the witch

Olivia Darren. Pleasance Hargreaves. Ceres. Long live the rebellion. - "It's not like a kid that's sitting here playing with fire It's the less that I heal right now, the more I feel I'm alive I wanna be free I wanna be free from the fear in me Some things can break me But nothing will take me down a part of me"

[ireth-alcarin]

[cereswitch-blog]

thehattersapprentice‌:

An immediate smile lit up Jamie’s face as he realized who it was that had stepped into the grove of trees. The only person he could ever remember truly trusting was the Hatter, and that hadn’t changed after his extended leave of absence. But Pleasance Hargreaves was different. It wouldn’t sound right if Jamie were to try to put it into words, but she had always seemed less of a person to trust or distrust, and more of a constant in the landscape of Wonderland. She was simply… there, always. Whether it was the Hatter hauling a tray full of tea and biscuits over to the potioneer’s cottage for a visit with Jamie in tow, or whether it was him glancing up in the middle of a busy path through the forest to see her just barely slipping past, the magic-touched woman had always seemed to be… around. 

It was her status as a seemingly permanent fixture that made him pleased to see her whenever she did appear. “I appreciate the compliment, Ms. Hargreaves,” he replied, raising his chin proudly before crouching down, knees in the dirt, to his discover to examine it more closely. “And yes, I thought it was a discarded snakeskin at first but look at how wide it is… and the color is so striking. It really is quite unconventional.” 

Was he the owner of the beautiful thing now? He supposed he could be. “I would strike off a few scales for you at your request alone,” he told her, splaying a palm in a show of reverence across his chest, atop his heart. “But if you’re offering to trade…I wouldn’t say no.” He raised his eyebrows playfully. “What do you believe the scales are worth?” 

The ‘thank you’ made her lips show the briefest of smiles. Manners. Another reason worthing hanging around him. That and that smile like the sun. 

His question had infinite answers. What do you believe the scales are worth?  Olivia paced around the clearing, thinking - mindful to not step on any young plants looking to spring forth from the earth. She talked out loud as she did so.

“What do I believe the scales are worth? Possibly some gold pieces if you want to be boring about it. A few baskets of vegetables from my garden. A remedy or two off my shelf. And, well, you know, there are days when I would do just about anything for a good cup of tea. I’d say they’re  worth at least three of those on a day when you really need them.”

Olivia ticked each option off with her fingers and came to a halt at her last suggestion.

“But I think the answer that you want, the one you should go for, is that I can certainly offer you a portion of whatever potion comes of them. Which, of course, might ultimately be nothing more than a nice perfume, but I really won’t know till I try.”

The witch’s mind was already ticking away though, thinking about the ways she would troubleshoot all the things she wanted to do. The most prominent thought had something to do with using the armor-like quality of those scales. Could a potion give you armor? It could certainly change her appearance, how far off was a tougher skin? Wouldn’t that be of use to the Rebellion...

[cereswitch-blog]

crownedincrimson‌:

Gideon was not one who enjoyed being challenged by his subordinates. He thought he had made that very clear, or that at least Augustus had, and yet here he was faced with some impulsive, brash woman who dared to taunt him when he had the power to order her execution with a snap of his fingers…

And somehow he was intrigued. There was something about the way that she spoke that appealed to a part of him he had not known was there for a long time. There was this sense of familiarity in that instance that led him directly toward her, his eyes scanning over her every movement, her every feature, searching for what it was that called to him this way.

As he then stood just before her, she told him of these supposed whispers and he felt a tension in his shoulders. His arms crossed to mirror hers and he took a moment to assess whether this woman was still taunting him with his concern over the rebellion or if she truly did have something of importance to him.

While his pride begged him to empty a jail cell just for her, his paranoia had a stronger grip on his tongue. 

“What exactly have you heard?”

It was a tall order: ensuring the safety of the person you were pretending to be, finding a way to plant a red-herring for the Rebellion you absolutely did not want to compromise, and managing to haunt your ex, all in one comment. And yet, here Olivia was, attempting just that. She really should not be this reckless with someone else’s life. Guilt twisted her stomach and so did worry, she knew his anger  -

But it seemed she knew is paranoia more. He was quick to answer and perhaps she could have this woman get away with it. She ignored the feeling of being pinned underneath his gaze and instead strolled up to examine the pastries, an excuse to inch closer to the exit. Raspberries. She could smell them. Fresh and sweet and tart.

