[m] like a tree-bound kite

POSTED: Fri Feb 23, 2018 9:05 am

WARNING: This thread contains material exceeding the general board rating of PG-13. It may contain very strong language, drug usage, graphic violence, or graphic sexual content. Reader discretion is advised.


Neith checked first the throne room—humbly, of course, for it was not anywhere within his realms of power and responsibility to wander. Elphaba was not there, and fortunately neither was anyone else to have seen him come calling. He didn’t linger on what decorations she had added; better to pretend he had not seem them yet before next time she brought him.

He made his way next for the Blackwoods, never realizing the irony of his search or how on that day, their roles had been flipped and he it was he who sought out her. Their last longer conversation had turned suddenly sour when on subject of Inferni, and though nothing was lost the young man from that point on found himself concerned with her. She’d truly worried for him during his imprisonment. She’d invited him to a party, once, and tended to his wounds from practice. What had he ever done to return these favors, short of simple thanks and a few smiles?

In his fist was a pair of thin, straight bones and a leather string strung somehow between. It was possible she wouldn’t understand his gift, and there was a distinct possibility she would be disgusted by it—but if anyone were to enjoy a gift of bones, it would be Elphaba.

Neith hesitated at edge of the Blackwoods, took a breath, and continued through. To call out her name he thought disrespectful of her rank and their setting, and so he wandered on as such, hoping to make his presence known.

He wandered those woods like an outsider, as misfitting as a blossom in a cold, hard winter.

whose eyes you gonna use?

User avatar
Lin
Luperci
CENTRIFUGE
lost in the static
THE GOOD DOCTOR

POSTED: Sat Mar 03, 2018 3:14 am

Word Count → ??? :: ❤

The further one went in to the Blackwoods, the easier it became to loose their way. The woods were a tangle of overgrown roots and gnarled pines, their trunks and branches warped by proximity and stretching in ghastly distorted shapes for a glimpse of the sunlight lost high above a dense canopy.

Sound was strangely muffled by snow and leaf alike, giving a surreal hush to the little lonely trails that dissected the depths. Beneath this dense and oppressive ambiance, Neith was a lone yet lively figure.

There were others in the trees, of course, but they gave no breath nor rustle with their passage, and watched on with eyes unblinking.

Elphaba, whose regular pilgrimage to the heart of the woods had led her within on this day, paused in her ministrations to listen. In a stained bronze sconce and snuffer she held a fat lard candle, one of many that flickered with flames around the small hidden shrine, the little yellow lights glimmering like will-o-wisps. Pale streaks of wax dripped lazily over branch, log, stone and mulch.

We have a visitor, Maugrim whispered into her ear. The Hierophant tilted her head curiously. The vessel has come to see you, her brother explained with evident pleasure, and quite suddenly the young woman's demeanor changed from coy interest to alarm.

"Hush," She hissed urgently, and as one all the candles around the shrine were blown out.

Only the lone candle, its flame protected by the gentle curve of her hand cupped against the air, remained alight to cast its pleasant warm glow onto her pale, displeased expression.

The thick fabric of her cloak flowed over the chilled woodland floor as Elphaba rose, turning in time to watch as her precious Neith's handsome figure stepped into view with the vagrant air of someone who is lost; More than perhaps either of them realized. It took the young woman a precious moment to try and conceal the dismay on her features. Didn't he know the Blackwoods weren't safe?!

Well now, of course he didn't know. The plan was their little secret, after all.

She felt Maugrim's laughter stirring like warm breath against the back of her neck.

"Neith!" Forcing brightness into her tone, Elphaba stepped away from the shrine and toward the Heiwa man, lifting up onto her toes to give him the customary kiss on one cheek. "I wasn't expecting to see you here."


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 Mar 07, 2018 9:04 am

Part of him hoped Maugrim would appear to him as he wandered. The presence of a poltergeist was endlessly stirring, rousing the webbed and dusty corners of his mind untouched during these times of such paranoia. When he focused so often on the dangerous present—his treachery regarding Ask, his few successes in Salsola prime—the unpredictabilty and irrationalism of the fluid beyond was a tempting repreive.

Unsettling as Maugrim was, Neith and the ghost had a common interest in Elphaba’s welfare, yet never had the man independently reached out after the very first time. The Heiwa was divulged a fascinating secret, but was left behind a closed door. Maugrim did not speak to him, did not acknowledge him.

Neith, a paranoid man of few friends and allies, tried not to react.

