𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚕_𝚌𝚘𝚍𝚎𝚡.𝚝𝚡𝚝

pics, graphics, you named it

Reducio

X—X
I—II
credits by me *proud*



credit by Amalie Leclerc



credit by Seraphina Ashford



credit by Evander H. Beauchamp



credit by Lily Young



credit by Ophelia Vanderbilt



credit by Chatt Auclair



credit by Julia Evans/Emmeline Harris

a not-exactly-your-kind-of bedtime story

Reducio

The Twin and The Sweets-Giver Granny

___My mom used to read me a bedtime story when I was a kid. Every night without a fail. From the mainstream dreamy princess stories like Cinderella or Snow White, the magical one like in Peter Pan, and the scary beast like in Red Riding Hood. As I remembered, I liked and enjoyed all of the stories my mom told me. Until I turned ten years old, I begged her to stopped doing so, thought that I'm not a kid anymore.
___Long story short, I've got my diploma and started looking for a job not far from my childhood home. Met a nice guy couple years ago and decided to marry. And now, my new little happy family completed with my children Allen (the older) and Casey (the younger). My mom, who I and my husband decided to stay with us after my dad's passing, loved to play with her grandchildren and continuing her habit as she did to me to read a bedtime story to the twin. Since I was sometimes quite busy with my job and my husband recently got promoted, we just glad that their grandma is there with our children. But sadly, she didn't have much chance to do so once she diagnosed with stroke and followed my dad to the heaven five monts later.
___In that time, I felt the despair I've never feel about. It took quite some time for me to recover and gave a final choice to focus with my children. I took them to their playground, watching them played with another children while I was sitting arround other parents, talking this and that. On our back home, I took the time to stopped by at the nearest convenience store, buying them their favorite snacks.
___It was just another Tuesday, I was preparing the twin's lunch. For some reason, both of them getting more chattier than usual even their voices can be heard when they were still in their rooms, which was just upstairs of the kitchen. Once lunch ready, I called them, and they sat, still with their chatty mouth.
___"What're you guys talking about?" I asked them.
___"Granny Em gave us this delicious cookies," Casey said enthusiastically while pulling out a small plastic pouch from her jacket, shows me a homemade choco chips cookies inside.
___"And tomorrow, she promises will give us candies if we came back to her place!" Allen exclaimed while took a feed of his own lunch.
___I'd said nothing at what they just said. Granny Em, or Emeline, is our neighbour. She actually older than my parents, and I actually haven't see her again these days. She lives alone. Her children has their own live and job in another country and could only came back when Thanksgiving or Christmas. While my children mentioned her, I then took an initiative to have a visit myself after this, giving her some pasta as a thank you for the sweets she gave to Allen and Casey.
___"Hello, Em?" I knocked on her back door since she liked to watching her garden, but strangely it seems unkempt. "Emeline? It's me! Are you there?" I knocked louder this time, and tried to peeked inside from the window. Curtain closed tight.
___Then suddenly, I smelled something that obviously not from my pasta nor even the unkempt garden around this backyard of Em's. It's sort of foul smell that I reflexively closed my nose with my free hand. Shock, stunned at the same time, I quickly turned back home. Fast. And called the police immediately.

Reducio

Jump, Jump, Knock

___"No, it's real," my friend put on the uncommon serious face. "I heard the voice. The sound like someone jumping. Just outside my house. Around nine or ten at night."
___We looked at each other, gulped.
___Just moment ago, we're gossiping about the rumor of ghost that terrorizing our neighborhood lately. It is still unsure yet but for the some part of us in X Block or XX Block had said that it was true. Including this one of friends of mine. Her house actually quite far from mine so, yeah, I still doubting her remarks since I have heard nothing around my own block.
___"But the other said it also knocked your door and said salam just like ordinary guest?" asked another friends of mine.
___"Dunno. Maybe it came to another house which is not mine. I heard nothing beside that jumping sound."
___Again, we're looking at each other. Speechless. Don't know what to say anymore. Until our homeroom teacher enter the class and the first lesson for today had officially begun.
___At night, maybe around eight, I'm watching TV with my parents. My favorite broadcast, actually, that listing sevens interesting things per each theme randomly per session of commercial ads. It got interesting when it is Thursday night because the theme specifically focusing on horror or mystery topics. But since today is Monday, topic for today is about places around the world I've never been around before.
___I got sleepy when the clock reach nine, and my Mom already pushed me to brushed my teeth and prepare to go to sleep. I go to the restroom quick—I just hate this tiny, narrow, and quite dark toilet of us—and walked back to my room.
___But before I hit the bed, I suddenly heard the loud knock. From the front door of my house! We're sure of it because my room is not that far from it and my parents still in their place where I left them while watching TV, only the lamp had turned off.
___The knocked sounds off. Like it forced strongly by a somewhat huge thing banging on the door, not by hand. I stomped out off my room, nervously looking at my parents who also confused by it. When they just stay still like that, the act I knows well they intended to ignore whoever come at this late, the we heard a low, hoarse voice of salam coming just behind that door. My parents looking at each other, but I suddenly freaked out.
___I quickly grabbed my dad's hand who seems like to opens that door, gripped his hand tight, and shaking my head vigorously. He looking at me full of question, but I just shakes my head nonstop, tightening my sealed lips to each other.
___The knocked still repeated, the salam said once more. Until we heard our neighbor come out of his house just beside us; shouts, insults, and read a prayers loudly and until the knocked behind our door disappear out of thin air.
___Only in that moment I loose my grip on my dad's hand as he finally open the door and talking to our neighbor who still outside.
___And for tonight, I don't want to sleep alone.

