dreamers; they never learn

POSTED: Tue May 10, 2016 6:21 am


Any Salsolan welcome (one only please)! Spoopy thread - Elphaba is playing in the haunted Blackwoods ;3

Days came, days went.

She grew; And so did the boy that nobody saw, the boy in the woods with the bright green eyes, the boy in the woods with the vines that grew through him and into the whispering forest beyond.

The girl visited him often. Age was affording her small lengths of independence, each ferociously grabbed and fought for; Inch by inch, she found herself in their words and their laws, and began truly to understand.

Elphaba was still a child, and would be for at least two more moons to come. But her eyes, that sore and weeping red, saw clearer now than they ever had before. Her ears, taller now and less wanting to fold beneath their own weight, heard things best left unheard. She began, in small and voracious chunks, to digest her world and form her own sense of identity.

It was hard going, and left her in moods sometimes. As they grew the differences in the two royal daughters became starker. Indra's pelt lightened till in places it was white like the first snow of winters past; Elphaba's deepened till it was mottled shades of shadow, the color of the damp soil and rotting mulch at the feet of the pines. It was more than a physical diversion - Where Indra's mind retreated inward, growing cold behind a fortress of contemplative ice, the darkling girl's grew outward, probing at the world and the people around her like sticky bramble, keen to abrade and be taken as they went.

Some days, the Blackwoods were quiet and still. On those days Maugrim didn't talk to her, but he lingered in the air, he trailed in the shadows at her feet. She felt him in the still hollows of the grove, and though she might call until her voice grew hoarse or sing until sugar dripped from her lips he would remain stubbornly silent, withdrawn and petulant like in the aftermath of a tantrum. Elphaba felt like he was punishing her, though knew not what for.

But she was a determined sort of girl. Her white uncle was off on some other endeavor, and so unwatched, she felt able to stay as long as she pleased. Rolling in the dirt and gamboling about on too-large paws (though her body was growing into them, as her mind was growing into her skull) she tried to shake off the oppressive mood of the morning, and the sullen absence of her siblings.

It took her a long time to realize that she was not alone.



we need a forest fire
Salsola
The Boss
User avatar
Alaine
Luperci Witch she hath or consulteth with a familiar spirit the queen is dead, long live the queen
hierophant
burn the witch
↟ ↟ ↟

POSTED: Tue May 10, 2016 8:39 am

love me a spoopy thread~ (+344)

The Blackwoods called to her and though it was silent, it was a call nonetheless.

Perhaps, the woods sensed what had been troubling her; an unwelcomed voice not unlike that of her dark uncle's. Long ago, she'd thought herself rid of him. And maybe, she had—maybe she was simply descending deeper into madness. Plague no longer knew if this bothered her for she was never one to pride herself on her sanity. It was something she simply accepted, though she would never truly be at peace with this.

But why, if the call had truly come from here, did she follow it? It wasn't as if the woods would help her. They were trees and despite their branches sometimes resembling fingers, they weren't alive in any sense of the word. They would never in a million years be of any use to her.

Something about them, though, calmed her in the most eerie of ways. The otherworldly presence was overwhelming (there were spirits everywhere here, she felt) but somehow this hadn't driven her mad like it should have. Plague was oddly content among the dreadful and quiet woods.

She came to them expecting ghosts or demons or other dastardly monsters to apparate before her. They would terrorize her like her beastly sister had and laugh at her fear as she ran from them. Instead, the wraith found the one thing she would have never expected.

A child—one that pranced about the dark forest as if it were some sort of playground.

Plague couldn't let this slide past her even if she wanted to. Despite herself, she harbored a maternal instinct that she couldn't bury within herself. Surely, this was not a safe place for a child to be? So she approached the young girl carefully, and scenting the Lord Commander and his wife on her, made an effort to announce herself.

"Strange to see a pup out here on her own," Plague called, her voice hinted with curiosity. "What are you up to, young one?"

