Custom Storm Dragarth
YoshiThe shrine was in ruins, the same way Rellian had seen herself after what she assumed to be an attempt on her life. She hadn't been the same since the arson, neither physically or emotionally. The anima was overly paranoid, or reasonably cautious, depending on who was asked. She never interacted more than she felt was necessary. The less who knew about her secrets, the better.
For the longest time, Rellian suspected that nobody came to the old building, nevermind searched it for anything. It was here that she partook in her peculiar hobby of inventing strange knicknacks and gadgets. A lot of anima once knew her for her peculiar little inventions. It had been years now since any public eyes had seen them now. Upon being asked about them, Rellian would feign that she merely lost interest. This was far from true, the anima had simply become too distrusting to allow anyone to see her passions for anything. So she gradually moved her metal and gears into the lower levels of this shrine, a place she recalled stumbling upon some years ago.
Around the building, caution tape had been strung up, which was now in weathered ribbons attached to random trees. The floorboards creaked and groaned with each step Rellian would take inside the building. Over time, Rellian learned where it was okay for her to place her paws on the tired ground below her, after an incident where the floor nearly gave way beneath her weight. The floors above were riddled with holes in various areas. This place was really only suitable for small familiars or even a wild anima to call home. Drops of rain dripped down from other areas, not doing the wooden floors any favors. Thankfully it was only rainy today, as powerful winds would make the old temple sway dangerously.
Rellian made her way into the basement of the shrine, headed down an old staircase that was found in the back. Here she kept her inventions protected as best as she could, with large pieces of plastic tarp covering the especially delicate ones. Or at least, this is what Rellian usually did. After turning on a few oil lamps by the base of the stairs, she let out a displeased grunt as she noticed her machines had been tampered with again. A table with her smaller robots had been uncovered, with several of said inventions scattered haphazardously across the floor. "At least they're still here..." Rellian muttered tiredly to herself, collecting what looked like mechanical insects and placing them back in their spots.
It was becoming more frequent for some kids to come and mess with her property. While Rellian very much knew the risk of having her belongings unsecured in a proper house, it was irritating all the same. Nothing had been stolen from what she could tell, at least, not yet. When she'd check on her inventions, she'd find the mechanical fly spinning awkwardly on its back in the corner somewhere. Or the arms of the disportionate clock spinning wildly out of control. Oddly enough, whenever she disassembled the objects to shut them off, the back compartments would still be void of any sort of battery.
(TBC ack!!)
