Where I Belong| ongoing

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The afternoon of the 13th day since you left, Dio, I'll meet Castella Nix for the first time.

Pia will explain/warn me of what to expect on our way to her study. That the Children of Lilith are yet another race of immortal magical beings, albeit demonic; when they are so inclined, some deign to help Shadowhunters over the centuries (or marry them like Magnus, Aria will snicker); each prominent city usually has a High Warlock presiding and that the Muchiri Insititute, even in the world of the Fucked Up, is even more fucked up by having its High Warlock, Castella, as also the Institute Head.

I'll take all this in stride, naturally.

Castella Nix is Beyonce fresh off the red carpet, with curly hair to rival mine spilling down over her shoulders and her coppery skin sheathed in a red dress that pops against the overcast skies outside. She'll be balancing a long bronze knife, point down on her mahogany desk, when I'll plant my bare feet right next to it. Her dark eyes will flick up, aggressively bored.

"I'll leave you two to it," Pia will chuckle from the door, before it will shut with a snap.

"Samyukta Arundale," Castella will croon, while I try to find any kind of hint of her demonic mark in my slow, customary eyefuck. I'll find it when she'll grin amusedly- a grand pair of curved fangs.

"You're unclaimed, yes?" she'll rest her chin on her hand, balanced on the butt of her knife, while she'll return my eyefuck. My neck along my tattoo will heat up.

"Yeah, I don't know which god fucked which of my parents, currently."

"Forget about that," Castella will say smoothly, and I will.

"You'll do just fine," she'll reach a finger out to trace my tattoo, and I'll instantly hope she traces a bit more south. Abruptly, she'll grip my chin and yank my gaze to hers. Dark eyes search my soul before she'll lean back into her giant winged chair. Literally winged: the top of the chair is carved with a giant pair of angel wings.

"That's for you, by the way." she'll gesture to the bronze knife sharing her desk with my feet. "Every hero needs a weapon."

"Thanks," I'll run a finger down the edge of the sharp bronze, and grin.