Before he could react, she pressed further into him, as if passing through flesh and bone at once, and his mind plunged into a bottomless pit. Yet his grip on the professor held — tightening, if anything — as he pulled her closer to him.
lady luck seemed to smile upon okju. a once taut, frantic state softened within the curve of a familiar face and the warmth of another body steadying her own. lips curled into a small, sheepish grin with cheeks entirely flushed, staining porcelain a tender pink even under dim amber. just now she was like a frightened child, then there was brief relief before realization gave way to embarrassment. from almost toppling him over. from being held so tightly. from both. what were the odds of bumping into the very person specializing in spirits this late in the evening? and what was he to say about a teacher playing with items of the occult that should not be toyed with? she knew little of him past corridor greetings out of courtesy and knew even less about the thing she’d just been dabbling with. after all spiritcraft was his in ways that green magic was hers.
“hoshimori.” her voice was a little enthusiastic than intended, albeit fragile under simmering unease. “i did not expect to see you at this hour of night, but i’m actually glad at such coincidence since i was hoping you could help me . . .” words gradually trailed off as the student’s expression shifted. focus no longer rested on her face but elsewhere, somewhere far behind, just over her shoulder. fear did not keep her in place but his grip, preventing her from turning to what he was seeing.
a familiar dread crept upwards her spine, raising tiny bumps from her flesh. it would have been so easy to mistake it for a cold draft if not for the eerie circumstances surrounding that night. the scent reached her next. freshly watered soil. wet roots. it smelled of home, of her garden. where all dead things can grow into something beautiful again. but beneath the smell was a sickening sweetness. decay that had been left too long in stagnant heat. overwhelming in its assault of her senses but sight, she could no longer ignore the weight of its presence pressing onto the both of them. the sensation reminded her of vines crowding a trellis, twisting over one another in suffocating tangles while searching desperately for somewhere to go.
“suisho?” the question was gentle, careful not to startle. pain began faintly where his fingers started digging into flesh through layers of fabric. when she urged herself backward, movement proved tough with how closely he held her now. another yank and the balance slipped violently from under her as his weight bore forward all at once. a shoulder struck hardwood first, but before she could react, his body collapsed against her own. both hands reached for the sides of his face to shake his attention from the beyond and almost did she let go just as quickly.
“you’re really cold, suisho.” but nowhere within the figure in front of her could she find the student anymore.
ornate letters and numbers decorated the wooden board in front of her. in the wee hours of the night, okju's room was completely swallowed up by darkness save for the candlelight burning faintly beside the ouija board. from this angle it almost looked as though the symbols carved on its surface were twisting into unrecognizable shapes whenever the light hit a certain way. outside her window an owl hoots and she almost jumps from the floor. she wasn’t normally twitchy, nor was she this reckless. in retrospect, she could not recall when she started thinking about her mother. she had been dead for thirty years. on the very same day okju had died been born. then her thoughts fluttered closer to home, to yeju. doting grandmother. one whose face turned somber whenever asked about the life her daughter had lived. it had been made clear to her granddaughter then that three decades were not enough for the old witch to assuage the remorse she’d harbored since.
knelt on the carpet, a small, heart—shaped piece was clutched between dainty fingers, hovering just over the board. she would not dare attempt to perform such ritual when she lived with yeju. but now that she was all by herself? there had never been a more perfect time, if not more idiotic considering she was as experienced with spirits as she is with normal human relationships — which goes without saying is next to none. but she was a witch. and grandmother was a great, green witch. powerful magic flowed through her veins, or so she’d been told. how hard could it be?
regret came instantaneously. once both hands were on the planchette, nothing happened at first. “eomma?” a light breeze pricked at her skin despite the closed window to her room and she watched as the tiny, wooden piece began moving beneath her fingertips. yes, the word peeked through the hole of the planchette. panic settled in her gut. she did not think it would respond so quickly. and yet if she had been thinking at all she would not be doing this at a whim. but it was not yet done. the piece of wood under her digits wavered again and slid swiftly across the board until it formed a question.
w h y d i d y o u l e a v e m e h e r e a l o n e ?