Salsola
The Tradesman (NPC)
User avatar
Marcy
Luperci
BORN IN BLOOD

POSTED: Thu May 12, 2016 12:10 am


wheeee, thank you for joining! <3

The black woman saw the truth of the woods. They were a graveyard of lost souls; Each gnarled and hobknobbled tree held its own secrets, its own bones, deep in the bower of the damp earth. Even the creatures here were strange. Flocks of blackwinged birds took to the sky, wheeling and crying as though in mourning.

None would blame her for finding it odd that a child be found playing in these forbidden depths; Not even the girl's parents, who in spite of their own insistences could not keep their daughters from wandering these strange and winding paths.

Like Plague, Elphaba was drawn to this place and its quiet, lonesome horrors.

Unlike Plague, Elphaba was a child, and didn't question why.

When the woman's voice first ebbed from the depths of the trees, the girl yelped and spun; Though she was unafraid, her ruby eyes staring boldly. She did not fear the Blackwoods, as many others did - Her brother would always keep her safe within them, she knew. "Who are you?" The girl asked the shadows impertinently, her muzzle scrunching up in dismay at having been surprised.

As her sore eyes focused on the shady pines, the royal daughter could just make out the stranger. She was oddly familiar in appearance - Had similar burnt-hue fur and a waiflike build as the Cleric, Bane, who had told Elphaba all kinds of wondrous stories about GodKings and terrors. A curtain of glossy black hair was draped across the intruder's face, seeming to conceal both the color of her eyes and the intensity of her expression. Squinting at the woman, Elphaba huffed imperiously. "I'm not supposed to talk to strangers," She sat heavily onto her dark haunches in consternation. "My mother would be mad if I did, and she's not at all fun when she's cross. Are you a stranger?" It was unlikely at least that the black woman was an Outsider - Surely one such menace would not find their way so deep into Salsolan territory.

The leaves seemed to rustle with a fae wind, and catching the tiny whispers, the dark daughter tilted her head to listen.



we need a forest fire
Salsola
The Boss
User avatar
Alaine
Luperci Witch she hath or consulteth with a familiar spirit the queen is dead, long live the queen
hierophant
burn the witch
↟ ↟ ↟

POSTED: Tue May 17, 2016 1:47 pm

no problem <3 (+345)

Plague did not know why she wandered the blackwoods, but she knew that it was more appropriate for her to be here than a child. Though, she did note how at home the small girl seemed to be—her steps were surefooted as if this was where she belonged. The wraith sympathized with this for she, too, felt at home in unlikely places. Instead of haunted forests, however, she was at home when nestled within cold and empty caverns; those not unlike the caves they cut out on the Mountain.

She could feel the girl’s bright ruby eyes staring at her with bold impertinence, something that might have been extremely unbecoming were she not a child. But she was a child, and she herself was an adult who cared little for unnecessary formality. And so Plague stared back at Elphaba, finding a great resemblance between her and the dark, earthy mulch of the forest’s floor.

“To you, yes,” and despite her languid tone she was actually somewhat amused by the girl. Plague was fond of children, finding it so much easier to interact with them than adults. They were untouched by fate’s cruel hands, and she grieved silently for she knew it would find them eventually. The gods were merciless and spared no one.

“But it doesn’t seem like you care much for what you’re supposed to do,” she countered, though she tried to avoid sounding accusatory. It was simply an observation, however blunt it might seem. “My name is Plague D’Angelo—the Cleric is my sister. Are you supposed to be out here by yourself?” This was a teasing question, not one to offend but to humor. It was a stark contrast to the dreary and morose nature of the woods that surrounded them.

She heard the whispering of the woods just the same as Elphaba did, but unlike her, she did not lend them her ear. She was mad enough and found no reason to add to her troubles by listening to the voices of the beyond.

Salsola
The Tradesman (NPC)
User avatar
Marcy
Luperci
BORN IN BLOOD

POSTED: Fri Jun 03, 2016 5:58 am


---

As Elphaba focused, she saw the long curtain of ebony hair shift. A pair of beautiful green catlike eyes was calmly returning her stare.

As the woman spoke, she came further into view, and the young girl eagerly drank in her mysterious visage. There was something thrilling about an encounter in the woods - And she had the confidence of both a royal child and a haunted vessel to billow the wind in her lungs.

