I have gone out, a possessed witch, haunting the black air, braver at night; dreaming evil, I have done my hitch over the plain houses, light by light: lonely thing, twelve-fingered, out of mind. A woman like that is not a woman, quite. I have been her kind. I have found the warm caves in the woods, filled them with skillets, carvings, shelves, closets, silks, innumerable goods; fixed the suppers for the worms and the elves: whining, rearranging the disaligned. A woman like that is misunderstood. I have been her kind. I have ridden in your cart, driver, waved my nude arms at villages going by, learning the last bright routes, survivor where your flames still bite my thigh and my ribs crack where your wheels wind. A woman like that is not ashamed to die. I have been her kind. — josepine everhart. witch. —
Nathaniel looked less than impressed, though in the dim light it was a little more difficult to appreciate just how unimpressed he was. For mortals at least. His ilk had no trouble seeing in the dark.
Keys still in one hand, head cocked like he was listening for something in the distance, he drawled, “I’m not the one breaking into Mrs. Haley’s prized cabbage patch.”
She was very proud of all the blue ribbons they’d won her.
The poor old widower thought it was raccoons getting at her crops. She’d spent the last twenty minutes explaining that and how difficult bringing in her new fence had been. Normally, Nate wouldn’t have minded. She was a charming thing, even if it took her a ridiculous amount of time to sign her contracts, and she knew far more about tomatoes than he did, but curfew was cutting in real close, and he didn’t particularly feel like breaking out of a jail cell. Four years felt a little premature for a police record.
He had just enough time to drive home. He could take the paperwork into the office tomorrow. “What’re you doing, Jo?”
“fuck the cabbage.”
her first response probably wasn't polite to mrs. haley,
or her cabbage. but at this time of night, someone else’s garden
was the least of her concerns. she knew what happened in this
town, she knew the police weren’t the only things to worry about
this late at night.
“i’ll give you one good guess.” she said, her anger at the
curfew coming out in the sarcasm in her voice. “i’m trying to get home.
if you don’t have a car you gotta do this wonderful thing called walking.
it doesn’t help when people start fencing off my goddamn path.” she
complained, kicking the chain links. the fence didn’t seem bothered.
Mikado happened to decide to walk that night from the culinary courses. Cookie batter from the ceiling will take hours to clean. And Mikado was too dumb to call a lyft.
He had a note from his instructor explaining the situation. Mikado also wanted to believe that the police had bigger fish to fry than an overzealous chef.
Still, he shouldn’t take pause when he heard the sound. Mick slowly approached the fence, taking out the ladle in his side pocket.
He squealed in response before realizing that the target was cursing at him.
“Sorry! I thought you were like Bigfoot!” Mickey said holding up the ladle. He took a few seconds before blinking. “Aren’t you that waitress from the diner?”
“bigfoot?” she asked. had she not been so scared a
second ago, she might have laughed. instead her brows
furrowed together. “i brushed my hair like, two days ago.
i don’t think i’ve hit bigfoot status yet.” it wasn’t like her
small frame screamed large animal either, though, the dark
does weird things to your senses.
“one of several. i’m not the only one employed there,
even if it feels like that sometimes.” she mused. she glanced
around, not liking the eerie silence of the neighborhood.
“i don’t know where you’re going, but i’d rather not
get arrested right now, so.”
“Hm five more minutes which will turn into ten more minutes and so on” he teased with a hint of a smile on his face. Crossing his arms he pretended to contemplate over it even when he was so ready to say ‘fine’ already.
“What do I get in return of letting you have these precious five minutes?” he didn’t actually want anything, he just wanted to see her reaction to that. Then he stepped up to take a curious look at what she was scribbling about “You know what…I might just have something extra special that is to be put on display tonight. Tomorrow the public gets to sees it but I’m allowed full access to it.” he wiggled his brows “an antique pendant said to have sueprnatural powers. You want to write your report on that?”
“you get my love and adoration.” jo said, taking his
distraction of speaking to her advantage. scrambling down
a couple more words. “and maybe i’ll throw in a coffee or
something after this.”
her interest was peaked. she was never a big history
buff, but this local histories writing course she was taking
this semester didn’t seem to give her a choice, luckily alistair
was usually more than willing to help.
