snow from certain surfaces only to deposit it elsewhere, forming small mounds. The slightly above-freezing temperature transforms portions of the once-fluffy snow into a dense, slushy mass in patches.
Behind Ritsuka, where her gaze cannot reach, a figure approaches through the shrine's grounds. His attire is entirely unsuited for the bitter weather. Small, circular rose quartz glasses perch on the bridge of his nose, barely large enough to obscure his eyes. His slicked-back blond hair glints faintly, gleaming as though freshly oiled. He wears a black suit paired with polished formal shoes and a dress shirt of a matching black that seems to swallow the light, his suit jacket draped casually over his shoulders, arms free of it's sleeves. A cigarette dangles from his lips, and with a sharp flick of his fingers, a tiny flame springs to life from the tip of his finger, igniting the tobacco. Strangely, his footsteps make no sound, the snow failing to yield the expected crunch beneath him. Instead, the only sign of his approach is the soft, steady hum of "House of the Rising Sun," its familiar melody carrying a strange, casual ease amidst the winter stillness. (Fixed I hope)
Alas, if there is one entirely unfamiliar with much of American culture, it would be Ritsuka, and so, when the humming becomes audible, golden eyes turn to look over her shoulder. Whichever way it was, she was safe here, protected and held by the Kami, and she for her own really does not wear clothing suitable for the snow either; at the least she was accustomed to the cold, a gentle kiss placed upon her cheek by She who was unremembered by many, who she remembered, and shall forever be remembered by. She breathes lightly through her nose, her gaze scrutinizing the man from foot to hair. Then her gaze returns to settle onto the altar of the small shrine. "I welcome you to the shrine of Alabaster-kami." She says, her intonation leaning still more to thoughtful.
In one hand she does hold her cheap burner phone, and there is a look that she gives it, though like ever, some situations just seem to take away the signal, as it appears it has here, too. That means that she slides the phone in somewhere, hides it away.
Taking a moment, the man brushes off his shoulders, some of the white powder that surrounds him and Ritsuka having fallen upon him during his trek to this shrine. He remains silent for a moment as he looks at her behind those glasses of his, his gaze lingering. Then, with a slight tilt of his head, he leans toward her, his vertically slitted, yellow, and ultimately inhuman eyes peering at her with fiery intensity from behind those rose quartz spectacles.
After adjusting his glasses, he speaks. His voice is deep and resonant, though its power is subdued, smooth, and calm, like a storm about to hit. "Hello, Ritsuka Shimomi. I have heard a lot about you..." he says, offering a subtle nod toward the shrine and the deity, Alabaster, to whom it is dedicated. His words hang in the air for a moment, as he then looks to her with a devilish grin, letting the weight of his words linger.
Ritsuka just cannot help but to let out a laugh, her lips form into a sinister small smile as her golden eyes only briefly stay on his. "Seeing as the raids have been ongoing for several weeks now, and how terrified many people are of me? But there is still plenty of information concealed from most." Her gaze returns back to the altar, and she remains where she is, lets the biting snow built on her shoulders, soak where it lands on her light clothing, oh and the latest change, wet her pink hair. "If you have studied me, it means I am either someone you wish to prey upon, or someone you want to make a deal with. Had it both happen already, the only question is, which of the two are you wanting of me?" She takes a deep breathe in through her nose, filling her lungs, and then brushes one of the bangs that frames her face behind an ear. "If you were to hunt, it would not be wise to find me where I am the most protected. What is it that you would like, and do you have name?" Bold.
"Feisty... just the type of... person I enjoy," the man says, a pause lingering as he emphasizes the word person. Quietly, he stalks forward, each step he takes towards Ritsuka making no sound, leaving no footprint in the powder below. His movements are deliberate, smooth, and almost eerie in their silence. He continues speaking, his steps measured, "You are right. I have come to make a deal, if you'd have it. A simple one... far more simple than many I'd offer with your amount of power.".
The man almost seems to chuckle as he adds, "I have watched through rock and bone and time as you've grown into the woman you are now... a brilliant, beautiful gem, really. I am jealous of you, Alabaster." His gaze shifts toward the shrine as he calls out toward it, a brief flicker of something dark passing over his features.
