WELCOME

[Yokomota Tokogowa]

Yokomota easily twists and twirls himself between the many vines and thorns that makes up the forest closer to the temple as he quietly and calmly makes his way to where he can sense its bounderies. He stops for a moment listening in the absolute silence of the forest, listening and feeling. He sets off once more moving with a haste unlike most humans can muster in such vegetation his body giving him a slight advantage over the terrain. He stops again this time just outside the gateway in the temple walls. How he knows that this is here he can not tel but he rather feels it for what it is. He calmly steps closer to the gate his eyes closed as he acknowledges the surrounding flowers and with a smile reaches out touching one following it down its stem till he reaches a thorn where he presses his thumb against it till a large cut is formed that slowly drips blood. The silver of Yokomota's blood seems to wrap around the stem for a moment then suddenly both the blood and Yokomota are gone as the droplets of silver blood appear on the other side of the gate seeping from one of the flowers before suddenly drying as Yokomota stands there looking at the dried blood. He smiles to himself as he licks his thumb closing the small cut while turning around and closing his eyes. He lets his hand gently fall to his side where he holds it out horizontal to the ground and spreading his fingers wide making the five pentagrams dangling from his fingers form the points of a larger pentagram which he then twists and pushes toward the ground feeling his energy flow through the ground and spreading out in a long strip that is the pathway to the temple. He smiles gently his face hidden behind his bangs as he manipulates the energy he had spent allowing it to swell at the temple doors. He then uses one of his fingernails and makes a small pinprick in his palm allowing a single drop of blood to fall. Instead of falling straight down though it flies off merging with the energy and suddenly blooming into at least a dozen silver petaled roses that are very rare as they can only be grown and fed by blood. Yokomota sits down leaning backwards against the gate as he lets his body rest for a moment his waist down nearly vanishing in the dark shadows of the plants due to his black pants. He points a finger at one of the roses making it rise and tap against the door to the temple its stem making a noise which is amplified with the last of the built up energy to sound more like a knocking more than a small tap.

[+Nanashi Iyoki-Lar'Drasoul]

"Do NOT answer that door!!"

"But Nana-!"

"I WILL KILL YOU IF YOU DO."

There was a silence before the sound of glasses crashing against walls and a small girl screaming echoed through the empty and overgrown temple and finally through the doors. At that very moment, the noise of a woman punching through god knows what resonated and the girls screams came again and louder. Silence fell once more and the world seemed to be unaffected by anything inside, however, the obviously growing sounds of sobbing couldn't be ignored. Even the Silver Roses that had spread across the garden perked up in uncomfortable excitement. They seemed worried... worried for something unknown that rested inside the area where their vines had finally stretched. They weeped for the inside. There was nothing that could have told them of what horrors were in there. The horror of a small child seemingly screaming for her life and a woman raving about anything and everything she could.

"Please..." It was quiet, but loud enough to hear outside. "Don't leave yet. I'm coming..." The worlds trailed off as a woman's shriek's came roaring through the building. Nonetheless, there was now a small child in the main hall, carefully approaching the door as to not make enough sound to alert the already wildly raging beast in human form upstairs. Touching what was left of the black marble doors, she sighed heavily, sniffling and wiping nearly dried tears from her eyes. Slowly, she pulled on the handle, making sure that the screeching of the door didn't past beyond the two nearest to it.

Green eyes stared out from the darkness beyond the opening, obviously wet with tears. Soon an entire face accompanied it, bruised and battered from various objects and limbs. She shook her head and raised a finger to her lips. "You have to be quiet... she's not.... well," was her voice, cracked from hours of screaming, crying, laughing, and every other form of emotion audible by voice. She was visibly beaten, her entire body shook to hide the pain it was in and her eyes darted around wildly, expecting something to come out and scare her at any minute. "My name is Arla..." she added, pulling the door farther out to better welcome this unwanted but unavoidable guest. At least this person wasn't raving and throwing things...

"If you're here to see the Lady, she can't... oh you heard it, I'm sure... she doesn't want guests..." Arla's green eyes ran over the guest and she bit down on her bottom lip, which wasn't as busted as the top lip.

[Yokomota Tokogowa]

Yokomota gestures to the silver roses lying in front of the door making one of them rise up in front of the girl its silver petals seeming hypnotic as it rotates for a momentin front of her before settling before Arla leaving the rest behind it. Yokomota nods at her comments moving his bangs to show Arla that he wasn't actually looking at her. He tilts his head to the side slightly smiling as he makes the rest of the silver roses seem to whirl up and slide past Arla into the temple flying straight to the source of all the commotion. Straight to the one who had been throwing things their very movement and being simply somehow seeming not supposed to be. It was almost as if these very roses weren't sposed to exist and yet looking at them one can't help but think that they were made using power similar to a gods to summon things into being and yet unlike any element that could have a god represent it. Yokomota bows to Arla as he pulls himself to his feet the muscles in his chest rippling as he moves with a sort of grace that one can't help but think out of place in this forest.