“oh hell yeah. that’s way better than a goddamn tea pot.”
Woodlynn was house sitting for a friend that weekend and just before they left had put up a fence complaining of people walking through their yard wich they didn’t like. She was sitting on the couch when the camera system went off letting her know there was someone there checking it she laughed a little and walked outside sneaking up on the girl “When people put fences up that usually means they want you to stay out of their yards not scale them”She said crossing her arms
“fences are meant to be scaled. pretty sure it says that
in the bible somewhere.” she countered, rubbing her hands on
the dirty apron. little pinpricks of blood dotted the white material,
and she groaned.
“damn fence bites back to, what the hell, i gotta buy
bleach now?”
it seemed business was steadily booming at times isabella wished they would cease - fire . surely she imagined herself relaxing on the couch , watching some terrible horror movie made in the eighties , instead of being back at a place she could never get away from . it was bitter - sweet working at the diner . some days , she was glad it was the one thing that reminded her of her mother , and on other’s , she wished she had never taken the job in the first place . but , that’s how the cookie crumbles , right ?
optimism wanted to falter , but alas , izzie made sure it held its’ ground . placing three cups on the counter , she began to refill them . one coke . one tea . and one punch with just enough ice . mrs. burke had always been a picky one . a light laugh seemed to escape her once jo spoke , head nodding in pure regret . “ aren’t we always ? ‘kinda wish i didn’t pick up the phone , but i couldn’t leave ‘ya hangin’ . ”
a pounded headache, so far, was beating the advil she’d recently
taken. the dull throb still echoed through her head as she did her rounds
around the counter. she filled up mr. robert’s coffee cup and briefly spoke
to him about his son. she got another slice of pie for ms. patty and her
small daughter to share. she wiped down the counter where someone
had just left, pocketing the .35 cent tip.
thanks, asshole.
“i appreciate it, more than you know.” jo answered, halfway joking.
she leaned against the back counter. “hows it been? i mean, besides when
you’ve been here.” though, if she worked like jo did, she was probably
always here.
it was getting late... too late. jo never took the curfew seriously. of course, she’d never been caught outside during it before. but, with the recent news of more and more people getting caught and arrested, she started hurrying home a bit more, not wanting to risk it.
she was late getting off work. she dropped the register drawers when locking up at the diner, and stayed late to recount everything and put it in the system. it took a while, longer than she thought, and she didn’t even leave the diner until 5 minutes before curfew.
her walk home consisted of cutting through several yards and property lines to make it there as quickly as possible. it had never been an issue beforehand, she was small and able to run fast when she needed to, and usually the cover of darkness was enough to save her ass (also, she was working on a few memory altering spells, she’d never tried them out on people before, but a girls gotta do what a girls gotta do).
“oh what the fuck.”
she said, spying her newest enemy on the scrambling trip home. someone had put up a 10-foot chainlink fence around this little corner of their property, cutting her path off. with a huff, she tightened her bag on her shoulders and groaned. sticking one chuck taylor into the holes of the fence and then another, she took her time scaling it and dropping to the other side. a rustle of leaves next to her and an emerging figure nearly scared her dead.
“man what the fuck, you scared the shit outta me.”
Alistair was on his day job, marching down the squeaky clean halls and corridors of the Museum as people, mostly humans, walked in and out. a buzz had filled the area, it was nearing closing time and Alistair was glad. He was done with hearing echoes of squealing children.
People were clearing out, except for some and Alistair inhaled deeply before stalking towards them. In his utmost, professional and pleasant tone apologized “It’s closing time, I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you to leave but please do visit us again soon”
jo’s paper was due at midnight, and of course, she
had waited until the last minute. she didn’t even get off of
work today until 3, and raced over to the museum to find a
‘historical artifact’ to write on. she pretty much picked the
first thing she saw and began scribbling down notes.
she h e a r d alistair before she saw him, the heavy
footprints could have only belonged to him.
