Amalaric Studies
Magic Infusion
1. Green Boogers
Imps and zombies aren't too far apart. In modern media, zombies are often green and beyond dead. Given the state of the Ghetto, Ghetto people actually do not believe in zombies. The dead is dead and the soul is forever. Unless you say blink…
Imps relate to the Ghetto's crooked ways. Zombies are unbelievable.
The reason Imps and Zombies are similar is because the insides are rotting. On average, an Imp can live up to five months to a year. Sometimes longer with magic and that word for armor would be WALK (Speechless Spellcasting).
Imps have their own territory in Locucts, Grasmere District.
Imps are made through drinking vampire blood. Though most vamps used to be human. In the magical sense, imps are cursed for greed. In the logical sense, it is because of poison.
Imps cannot be made by rituals though, Rusp Fella, a black man who found his first vampire outside the realm. Consumed more than 70 gallons of vampire blood.
There is a known liquor that is sold by imps, witches, and the beloved Growden family. It is unknown exactly how long it takes for somebody to turn into an imp.
With Darebácký contains 60% of vampire blood. The Hood recognizes it as a type of infusion. It may have inspired the drunks from the department that give off a more grey-green color.
Darebácký is a magic-infused item like the Tear Joint. Tear Joint is a thin spliff that older vamps smoke when healing. Using Asian traditions, Tear joint is made like a inside-out sushi roll.
Tear Joint's urban legend states that smoking it will give a vampire wings. Because of the nature of Locucts, the marijuana in the ghetto is different and the residents have used it has to find peace in death.
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Wyleisha sat down and watched Closwintha bring in a stove. On top of the stove was a box of pots and bowls. She got everything ready to heal Wyleisha. She went back outside and got some leaves and sticks.
She didn't plug the stove up as there was no place to plug it. She filled the burners with the sticks and leaves then set it on fire.
She put the pot on the stove and went to get stem cells in a jar. She emptied the jar in the pot and then went back to jab a syringe in Wyleisha. HEr blood was thin and dark red. "You don't have enough."
"No shit…" Closwintha got another syringe and drew blood from her legs. It was dark red and thin. She groaned, "I fucked up…"
Maybe she should just die. When Closwintha was done she set the three vitals of blood on the stove. "Your mother isn't dead but I can't get her."
Wyleisha rotated her eyes. "I have to wait. I could kill you but your soul would be loose for a body."
Maybe that's what she needed to do so she could get out the ruined one. But she didn't know anything about soul travel. Witches came from drunks. "Mom?" she looked at her.
"She's guarded." she said. "Your next question is why? Because…" she looked away.
"Why!"
"Your mom is a hoe! She's in debt with Okra." Closwintha explained. She heaved, "If it ain't Growden and slavery then it's crack dealers."
"Expl--" she had to stop herself as she felt a stroke coming on. "WHAT!"
"Okra used to deal to Hadi and Hadi did extra shit to get it. Like sex. Belly Dancers are just dancers but Hadi had… ideas…"
"SHUT UP!"
"Listen! I know nobody wants to admit their mother--"
"LIAR!"
"I am not lying! Your mother sold you off and that's what got you and your father fucking killed!" She covered her mouth.
She couldn't really sit there and deny just to be hard headed. She sat with her mother, she wasn't like that. So beause she didn't see it. She had to be lying. That was logic.
"Mokiri…" Closwintha looked at the pot. "You could die and leave me to fix the body. I'll call your soul back."
That wasn't a bad idea. "Mom…?"
"From what the Growdens tell us. She got rid of you and siblings to get back at Yawa. I mean he used to beat the bricks off that muslim…"
"No…" she hissed at herself. Don't be like that. "Mokiri, your mother is your mother. I totally understand that. The woman did drugs like that's how everybody finds the fucking light in the shadows. She sold her own daughter. THe werewolf thing is a curse." she sighed. "IF anything you should be thankful. It would've killed you. She was so bitter about her husband, she called him a pimp though… all Yawa wanted was his wife back."
"why me?"
"You died a lot. To be honest I think your mom hated you…" She slowed down in her words. "Like…" she pressed her lips together. "You were sick and she had other kids but then there was you."
"Bothersome…" she barked. "I guess…" Closwintha blinked hiding her impudence. Mokiri just told herself whatever…
"It's not all bad. Maybe I can Aril to look at it. Also… apparently he knows you."
"What is that about?"
"His voodoo doll broke… I finally understand. He is like the prince of the Smiley family. He's--if I haven't said it--He's Noboedy's son."
"So you lie to my face?"
"Yeah we did do that. But this is the truth! Your parents couldn't support you. You were basically cripple. Yawa was too big for a job and he had three fucking kids. You were like… fucking life alert."
Mokiri looked up and glared at Closwintha. She couldn't bite her, she was a vampire and she was already on the verge of doing the green salute.
"Kill me."