Reducio

disclaimer-contents contained violence

Reducio

please give some feedback if you see fit
pure my ideas but still full of translator's language

Reducio

please don't be a thief!

Reducio

___He ran. Kept running. He didn’t care that his breath had gone short. Didn’t care that his pulse was spiraling out of control. Both arms clutched his Sako 85 tight against his chest. His eyes strained against the dark, trying to read the terrain as he pushed forward.
___His boots scraped against the ground as he came to a sudden stop, doubling back and slipping behind a stack of logs just ahead. He pressed himself flat against them. One hand clamped over his mouth to muffle his breathing.
___He shut his eyes for a second. Forced himself to steady. Then let out a slow, controlled exhale.
___Silence. It held, just for a moment.
___Then he heard it.
___Footsteps. Dry leaves crackling under weight.
___His ears sharpened instinctively. The part of him that knew exactly what he was supposed to be doing out here finally surfaced.
___The steps drew closer.
___Closer.
___His finger slid onto the safety. Ready. His breathing slow. Matched his heartbeat.
___Then came a sound.
___Smooth. Almost gentle. Cutting through the air from directly behind him.
___The exact direction he hadn’t expected.
___Didn’t mattered now. The arrow was already there. Buried deep in his skull. Driven clean through. He could see the tip of it himself, jutting out between his eyes.
___For a split second, everything went still.
___No pain. No thought. Just shock.
___Until he collapsed.
___A large, rough hand appeared from behind. Grabbed him by the hair, lifting his head off the ground. The face remain frozen in that final moment. Eyes wide. Breath gone for good.
___The man’s attention shifted to the shotgun still clutched in the dead hunter’s arms. He pried it loose, turned it over in his hands, studying it for a moment before stripping out every round and pocketing them.
___He was about to leave when another sound reached him. Five o’clock.
___He turned around.
___A figure stood there. Motionless. Staring at the body.
___He watched. Reading what came next. Waited.
___When that figure finally moved, letting his bow slip from his hand and stumbling backward, he stepped forward.
___Fear hadn’t left that figure yet. His legs gave out, hit the ground hard, scrambling backward until his spine slammed into a tree. He cursed inwardly.
___However, his pursuer stopped a few feet away. Pick up the bow. Turned it over in his hands, the same way he had studied the shotgun. Slow, almost appreciative. Like he was admiring a fine craftsman¬ship.
___Minutes passed, he looked back at the bow’s owner who had already begun to beg for his life.
___“Please,” he stammered. “I swear I won’t come here anymore.”
___The pursuer closed the distance. Crouched down until they were level.
___“This is a fine bow you have here,” he said. His voice low. Even. Almost colorless. “Where’d you get it?”
___The question caught him off guard. Still, he answered, voice shaking, “I—I made it myself.”
___A pause.
___“Really?” he hummed. “That’s quite a skill.”
___The man suddenly grabbed his hand and pulled him to his feet. Panic surged again. He pressed himself back against the tree, not sure what was coming.
___But it never came.
___Instead, the bow was held out to him. Returned.
___“Alright,” his pursuer said. “I won’t end you.”
___A beat passed.
___“Only if you’ll work for me. How’s that sound?”
___The answer came immediately. A desperate nod. Survival came first. Everything else could wait.

Reducio

please give some feedback if you see fit
pure my ideas but still full of translator's language

Reducio

please don't be a thief!