He finally stops, roughly eight feet from Ritsuka, taking a deep, overly exaggerated bow. One foot steps forward, a hand resting over his stomach, the other behind his back as he introduces himself. "Many refer to me as Ahriman, though that is, in truth... not my true name. I wouldn't want to lie to my client, now would I?" His bow hides a sickening, inhuman contortion of his face; something some might call a smile, but it vanishes the moment he rises again, leaving no trace of the twisted expression behind as his visage returns to Ritsuka's view.
"Shimomi Ritsuka," Ritsuka answers, making a dip of her head, though it is here that her eyes briefly close for a moment, and then she does rise and move and settle down in front of the altar, sitting down onto her knees. Her gaze has observed the inhuman features, but there is no surprise in them. She's become familiar enough fast, though whether her knowledge is enough to accurately tell what Ahriman is, well, that is always an entirely different question. There is suspicions, but when is it ever so easy, when mixed blood can exist and permeate in people. It has in her, and it has completely thrown apart how she might be perceived in what she is. Some had long called her demigoddess only, some fae. It doesn't really matter at the end of the day. Her gaze vaguely keeps on the demon now, though there is a conscious effort to entirely avoid eye contact here, and she allows for silence to reign. What does she really have to answer when she is being called client and an offer is meant to be provided, there is no use, and silence can be comforting.
Crunching rings out from behind Ahriman as his eyes remain fixed on Ritsuka, letting the silence stretch between them, thick with tension. The crunching grows louder, each step echoing in the quiet, until a woman, similarly dressed to the man but visibly shivering from the cold, arrives. In her hands, she carries a clipboard resting on a red satin pillow with golden trim. Upon it lies a piece of paper, beside it a fountain pen. She holds it out toward Ahriman, who shifts his gaze from Ritsuka to his presumed assistant. Her body ceases its shivering, going rigid under his look, the whole scene an affront to Alabaster within their own shrine.
Ahriman takes the pen and clipboard from the pillow, extending it toward Ritsuka with a smooth, almost casual motion. "Call me old-fashioned if you like," he says, his voice smooth, "the whole act of signing a contract, the theater that goes with it... it really does lend gravitas to the whole thing. The details of my offer are on the page. Sign if you wish. I have no means to force you, nor plans to." The woman, having delivered the clipboard, slowly trudges away, her steps soft but steady. Ahrimans gaze lifts from her and back to the seated form of Ritsuka, his hand flaunting the paper toward her in a manner almost playful, as though she were a dog, or perhaps, in this case, a fox.
Ritsuka gives a glance over the paper before she even considers it, glossing over page by page to get the gist of what is being offered to her, all while she permits for the silence to continue to stretch. Though he may try to treat her so, she does not lower, her shoulders remain straight and her grace her, at Alabaster's own, appears indomitable. It is very much a moment where she permits the divine blood to take the upper hand.
Upon the blackened paper, gold script elegantly flows, outlining the details of the contract in precise language. According to the contract, Ritsuka is required to remove one of her eyes, which she will then exchange with Ahriman's own. However, provisions within the contract specify that the eye provided will be flesh-shaped to resemble Ritsuka's own eye perfectly, ensuring that it will function just as naturally and without issue as the one it replaces. The only noted discomfort is a brief period during the exchange, which is described as temporary and manageable.
In exchange for this, Ahriman pledges to provide patronage to Ritsuka for as long as the agreement between them remains in place. This patronage, however, is vague, with only mentions of knowledge and power. The contract includes several clauses that grant Ritsuka a way out, should she wish to dissolve the agreement. There are no punishments outlined for breaching the contract, save for the removal of the eye that Ahriman had granted her in the same fashion it was placed there, but no mention of the return of her old one.
Ahriman's voice cuts through the stillness, smooth and taunting, "So? What will it be, daughter of Amaterasu? I believe the details are pretty clear, are they not?" with a grin, inhuman and unsettling, stretches across his face once more, ear to ear. It splits his visage apart, betraying his true nature, distorting the human facade he had so carefully maintained to this point. The twisted smile lingers, a grotesque reminder of what lies beneath his polished exterior.
"Ohirume no Muchi no Kami would not tolerate a deal with an Oni, Ahriman-san," Ritsuka answers evenly in Japanese, though her tone is higher, and even with the even note... it is... cute? But she is still polite and holds the clipboard out to be taken back again. Honorific used also very much, if understood, does not imply that she believes he is above her. "There is too much power that could be given, but I am already fine with Alabaster-kami's. I apologize, Ahriman-san, but I am not what you think I am. I am definitely not a gem, and you are mistaking me with a rock."
