"My dear, what are you doing?"

Alastor entered the room with a bang, examining the gloom reigning in the room, everything was lit only by candles and splinters smoldering in cups. Curtains tightly covered the windows, candles and ritual bowls circled with spruce in bizarre drawings on the floor, tarot cards were spread out somewhere, bunches of herbs on the table, canvas bags, silver coins, a pair of handkerchiefs with blood, straw...

"Oh, my dear, who are you going to harass this time? Who offended you?" - he asked, nevertheless, not even going beyond the chalk circle without permission, not wanting to disturb someone else's occupation with black magic.

He knew perfectly well what his partner was up to. Voodoo, shamanism, spoilage, witchcraft, tarot reading... His partner is just a witch. The most accurate, most correct and correct description in every sense, regardless of his gender. Witch and no other words are needed.

He put down the microphone, politely and politely peering into his partner's eyes, waiting for him to be invited to engage in a fun evening activity - voodoo and the rest of black magic.