Reducio

___“Thank you.”
___She lifted up the hood of her cloak as she walked away with her basket filled with everything she needed. With the long hood covering half of her face, she walked quickly through the crowd of townfolks that filled the market that day. When her ears caught the familiar noise, she bowed her head even lower as she tried hard to blend in with the surrounding pedestrians, hoping that her existence would not trigger an unnecessary conflict with the groups of hunters who had just returned from the forest, carrying their prey with their chests puffed out.
___“Is that all you got? Are you feeling unwell?”
___“Watch your mouth! If that damn thing hadn’t suddenly blocked my path, I’d already have the heads of the witches in Nymhosa.”
___Both of her hands gripped the basket tightly as the hunters’ noisy voices slipped into her ears. She said nothing, nor did she react as if she felt offended by what they had just said without much thought or mercy. She just kept walking, eyes narrowed as she memorized their vicious faces until the road she was walking on forced her to divert her attention from them.
___As her feet carried her further away to a place that was rarely visited by townfolks, she glanced cautiously in all directions before opening her mouth slightly and whispering, “Explico,” as her feet continued to step steadily on the rocky path. Shortly after that, her mouth murmured again, this time with a different spell, “Absum,” as she slowly cracked a smile upon seeing a woman not much younger than her waving enthusiastically at her.
___“Willona! Come here quickly!”
___Willona lowered her hood and walked towards her friend who seemed so excited to show her something. When they were finally close enough, without thinking twice, the honey-haired woman grabbed Willona’s hand and took her to a hut with its chimney that constantly emitted a pleasant aroma.
___“Look!” she exclaimed to Willona, pointing to the row of her bonsai pots. Her smile widened when she saw her friend’s eyes widen in surprise at what was in front of her. “What did you say to me back then? That it might grow slower than its friends? But in fact, I managed to make it grow, even faster than the other seedlings you gave me on the same day you gave me this bonsai!”
___“But how ...?” Willona carefully reached out her hand, pointing her fingertips to touch the trunk and leaves of the bonsai in front of her eyes. Then she turned her attention to her friend who was still flashing a wide smile, asking with raised eyebrows, “What did you give it, Myrna?”
___Myrna quickly walked to the kitchen, grabbing a pitcher with steam still rising from it. With a look of pride on her face, Myrna held out her hand so Willona could see the liquid inside. “Rosemary tea mixed with thyme and a pinch of turmeric. Have no worry, I saved some for you.”
___Giggling, Willona couldn’t help but comply with Myrna’s offer. Without even waiting for her confirmation, Myrna poured the water from the pitcher into a wooden cup and added a few jasmine petals to enhance the floral aroma. And it wouldn’t be Myrna if she didn’t have a supply of cookies in her kitchen. With a few jars of cookies and cups of herb tea each on the table, the two women enjoyed their afternoon snacks with light conversation.
___“I don’t want to hear your refusal again this time, Willona, you have to come to the festival with me tomorrow!”
___“Alright, fine, I will come,” said Willona as she placed her cup back on the table. “But only after I deliver my herbs and they give me money that is worth what I bring.”
___“Ah,” Myrna pursed her lips, looking at Willona with sympathy. “How much did you earn before?”
___Willona leaned back in her chair, massaged her temples, and replied in a helpless voice, “No more than half a nekros.”
___“Pardon?!”
___“Yes, I know,” Willona sighed. “I mean, if it were just regular crushed herbs, I wouldn’t mind the price, but that also includes balm, and even the other ingredients are not close enough costs with just a few dormitos.”
___Hearing this, Myrna frowned. She looked at her friend as if she had just said the craziest thing she had ever heard in her life. “Are you serious? That is still too cheap, Willona. You can set a higher price than that. Rather, if you keep doing this, I cannot imagine you being able to survive even if you only depend on what you grow yourself.”
___Blinking her eyes, Willona muttered, “Is that so? I thought that if I set a higher price than that, it would only make it harder for those who really need it.”
___Myrna didn’t respond. More or less, she could understand Willona’s way of thinking. They had known each other for quite a long time, that’s why. If she could compare her to a high deity, Myrna would not hesitate to admit it. The Willona that Myrna knew always prioritized the interests of others—especially if they were weaker and seemed to really need help, even if they were only pretending—rather than her own interests first. Myrna had told and reminded Willona several times, but it seemed that this trait was already ingrained in her friend, even though Myrna was sure that Willona herself knew that their group was often looked down upon by others.
___It is no secret that witches are excluded from society. The main reason for this is that people do not truly understand them. All they know, and all they want to know, is that the powers witches possess can harm others. Of course, this assumption is very offensive to witches, since not every witches have the power to do such things. People may not even know that many of the medicines, foods, and household items they use and consume are made by the hands of witches, whom they consider being nothing more than beings who can only cast spells to bring misery to others.
___But what else could they do? This assumption was so deeply ingrained in their community that there was no other solution but to secure their small settlement behind a protective veil that was invisible to anyone but the witches themselves.
___As dusk approached, Willona retired from Myrna’s hut before she had no time to tend to her plants, since some of which could only be cared for a few moments before sunset. Her house was not far away, less than ten steps away from Myrna’s. Her garden was located right in the backyard, a strategic position that directly met the forest area to the west. The forest itself always accommodated her needs, except during the winter when it was inhabited only by animals and ferocious monsters. And now it was autumn, the time when Willona had to prepare to harvest and store all her stock, or everything would freeze in the biting cold of winter that pierced the skin every year.
___“Hello, friends, I hope I’m not too late.”
___Willona placed her basket on top of her wooden supply chest while she crouched down to draw water from the barrel for her plants’. One by one, Willona watered her plants without leaving a single plant dry untouched. After finishing watering the plants, she set aside her watering can, stepping back, and standing at the edge of her garden plot.
___“Bellus’a fecunda,” Willona chanted her favorite customization spell, eyes scanning each of her plants as they swayed gently in the soft breeze blowing from the forest. Taking a strand of her hair that also had been blown by the wind and tucking it behind her ear, Willona smiled and nodded contentedly. “Thank you, friends. I will see you again tomorrow.”
___Taking back the basket containing her groceries, Willona entered her hut and immediately lit the fireplace to warm and light her home. She also lighting a few candles—each about a finger’s length tall remain—in several corners of her home. The hut finally looked more lively and, of course, warm. Placing the pot filled with water on the fireplace, Willona then cooked her dinner while also preparing another pot for making her medicinal herbs.
___“Huh? I’m sure I bought cinnamon along with the others ….”
___As Willona was frantically searching for the missing cinnamon, suddenly there was a knock on the window right behind her. Turning her head, she found an owl tapping on her kitchen window with its beak. Willona quickly opened the window for her familiar who was carrying the object she was looking for in its beak.
___“Eiwyn! Where did you find this?” asked Willona as she took the cinnamon sticks from the owl’s beak and immediately threw them into the large and small pot.
___“In the backyard. I saw a mischievous squirrel take it from your basket while you were busy watering the plants.”
___“Oh, is that so?” Refocusing her attention on her familiar, she opened a small jar on the table and gave a slice of dried meat as a reward to the owl, which it immediately accepted with pleasure. “Thank you. However, you didn’t play with the squirrel, did you?”
___Staring at her for a moment, Eiwyn then turned its head away without answering Willona’s question, then flew off and perched on the hanging rack above her bed. Willona sighed, letting Eiwyn act innocent as if it knew nothing.
___“I also saw an unusual bird migration from the east. Is it time yet?”
___“Not yet, but time is getting close, yes. You must already know who is causing it,” Willona muttered as she carefully scooped her soup, which was still hot. “As long as the balance of the animals is still maintained, I do not think there is anything to worry about from the hunters. Just leave everything to Zetta, at least until she gives us the news or when she decided to come here herself.”
___Eiwyn the owl responded only with a soft hoot before positioning itself as comfortable as possible on the hanging rack and slowly closing its eyes. Willona stared at it silently for a few moments, confused as to why the owl fell asleep faster than she did. However, the sound of boiling water from the small pot redirected her focus back to the main task she had to complete, or else tomorrow she wouldn’t be able to deliver anything, which meant she wouldn’t earn a single coin to survive.