"Oh, very well..." Ahriman responds in Japanese, his voice smooth but with a dark edge. "I wanted a front seat to this show, but I suppose sitting in the sideline will have to do." The smile never leaves his face as his form begins to unravel. His disguise falls apart before someone eyes, his skin flakes, wrinkles, and shrivels in on itself. His hair falls out in clumps, exposing a scalp covered in countless eyes, all of which seem to lock onto Ritsuka, staring with an unnerving intensity. He gestures toward the direction the woman went, and she soon returns. One of her eyes is now locked onto Ritsuka, independent of her other, as she approaches with the pillow still in hand, holding it out to retrieve the contract. Ahriman's voice shifts, a legion of voices echoing in his throat, as he speaks with a chilling calmness, "Tell me though, your resistance to your nature; what is the point?"
"Oh, very well..." Ahriman responds in Japanese, his voice smooth but with a dark edge. "I wanted a front seat to this show, but I suppose sitting in the sideline will have to do." The smile never leaves his face as his form begins to unravel. His disguise falls apart before someone eyes, his skin flakes, wrinkles, and shrivels in on itself. His hair falls out in clumps, exposing a scalp covered in countless eyes, all of which seem to lock onto Ritsuka, staring with an unnerving intensity. He gestures toward the direction the woman went, and she soon returns. One of her eyes is now locked onto Ritsuka, independent of her other, as she approaches with the pillow still in hand, holding it out to retrieve the contract. Ahriman's voice shifts, a legion of voices echoing in his throat, as he speaks with a chilling calmness, "Tell me though, your resistance to your nature; what is the point?"
"Oh, very well..." Ahriman responds in Japanese, his voice smooth but with a dark edge. "I wanted a front seat to this show, but I suppose sitting in the sideline will have to do." The smile never leaves his face as his form begins to unravel. His disguise falls apart before Ritsuka's eyes, his skin flakes, wrinkles, and shrivels in on itself. His hair falls out in clumps, exposing a scalp covered in countless eyes, all of which seem to lock onto Ritsuka, staring with an unnerving intensity. He gestures toward the direction the woman went, and she soon returns. One of her eyes is now locked onto Ritsuka, independent of her other, as she approaches with the pillow still in hand, holding it out to retrieve the contract. Ahriman's voice shifts, a legion of voices echoing in his throat, as he speaks with a chilling calmness, "Tell me though, your resistance to your nature; what is the point?"
Ritsuka remains where she is with graceful ease, though her gaze grows a note more steady despite the grotesque display that now resides before her. She snaps the fingers of a hand and golden foxfire appears around her and surrounds the shrine. Her voice stays at the quiet, though, in Japanese, that fare higher cuteness. "My nature, Ahriman-san?" Her head but tilts a little bit, and she has to smile, there is amusement she cannot conceal. "It is not a weakness, as though yielding entirely is a path to power. What you see as resistance, is refinement. To burn like a wildfire, is destructive, short-lived and ultimately, to be consumed by one's own hunger." Her eyes flash a shade brighter, for a moment as the light of the radiant sun of the east starts to arouse around her. "I carry the sun's fire and the foxes knowing. I choose what I become. I decide how I burn and who I burn. That is the point." There is far too much ease when she then also adds "I do not mind if you watch from the Sidelines, Ahriman-san. Light does not cower in the presence of shadows, it consumes it."
Tsking a few times, Ahriman shakes his head. "As I said. I haven't any intention of forcing you to do anything. The hostility is oh so rude. I must advise against someone so young playing with fire though; it is so easy to get burned... and burns do leave marks, or so I've been told." A long, prehensile tongue snakes out of his mouth, licking a finger he brings before it. Once more, a flame flickers to life at its tip, then flicks off with a sharp spark.
"Regardless," Ahriman continues, "I would ask you not to harm the little miss here. She is quite important to me... she has a debt to be repaid after all, she owes me the next... let's call it twelve years of her life?" The girl looks to him with confusion in her one cooperative eye before his glare turns to her, the demon's rage apparent on his face. She performs her duty without distraction, flinching under his gaze. Ahriman licks his teeth, his voice now colder as he concludes, "If we've no deal to be struck, I shall take my leave, as disappointed as I am."