The Woods had not steered him and no spirits whispered in his ears, but he found light among the Woods and followed it, listening to the hum of a voice he thought to be Elphaba. She turned from some sort of shine—surely something to honor the dead, entirely innocent—and Neith felt something involuntary flutter within his chest. He acknowledged it, and tried to let it go.

The gift in his hands was tucked behind his back when she drew near, and the Heiwa smiled sweetly and sincerely down at her at the touch of her kiss. “Hi, yeah... I hope this isn’t a bad time, I hadn’t really considered...” He lingered on the shrine past her shoulder.

All too suddenly, he brought the gift in his hands to her eyes. It was an unsightly sort of thing: A single clavicle, whether human or wolf, with a hole driven crudely and with several cracks at both ends, and a thread of leather knotted between. It had a few beads, clearly handmade and painted by untrained hands. Behind it, the face of Neith smiled not quite proudly, but not quite shamefully, either.

“Hey, I made you something,” he said with a nervous shake. “It’s a little strange, but... Well, I thought if anyone wouldn’t be grossed out by it, it would be you.”

With some obvious hesitance, Neith reached and tapped lightly at her right collarbone. “It’s this. The seat of the head. The structure supporting the most important part of the body.” (Or so his studies had led him to believe, anyway.) “It reminds me of you and your new position.”

whose eyes you gonna use?

User avatar
Lin
Luperci
CENTRIFUGE
lost in the static
THE GOOD DOCTOR

POSTED: Sat Mar 17, 2018 3:07 am

Word Count → ??? :: ❤

He was warm, mortal flesh and blood - So strongly a grounding, real presence that Elphaba became quite sharply aware of how little he belonged here. This was Neith's burden, this lack of Belonging, though the witch could hardly perceive the depth of such a sentiment.

After all, she knew nothing of his betrayal, of the treason foul and familial that he had committed. To conspire with the enemy might alone have been enough, but Heiwas never really did anything half-way.

"Of course it isn't," She lied succinctly, feeding it with a flutter of eyelashes, "There's no bad time for-" The man startled her words up short by pulling out something from behind his back, something strange and pale. Elphaba blinked in surprise, and narrowed her eyes to peer closely at the assembled object. It was complex and a little garish, made from hands well suited to precision and detail but less so to spiritual design; As she took it gently from him, the young woman brushed her fingers against his and felt the stirring race up her arm.

The unseen spectre looked on, malignant and curious.

Holding it just so, the Hierophant aligned the item with where he'd tapped her clavicle and saw that it matched. Her stomach churned painfully - not from revulsion, but a growing dread, a dawning realization of the strength of her affection.

He knows the body well, Maugrim remarked for her hearing alone. The sound of his voice was like claws against bark, like teeth grinding together in the back of the jaw, As I would know it, if I could. A muscle in Elphaba's cheek twitched, but she gave the ghost no other response.

"You made this... For me?" She asked the young man instead, carefully protecting the little seed of warmth that grew in her belly at the thought of it, at the center of that looming and unwelcome dismay. The strange concoction of emotions made Elphaba feel light-headed. She'd forged an unbreakable promise, and saw it coming closer to fruition with every passing day; How cruel the heart to abandon it's original machinations!

Tentative, the witch reached out and rested her hand against Neith's cheek. His eyes were bright teal, uncertain but genuine, and with none of the vitriol that she knew must soon fill them. How differently would this body look at her, with sharp green eyes behind it - How differently would it feel beneath her gentle, inquisitive touch?

She had to know, before all the chances for knowing were gone. "Thank you," Elphaba said, and rose up on her toes again to kiss him quickly and before she could second-guess it; Not on the cheek with propriety, as before, but on the lips soft and sullen, sweet and earnest, a shock to them both.

Behind her, the leaves of the pine rustled angrily.


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: Mon Mar 26, 2018 9:17 am

His anxieties quelled little by little once the bone and leather was taken from his hands. He delighted as witness to her surprise and endearment to the strange trinket, and prided himself that she had not been immediately repulsed by its concept. Witchcraft surrounded Neith Heiwa from all angles—Elphaba, Ondine, his late mother, his biological father, his littermate—yet the complexities never smoothed, and the questions never halted. Among the Darkwoods, a sense of something else shrouded them like black, swirling mists, a feeling at constant for him beyond the trees but thick as if tangible between them.

Around Elphaba, the mists swirled with increasing fervor. Navigating through them, even to find concept for a simple gift, was like traveling a labyrinth. By the time she thanked him, his nervous smile had turned stupid, and when she kissed him, it felt as if all the unseen mists of the Blackwoods seized in place.