___“Willona, wake up! There is a new face I do not recognize approaching the forest.”
___Startled by the flapping of Eiwyn’s wings right in front of her face, Willona suddenly sat up and almost fell backward if her back hadn’t immediately touched the wall. Realizing that she had fallen asleep at her kitchen table instead of in her small but comfortable bed, Willona groaned as she stretched her body, which was starting to feel sore. Eiwyn, who was a little impatient, flapped its wings again, giving Willona a second warning about what it had found during its night watch.
___“What do you mean, Eiwyn? Is there a new witch coming here?”
___“No. He is a man. His movements seem cautious, looks likely a hunter.”
___Hearing that, Willona immediately woke up completely. With a slight frown, she muttered the contents of her mind in a questioning whisper, “I remember closing the barrier right after I entered yesterday. If he came from the forest, he would only circle a few miles from that willow tree. He did not come any closer than he should have, right, Eiwyn?”
___“Yes. But from what I observed, he constantly paused to peer at the barrier that leads directly here, your garden. I doubt he can see through the barrier, but I fear he might realize there is a dwelling behind what he sees as a dark, void forest.”
___“What makes you think that?” asked Willona, staring intently at her familiar.
___“I’m not sure either,” Eiwyn replied ambiguosly. “I just know that he is not an ordinary townfolk, and ... I don’t know, I feel an unpleasant energy when I’m near him.”
___That was strange, she thought. First, Willona had never encountered anyone except her fellow witches and their familiar, let alone a hunter, who had come this close and almost approached the barrier. Second, this was the first time Eiwyn had made such a subjective assessment of anyone, especially someone it had just met for the first time. Even with bandits, Eiwyn would only judge them to be bandits if it had seen the evidence first, not just based on a strange, undescribable feeling. Eiwyn was often annoying, sure, but it was still a competent and wise familiar who knew which threats it could handle itself and which ones Willona needed to know about so it could prevent things from getting worse.
___“Um, alright, I trust your judgment. So, I hope you can help handle it while I’m gone?”
___Eiwyn watched as Willona quickly changed clothes and packed up the work she’d done all night. Until she opened the window that faced directly to her garden in the backyard, she gently stroked Eiwyn’s head and added, “I won’t be home until night since Myrna stubbornly invited me to a festival. So at least until I get home, please help me keep an eye out so that whoever it is doesn’t move any closer to here.”
___With that, Willona left, carrying her bag full of her own concoctions and other herbs that had been processed a few days earlier. Meanwhile, Eiwyn flew through the window Willona had opened, watching the woman until she disappeared from the protective veil, then it flew toward its own destination in the opposite direction from Willona.
___Lifting her hood, Willona quickened her pace as she reached the street that was beginning to fill with townfolks heading towards the always bustling market, regardless of whether it was morning, afternoon, or night. Ignoring the tempting aromas from the newly opened food stalls, Willona immediately turned and entered a humble pharmacy building on the corner of the street.
___Behind the counter, an old man with a perpetually sour face slid his glasses down his nose to look at Willona as she entered his shop. Ignoring what he was doing for a moment, he observed Willona, who smiled politely while clutching her bag tightly. Even before Willona showed him what she had in her bag, the old man could already smell the herbal scent that he knew by heart from the moment she entered his shop. However, because he fundamentally distrusted any herbs made by anyone other than himself, regardless of the fact that Willona was a witch and he knew it, the man closely observed every herbal concoctions Willona took out on his table without even listening to a word she said when she faced him.
___“Hmph,” the old man snorted after examining every packet of herbs presented before him, then counted how many Willona had given him. “I’ll give you five drokus per packet. That’s a total of seven dormitos and five drokus for the fifteen packets you gave me.”
___Willona smiled contentedly. The old man before her clearly knew and understood exactly what she had given him, unlike another owner of the pharmacy she had visited previously. In her heart, Willona regretted not coming here earlier just because she heard the rumour that the owner of this pharmacy was known to be unfriendly, even though the quality of what he sold was above average and often sold to the nobility. Willona then promised herself not ever to judge people by their appearance first anymore.
___And because the price offered to her here was quite good, Willona then took out her other concoctions, abondoning her initial plan to sell them separately to different places. At that moment, Willona could see the surprise in the eyes of the old man, even if only for the slightest, before he returned his attention to the bottle she was showing him.
___“Arugula oil?” The pharmacy owner suddenly looked up from the bottle in his hand at Willona who reflexively nodded her head. Adjusting his glasses, the old man once again sniffed the scent presented to his nose. “And spices?”
___“Yes, allspice,” Willona corrected, eyes sparkling. “In large quantities, the aroma would be too pungent, so I only sprinkled the right amount.”