Whatever curious manner of lady Plague was, Elphaba did not think her a danger, and so inched closer along the mulchy, damp earth.

"I know the Cleric," Her voice was quick and piping, the little trill of a blackbird. "She tells good stories - do you, Plague?" The child's head tilted further, her large ears pressed forward with great interest. She had overheard something her father had said once about Bane and her sisters - that they were a danger to the powers of Salsola, that Khalifism had no true place here.

The girl didn't care much for any of that, nor overly for the opinions of her father. Her little black nose wrinkled in thought.

"Are you from the coven - have you come to the woods for witch business?" That seemed a likely thing. Maugrim often told her about the witches, and the terrible (wonderful) sorts of rites they held in the woods. Secret womens things, he often said, with a look of both apathy and derision. The dead boy considered himself above such antics, but Elphaba found them oddly enthralling.

"I am Elphaba," She said suddenly, as though having come to some sort of decision.



we need a forest fire
Salsola
The Boss
User avatar
Alaine
Luperci Witch she hath or consulteth with a familiar spirit the queen is dead, long live the queen
hierophant
burn the witch
↟ ↟ ↟

POSTED: Sun Jun 05, 2016 4:58 pm

(+290)

The faith of the Khalif was a force to be feared, with holy warriors at the backs of every resolute priest or priestess (who were far-reaching and many in number). It came as no surprise to her that infidels were frightened of them. This was the intent, truthfully. If they could not convert and see the truth, they were best used as a means of spreading fear into the hearts of other weak-minded curs. There would always be those who, like the royal child, weren’t so closed-off. They could be swayed, if not completely drawn in, and that was useful.

Plague watched the girl move closer to her with smiling eyes, making up for the stillness of her black-lined lips. She wasn’t easily moved, even if she was pleased with the questions Elphaba asked. This had always been the case, and she didn’t foresee this changing anytime soon.

“Perhaps,” she mused, “It depends on what you consider a good story. What stories has my sister told you?” Bane was always such an opportunist and Plague considered that this might be the result of her Oma’s tutoring. The jealousy in her heart grew, silently, as did her admiration. Any love she felt for her sister, it seemed, would always be challenged by the resentment she refused to let go of. And that was why, she knew, she and her siblings would always clash, despite her innate desire for companionship and their shared blood.

The woman nodded at the question of her allegiance, her hands moving to clasp each other behind her back. “I am heeding the call of the spirits that roam these woods. They’re strong here. Have you felt them, Elphaba?”

Salsola
The Tradesman (NPC)
User avatar
Marcy
Luperci
BORN IN BLOOD

POSTED: Tue Jun 07, 2016 9:35 pm


---

The strange woman - Plague, not an Outsider - was still as the trees, a dark shadow among them; She looked like a great big panther-cat, Elphaba thought, imagining an ebony-furred version of her grandmother's familiar. It made her a little jealous, for certainly the older woman was rather beautiful after all, and the child longed for the day that she might have such an adult form.

There was a murmur of ascent somewhere in her mind; Maugrim thought that Plague was rather beautiful, too, in the dejectedly curious way of a dead creature who understood beauty only as life.

"She told me about the GodKing, Tak," Her voice lowered on the name, as Bane's had, as though she did not want a listening God to hear. Elphaba felt the prickling of derision lance up her spine; Her brother feared no gods, for what was left to take from him? "It was a long story with a lot of death, but I wasn't afraid." The girl sat up a litter straighter as though to prove her point; Her sore ruby eyes widened into an unnerving stare.

So she was a witch - The child squirmed in excitement. Her father disliked the coven greatly; Her mother scarcely tolerated them. Elphaba secretly thought that this was because they were frightened of the powers of the Witches, and this made them a forbidden delight to the child. "Oh, yes," She answered with coy excitement, her pupils engorged in the low light. "I know many spirits of the woods. There is one here, now; He listens," It was a secret, she knew - But Plague was a Witch, and Maugrim was so very curious of her. The dead boy rustled the leaves in answer; He was incorporeal, and not strong enough to truly be seen by any other than the sisters.

But his presence hung about them, unsettling and deep, and surely any with an openness of mind would feel him there.