Demon pacts are quite tricky, and Ritsuka is certainly not entirely sure on how to make sure the girl could get out of it. All the same, she rises to her feet now and softly says. "You would be wise to let her go free, Ahiman-san. Would take her in predictably and you would get to observe more closely through her." But she makes no move to stop the departure, and then turns back to the altar. "There is no deal to be struck with me, I am already pacted." There are no farewells offered here.
Looking to Ritsuka with surprise upon his inhuman visage for the first time, Ahriman turns his gaze to his assistant. "You would receive none of my gifts if you took her with you. She is but a burden to anyone but me. Though your offer is... interesting. I shall consider it for another time, my dearest. Perhaps we will speak again before that fateful day, twelve years from now. I should hope so, for your sake."@line
With that, Ahriman turns away, the back of his scalp now visible, writhing masses of eyes covering the entirety of the back of his head, all turning to look at Ritsuka as he departs. As he walks, a hunch begins to form on his back. His assistant remains where she is, silent and still. Ahriman's steps remain soundless as he disappears into the surrounding darkness, leaving no traces of his presence; no noise, no footprints, signaling his dark arrival nor his silent departure, his assistant remaining there. As the demon leaves her eye returns to her control, along with her body, teeth chattering from the cold and her fingers turning blue. She mutters, "I cannot leave... until... you tell me to." between clenched teeth while avoiding Ritsuka's eyes.
"You may stay and accompany me," Ritsuka quietly answers, turning to the woman now. "I need you to put on something warmer while you are outdoors in winter." They are simple words, of course, but they say all they need. She does glance down to her phone, sending a few texts out. It won't be tonight, but if she is to stay, then she will be freed. And if that means that Ritsuka gains new property, there is definitely people much worse to be the property of.
The girl nods, her red hair glimmering a bit in the pale moon light as she looks to Ritsuka, then to the creature that walked away from them, or at least the direction he went. She continues talking, her voice quiet and filled with fear as she whispers, "You were smarter than me..." while rubbing the eye that betrayed her, "I'll go with you..." she continues before going silent. The state of her eye becomes more clear in the moonlight now that she is closer; a dark brown one, and a yellow eye not quite slitted but most certainly strange in it's appearance. She quietly follows Ritsuka wherever the woman may lead her.
Despite Ahriman's persuasive proposition, which entails exchanging an eye for vague promises of patronage, Ritsuka's resolve remains unshaken. Her refusal, articulated with a grace and strength drawn from her divine lineage, mirrors the essence of the sacred ground she occupies. The exchange, brimming with the subtle dance of power and resistance, culminates in Ritsuka asserting her identity and her path, unmoved by temptations of power or veiled threats. Ahriman, revealing the grotesque truth beneath his human facade, reluctantly accepts her decision. What follows is a quiet triumph for Ritsuka, who not only repels the demon's advances but also extends her protection to an unwitting accomplice caught in Ahriman's web, illustrating her inherent strength and kindness. As Ahriman recedes into the shadows from whence he came, Ritsuka's encounter at the shrine stands as a testament to her unwavering spirit and the power of choosing one's own fate, guided by the light amidst the encroaching darkness.
(Ritsuka's odd encounter(SRRiley):SRRiley)
[Tue Dec 17 2024]
At A Shrine to Alabaster-kami
Nestled in a corner of the shrine home's garden, the shrine to Alabaster blends with the garden and forest, open to the sky and bathed to sunlight, moonlight or the weather. A light breeze carries the scent of fresh blossoms and the subtle sweetness of incense that rises from a bronze censer placed at the base of the altar.
The shrine itself is an open pavilion, its roof supported by wooden beams in traditional Japanese architecture, with gracefully curved edges. The wood has been left untreated, to be weathered by the elements, leading to a natural, earthy tone that stands the greenery around it. Vines of wisteria and ivy climb the posts, their purple and green intertwining.
At the heart of the pavilion is a kamidana, a shinto altar, made of smooth, light cedar, raised on a stone platform that is subtly engraved with neat kanji. Seated at the center is a delicate statue of Alabaster, a womanly figure with a feline head poised in a seated position. Her body is smooth and white, while her eyes are set with lapis lazuli.