___Closing the bottle in his hand, the old man was then silent for quite a while. He had never encountered such good quality as this, even from the pupils he had taught long before he decided to open this pharmacy. It would be such a shame if herbs this good, with a quality he didn’t need to question anymore based on his own experience for over decades, were not widely distributed. The old man gripped the bottle tightly, staring intently at Willona who stood waiting with a hint of nervousness.
___“I’ll take eight drokus per bottle. How many do you have?”
___“I—I only made five,” Willona, somewhat taken aback, quickly took out four more bottles identical to the one the old man was holding.
___Willona nervously watched as the old man nodded, then pushed the bottles aside as he turning his attention to her last product, which she had packed in a tiny wooden box. The old man muttered to himself, glanced at her, then brought his nose close to the box.
___“Take out everything you have.”
___Without saying much, Willona obeyed and took out two more boxes, and that was the last item she contained in her bag, leaving it completely empty now. Arranging the items on his desk according to their groups, the old man began to count.
___“Seven dormitos and five drokus for dried herbs, four dormitos and five drokus for the oils, two dormitos and seven drokus for the balms,” the old man deftly moved his fingers to count, while he also opening his drawer to take out his coins. “Here one nekros, four dormitos, and seven drokus in total. Huh. You’re the only one who can really drain me this much, Miss.”
___“Thank you very much!” Willona said gratefully as she scooped up the coins the old man had placed before her.
___“Come back here again with your other oils and ointments,” said the pharmacy owner before Willona left.
___Staring at him in somewhat disbelief, Willona couldn’t help but smile widely before she finally left, once again expressing her deepest gratitude.
___Smiling, Willona walked down to the street with light steps. She tried to keep her face neutral so as not to attract the attention of thieves who always took advantage of any opportunity, anywhere and anytime. Remembering the last time Myrna told her where she would be, Willona stepped into the area where people were cooking food to be served at tonight’s festival.
___“Ah, not now! It’s better to pour it later just before the festival starts, so it stays fresh.”
___Recognizing Myrna’s voice from the bright red tented stall across the street, Willona stopped just before the carts carrying goods passed right in front of her. Seeing Myrna and her friends busy cooking, Willona decided to turn around and spend her time looking at the decorations along the area that had not yet been fully installed, with the busy streets filled with shopkeepers who would enliven tonight’s festival.
___“I told you so! You shouldn’t have taken my route! Look now, you’ve gotten karma and only got a fox while I got a big, fat wild boar. Ahahaha!”
___“Well, I wasn’t really aiming for a big target anyway.”
___“Hah! If you’re upset, just say so. You’re jealous of me, aren’t you?”
___“I already told you I’m not—Watch out!”
___So engrossed in watching several women arranging their stalls with fresh flowers of various colors and shapes, Willona didn’t realize she was blocking the path until she saw the hunter carrying a wild boar on his back bumped into her. Pushed back several steps, Willona suddenly widened her eyes when she saw the wild boar on the hunter’s back almost fall towards her. Lucky for her, the hunter’s friend who was walking with him quickly held him back so his friend and his boar wouldn’t fall to the ground.
___“I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize I was blocking—”
___“Of course you have to apologize!” snapped the hunter, making Willona widen her eyes in surprise. “You saw yourself the road is crowded here, but you still stand in the middle of the road as if you own the whole road!”
___Startled that she had been scolded by the person who had bumped into her, Willona didn’t know what to say. Meanwhile, the man in front of her continued to rant and rave, saying that he had almost dropped his prey, which he considered a bad omen. Willona wanted to interrupt and say that in the end, the prey didn’t fall because his friend helped him hold it. But she knew that if she opened her mouth and say that, it would only further enrage the hunter.
___“Bart, enough. Half of it is still your fault for not watching the road.”
___The hunter’s friend finally intervened and separated him from Willona before he became more aggressive. Intending to apologize for his friend’s shameless behavior, the young man, however, froze when his eyes met Willona’s clear almond-irises, which were illuminated by the sunlight.
___“I apologize for my friend, Miss,” he finally said with a brief cough, then pushed his friend to keep moving. “Let’s go!”
___Trying to push away the memory of the young man’s expression when he saw her, which seemed surprised, curious, and inquisitive all at once, Willona decided to go look around elsewhere. However, even before she could take a step, the same voice was heard again from behind her.
___“Miss, excuse me,” said the young man as he continued to walk closer. The same look he had given her a few moments ago was still clearly visible in his eyes, which this time seemed slightly narrowed as he seems to study her.
___“What else is it? I have already forgiven your friend, or at least I will pretend none of it ever happened so you don’t need to—”
___“Oh, no! Not that,” he interrupted. “Uh, how do I put this ….”
___For some reason, Willona suddenly felt anxious. Whatever he was about to say, Willona had a bad feeling about it. Nervously, Willona waited for him to continue speaking.
___“I know it might sound weird, but have we met before?”