A fluttering breezed throughout his body. When they parted, he stood stunned.

“I like you, Elphaba,” blurted Neith.

Words came slowly, crafted by the heart while the mind was too stunned to make corrections—words oblivious to the Darkwoods, to the ghosts, to the secrets and the promises she made. Oblivious even to his masquerade and efforts to keep his head down and blend in. “I know I shouldn’t, you’re the Hierophant, but... but I do. Everything you do, it... It just takes my breath. You’re so...”

He was a young man with a first love. She was pretty. She was mysterious. She paid attention to him, doted on him. In retrospect one day, Neith would recognize he hadn’t stood a chance. He thought himself her friend and doctor, and found himself enraptured instead.

In that way, he expected she to be as disappointed as he was in himself. But now, after that kiss... “I won’t make things complicated for you. I just, I just had to say it.”

His eyes were made vivid like ocean pools by passion, but sought refuge away from her face. A single step backward hinted at a threshold, an indecision of whether to go or stay, an uncertainty of right or wrong.

whose eyes you gonna use?

User avatar
Lin
Luperci
CENTRIFUGE
lost in the static
THE GOOD DOCTOR

POSTED: Fri Mar 30, 2018 10:17 am

Word Count → ??? :: wash away, wash away

It was a soft, sweet kiss; They were both young and inexperienced, but Elphaba was earnest in her impulsion and this helped somehow. It was nothing like Brocade's stolen kiss, which had awoken her to the burning forest that turned to ash inside of her bones. This was much simpler, much more innocent. His lips tasted of mint and seagrass. Beneath the gently swaying snow-laden boughs the secret moment held.

She locked it away in her memory, somewhere safe, and stepped back hesitantly.

He was watching her with wide stunned eyes. Endeared to the idea that she'd surprised him - that she'd surprised them both - Elphaba forgot for a moment about her brother's intense ire. She forgot for a moment who it was that she was supposed to be. She forgot for a moment about what they were planning to do to Neith Heiwa; A seed of doubt had been planted there, young and foolish, altruistic in the way that affection can sometimes be.

But Maugrim remembered well.

It happened very quickly, so quickly that she didn't have time to refuse or prepare.

***********

It was strange inside of Elphaba's skin, but not unfamiliar. He'd been here before after all - and had replayed the fond memory of it a hundred times, a thousand times. There was no sweet relief of sleep for the dead. In all his waking hours, the full lifetime of them, Maugrim had only the memories of what had been to keep him company.

This might have been a terrible thing, but nothing was so wretched when before one shone the light of hope: Like a dawn he would one day reach, like a rebirth.

Like life.

Wearing Elphaba was not dissimilar to this, but it wasn't quite right either. She'd grown a lot since their youth. Her body was a young woman's body now, not so androgynous as the last time; It was curved in places that he understood should not have been in his own body, had it survived the womb. This dissonance strongly stung.

But he could bear it for the greater cause.

Elphaba's black lips smiled at Neith. Her head turned slightly, the choppy bangs casting deep shadows over her eyes and hiding the strange expression therein. For a moment her body swayed, repulsed by its invader; But Elphaba was a good little girl, obedient when she thought the decision was her own.

And she loved him very much, her dead brother in the woods. Using this love, Maugrim settled deeper behind her eyes, and found her tongue willing.

"Neith, I-" The young woman paused, crossing her arms loosely in slightly clumsy way that might be forgiven for bashfulness. "I really like you, too," She sounded a little strange, like the inflections were in mild disarray, like a buildup of greater emotion was struggling to get out. A woman could be forgiven these things; Attraction made people act strangely, after all.

Elphaba inhaled deeply. The air was sweet; It tasted so good, so good in the lungs. He'd forgotten how salt could drift so far inland, brought by vagrant winds.

Neith was frozen, on the verge of staying and going, one foot on either side of the decision. Perhaps he'd expected to make a rash idiot of himself - And he had, Maugrim thought. Elphaba was far too pure-blooded, too dangerous, for the likes of him. But she'd done well to gain the Heiwa's affection and his trust. He couldn't let her ruin all that hard work now, not with a moment of silly whimsy, not with everything they'd planned for at stake.

So it was important that deals be made, and kept. "I want to give you something in return for the gift you made for me," Said Elphaba's voice, rich and ripe with genuine excitement, "But it... It isn't ready yet. I'm not ready yet. Can you wait for me, Neith?"