The shrine's offerings are placed by the altar with great care: a few bowls of fresh fish, fragrant sakaki branches, and a couple of mirrors that reflect the sky above. Alongside these are small jars of oils, finely woven linens, and a polished ankh placed at the statues feet. A bowl of milk sits at the base of the altar.
In front of the statue, a torii gate stands. Its crimson hue contrasts with the natural greens of the garden, and beyond it, the garden stretches into the wider grounds of the shrine to the north. The gate is adorned with charms and talismans bearing Shinto prayers and subtle Egyptian symbols.
Along the northern side, a small stone pathway winds back to the garden. Along the path, carved stone cats, as well as some neko statues, sit silently among the flowers and grasses.
It is night, about 35F(1C) degrees, and the sky is covered by dark grey stormclouds. There is a waning gibbous moon.
(A demon from hell has become interested in your target, they decide to see if they can tempt them into becoming one of their instruments on earth.
)
Ritsuka is really just hanging about today, there had been three operations that she's partook on today, and it is sort of in a post meditation, though there is not much on her mind today. A couple of small thoughts, processing the combats, and well, very much seeing that she is growing stronger and stronger. It has something that satisfies her deeply.
A fresh blanket of snow, left from the previous week's storms, lightly dusts the shrine. Overhead, the waning gibbous moon casts a pale, ghostly glow upon the scene, revealing a trail of footprints leading directly to Ritsuka, who rests within the sacred grounds. The hallowed shrine is intermittently swallowed by shadows as drifting clouds obscure the moons light. Slowly, the wind begins to rise, scattering the snow from certain surfaces only to deposit it elsewhere, forming small mounds. The slightly above-freezing temperature transforms portions of the once-fluffy snow into a dense, slushy mass in patches.
A fresh blanket of snow, left from the previous week's storms, lightly dusts the shrine. Overhead, the waning gibbous moon casts a pale, ghostly glow upon the scene, revealing a trail of footprints leading directly to Ritsuka, who rests within the sacred grounds. The hallowed shrine is intermittently swallowed by shadows as drifting clouds obscure the moons light. Slowly, the wind begins to rise, scattering the snow from certain surfaces only to deposit it elsewhere, forming small mounds. The slightly above-freezing temperature transforms portions of the once-fluffy snow into a dense, slushy mass in patches.
Behind Ritsuka, where her gaze cannot reach, a figure approaches through the shrine's grounds. His attire is entirely unsuited for the bitter weather. Small, circular rose quartz glasses perch on the bridge of his nose, barely large enough to obscure his eyes. His slicked-back blond hair glints faintly, gleaming as though freshly oiled. He wears a black suit paired with polished formal shoes and a dress shirt of a matching black that seems to swallow the light, his suit jacket draped casually over his shoulders, arms free of it's sleeves. A cigarette dangles from his lips, and with a sharp flick of his fingers, a tiny flame springs to life from the tip of his finger, igniting the tobacco. Strangely, his footsteps make no sound, the snow failing to yield the expected crunch beneath him. Instead, the only sign of his approach is the soft, steady hum of "House of the Rising Sun," its familiar melody carrying a strange, casual ease amidst the winter stillness. (Fixed I hope)
Alas, if there is one entirely unfamiliar with much of American culture, it would be Ritsuka, and so, when the humming becomes audible, golden eyes turn to look over her shoulder. Whichever way it was, she was safe here, protected and held by the Kami, and she for her own really does not wear clothing suitable for the snow either; at the least she was accustomed to the cold, a gentle kiss placed upon her cheek by She who was unremembered by many, who she remembered, and shall forever be remembered by. She breathes lightly through her nose, her gaze scrutinizing the man from foot to hair. Then her gaze returns to settle onto the altar of the small shrine. "I welcome you to the shrine of Alabaster-kami." She says, her intonation leaning still more to thoughtful.
In one hand she does hold her cheap burner phone, and there is a look that she gives it, though like ever, some situations just seem to take away the signal, as it appears it has here, too. That means that she slides the phone in somewhere, hides it away.
Taking a moment, the man brushes off his shoulders, some of the white powder that surrounds him and Ritsuka having fallen upon him during his trek to this shrine. He remains silent for a moment as he looks at her behind those glasses of his, his gaze lingering. Then, with a slight tilt of his head, he leans toward her, his vertically slitted, yellow, and ultimately inhuman eyes peering at her with fiery intensity from behind those rose quartz spectacles.
