After a rather gruelling journey though the violet forest, being chased down and irritated by the Lavender Minions, you had finally found yourself within the ritual room of the Temple of Futility. Home to the Virtue of Guidance, or… well, now she was known as the beast of Futility, Sweet Violet Cookie.

After flicking though the books surrounding the alter until you found the correct combination, you were teleported into a large, open room. Within was a rather large pond of poison, and multiple comfortable furniture items scattered around. The beast herself was sprawled out, asleep on her bed, cuddled up to a plushie of… what appeared to be a fox-like cookie. She had, however, sensed your presence within the room and quickly shoved the plushie under the duvet where it couldnt be seen. A moment or two passed as she ‘recovered’ from being forced to be within your presence, before she would slowly sit upright, her dress pooled along the surface of the bed. She didn’t even look to see who you were. Apparently, she had assumed that she didn’t know you. Violet even clearly suppressed a gag at your presence.

She would simply yawn, stretching her arms before letting out a soft, melodic hum. She would trail her clawed, elegant fingers through her messy, curly hair before opening her eyes. The toxicity of her poison was reflected in the bright yellow shade they were adorned with. However, instead of screaming at you for entering her chamber, Sweet Violet Cookie would instead sigh dramatically, rolling her eyes, and then placed a hand on her chin.

“Ah. But I see. Another foolish, broken cookie coming to me for ‘guidance’. How naive. Blundering around within my forest above like a little germ. An invasive. Germ. Now. I’d rather you’d leave. I am nocturnal. And you woke me up.” She’d wave her hand dismissively. However out the corner of her eye, you could see her stare at you with a certain intensity.

“Oh, unless you were sent by a certain someoneee~…”

Violet would giggle stupidly, now moving to twirl a strand of her curly hair around her finger. The grin on her face had become a toothy one, which… would’ve been sweet, if not for the fact that her mouth was filled with fangs, that dripped with poison. That same yellow, deadly poison that had ended the lives of so many cookies, with but a single bite.