the wicked do not walk alone

POSTED: Wed Aug 02, 2017 9:42 pm

Now, if more than ever before, Neith Heiwa kept strictly to himself.

In the days since the incident with the Boss's grandson, Neith avoided even his home. He could not face his mother—still visiting, never leaving. Isabella would learn of his humiliation and, with impossible standards, turn cross with him as she had with Ondine, if only in the Seer's absence. At last, Neith understood Ondine's repeated disappearances, or at the very least sympathized. He too could disappear, could assume a false name and pretend it the truth, for hours, for days, for at least for as long as it took for lingering wounds to heal. He too could leave Salsola for a few blissful days and explore the standards of the world beyond the Thistles, and consider for himself what consequences he would face if he were to flee those borders and hide for the rest of his days.

But he was not so bold. He never was.

Neith wandered, though not far. He spent many an hour among the rocks at the base of a cliff, where he found the bones of a long since dead creature, one of Those that Came Before who died there. When he finished his preliminary sketches, Neith collected what bones he could fit into a satchel and hauled it in trips back to his home in the Ruins, eager to learn more.

It was on the second trip (of what he suspected to be four, to be done over time) that he found the perfumes of one frustrating, intoxicating witch among the winds as he worked his way south. A wide berth had been allowed for the Blackwoods, and Neith refused even to glance in its direction. Clutching close his bag of bones, he held his breath and pressed his pace faster, stepping in time to the pounding in his temples. Best not to be seen. He was much too busy; he had more important things to do.

Salsola
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Lin
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POSTED: Thu Aug 03, 2017 6:47 am

Word Count → ??? :: run Neith she's come to bring you back into the fold

Shame, she thought as she watched the young man gross the grassy plain. From the safety of the gnarled branches of the pines, the little witch looked on as Neith hurried along his path, head bowed with purpose. It wasn't the path she would have chosen for him - Elphaba was certain that the Blackwoods called to the Heiwa man, begging him to wander their endless trails, a siren song to lure in those who by blood or fortune could truly connect with the poisonous secrets hidden inside. With only a little sacrifice he would have easily found a home therein, a purpose to tether the lost vagrancy that so hassled him.

A shame, indeed. But not irreversible. Her slanted eyes traced the handsome lines of his distant face, pupils narrowing in consideration of her careful plan. When she was certain, the dark heiress slipped down from the trees to walk wraithlike among them.

The smell of her - smoke, wild blackberry, heather and ash - drifted out to warn him, as ominous as the shadows of dark-winged birds passing overhead.

She'd taken to favoring a particular manner of dress lately, finding that its subdued and understated style lent well to her more active pursuits. The brick red ao dai, layered over fine black silk, was accented with only a bright gold circlet about her throat that winked as it caught the light. Supposing that this was not excellent apparel for stealth, Elphaba made no attempt to hide her approach once she was beyond the welcome concealment of the pines.

"Wherever are you hurrying off to?" She disliked having to raise her voice to call out to him, but couldn't risk him avoiding her altogether; He was much too important to her plan. "Why, Neith Heiwa, one might suppose you are up to something, watching you bustle along with such purpose," She did not run to catch up with him, considering him trapped now by his impeccable manners to wait for her to meander closer. As such, Elphaba took her time in the approach, and her lascivious red eyes raked him with all the docility of a wildfire as she did so.


we need a forest fire
Salsola
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Alaine
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burn the witch
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POSTED: Sat Aug 12, 2017 4:42 pm

By her voice he took pause and sucked in breath, not unlike a child caught misbehaving. To flee was to draw further attention to himself, and given no other option Neith breathed deep, brushed down his front to ensure his buttons were flat and proper, and as he turned to face her he considered several excuses plausible to dismiss himself with promptly.

"Why, Elphaba," he mimicked her tone, smiling, "would it bother you to know if I was?"

He shifted his satchel from hip to rear to remove it as a conversation piece, and covered up the motion with a dusting of his clothes and no pause in exchange. "Sorry to say, but my purpose is only to return home and to my studies without delay. I suppose I might be caught bustling to do so, in your words."

Neith fought the urge to glance the curves of her form-fitting gown by turning his eyes instead to the backdrop of the Blackwoods. He felt no eyes following him from its depths—and why would they, when the trees could send along a messenger instead?

He smirked. "I might think you were up to something yourself, stopping bypassers just to ask strange questions. Don't you think?"

Salsola
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POSTED: Tue Aug 22, 2017 3:31 am

Word Count → ??? :: ---

She watched him freeze as her sailing words caught in his ears. Victorious, the little witch smiled viciously at his unturned back.

By the time he had composed himself enough to face her, Elphaba had done likewise and was regarding him with only docile curiousity; Though of course he undoubtedly knew by now that there was not a docile bone in the entirety of her body. "Bother me?" She shook one finger at him chidingly. "Oh, absolutely not! It would delight me," He was settling his clothing, brushing it clear though it was mostly impeccable - the young woman did not think overmuch on this. She was a vain creature also.