After adjusting his glasses, he speaks. His voice is deep and resonant, though its power is subdued, smooth, and calm, like a storm about to hit. "Hello, Ritsuka Shimomi. I have heard a lot about you..." he says, offering a subtle nod toward the shrine and the deity, Alabaster, to whom it is dedicated. His words hang in the air for a moment, as he then looks to her with a devilish grin, letting the weight of his words linger.
Ritsuka just cannot help but to let out a laugh, her lips form into a sinister small smile as her golden eyes only briefly stay on his. "Seeing as the raids have been ongoing for several weeks now, and how terrified many people are of me? But there is still plenty of information concealed from most." Her gaze returns back to the altar, and she remains where she is, lets the biting snow built on her shoulders, soak where it lands on her light clothing, oh and the latest change, wet her pink hair. "If you have studied me, it means I am either someone you wish to prey upon, or someone you want to make a deal with. Had it both happen already, the only question is, which of the two are you wanting of me?" She takes a deep breathe in through her nose, filling her lungs, and then brushes one of the bangs that frames her face behind an ear. "If you were to hunt, it would not be wise to find me where I am the most protected. What is it that you would like, and do you have name?" Bold.
"Feisty... just the type of... person I enjoy," the man says, a pause lingering as he emphasizes the word person. Quietly, he stalks forward, each step he takes towards Ritsuka making no sound, leaving no footprint in the powder below. His movements are deliberate, smooth, and almost eerie in their silence. He continues speaking, his steps measured, "You are right. I have come to make a deal, if you'd have it. A simple one... far more simple than many I'd offer with your amount of power.".
The man almost seems to chuckle as he adds, "I have watched through rock and bone and time as you've grown into the woman you are now... a brilliant, beautiful gem, really. I am jealous of you, Alabaster." His gaze shifts toward the shrine as he calls out toward it, a brief flicker of something dark passing over his features.
He finally stops, roughly eight feet from Ritsuka, taking a deep, overly exaggerated bow. One foot steps forward, a hand resting over his stomach, the other behind his back as he introduces himself. "Many refer to me as Ahriman, though that is, in truth... not my true name. I wouldn't want to lie to my client, now would I?" His bow hides a sickening, inhuman contortion of his face; something some might call a smile, but it vanishes the moment he rises again, leaving no trace of the twisted expression behind as his visage returns to Ritsuka's view.
"Shimomi Ritsuka," Ritsuka answers, making a dip of her head, though it is here that her eyes briefly close for a moment, and then she does rise and move and settle down in front of the altar, sitting down onto her knees. Her gaze has observed the inhuman features, but there is no surprise in them. She's become familiar enough fast, though whether her knowledge is enough to accurately tell what Ahriman is, well, that is always an entirely different question. There is suspicions, but when is it ever so easy, when mixed blood can exist and permeate in people. It has in her, and it has completely thrown apart how she might be perceived in what she is. Some had long called her demigoddess only, some fae. It doesn't really matter at the end of the day. Her gaze vaguely keeps on the demon now, though there is a conscious effort to entirely avoid eye contact here, and she allows for silence to reign. What does she really have to answer when she is being called client and an offer is meant to be provided, there is no use, and silence can be comforting.
Crunching rings out from behind Ahriman as his eyes remain fixed on Ritsuka, letting the silence stretch between them, thick with tension. The crunching grows louder, each step echoing in the quiet, until a woman, similarly dressed to the man but visibly shivering from the cold, arrives. In her hands, she carries a clipboard resting on a red satin pillow with golden trim. Upon it lies a piece of paper, beside it a fountain pen. She holds it out toward Ahriman, who shifts his gaze from Ritsuka to his presumed assistant. Her body ceases its shivering, going rigid under his look, the whole scene an affront to Alabaster within their own shrine.
Ahriman takes the pen and clipboard from the pillow, extending it toward Ritsuka with a smooth, almost casual motion. "Call me old-fashioned if you like," he says, his voice smooth, "the whole act of signing a contract, the theater that goes with it... it really does lend gravitas to the whole thing. The details of my offer are on the page. Sign if you wish. I have no means to force you, nor plans to." The woman, having delivered the clipboard, slowly trudges away, her steps soft but steady. Ahrimans gaze lifts from her and back to the seated form of Ritsuka, his hand flaunting the paper toward her in a manner almost playful, as though she were a dog, or perhaps, in this case, a fox.