Reducio

Reducio

Reducio

disclaimer that it's contains elements of mental and emotionals instability

Reducio

not suitable for immature

Reducio

you have been warned

Reducio

Laughing We Laughing

___We now lives ridden with dilemmas. Life is tough and even death is pointless now we're surrounded by these miserable fate which not exactly our fault. There's no right for men, women, children. There's no right for health and sicks. There's no right for sane people anymore. We are lived in a hand of madmen who don't even know the differences between right and bad, good and evil. But still, here we are. Still life a living. Though, just go a bit mental actually. Heheh.
___We actually and historically rich, makes our Siblings and Neighbours sometimes jealous of us. But now, even the youngest Sibling and the tiniest Neighbour of us took a pity on us. Said, Why you got thinner day by day? Or, Are you save? Wanna stay at my place since you helped me out back then? Oh, how ironic! But what can we do? We still laughed at our own misery. Really.
___Worse, no matter what we do (and did) also getting useless. We spoke they're not heard. We show they're not seeing. We acted they're not sensed. Just like you're talking to the wall. Literally. Or a baby. The only responses you got just a loud cry or smell of poo and pee.
___We now realized we've reached the end of days, though half of us still scared of it; humane, doesn't matter. We no longer afraid of ghosts anymore; pity, there were a lot of them here and now they also loss their job. Now They are scarier. More evil than Devil itself. More stubborn than toddler themselves. More deaf and blind than the people have that disabilities themselves. But what? We just laughed. Really.
___There's nothing more we can do. This is the end game for us. Checkmate. The only hope is still here was just for the day after all these mess, let's meet in the good places while watching them burn in the abyss.