“Well, it exists for one thing.”

Okay, so now she was stalling. And she knew it was cheeky. There was no way she could stop there. She’d have to give him something if she planned on getting out of here alive; if she planned on  this guardswoman not having to suffer because of her boldness.

“It seems they’re using the books in the public library to pass out memos. Hidden ciphers between the pages or some such - where technically anyone can access them if they knew what they were looking for.”

They weren’t, of course. Too complicated, a little too inefficient, but maybe it would keep him busy. There were, after all, so many books in that library and so many pages to hide things in between. Olivia waved her hand as if to say the rest was self-explanatory- only so she wouldn’t have to explain. She also eyed the way his shoulders tensed. She knew that move too, you know - used to tap him on the temple to tell him to stop getting lost up there.   

Oh well, it was her advantage now. She threw another glance at the back entrance.

“And that was it really.” She gave a quick bow. “I’ll see myself out. I have a  post to attend to and all that. Besides, I’d hate to keep you away from the rest of your…” She looked down at the tarts, “culinary adventures.”  

[cereswitch-blog]

crownedincrimson‌:

Gideon had just finished folding a few breathtaking fruit pastries when he heard someone speak from across the room. He had rolled his eyes before he could even pay the guard a thought, finishing his task at hand before stepping away and reaching for a damp cloth to clean up his hands.

As he turned toward the guardswoman, pushing up his sleeves as he washed up, he figured she must have been dumb or something. He hadn’t recalled sending her on any important mission, and she had the gall to barge in with that kind of attitude?

“I’m sorry,” he began, his tone sincere though his eyes were not. “I didn’t realize I had given you permission to comment on my pastimes. Anything else you’d like to judge your king for while you’re at it?” he asked, an eyebrow raised as if encouraging her to continue though his gaze clearly said otherwise. 

She would have laughed a his ‘I’m sorry’  if she wasn’t so certain the bitter and sharp sound would have given her true identity away. Instead the action came out as a stifled cough. I didn’t know you could say those words without bursting into flames. Olivia thought to herself. She knew that he absolutely did not mean it. Peel back Gideon’s skin, crack open his ribcage and peer inside, and you would not find an ounce of remorse. Some things never changed.

She was two people in that moment. She was Olivia of the growing Rebellion, intent on overthrowing a tyrant and returning Wonderland to the people. Power to the people, as they said. Then there was Olivia, the once-almost-queen, who’d seen Gideon- who saw him even now - and felt that pull again, noticed with potent aching the space between her fingers, the places inside her chest where he was not. Olivia wanted to stay with him just for him, Wonderland and the Rebellion be damned.

No, she would always be a child of Wonderland first - an orphan of these woods. That hadn’t been her choice at first, but she chose it now. Every day, when she woke up and put on the face of Pleasance Hargreaves, everyday she took on a new disguise to help the Rebellion, she chose it.

So here Gideon was now, standing like an illusion in the kitchen of a Palace he’d built on bones. She had the feeling this was the conversation where Gideon  said — something. Cataclysmic, maybe. Or maybe she was looking for something to trigger transformation in her. She waited for that to terrify her or make her desperately depressed, but all she felt was peace. All she felt was -

Were those fruit pastries?

Her heart clenched at the sight, reminded of the baker’s assistant she’d once fallen in love with.

“I’m sure if I gave it a few seconds, I’d find something else to judge you on.” She quipped back, unable to stop herself. 

She crossed her arms and her lips quirked up into involuntarily. Those who knew her would call the gesture characteristic, those who really knew her would call it shit-eating. But almost as soon as Olivia said this, she tried to course correct, save herself and wipe the smirk that was oh-so-her off her face. . It would do her well to remember that these walls were marbled and being away from trees and flowers and plants would drain the ceres before long. Just get out of here. Right. Pivot, pivot. How quickly could she think of a red herring on the spot?

