Musa Sirenix

Icy wanted a story about herself so I gave her one. Only she's not a witch here. She's more. One-shot. Dark.

In my perception, I would appear as a बिना सोचे समझे girl wandering through the streets and casually window-shopping. But that was not what I was really doing. I wore dull, black and gray clothes. They spoke of lack and it described me. I took things from people and left them with nothing.

My hair, a freakishly light blonde that might have passed for white, would have caused people to think that I was an old lady. Except for when they saw my face, of course. It might have been my eyes that had...

Icy found her fingers wrapping around the diamond resting on her neck.

The mineral resting there was rather precious to her.

It was cold to the touch--as it should be--glittering, and smooth.

It was like a reflex to touch it. When under stress Icy would find herself clutching या tapping the diamond.

When upset या despairing, she'd unhook the choker from her neck and bring it to her lips. Leaving a metallic taste in her mouth.

Other than that, Icy'd never take the choker off. She'd lose her powers before she let the diamond go.

The diamond was salvation, the diamond was consoling...

Especially...