do not let yourself become a thief
because below is my so-neatly inpc plan

Reducio

𝕭ɪᴏɢʀᴀᴘʜʏ

rman was born right at the time struck midnight on 1st of August in 2013 into a prominent pure-blood family of Orlov who in the recent years have begun to open up their outdated minds that said pure-blood is everything while mud-blood is nothing but a shame. It was started with his grandfather, Vasily Orlov, who had an idea to tried something new his family hadn't never do nor expected to in the garment industry, both in wizardy and magly world. Born as a skillful negotiator equally to both his producers and consumers, the business fortunately running so smoothly without much problem. So then his son, Grigory Orlov (Arman's father), seeing a great opportunity in that, starting to expanded their business rapidly in the magly world.

———Nevertheless of their growing business, surely there are not a few of the conservative Russian pure-blood disapproving how Orlov's family growing inclination toward magly, though however, they couldn't say anything so openly to condemned them since Orlov's family still held a strong influence among the Russian pure-blood society both in economy-trade and a little part of politic.

———While the other hand, his mother Volha, from Smirnov's family, was a modest veterant (pure-blood) family living on the border between Belarus and Russia, around Vitsebsk Province. They were either law enforcements, hit wizards, or private investigators who sometimes worked along and dealing with magly's revolutionist on their missions. Little Arman spent his childhood there as it is also where he was born, at least until his maternal grandparents passed away peacefully when Arman barely hit two and half years old, before they moved to St. Petersburg and have live there ever since.

———With the humility and discipline taught in him from a young age, given by his parents significant background, made Arman grew up as an open-minded boy and aware of his surroundings. He knew when it's the time to be serious or having fun. He can tell if people speaking honestly or lying. He also knew when people is really comfortable around another or just pretending to be so. Just say, he is good at reading people's expression or the tone of their voices. However, he couldn't tell if people have a good or bad deed. He can only read face, not mind.

———Despite that, because of that awareness, Arman unconsciously used to not really showed how he truly felt on his face when he was around stranger or people he aren't close to. Although he himself realized how his two-faced was exactly like those conservative pure-blood always shown on their face while socializing at each other, at least Arman never intended to do the same wicked intention as they were since that acted of his only triggered as a precaution.

———As Arman turns six years old, he started to officially studying his true nature, magics around him, and anything else kid likes him had entitled to know as part of his education. Thus, his parents started to discussing this matter. Either to board him to Durmstrang Institute (which many Orlovs have always been graduates) or Koldovstoretz Conservatory (which Smirnovs, started from his grandparents, been graduates). Yet then another question followed: should Arman just go at this age or later until he got eleven. They couldn't voice their answer immediately, so Grigory asked for his father's advice while Volha asked for her brothers'. Until they got one same conclusion that they will delayed Arman's boarding until he reaches eleven.

———So then began Arman's education being tutored in home, at least until he reaches eleven years old. Mainly, it was parted of his parent's job to teach him about all of that. However sometimes, his grandfather, Vasily Orlov, or either his maternal uncles and aunts also took part of it when they had a chance and time to come visit. They all, of course, have a high hope for Arman, especially when they see the potential in him, in either his intelligence, magical, and physical abilities.

𝕱ɪʀsᴛ 𝕿ɪᴍᴇ 𝕸ᴀɢɪᴄ

t happened when Arman was around three years old. He was eating, with his mother feeding him. As soon as the first bite hit his mouth, he felt the spicy taste of the bell pepper in his food, making him tantrum and don't want to open his mouth and continue eating. His mother, however, keep pushing him, told him that it was good for his body. As stubborn as he is, Arman started to shaking his head aggressively as his mother kept insisted pushing the spoon toward his mouth. Until, suddenly, his mother felt a sudden surge of powerful force that sending the spoon flew off, causing the food to scatter all over the floor.