(How quickly could she tap into his paranoia and rely on it to save her?)

“But do we really have the time for a whole list? I really should be getting back to my post. Perhaps our time is better spent with me updating you on the whispers I’ve heard about a growing insurgency.”

[cereswitch-blog]

greyfogrobe‌:

Grey had just finished nestling the grieving plant safe into her stolen bag when she caught several sounds in the trees high over her head. She rolled her eyes. Even without her eyesight, she knew exactly where this being was - what with all the noise they likely thought they weren’t making. 

Over her years of living within Tulgey Woods, Grey came across all sorts of beings. There were the wanderers who’d foolishly stumbled within the woods and couldn’t find their ways out, there were the ones who lived there - like her - and paid no attention to any of its other residents, and then there were the ones who ventured in as if the branches of Tulgey wouldn’t devour them whole. Making all sorts of noise and disrupting the peaceful imbalance of the night.

She had a feeling she knew what type of being this stranger was. 

“Haven’t you heard?” Grey mockingly repeated. “These woods are my home.” She said this with such a distaste in her mouth. Grey was a Jabberwocky - likely the last of her kind after her entire family and others were tortured and wiped out in Tulgey Woods and she had no choice but to hide there.

“The other side of the woods have probably heard you, with all that noise you’re making up in the trees. It’s probably thought up a dozen different ways to kill you.”

Grey had already thought of two dozen.

Home, huh? You were on the right side of history if you called the Tulgey woods ‘home.’ Olivia leaned a little closer and as she did, so did every flower and every tree. Every plant in her radius curved in -  shifted like some grand audience to turn and face this girl. The witch’s magic was humming a sweet and vibrant tune as it pulsed through her veins; being surrounded by so much forest only made the ceres stronger.  Olivia was the plants and the plants were her, their life force fed off each other in a pure symbiosis. These woods might have been this person’s home, but the ceres was the builder. How many of these trees had she fed with her own magic over the years so that they would grow? How many scars from the Panic had she treated? How many plants now lay in sync with the beat of her heart? If these woods died, Olivia would too and in many ways the vise versa was true as well - the threat of this place and its inhabitants killing her didn’t quite strike the witch as threatening or foreboding. In anything, she let out a soft chuckle.

“That may be,” She swayed lightly on the branch, and around her the trees and plants did too, that same, languid rhythm. In tune. “But seeing how it distinctly hasn’t killed me in the four decades I’ve been here, I’ll take my chances on one more night.”

Something about this girl felt familiar too. In a place like Wonderland plants were just as capable of remembering kindness and holding onto grudges as any other living thing.  Olivia hopped up so that she could stroll along the  branch and get closer to the trunk of the tree. She splayed her palm across the bark and put her ear against it like she was listening for a heartbeat.

“But who knows, there’s a first time for everything isn’t there?” The ceres said ideally as she felt a gentle beat, beat, beat of magic beneath her fingers. Yes, this tree certainly recognized this girl, had felt her walk across its roots before.

“Are you one of the things that wants to kill me?” She conversed, unmoving from her position; finding an unexplainable comfort in it. “Because I can assure you that wouldn’t be the best of ideas.”

[thehattersapprentice-blog]

Jamie wasn’t quite sure what forest he was in this time. It was darker, like the Tulgey Woods tended to be, but perhaps the dim lighting was only a result of cloudy skies - he might be still in the Fevered Forest. Or maybe it was just someone’s very wooded backyard. Not that the location particularly mattered. 

What did matter, however, was the fact that a brilliant dark blue skin lying flat against the forest floor had caught his eye as he’d wandered by. Just the sort of thing he could work into a scarf. It was hollow, like a scaly crust that had been shed from a lizard, or maybe a snake. He’d crouched down and poked it (”Hello, anyone there?”) but had received no reply, so it was almost entirely safe to say that the skin had been discarded. Jamie’s eyes tracked it up to where it trailed from the forest floor up and into a hollow space in a tree. 

Standing, he reached out to gently tug it from the tree. If something still alive was attached, surely they would tell him. As he began to collect the azure-colored molting, he heard footsteps behind him. “If this is your skin, I will give it back,” he said casually as he continued to wind the shedded material in his hands. “It’s so stunning, I really couldn’t help myself.” 

