Post by Zoken on Mar 5, 2004 0:38:37 GMT -5
She had lived in Chicago for the last six years. in the last two she had found an easier means of making money by teaming up with her neighbor in the apartment next door. she grew the herbs, he sold them online. since she grew rare herbs that only a certain select would purchase, they made a killing.
that was her means of income. it was by no means her life. her life was devoted to study, and protection. the study of the ancient ways, and the protection of those she could. you see Darla Darq (pronounced Dark) was not just a witch, she was THE witch. her power and knowledge extended into the mysticals of other nations and peoples. she knew the calm ways of the european witches, and the solemn ways of the Native american Shamans, and the mystic ways of the Japanese priestesses, and the frightful way of the Voodoo. She was still learning though. she studied witch craft in all its forms. Today was odd though. Ian, the neighbor who sold her products was already here, and there was a knock at the door. she knew no other SERIOUS magical persons who knew where she lived. ever so often she had to go to the local wiccan coven, but they were more interested in raising wiccan awareness than tapping into the powers of nature.
Who would be at her door. her pet Chameleon, Midnight, moved down her arm, fading from the black of her vest, to the gray of her sleeve. "Who is it?" she called in her blank voice."
that was her means of income. it was by no means her life. her life was devoted to study, and protection. the study of the ancient ways, and the protection of those she could. you see Darla Darq (pronounced Dark) was not just a witch, she was THE witch. her power and knowledge extended into the mysticals of other nations and peoples. she knew the calm ways of the european witches, and the solemn ways of the Native american Shamans, and the mystic ways of the Japanese priestesses, and the frightful way of the Voodoo. She was still learning though. she studied witch craft in all its forms. Today was odd though. Ian, the neighbor who sold her products was already here, and there was a knock at the door. she knew no other SERIOUS magical persons who knew where she lived. ever so often she had to go to the local wiccan coven, but they were more interested in raising wiccan awareness than tapping into the powers of nature.
Who would be at her door. her pet Chameleon, Midnight, moved down her arm, fading from the black of her vest, to the gray of her sleeve. "Who is it?" she called in her blank voice."