Ritsuka gives a glance over the paper before she even considers it, glossing over page by page to get the gist of what is being offered to her, all while she permits for the silence to continue to stretch. Though he may try to treat her so, she does not lower, her shoulders remain straight and her grace her, at Alabaster's own, appears indomitable. It is very much a moment where she permits the divine blood to take the upper hand.
Upon the blackened paper, gold script elegantly flows, outlining the details of the contract in precise language. According to the contract, Ritsuka is required to remove one of her eyes, which she will then exchange with Ahriman's own. However, provisions within the contract specify that the eye provided will be flesh-shaped to resemble Ritsuka's own eye perfectly, ensuring that it will function just as naturally and without issue as the one it replaces. The only noted discomfort is a brief period during the exchange, which is described as temporary and manageable.
In exchange for this, Ahriman pledges to provide patronage to Ritsuka for as long as the agreement between them remains in place. This patronage, however, is vague, with only mentions of knowledge and power. The contract includes several clauses that grant Ritsuka a way out, should she wish to dissolve the agreement. There are no punishments outlined for breaching the contract, save for the removal of the eye that Ahriman had granted her in the same fashion it was placed there, but no mention of the return of her old one.
Ahriman's voice cuts through the stillness, smooth and taunting, "So? What will it be, daughter of Amaterasu? I believe the details are pretty clear, are they not?" with a grin, inhuman and unsettling, stretches across his face once more, ear to ear. It splits his visage apart, betraying his true nature, distorting the human facade he had so carefully maintained to this point. The twisted smile lingers, a grotesque reminder of what lies beneath his polished exterior.
"Ohirume no Muchi no Kami would not tolerate a deal with an Oni, Ahriman-san," Ritsuka answers evenly in Japanese, though her tone is higher, and even with the even note... it is... cute? But she is still polite and holds the clipboard out to be taken back again. Honorific used also very much, if understood, does not imply that she believes he is above her. "There is too much power that could be given, but I am already fine with Alabaster-kami's. I apologize, Ahriman-san, but I am not what you think I am. I am definitely not a gem, and you are mistaking me with a rock."
"Oh, very well..." Ahriman responds in Japanese, his voice smooth but with a dark edge. "I wanted a front seat to this show, but I suppose sitting in the sideline will have to do." The smile never leaves his face as his form begins to unravel. His disguise falls apart before someone eyes, his skin flakes, wrinkles, and shrivels in on itself. His hair falls out in clumps, exposing a scalp covered in countless eyes, all of which seem to lock onto Ritsuka, staring with an unnerving intensity. He gestures toward the direction the woman went, and she soon returns. One of her eyes is now locked onto Ritsuka, independent of her other, as she approaches with the pillow still in hand, holding it out to retrieve the contract. Ahriman's voice shifts, a legion of voices echoing in his throat, as he speaks with a chilling calmness, "Tell me though, your resistance to your nature; what is the point?"
"Oh, very well..." Ahriman responds in Japanese, his voice smooth but with a dark edge. "I wanted a front seat to this show, but I suppose sitting in the sideline will have to do." The smile never leaves his face as his form begins to unravel. His disguise falls apart before someone eyes, his skin flakes, wrinkles, and shrivels in on itself. His hair falls out in clumps, exposing a scalp covered in countless eyes, all of which seem to lock onto Ritsuka, staring with an unnerving intensity. He gestures toward the direction the woman went, and she soon returns. One of her eyes is now locked onto Ritsuka, independent of her other, as she approaches with the pillow still in hand, holding it out to retrieve the contract. Ahriman's voice shifts, a legion of voices echoing in his throat, as he speaks with a chilling calmness, "Tell me though, your resistance to your nature; what is the point?"
"Oh, very well..." Ahriman responds in Japanese, his voice smooth but with a dark edge. "I wanted a front seat to this show, but I suppose sitting in the sideline will have to do." The smile never leaves his face as his form begins to unravel. His disguise falls apart before Ritsuka's eyes, his skin flakes, wrinkles, and shrivels in on itself. His hair falls out in clumps, exposing a scalp covered in countless eyes, all of which seem to lock onto Ritsuka, staring with an unnerving intensity. He gestures toward the direction the woman went, and she soon returns. One of her eyes is now locked onto Ritsuka, independent of her other, as she approaches with the pillow still in hand, holding it out to retrieve the contract. Ahriman's voice shifts, a legion of voices echoing in his throat, as he speaks with a chilling calmness, "Tell me though, your resistance to your nature; what is the point?"