“i didn’t.” the words rushed out of her and just as soon the pointer jerked and circled the same three—letter word repeatedly.
yes.
yes.
yes.
yes, you did. — was the message mother was trying to say. more and more aggressively it kept circling the word until okju finally let go of the planchette with a loud “stop!”. she was mid—exhale when an icy grip sharply yanked her from the floor only to realize nothing was behind her but her window. glancing down, a harsh red handprint appeared around her arm. deciding she had enough of this silly seance, the witch made quick work to pack up the ouija board, blew out her candle, and padded towards the library where she originally found it.
this time, however, she bumped into something more solid.
greetings, boils and ghouls! short disclaimer about me: i’m fairly new to the tumblr rp space so i do apologize in advance if i seem a little lost or slow to pick up on things regarding the platform. that said, i’m quite excited to be here albeit a bit intimidated and without further ado, let me introduce your new herbology professor and resident green witch, choi okju! (•ᴗ•,, )
press the ♡ to plot and i’ll be reaching out shortly. her biography is a work in progress but under the cut is a summarized version of her background for your perusal. tw: deaths.
general info. ⠀choi okju. thirty years young. she/her. born in jeju island on the 30th of august, 1995. orphaned and was raised by her grandmother — another green witch, choi yeju. currently working as a herbology professor at a boarding school for witches.
inspirations.⠀ greek mythology’s circe & persephone. dc’s poison ivy. strange horticulture. mcu’s rio vidal ╱ lady death.
abilities. ⠀herbalism. chlorokinesis. tasseography. poisoncrafting and immunity to all kinds of toxin.
personality.⠀ one can’t simply resist okju’s odd charm once you get past the initial chill most get from first glance. spending most of her time with the foliage as her companions of choice and the seemingly disembodied voices she hears from its stems and roots, the green witch’s social graces can often be seen as somewhat . . . eccentric. her humor too dry, temperament too quick to change, remarks too odd, and her bunny—like smile just a little too wide, too uncanny. most would simply write her off as someone with a few screws loose, but such comments rarely bothered her. there was often a delight, a tiny gleam in her empty, obsidian gaze whenever people showed discomfort towards her presence.
familiar. ⠀currently familiarless but not actively seeking. she is currently in the belief that she does not need one at the moment ( read : you're welcome to ruin her plans ) and secretly she worries about being bonded to a familiar that might eat her plants.
backstory.
many a mystery surrounded the events of choi okju’s birth, all of which remained unanswered to this day. her grandmother, choi yeju, used to be the most renowned green witch during her time from the 50’s to the early 70’s. though due to her unorthodox practices of green magic, she was effectively shunned by her own coven out of fear for her increasing affliction to darker pursuits. alone and bitter with resentment, she ends up planting new roots in a small village in jeju—do where she eventually gives birth to okju’s mother — eunju.
much to yeju’s dismay, the powerful magic that ran through their bloodline for generations seemed to have skipped her only daughter, her modest abilities being limited to basic potioncrafting and herbal healing. burdened by her mother’s constant disappointment, eunju would soon elope with a travelling man from the mainland, only to return a year later with her belly fully grown and her heart completely broken.
the infant is pronounced dead upon birth, along with the mother who does not survive the severe blood loss from her labor. both mother and daughter are buried together in a makeshift grave surrounded by the most beautiful flora the surviving matriarch can conjure. it is the next morning when the grieving grandmother would hear an infant’s cries coming from the same soil where both bodies had been laid to rest. after digging through the earth, a very much alive and healthy baby girl lays squirming against the carcass of her mother. yeju sees this as an omen. whether good or bad, she does not care. for one cannot question when death smiles upon you and brings back a life that had already been taken. she would soon name the baby — okju.
choi okju becomes the woman she is today through the help of her beloved halmeoni. abilities manifested early on in her life and grandmother is endlessly smug at the prodigy her granddaughter would turn into. more than just another mere green witch, okju thinks herself as a conduit of the earth itself. her approach to magic tiptoed between healing and harming, life and death, growth and decay, beauty and the rot, the endless cycle of nature.
despite the power she harbored, okju was still stuck in her small—town life as a herbalist. she was still doing no more than homemade cures and salves to treat the sickly locals on the island. while she is far from ungrateful of the life she had been given, yeju would soon notice her granddaughter’s growing dissatisfaction. not wanting to lose okju like she did her own daughter, yeju would eventually make the heartsplitting decision to tell her sproutling of the vast, magical world outside their village.
admission to the school.
magic, as it always has, had taken the path of least resistance when the school announced its search for a new herbology professor and choi okju happened to be already at the foot of the gates — a nervously written application letter clutched within ink—stained fingers. unbeknownst to all but those that hired her, strings were pulled by choi yeju to get her granddaughter a teaching spot.
a fresh face to the academe, okju is still finding her footing after being homeschooled all her life and not having met any other witches apart from her grandmother. she has only started teaching at the boarding school this current semester.
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