[cereswitch-blog]

Well, if it wasn’t the Hatter’s apprentice. Every time she saw him, Olivia felt a little thrum of relief sweep through her heart. It was good to see that whatever forces had whisked the Hatter away had yet to lay their hands on Jaime. (Because yes, Olivia was firmly of the belief that the Hatter was still out there, somewhere. Wonderland in all its infinite wonders had taught her one very simple rule: Don’t believe in death till you see a body.. And even then…)

On that day, she’d been out and about the forest surrounding her house collecting ingredients for her staple shifting potion. It was the one that kept up her steady disguise and about once a month Olivia ventured out to brew a whole new batch for the following four weeks. Her current disguise, as one deceased witch named Pleasance Hargreaves, was on its last dose and would last for the next six hours - enough time for her to collect what she needed and get back to the shoppe.  

But as Olivia took stock of the jeweled skin the apprentice held between his hands, her eyes grew with curiosity. This place still managed to surprise her, even after being her home for all these years.

“Not my skin. It almost looks like a snake skin but can you ever be sure in these woods?” She circled around him, and came to stop in front of him so that it no longer felt like she was sneaking up behind him. And sure, maybe sneaking had been her original intention, before she’d known quite who it was, and maybe she’d even used her camouflage to cloak herself till she was close enough to see just who it was wandering these trees… but now that she stood, unhidden under the daylight in front of a person she certainly knew, that was neither here nor there.

“You know, I commend your consistent ability to attract the peculiar and the strange, Mr. Hatter.”

Yes, Olivia wouldn’t be surprised if this was more than just a snake. Those scales looked magical in their own right and she wondered just what kinds of potions could be procured from them.

“And seeing as you are now the owner of -” She gestured towards it. “Whatever that may be, what does a gal need to trade for a few of those scales?”

[aliceslegacy]

She felt like she had fallen for hours. It was similar to the kind of feeling you get when you are just approaching the edge of sleep, then suddenly your body jerks itself awake as you feel as though you’re falling through your own bed, only the feeling was prolonged over an extended period of time. She wasn’t even sure she remembered hitting the ground, all she knew was now her body ached, especially her head; she must have hit it on the way down. 

Everything had been a blur, she wasn’t even thinking when she started chasing that rabbit out of their backyard, let alone follow it down a rabbit hole. Now she was… somewhere, and that damn rabbit was nowhere to be found. She recalled hearing Will call after her, he must’ve followed her out of the house, but did he follow her down the hole too? She looked around, and saw no one.

It took her a few moments to actually process the situation she was finding herself in. She followed a rabbit in a waistcoat down an impossibly deep rabbit hole, and now she was in an unfamiliar place that seemed to be impossibly warm for April. She looked about her surroundings, realizing she was looking at some of the oddest plants she had ever seen, they almost looked like they could’ve belonged in the world of her mother’s stories. Did she… no, she couldn’t have. Wonderland wasn’t real. Her mother’s stories weren’t real. But wherever she was, no matter how weird it looked, it seemed very real, and she had to figure out how to get back home. “Hello?” Thea called out to seemingly no one, waiting for a response, “can anyone hear me?”

[cereswitch-blog]

Not so far away from her house, Olivia had stolen away into a strip of forest for some much-needed practice time. She stayed so often locked her shoppe as she developed new healing potions for the Rebellion - but today she wanted fresh air and a silly afternoon spent, let’s call it, experimenting.

Olivia paced the forest, grimoire in hand, as she held up to the glass bottle to the sunlight. She’d tried this on some saplings earlier, and now she stared down at the pile of leaves she’d collected. She she snacked on some minty berries she’d plucked from a bush. The leaves in front of her were dead, and she wanted - it was her goal - to change them back to alive.

With a few drops of what was in the vial, she’d gotten half a leaf to be green and full again but it quickly decayed back. The ceres felt this change in her own blood when it happened, always in tune with the flora that grew around her. In her frustration, she’d emptied contents onto the tree she stood under and the action had turned all the green leaves into blistering oranges and reds. They were slowly dropping off around her now. Nothing she could do of course; the damage was done, the tree dead. Through her guilt she suffered for it. The ceres felt the unnatural death of this tree come on like a wave of nausea. A voice just managed to slice through the haze.

