(((LMK if I ought to change anything up! I figure she's basically in Encanto looking for signs of Bruno lurking about. ...if necessary, by scrying, although she's trying to be subtle.)))
[Since the opening of the village and resumed contact with the outside world, it had been only a matter of time before rumors would begin to spread. After all, the rest of the village had years of distrust and wariness about Bruno, but without the same connections as the Madrigals who so gladly welcomed him back, and Bruno himself had more than a little adjusting to do after a decade without real human contact. Of course, they did their best to be polite about it out of respect for Doña Alma, but their stiff manners and concealed grimaces were hardly undetectable, and their discomfort did nothing to help Bruno relate to them on a day-to-day basis. Additionally, uncomfortable grumblings and unflattering anecdotes were exchanged between villagers who quietly dreaded Bruno possibly seeing something grim about their futures, or dropping some hint of a vision they couldn't ignore. Some of those stories leaked gradually out of Encanto, expanding and clouding into the regional folklore as tales of the harbinger of doom who lurked about a town amid the mountains, communing with vermin and conveying curses (either unprompted or as punishments depending on the version of the story), a dark and foreboding figure balancing the blessedness of his family.
While the stories were merely an interesting footnote in the regional folklore for interested tourists and ethnographers, there were those to whom they were of more interest. Just as there were miracles and those blessed with wonderful gifts, there were calamities and those cursed with terrible afflictions, even hounded or tempted by malevolent supernatural forces.
Any occultist would have found the appearance of such shifts in folklore intriguing, but for one with Thelema's resources, reach, and special interests in witchcraft, curses, and demonology, it was irresistible. Certain details broadly consistent among the stories were too remarkable to dismiss, and such things are best addressed early to minimize damage--whether to the region or to the unfortunate innocent at the center of the stories. She'd quickly made her way to Colombia to investigate in person and collect details of the stories, herself, tracing them back toward their source.
It's a late afternoon, the sky still bright but the shadows of the mountains stretching across the town when she arrives in Encanto, guided by a resident returning from the next nearest settlement outside the mountain pass. She stands out rather obviously, silver-haired and very fair-skinned with bright blue eyes, wearing an innocent yet almost-revealing sundress, and with the cheery curiosity of a tourist. Seemingly in no rush, she takes her time exploring the town, making acquaintances--and as she soothes the residents into speaking freely, it doesn't take long for her to recognize that the Madrigal family is central to the stories.
Surely, they would be understandably wary if she were to show up at their door asking about magic; instead, she takes a subtler approach, watching patiently for signs of one who makes the townspeople uneasy. Whatever dark portents he may represent, Thelema is certain that she's encountered worse.
If necessary, she's confident she could cause far worse.
Still, she hopes to settle matters with compassion, warmth, and kindness. Humans respond well to such things, after all, and friendship can make them far happier, less dangerous, and more useful.]
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Kind of an all-A mashup plus C1 because it's Thelema and this is how she makes friends?
[Since the opening of the village and resumed contact with the outside world, it had been only a matter of time before rumors would begin to spread. After all, the rest of the village had years of distrust and wariness about Bruno, but without the same connections as the Madrigals who so gladly welcomed him back, and Bruno himself had more than a little adjusting to do after a decade without real human contact. Of course, they did their best to be polite about it out of respect for Doña Alma, but their stiff manners and concealed grimaces were hardly undetectable, and their discomfort did nothing to help Bruno relate to them on a day-to-day basis. Additionally, uncomfortable grumblings and unflattering anecdotes were exchanged between villagers who quietly dreaded Bruno possibly seeing something grim about their futures, or dropping some hint of a vision they couldn't ignore. Some of those stories leaked gradually out of Encanto, expanding and clouding into the regional folklore as tales of the harbinger of doom who lurked about a town amid the mountains, communing with vermin and conveying curses (either unprompted or as punishments depending on the version of the story), a dark and foreboding figure balancing the blessedness of his family.
While the stories were merely an interesting footnote in the regional folklore for interested tourists and ethnographers, there were those to whom they were of more interest. Just as there were miracles and those blessed with wonderful gifts, there were calamities and those cursed with terrible afflictions, even hounded or tempted by malevolent supernatural forces.
Any occultist would have found the appearance of such shifts in folklore intriguing, but for one with Thelema's resources, reach, and special interests in witchcraft, curses, and demonology, it was irresistible. Certain details broadly consistent among the stories were too remarkable to dismiss, and such things are best addressed early to minimize damage--whether to the region or to the unfortunate innocent at the center of the stories. She'd quickly made her way to Colombia to investigate in person and collect details of the stories, herself, tracing them back toward their source.
It's a late afternoon, the sky still bright but the shadows of the mountains stretching across the town when she arrives in Encanto, guided by a resident returning from the next nearest settlement outside the mountain pass. She stands out rather obviously, silver-haired and very fair-skinned with bright blue eyes, wearing an innocent yet almost-revealing sundress, and with the cheery curiosity of a tourist. Seemingly in no rush, she takes her time exploring the town, making acquaintances--and as she soothes the residents into speaking freely, it doesn't take long for her to recognize that the Madrigal family is central to the stories.
Surely, they would be understandably wary if she were to show up at their door asking about magic; instead, she takes a subtler approach, watching patiently for signs of one who makes the townspeople uneasy. Whatever dark portents he may represent, Thelema is certain that she's encountered worse.
If necessary, she's confident she could cause far worse.
Still, she hopes to settle matters with compassion, warmth, and kindness. Humans respond well to such things, after all, and friendship can make them far happier, less dangerous, and more useful.]