Board Thread:Important Logs/@comment-26068742-20170822035703/@comment-26068742-20170822040956

Harmonious, this was the paint of her world. Tranquility, this eased the guilty. Serenity and stillness sung through these rooms, these hallways left narrow and endless were means to an end as they whispered their welcome to all that sought it—Within this moment, the unhealthiest of hearts could find peace. Those held to be wicked and damned, they were rejected by a force, as this serenity felt like nothing more than a cold shoulder and never-ending isolation. Emptiness, this temple could be. A soul was best left alone and this was truth, as only souls seemed to linger, weep within the walls or simply under the flooring, it mattered not, their cries were nothing more than a cheer as they would soon to, learn when to pass beyond this plain. As a simple group of physical being found themselves in a temple, a church they titled it, they’ll find themselves looking into a place that was so empty, ‘least, this was to their hues that could see not the truth life that lies beyond their centered hues—Breezey, a wind sung out in a whisper, an alarm to the priestess that lived in this temple, as this was her home.

“To what does these souls seek? Puzzled and clueless; ambitious and committed. To what may I offer?” Poetic, some may say. Annoying to those narrow. Angelic to those damned. Alluring to those wick. Tender to those broken. A voice had spoke, silky and sweet, it was quite a treat. Beyond the two that sought someone, to this someone, it was her—A staircase, she stood atop. Hazel hues looked upon them, she expressed a softness, but her face was cold, composed, but it held a sense of welcome and a sense of disdain, those who knew, she could be both benevolent and malevolent. Caught in her divine, if they dared to look upon her, she held herself in fashion, crimson was her theme, gold and ivory were a mere add on; adorned in feathers and a headdress alone. Her emblem was proud, as she herself was as well.

To her forehead, her simple was there, donned as a means as she was praised and to that, it was her, Masa Tamotsu, a name that rang loud and quite proud. To her words that would echo as a song that would allure a beast into their calmest of senses, she made her way down the stairs, to advance to these two. To why did they come? To what did they need? Elegant she walked, her fingers trailed down the rail of the stair as her attire swayed behind her, her brown locks only danced to the tune of her voice. Stopping on the last step, she touched not the grounds beyond her, that floor they stood on, to why? She told not. “It is I, the priestess you seek.” She spoke once more, her voice changed not, as her vocals were enough to express her power and to that, this peace, she feared not them nor their desires.