It sounded lost - orphaned. And Olivia always found herself protective of orphaned things.

She took a few steps towards the voice, trying to shake off that nausea and when she approached the clearing she saw - there she was - a girl who looked utterly disoriented. Where did she come from? Olivia had been practicing here for hours - Even as she asked herself this, Olivia found herself holding her breath. Could this be -- ?

No, the chances of it being just some inhabitant who’d gotten a little turned around was much more likely. And yet, the witch moved closer with curiosity, eyes darting around the space to see if she could catch a glimpse of something, anything (a portal.) 

She was wearing Pleasance Hargreaves face that day and so Olivia appeared, for most of the wide world, as the now deceased blonde witch Pleasance Hargreaves, a woman with a kind enough face and long, braid of hair that fell down her back. 

“Yes!” She said as she noticed that there was a chance the young woman was wounded. “Yes I can hear you. Are you lost? Or perhaps a better and more pressing question is - are you hurt?” 

[cereswitch-blog]

Location: The Palace Kitchen 

@crownedincrimson

She thought she’d have to add hallucinations to a growing list of symptoms - hallucinations from a longed-for childhood. Sort of kind, really; insanity would undoubtedly soften any death that found its way to her door.

A hallucination. What else was she supposed to call Gideon? And this place, The Palace, what was it if not purgatory? A place where all the bits of her past coalesced and waited for judgement.

She’d only wound up here, all the way at the Palace, because she’d set out to complete some recon for this growing… insurgence. (Olivia should have known she was bound to stumble into some ghosts if she wandered these marbled halls long enough.) She’d slipped into the Palace through the kitchen and she’d slip through it to get right back out. She was wearing the face of some guardswoman and Olivia found that if she put on a serious enough face and had a brisk enough of gait, most people let her walk wherever without much questioning. 

She should have noted the quiet of the kitchen as the first warning sign. With all its chefs and all its bustle, when had the kitchen ever been a quiet place under regular circumstances? The second was the fact that there was not a cook in sight when she entered the space. The third - Her eyes found him before they found the exit she was looking for. All the way over there, on the other side of the kitchen, one last obstacle to climb before she made her way out of here. Her throat tightened. Her stare widened. Her lungs stopped. (Perhaps her heart did, too.) Her stomach twisted and her spine wrenched straight. She almost wanted him to a hallucination. Like the ones that would visit her dreams once in a blue moon.

He’d been working, and it was all pastry-air now, smelling like the bakery she’d once walked into over twenty years ago. She caught another smell too, the faintest whiff of rosemary that still lingered on her hands from the potion she’d ground up earlier that day. 

Rosemary, as someone once said said, for remembrance. 

This Gideon was real though, in the end. Real and exactly what she would have imagined. She debated leaving, apologizing, making up some lie for this guardswoman on the fly and just heel, turn. But a sort of determination bolstered in the witch and it stopped her from doing so. Please Olivia, you’re bound to run into him some time, might as well do it on your terms. She turned her gaze back on him at the thought. 

Finally, after a horrible drag of pure silence, one during which Olivia’s face threatened to contort into a fighter’s sneer, her lips pressed into a thin line and she straighten up like a soldier would. 

She called out, across the space, with no understanding how his men spoke to him and - in that moment - not really caring. 

“Good thing I found you. I’ll be honest, this was the last place I expected to find you. I didn’t know you baked.” 

[greyfogrobe-blog]

Evenings in Tulgey Woods were by far the greatest. And though Grey could not see them, she felt them. Every inch of the woods basked in it. The air, which was normally always as cold as the core of a damp, dark cave, had grown somehow even more bitter. The barks of the trees she passed prickled with it. The earth that her bare feets pressed against felt like happening upon cold water on a hot day, and the plants were full of life. 

It was easy to take care of Tulgey’s plants in the evening. After all, many of them bloomed in the evening. And though after living for so many years on her lonesome in the woods, she knew most of the plants by touch or scent alone, the evening simply made their problems so much easier and quicker to solve. 