He knew how certain things were done. People did strange things to one another in these Woods - Driven by longing or lust, brought together in ugly and beautiful ways. Maugrim thought about how he felt when he watched them, and this helped him commit to the idea. In response, Elphaba's cheeks flushed prettily, and her gaze grew warm.

She reached out again to let her fingers rest, ever so lightly, on the fine stitching of his shirt.

"Good things come to those who wait," He/She promised. A line of red blood trickled down her nose and over her lips, and dripped suddenly onto the forest floor.


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 Apr 11, 2018 8:18 am

He was utterly swept away in the moment. Had he not been, Neith might have noticed the subtle sway of rebellion in her hips, the gulps of air, the constant and clumsy stir of her fingers as if all had been shrouded in a silk too enticing not to touch. He might have suspected something by putting these together. He didn’t. He suspected nothing at all, save for a bastion of sensitive feelings shut tight within her chest, peeked open for his glimpse then locked once more.

She was a creature of those woods, as alluring and mystifying as the secrets whispered among the leaves, and Neith found himself dangerously enraptured. He looked into the cherries of her eyes and romantically thought them a window to her soul, while in reality they were a window for two.

“I can wait,” he mumbled, alternating between smiling and unsmiling, fluster and acceptance. She liked him. She hadn’t said it outright, but Neith had done well by Elphaba Revlis, by the Hierophant of Salsola, and he took pride in that. For all his failures and shortcomings—with O’Riley, with Briarblack, with Ask Fylgja—Neith Heiwa was not named traitorous, but beloved. The fluttering in his chest insisted as such, even if a cold logic somewhere in the stifled back of his mind thinned its eyes and maintained alert.

He repeated, “I can wait, but... For what? I don’t understand.”

Then, as if prompted to distract, a trickle of red slipped over the same lips where his eyes had been drawn again and again. “You’re bleeding,” he said, and turned away suddenly to dig into his satchel.

“Here.” The doctor cupped her cheek in one hand to stabilize it, and with the other dabbed gently at the trickle with a produced scrap of linen. He smiled, charmed by the touch, by the scent, but it faded as a directionless doubt set in. “Elphaba... Are you certain this is all right?”

whose eyes you gonna use?

User avatar
Lin
Luperci
CENTRIFUGE
lost in the static
THE GOOD DOCTOR

POSTED: Sat Apr 21, 2018 12:00 am

Word Count → ??? :: ❤

The spell fell over Neith Heiwa and he was charmed - Just like that, so simple and effective. Men had always been this way, from the beginning of time as they knew it; Weak minded and willing, soft clay dug ravenously from the earth and sculpted as they may. It was the start of the end for the good doctor. Using Elphaba's hands, the ghost traced a sigil with one elegant finger onto the upturned collar that rested above Neith's heart.

Then her body began to rebel. The last thing he felt was the taste of rust on her lips, the heat there. It was the sweetest thing in all the world.

--------------------

She blinked uncertainly. The doctor's hand was warm where it cupped her cheek, and the linen kerchief he pressed delicately to her nose smelled faintly of herbs. Beneath his gentle touch her head was pulsing painfully, the ache a tear left by abrupt vacancy; She probed around it hesitantly with her awareness, tenderly, like poking with her tongue at a missing tooth.

Extending this consciousness, the young woman cast her senses out in search for her brother, but he was gone.

It took extra effort to smile reassuringly at Neith. She felt dizzy, and sick to her stomach, but managed it regardless. "I'm not worried," Her voice was husky and low, deeper than she'd left it. The Revlis daughter cleared her throat and tried again. "Not when I have the best doctor on the continent to care for me." Taking the fabric from him, the witch tilted her head back and waited a beat for the bleeding to stop before cleaning her face.

Inside was still messy, feelings and emotions in disorder. She would clean that later, when she was alone.

"I am feeling a little tired." He might have had more questions, but they were easily stifled by the little suggestion and at once the handsome young man was beseeching her to lie down for a while, to rest. Elphaba allowed him to take her arm and guide her out of the woods. Neith had the grace not to bring up their kiss - the Hierophant looked a little shaken after all, a little unwell.

Later that day, after he had left her with a bracing cup of tea and the insistence that she sleep, Elphaba lay in her bed. Her knees drawn up to her chest and her tail curled in, she looked small and lost among the plentiful furs; She did not cry, but every now and again pressed her fingers to her lips to stop them from shaking.


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
↟ ↟ ↟

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