———If this were situation where Arman 'himself' do the mess on her rug, she will discipline him almost at that time. But she just stare at disbelieve, didn't expected her child's magic already shown at this early age. And without much care about the food that dirtying the floor and her carpet, she immediately picked Arman up to her embrace and risen him up with so much proud.

keywords. introduction, history (you are here), character, attribute, education, family, acquaintance, miscellanous

Reducio

¯‾¯‾¯‾¯‾¯¯‾¯‾¯‾¯‾¯‾¯‾¯‾‾¯‾¯‾

STATISTICS
STA 7 — STR 5 — EVA 6 — ACC 6 — WIS 7 — ARC 4

ABILITIES

Y1A
· detail ·

Y2A
· detail ·

Y3A
· detail ·

Y4A
· detail ·

Y5A
· detail ·

Y6A
· detail ·

Y7A
· detail ·



keywords. introduction, history, character, attribute (you are here), education, family, acquaintance, miscellanous

Reducio

ОРЛОВ


“Под крылом чести, остриём правды.”
“Under the wing of honor, by the edge of truth.”

¯‾¯‾¯‾¯‾¯‾¯‾¯‾

_____Reside in the northwest side of Rasgorod, stands firm a foundation of seemingly unendless snow-covered building, slightly covered by couples of pine trees as if they intended to keep it secret the splendor of the manor out of stranger eyes. This is said to be a residence of prominent family, they called themselves Orlov, which probably had been in existence long before the surrounding villages were even aware of the land's existence. Passed around through the generations, son to the son and to the next son, their wealth and honor remain intact as a pure-blood wizards family rumored to have a firm grounding, influence, and support to and from tsardom era. Although during revolution they forced to hide and play dead to convinced the magly that the residents of the manor had already fleeing or worse died, the Orlovs stay hidden and dig their already basement to more underground level to the prior time until the conditions get more stable and better. But now, this lowest underground space is mostly abandoned and only used after the incident of werewolves' attack back in December 2023 as a safe area for Vasily Orlov and his grandson, Arman Orlov, during the full moon phase.

_____As of today, the head of family position is still fully maintained on Vasily Orlov's hand starting from when he built his garment industry from a scratch. Merely sponsored by his family name's influenced, he gained his business' growth by pure skill of honesty, negotiation, and quick-wittedness. Marrying a woman from a notable wizard family of Kirovsky, Milena, they were bestowed with two children. Grigory as the eldest son and Alyona as the youngest daughter.

The eldest son, Grigory Orlov, having inherited his father's vision and open-mindedness, expanding the garment business to not exclusively for wizards only but also for magly living outside the Russian wizarding world. A risky move, yet greatly paid off and generating handsome profits on a par with his father's main branch. He married a Belarusian woman of Smirnov, Volha, and were given two sons. Arman and Feliks Orlov. Until now, he and his family lived in a warmer environment in St. Petersburg.
_____Meanwhile, the youngest daughter of Vasily, Alyona Orlova, had married to a wealthy curse-breaker, Oleg Belinsky, and had moved to Belinsky's residence in Yekaterinburg and becoming Alyona Belinskaya. Although she had struggled to conceive for two years, they finally being blessed with a daughter they named Mara Belinskaya.

СМИРНОВ


“Не ищем битвы, но готовы к буре.”
“We do not seek battle, but we are ready for the storm.”

¯‾¯‾¯‾¯‾¯‾¯‾¯‾

_____Had originally lived in the border between the two countries of Russia and Belarus, Smirnovs maintained to kept their family member out of the spotlight despite of their top-notch abilities as an information gatherer. Mostly gathered anything that couldn't be so easily looking for merely in the surface. They worked in the dark, under the shadow, barely even concealed their own name to others, yet not as a servants of the dark but rather for the light. Helping others in need without asking for credits or wealth but trust and confidentiality.
_____________________
_____Living a humble life in some point of Vitebsk, Iosif Smirnov continuing the future of his family in the same house his father and grandfather had built and inherited onto him. With his wife, Polina Smirnova, they lived a solitude life with their three children, Kiril, Volha, and Evgeny. Until Iosif and Polina breathed their last breath, role of the head of family has passed to Kiril Smirnov as the eldest son.
_____Interestingly, the three of the siblings has each two sons. Stepan and Andrei Smirnov from Kiril and his wife, Arman and Feliks Orlov from Volha and her husband, also Alexei and Vadim Smirnov from Evgeny and his wife. Makes a quite many counts with their new family generation, however, a grief strikes when Kiril's wife died of illnes. Despite that, the siblings trying hard not to keep the sorrow to go on any longer as time goes by. However, seems like Stepan and Andrei took their mother's passing a bit too much causing them to rarely stayed home, especially when they becoming adult and started to busy with their own jobs.

Reducio

lower your brightness before press next

Reducio

sure, open for relations, owl me

keywords. introduction, history, character, attribute, education, family (you are here), acquaintance, miscellanous