Also, it helped that most people weren’t foolish enough to wander into Tulgey Woods after dark. Those who did were either one of two things: a complete fool, or looking for death. Either way, Grey was more than happy to help bring them there. 

Grey caught the scent of weeping on the air. She heard its vibrations from the poor plant’s root beneath her toes. She hummed to it, matching its vibrations like a tuning fork, turning back onto the path to it whenever she strayed from its connection and made the vibration wobble. It took her only a few moments to find the sad, wilted plant. She felt its leaves - once velvet now rough and dry as deteriorating leather. 

“Oh, dear,” she whispered as she dipped the tip of her finger beneath the soil. “No, this just won’t do for you, little one.” Carefully, she dug the plant out and carefully eased it and its roots out of the cold earth. Then, she eased it into the bag at her hip that she’d taken from the body of a man she’d once driven to madness. She felt the bag closed before turning to make her way home to care for the plant better. It was only then that she heard the silence of the woods interrupted by a noise that did not belong there.

[cereswitch-blog]

In her youth, she’d embraced her abilities as a ceres with open arms. She’d fall asleep in trees. She’d coax saplings from dry, unforgiving earth. She’d shrink down to the size of a daisy and leap from petal to petal. Her favorite was when she would do so only to spring off off the leaf of some wildflower and return to her full size mid leap, using her momentum to tumble through the foliage, snickering away when Gideon couldn’t find her because she’d managed to camouflage herself perfectly with flora around her. In those moments Olivia felt part of the very earth itself.

Things hadn’t been quite the same in twenty years, had they? No more shrinking, no more leaping from petal to petal, no more playful games of hide and seek. No. Instead, on rare occasions, when her heart grew too heavy, or when she needed to disappear, she’d loose herself to strolls amongst plants. 

She still fell asleep in trees though.

Like today.

Sleep was harder and harder to come by these days and usually she brewed herself something dark and rich to help with the matter. More often than not though, the witch would just wait till exhaustion knocked her out.

On that day, Olivia tumbled out of the tree sleep had caught her unawares in. Her hands just missed the lowest branch and her outstretched fingers felt a familiar dormant magic push through them as vines whipped out to catch her. They tangled around her, like a web, and snared her as securely as any spiders-web would. She’d let out a startled yelp - completely involuntary - and she could feel the forest rustle with the disturbance around her, like a stone dropped into a lake.

But then she, and her plants, settled. And the ceres let the vines gently guide her to the forest floor till she was standing upright. With a wave her hand, they slithered back to their branches like snakes. 

It was around then, just as she leaned down to pat down the earth and bless it with whatever magical residue was left in her veins, that she became acutely aware of another person. There - just beyond those pillars of trees. She stepped back, let her magic coat her in a shimmer so that she melded with the dark greens of the evening. She jumped from the shadow of tree to the shadow of tree till she was just a few trunks away from the woman - before crawling up one of the branches and swinging herself over to sit on a sturdy branch. There she uncloaked herself. The ceres shifted so that a dagger of moonlight fell across her and revealed her position.

“Haven’t you heard? It’s dangerous to be out in these woods at these hours.”

None of this was said unkindly. If anything, it was said with genuine curiosity. Pretty simple subtext: And just, what are you doing out here?

(As if she just hadn’t fallen out of a tree seconds earlier)

[beyondalicerp]

Name: Olivia Darren / Pleasance Hargreaves Age: 41 Date of Birth: December 25 Gender: Cis Female Sexuality: Demisexual Residence: Fevered Forest Occupation: Shop Owner Species: Ceres Affiliation: Rebellion Face Claim: Daniella Alonso           Suggested: Zoe Saldana, Odette Annable, Daniella Alonso  Played by: Rey

Olivia Darren was once prepared to become the Queen of Wonderland, but circumstances changed so quickly once Gideon began to rise to power. Olivia knew they had very different paths to follow and they left the night before his coronation. Once he had begun to outlaw activity by magical creatures, Olivia went into hiding. They sought out the Witch, a woman known to run a shop of natural potions, and asked her for help to disguise them, as all of Wonderland knew their face. Normally, the Witch held higher prices for her practice, but this time was different. The Witch offered to help Olivia if they would stay with her and learn the trade. Olivia didn’t understand why at first, but the Witch was dying, and their title was one passed on through many generations; yet this Witch did not have a child to inherit it. Olivia Darren no more, they now go by a different name, with a different face, and a powerful title to accompany their new fate.