Ritsuka remains where she is with graceful ease, though her gaze grows a note more steady despite the grotesque display that now resides before her. She snaps the fingers of a hand and golden foxfire appears around her and surrounds the shrine. Her voice stays at the quiet, though, in Japanese, that fare higher cuteness. "My nature, Ahriman-san?" Her head but tilts a little bit, and she has to smile, there is amusement she cannot conceal. "It is not a weakness, as though yielding entirely is a path to power. What you see as resistance, is refinement. To burn like a wildfire, is destructive, short-lived and ultimately, to be consumed by one's own hunger." Her eyes flash a shade brighter, for a moment as the light of the radiant sun of the east starts to arouse around her. "I carry the sun's fire and the foxes knowing. I choose what I become. I decide how I burn and who I burn. That is the point." There is far too much ease when she then also adds "I do not mind if you watch from the Sidelines, Ahriman-san. Light does not cower in the presence of shadows, it consumes it."
Tsking a few times, Ahriman shakes his head. "As I said. I haven't any intention of forcing you to do anything. The hostility is oh so rude. I must advise against someone so young playing with fire though; it is so easy to get burned... and burns do leave marks, or so I've been told." A long, prehensile tongue snakes out of his mouth, licking a finger he brings before it. Once more, a flame flickers to life at its tip, then flicks off with a sharp spark.
"Regardless," Ahriman continues, "I would ask you not to harm the little miss here. She is quite important to me... she has a debt to be repaid after all, she owes me the next... let's call it twelve years of her life?" The girl looks to him with confusion in her one cooperative eye before his glare turns to her, the demon's rage apparent on his face. She performs her duty without distraction, flinching under his gaze. Ahriman licks his teeth, his voice now colder as he concludes, "If we've no deal to be struck, I shall take my leave, as disappointed as I am."
Demon pacts are quite tricky, and Ritsuka is certainly not entirely sure on how to make sure the girl could get out of it. All the same, she rises to her feet now and softly says. "You would be wise to let her go free, Ahiman-san. Would take her in predictably and you would get to observe more closely through her." But she makes no move to stop the departure, and then turns back to the altar. "There is no deal to be struck with me, I am already pacted." There are no farewells offered here.
Looking to Ritsuka with surprise upon his inhuman visage for the first time, Ahriman turns his gaze to his assistant. "You would receive none of my gifts if you took her with you. She is but a burden to anyone but me. Though your offer is... interesting. I shall consider it for another time, my dearest. Perhaps we will speak again before that fateful day, twelve years from now. I should hope so, for your sake."@line
With that, Ahriman turns away, the back of his scalp now visible, writhing masses of eyes covering the entirety of the back of his head, all turning to look at Ritsuka as he departs. As he walks, a hunch begins to form on his back. His assistant remains where she is, silent and still. Ahriman's steps remain soundless as he disappears into the surrounding darkness, leaving no traces of his presence; no noise, no footprints, signaling his dark arrival nor his silent departure, his assistant remaining there. As the demon leaves her eye returns to her control, along with her body, teeth chattering from the cold and her fingers turning blue. She mutters, "I cannot leave... until... you tell me to." between clenched teeth while avoiding Ritsuka's eyes.
"You may stay and accompany me," Ritsuka quietly answers, turning to the woman now. "I need you to put on something warmer while you are outdoors in winter." They are simple words, of course, but they say all they need. She does glance down to her phone, sending a few texts out. It won't be tonight, but if she is to stay, then she will be freed. And if that means that Ritsuka gains new property, there is definitely people much worse to be the property of.
The girl nods, her red hair glimmering a bit in the pale moon light as she looks to Ritsuka, then to the creature that walked away from them, or at least the direction he went. She continues talking, her voice quiet and filled with fear as she whispers, "You were smarter than me..." while rubbing the eye that betrayed her, "I'll go with you..." she continues before going silent. The state of her eye becomes more clear in the moonlight now that she is closer; a dark brown one, and a yellow eye not quite slitted but most certainly strange in it's appearance. She quietly follows Ritsuka wherever the woman may lead her.