In the mysterious palace, there was a strange woman.
Sen Getsusa stood behind the gauze curtain, stroking the purple tassels on the back of her hand—the color was as beautiful as the woman's flowing long purple hair.
"This is my palace."
The woman focused on her toes, exhaled lightly, and carefully closed the nail polish cap.
As she spoke, she took several small cotton balls from a box beside her, stuffed them between each toe, and then straightened her legs to prevent accidentally smudging the freshly applied paint.
"You can call me Oshtur. Oh! By the way, do you like blue?" Oshtur enthusiastically prepared to pick up that tube of blue nail polish again and beckoned to Sen Getsusa.
No, no thanks.
The woman didn't mind, shifted her bottom to the side on the seat, and patted the cushion.
"Sit down and talk. The cushions I just bought, do they look good?"
Sen Getsusa nodded very insincerely. After sitting down, she spoke tentatively: "Ms. Oshtur?"
Before Sen Getsusa could finish, this purple-haired lady leaned over and snuggled into Sen Getsusa's arms. She tilted her head back very familiarly, resting it on the girl's shoulder.
Her body language exuded a sense of familiarity as if they hadn't seen each other for many days.
"You're so beautiful; your eyes look like mine."
From Sen Getsusa's perspective, the other's eyes seemed full of... affection?
Then, she reached out—long blue nails gently brushed across Sen Getsusa's face, stroking the corners of her eyes and eyebrows one by one, her eyes overflowing with tenderness.
This feeling was very strange.
Indeed, they looked very similar—if it were just the eyes.
The corners of her eyes were slightly drooping like Sen Getsusa's; with eyeliner, they appeared both sharp and cold, yet carried a hazy sense of blurriness.
Plus the incredibly charming gaze.
If one had to describe it, it was simply... indecently beautiful.
"Is it really okay to describe yourself like that?"
The woman spoke meaningfully. She seemed to hear the thoughts in Sen Getsusa's heart, pursing her red lips and pressing the tear mole at the corner of the girl's eye with her fingertip.
"I like this tear mole, I don't have one." She pointed innocently at herself: "With it, you are more beautiful than me. Hmm... more seductive, more outstanding than me."
Oshtur gazed at Sen Getsusa rapturously, as if examining an inanimate masterpiece: "You should be the one who embodies decadent beauty. Men and women should all take off—"
Sen Getsusa raised an eyebrow: "Thank you for the compliment, Madam Oshtur. I have to interrupt you, lest everything you say next turns into a mosaic."
"Just call me Oshtur. Unlike that little Ancient One, I never like to hide things."
Oshtur propped herself up with a cushion, moving her body away from Sen Getsusa, but suddenly placed her two long legs onto Sen Getsusa's lap.
"Help me watch them, don't let them rub." Her toes, painted with blue nail polish, wiggled around.
"I am Oshtur. How should I put it... perhaps I count as an Old God?" The woman casually introduced her identity.
It sounds so high-level, yet she used a question mark?
"Sometimes, it's hard to explain exactly what you belong to, isn't it the same for you?" Oshtur, who was clearly older than Sen Getsusa, began acting affectionately like a Child toward Sen Getsusa: "Ever since I handed you over to Him/Her, I've never seen what you look like..."
The more Sen Getsusa listened, the more confused she became.
What does 'handed you over to Him/Her' mean?
Who is He/She?
"A nasty and troublesome thing." The woman winked. "But it's not important. You just need to remember that you are 'My' Child."
"Mine."
Oshtur emphasized the word 'My,' as if stressing something to Sen Getsusa.
Your Child?
Sen Getsusa grew even more confused.
The other party pouted, slightly dissatisfied, and scratched the back of Sen Getsusa's hand with her small toes.
"It's 'a part' of me." She said: "You are not human, you know that right?"
"Of course." Sen Getsusa lightly slapped the woman's foot.
"So, you are not a naturally born creature, do you know that?"
Sen Getsusa: ( oΔo )
"Molding people, molding people!" Oshtur winked playfully, making a kneading motion with her hands: "Have you ever played with clay? When you were little, did you—"
"Oh... you had a sad childhood... I'm really sorry."
The incoherent woman's expression turned sad again.
"No, I don't understand. Who exactly am I?" The other party's rambling made the girl a little impatient.
"You are Sen Getsusa. Planeswalker, Sen Getsusa, that's right."
Oshtur said: "I contributed some 'things' to Him/Her, so of course you count as My Child."
She looked at Sen Getsusa with adoration, her toes rubbing back and forth across the girl's abdomen, her seductive eyes full of deep meaning and charm.
Sen Getsusa subtly adjusted her sitting posture.
"So, that 'Entity' is also my Mama? You molded a 'person,' and that person is me?"
Oshtur nodded, cautiously watching Sen Getsusa's expression: "You could say that. Are you angry?"
Sen Getsusa was certainly not angry.
Relieved of some of her confusion, she let out a long breath.
"I see. Is that why 'The Entity' has been protecting me all this time?"
Seeing Sen Getsusa constantly mentioning Him/Her, Oshtur was uncharacteristically displeased: "That's because He/She has an agenda! Don't think He/She loves you very much! He/She just wants to find a—"
Oshtur only spoke half a sentence before her voice slid low like black and white piano keys, gradually becoming inaudible.
In short, if the Madam in front of her, who seemed even more mentally unstable than herself, was telling the truth, she could indeed be considered her Mama in some respects.
"Hehe, little Yuesha, stay with me for a few days, alright? I've collected so many interesting movies..."
The woman's thighs rubbed back and forth, and her palm stroked, pushing aside the hair below her collarbone.
Now, there was nothing blocking the view... "Mama!"
A rough, hoarse voice pierced through from the other end of the palace.
Oshtur's previously joyful expression instantly drooped. She made a sour face and scratched her chin.
Instantly, a set of purple robes appeared on her body.
The heavy and steady footsteps, after breaking against the brick wall, truthfully entered Sen Getsusa's ears.
After a moment, a pair of ancient black boots entered her view.
The middle-aged man wore red robes, his long hair draped over his shoulders, and his beard circled his mouth, growing somewhat wildly onto his cheeks. The man's dusty appearance did not match the luxurious palace.
His eyes were bright and piercing. As he strode over, Oshtur had already changed her demeanor, sitting upright and sternly, completely devoid of her previous seductive charm.
The stern-faced woman seemed truly like an unsmiling, strict Mama.
"Agamotto, I remember telling you that you were not allowed to come to the palace today."
The woman's voice was cold and boring, but the man opposite her did not care.
He was full of enthusiasm, crossing the pool in a few steps. First, he respectfully bowed to his Mama, and then turned his head to look at Sen Getsusa.
To be honest... Sen Getsusa had seen this look too many times recently.
Every time she saw this look, it meant the person either wanted to be her Papa or her Mama.
The middle-aged man laughed foolishly, stroking the thick beard on his chin:
"Nice to meet you. Don't I look good?"
"Dear little sister."
Oh, little sister.
(?д?≡?д?)
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