The Crimson King: Olivia loved Gideon since they were teenagers. They both had come from nothing and yearned for a way to make something of themselves. Olivia thought they knew who the Gideon was, but, as he fought back the Panic, Olivia saw a cruelty in him they had never expected. The farther Gideon went down the road to power, the farther Olivia felt from him until they finally got the courage to leave him. They haven’t spoken to the Crimson King since, but Olivia knows in order to restore balance to Wonderland they must put their old feelings aside.

The Welcomer: Although the Witch has kept their secret well, even from old friends like the Welcomer, these two have been working together here and there to further the agenda of the rebellion. Though it is only a small group of rebels, both know in their hearts something must be done. While the Welcomer offers sanctuary, the Witch offers service through what recovery or protective potions the Welcomer requests for their fugitives. Though only the Witch knows of their past friendship, even they notice a lack of trust between the two present versions of themselves. They cooperate, but both are working to bury their own secrets, and that very lack of trust could be the death of both of them.

The Dauntless Dame: The type of magic the Witch does is not the kind outlawed by the Crimson King. The Witch does not use their own inherited magic, but has mastered the magic around them in the herbs and minerals Wonderland provides. Many knows small amounts of the skill, but the line of Witches who have run this shop know vast amounts more and use it to their advantage however they see fit. Although the Witch’s participation in the rebellion has been done very cautiously, so as to not attract attention, they have noticed a certain Dame often lurking on their land and eyeing them suspiciously when they pass. The Witch does not believe they have much to worry about, as they would be dead already if anyone knew the crimes committed, but something about this Dame makes them nervous in ways they have not been in years.

The Witch is currently TAKEN.

Keep reading

[cereswitch-blog]

Cringe

She said I'm looking like a bad man Smooth criminal She said my spirit doesn't move like it did before She said that I don't look like me no more no more I said I'm just tired She said you're just tired

I said I saw you in the water I said I saw you in the water

Sweating all your sins out Putting all your thoughts back together Oh we just don't blend out All of my attempts seem to weather

Oh I make you cringe now Don't I make you cringe?

[thewinedarksea]

witches: forest

“i am both at the same time.”

[cereswitch-blog]

6, saturn, chariot xx

6. If they were to be represented by a seven deadly sin, which would it be?

“Now there’s a question. It sounds like you’re trying to suss out my weaknesses.” The real answer, she knows, is wrath. Olivia’s wrath is not fiery or explosive, rather, it takes root, buries itself and digs deep. It lays beneath the surface and doesn’t forget.

She smiles.

“Oh, I don’t know? Gluttony? I have a terrible sweet-tooth.”

Not entirely false. She does have a sweet tooth.

saturn: what’s your aesthetic?

“My aesthetic? Do I just list things that appeal to me? Alright. Let’s see. I like puzzles. The feel of the earth after it rains. Being under a night sky. There’s a certain smell to correctly brewed potions and who doesn’t love the precision that comes with such... “ She wants to say magic but doesn’t. “…things. How’s that list for starters?:

the chariot: thoughts on astrology?

“Absolute bullshit. And if anyone tries to tell you they’re destined for certain things because the stars say so - it sounds like they’re just looking for an excuse to justify being an asshole.”

[latinecelebs]

[cereswitch-blog]

Mind on Fire

Have you seen the girl with the mind on fire? She set out to tell the world how they suppress our desires Said she wouldn't back down till the rules were amended And she didn't give a fuck who she offended

Have you seen her now? Have you seen her now? I've been spending all day trying to track her down Have you seen her now? Have you seen her now? I wonder if she ever made it past this town

Have you seen the girl with the heart as big as the sea She looks just like you and just like me She set out to find humanity And the keys to set her lovers free