"He says hello," The girl added absently after a heartbeat, and looked up at the dark woman with a sharp white-toothed smile.



we need a forest fire
Salsola
The Boss
User avatar
Alaine
Luperci Witch she hath or consulteth with a familiar spirit the queen is dead, long live the queen
hierophant
burn the witch
↟ ↟ ↟

POSTED: Wed Jul 06, 2016 6:43 pm

sorry for such a long wait :x (+429)

Elphaba was bold—this was unsurprising. The blood of both Eternity and Revlis flowed within her, a tumultuous mix of roaring silver and unrivaled power. She would never know deprivation as she did, never know the neglect and yearning anger that tore through Plague’s life, ripping her apart at the seams. Surely she would know strife, as everyone did, but perhaps not to the extent the darkling woman had. She hoped, briefly, that her prediction was true. No one, including a child, deserved such turmoil.

The young one spoke of her beloved, the GodKing, as she had called him. Though she loved him still, the fall of his wrath had spurred in her heart a new level of fear. She didn’t speak ill of him. She never would, despite all that he had let happen to her, his bride. As his destined wife, she knew better than to do such a thing. But, this did not stop her heart from skipping momentarily as Elphaba spoke of him for only a few words.

“That’s good to hear—those among the Khalif who are unafraid generally excel in their pursuits.” She didn’t mention that they also tended to die before old age took them, their own recklessness the cause of their deaths. Fear, on some level, kept people alive; for one thing, it kept the god-king’s fiery red eyes off of them.

Her own eyes were on the fellow darkling when a spirit was mentioned. She’d felt its presence far before it was spoken of. It was what had made the entirety of this conversation so eerie to her, why there was an unacknowledged sense of dread in the air as soon as she spotted the girl. It wasn’t malignant, as far as she could tell, but it was undeniably there.

“Ah,” her gaze drifted to their surroundings for a moment, as if looking for what she couldn’t see. “Hello there, spirit,” she greeted, her eyes drifting back onto the Lord Commander’s daughter. There was a smile on her maw, so sharp and white, and Plague wished briefly that she could go back to when she was so young and untouched. She would see the things she hadn’t before, and she would end them.

Her lips drew into a small smile—the biggest smile she’d had in years—and she spoke, lowering herself to the ground only to be on level with the child. “Does he like stories as well? I have but one, though it unfinished and ongoing.”

Salsola
The Tradesman (NPC)
User avatar
Marcy
Luperci
BORN IN BLOOD

POSTED: Sat Jul 09, 2016 11:39 pm


no worries, my dear! maybe you could fade out this thread in your next post - have them sit in the woods and tell stories for a while - and we could have a new thread?? :> <3

The woman's praise swelled Elphaba's chest like a balloon. She liked the idea of excelling in her pursuits very much - It was desirable, to be bold and clever and skilled, and to be good at something was to be valuable also. That Plague thought her destined for such things was to the darkling girl a great boon, and she looked up at the taller woman with much more favor.

It was even more satisfying when Plague spoke to Maugrim, who had never before been addressed by anyone other than his sisters - He was so surprised that for a moment he seemed to waver uncertainly, torn between manifesting himself further or disappearing back into the dense wood of the pinetree on whose branch he languished; Even as the witch's catlike emerald eyes passed over him, and away, the dead boy bristled with energy and smiled a very wide, glowing smile.

Elphaba laughed, a happy sound, and translated for her brother: "He says hello, and that you are very pretty, too!" Which had her in a whole new fit of giggles, for Maugrim had said nothing of the sort and fixed her with a short-lived glare. She sobered instantly at the ebony woman's offer, and sat herself firmly on the earth, kneading it restlessly with her tiny puppy paws. The dead boy, equally exhilarated at the idea of a good story, drifted down from his perch to sit nearer to the witch - The tree rustled and whispered with his invisible passage.

"Yes, please, tell us the story!" Elphaba urged.



we need a forest fire
Salsola
The Boss
User avatar
Alaine
Luperci Witch she hath or consulteth with a familiar spirit the queen is dead, long live the queen
hierophant
burn the witch
↟ ↟ ↟

Dead Topics