Neith was prepared for her this time. He had his guard up; It was so clear in the way that he regarded her that he had chosen to distance himself from what they had experienced together - What she had shared with him. In some way, this prickled at Elphaba. It felt strangely like rejection... But, of course, nobody would ever reject her, and so that could not be it.

He must be afraid, the little witch thought, her red eyes sympathetic. Afraid of the power of what she had revealed to him; Afraid of what it meant, what it represented.

"I'm always up to something," The young woman admitted freely, her black lips curling up winsomely in a coy grin. "But that is no matter. What are you studying today that so desperately interests you?" What could possibly interest you more than me?


we need a forest fire
Salsola
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Alaine
Luperci Witch she hath or consulteth with a familiar spirit
burn the witch
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POSTED: Mon Aug 28, 2017 7:23 pm

She asked his business and his smile persisted, but there was some pause while he chose his words and fought every instinct to open his satchel to her and begin a dissertation on the bones inside. For one, his thoughts on those tucked-away remains were only thoughts; he had a series of theories as to the purpose of each shaft, each knob, each cavity, but hadn't a live body he could glance into for confirmation. For two, Elphaba Revlis—the witch of the Blackwoods, the daughter of the Lord Commander—did not need ammunition. Surely she would interpret his studies as an interest in the macabre, and drag him deeper and deeper into the woods to feed an intrigue he did not have.

That is to say, an intrigue he would not admit he had.

"Herbs and roots beyond our borders, standard fare." It was then the ache in his skull spiked; there was no covering the visible wince and frown, although he cleared his throat and followed with a smart, "Nagging headache, you see. I've spent some time with Ros and your sister. He has a mind for plants and their uses."

After a moment spent lingering, Neith nodded to the woods. By turning with intent to leave her, he pushed her brother and his realm into his peripherals. "Now, then. I wouldn't want to keep you from... your woods."

Salsola
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POSTED: Thu Aug 31, 2017 5:23 am

Word Count → ??? :: ---

She watched the things unsaid as they danced across his face, and hovered in the pause between his words. Neith Heiwa was not particularly good at keeping secrets, Elphaba thought, though she found it deeply endearing; Thinking only that it made him susceptible, and too-kind.

His attempts to seem dis-interesting or humble would only ever fuel her ravenous hunger for compliance. The little witch relished nothing so much as a good challenge.

The handsome young man had just started on some airy falsity or another when something strange happened; His face contorted, just for a moment, but she saw the unmistakable echo of pain therein. Her expression changed as though in a reflection of this - From sultry humor to wide-eyed concern, like pulling on the skin of some long-dead martyr. "Are you unwell?" Her voice was warm and inviting, dripping with syrupy worry, "Oh, I couldn't possibly let you walk back by yourself, not if you're having an ill turn."

It was as simple as that. She turned to face the way he had been headed, and brought all the forceful decisiveness of her bloodright along with the motion. Later, she would think on his comment about Ros and Indra, and feel some prickling discomfort. Your woods... "My father used to have terrible migraines, you know," It was difficult to keep the angelic sincerity to her expression when talking of pathetic Lokr, but she tried admirably, "I know how to make a lovely tea that helps with the pain."


we need a forest fire
Salsola
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Alaine
Luperci Witch she hath or consulteth with a familiar spirit
burn the witch
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POSTED: Wed Sep 13, 2017 6:13 pm

"No! No, I am fine. Nothing to worry about." Painfully fine, really, given how often his headaches came and went. But Elphaba had already worked herself up worried about him and forcefully set their path ahead, now conjoined. Maybe it won't be so bad, he told himself. Maybe some time away from the Woods and Maugrim would do her good. Maybe he would have a chance to figure her out.

Neith would think this several times in the course of their "friendship," regardless of its twists and turns, not because he was too forgiving an individual or too slow a learner, but because there was something to Elphaba Revlis he found enrapturing beneath it all. It was not her bloodline or her curves, though the latter certainly helped—it was the sheer fact that everything she was seemed so impossible. There had to be more to discover, to learn, to understand about the way she worked. There had to be. So much of her seemed like performance.

"When you insist like that, how could I say no?" Neith offered her his arm and a smile, committing himself to make the best of what he could. His head was pounding, but his sack of bones remained still a secret, and it was a pleasant enough day. "I'd be honored."

She mentioned her father, drawing surprise. Neith admired Lokr's stoicism with this in mind, for he had never heard rumors or suspected the Lord Commander suffered such trials. "Is that right? I'm sorry to hear it. Though, now you have me curious. Is there a special ingredient for your tea that my sister and cousin don't know about? You wouldn't knock me out, I hope."

He grinned, teasing, unaware that he might have let slip too much.

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Salsola