“come on al, just give me like, five more minutes,
please?”
perfectly - sculpted curls held themselves together in a loose ponytail , cascading down the back of her light - blue waitress uniform effortlessly . the white apron tied around proved to have no wrinkles whatsoever despite the busy day it endured , thankfully . today was supposed to be her day off for the week , but of course , another girl’s call - in resulted in isabella dragging herself back to the place she was at more than her own home . surely , she was frustrated by it , but she wouldn’t dare let her customers pay for another’s short - comings . it had toned down , finally , the rush inching closer to it’s demise . and that’s when she was called to check in on someone else’s table ( surely izzie was used to picking up the slack by now ) , hurrying over to the customer before taking out her notepad . usually she was much more engaged with the patrons . “ how are you , sweets ? think you’re ready to order , or should i give you a couple more minutes ? ” a voice dipped in honey and served with sincerity , kindness was that of a genuine nature and not a tip - hungry one . for the most part .
josephine was tired. and tired was an understatement.
it was her fourth double this week, just at the diner alone. she
was still having to make appointments and calls for ms. zhou,
and she hadn’t had a moment to even step off the floor.
needless to say, she was not being a great coworker today,
she hoped that izzie understood. loose brown curls had fallen from
her scrunchie long ago, and hung in front of her face like dog ears.
she blew them out of her way, moving to refill a customer’s coffee
at the counter. she watched izzie hustle around the diner, feeling
bad she’d taken the counter shift.
when the girl returned, she offered her a small smile.
⋰ ◇ ⋱ ◇ ( nineteen / cisfemale / she/her ) was that ( maia mitchell ) i saw walking into ( west bank bookstore )? i better look again, because that was just ( josephine everhart ). i wonder how long they’ve been in town. i’ve heard ( two months ), but i don’t know if that’s right. ( she ) has been pretty ( proactive ) but ( high-strung ) lately. i wonder if it has to do with the fact that they’re a ( witch ). ( sav, 18, she/her, est )
hello hello! my name is sav and this is jo!! i will be doing a volunteer shift at a pet rescue i work at when plotting goes live, so, unfortunately, i won't be online! but, my discord is sav #4959 and i’d love love love to get some plotting done with you guys there! anyways, under the cut is some information about jo! if you like this post, when i get back online i’ll shoot you a message!
biography:
jo grew up actually not too far outside of poplar grove! she grew up in the suburbs of new haven, ct. she lived with her father in a small two-story house that had been in their family for years.
she never knew her mother, but got her abilities as a witch through her.
she and her father spent nine pleasant years together in the home before things took a turn for the worst
her father is an experimenting pharmacist, though, (tw: drug abuse) his own health declining due to years of prescribing himself unnecessary medications to help him get through his day
this medication didn’t just have an effect on his health, it also affected his mental and cognitive abilities.
(tw: abuse and drug abuse) when jo first started demonstrating symptoms of magic as a young child, her father ignored it. he was convinced it was some kind of hallucination from the drugs, or that he was making up the whole thing. however, when the drugs did start giving him hallucinations, combined with young jo showing more and more abilities with her magic, he became enraged. he was never a man of anger until the drugs made him one. every time he saw jo, he was convincing himself she was an abomination, something to be feared. the little spurts of magic that she couldn’t control were magnified times ten in his mind. he tried to kick her from the house several times, but the almost ten-year-old josephine didn’t understand, she kept coming back. he was convinced that she was out to get him, so every time he saw her, he beat her.
(tw: abuse and drug abuse) after months of this routine, josephine found the connection. she began hiding her father’s pill bottles whenever he was at work, flushing them down the toilet or stockpiling them in her room. he never stopped completely, still getting them from work, but jo managed to get him out of the manic state. calmed, now, he recognized josephine as his daughter, but was still aware and disgusted by her powers. he no longer tried to kick her form the house, but he neglected her, and on bad nights, would still abuse her and send her out of his sight.
this treatment lasted until she moved to poplar grove, two months ago. however, after years of growing up in it, she found her ways around it. in middle and high school she’d stay at the school as long as she could until the administrators left, usually then spending time at the public library or a kind coffee shop until late at night. she’d sneak into the house, and only try for food when she heard her father’s door click shut, and the tv turned on.
she fended for herself from a young age, and only knew about her heritage through scourging the internet. she didn’t know why her fingertips would spark when she was angry, or why she sometimes could push her father off of her with what felt like the wind. when she finally came to the answer, she was amazed.
so, all of her free time was dedicated to learning and honing in on her craft. through her searching, she found poplar grove. she graduated high school, somehow, and immediately spent the year after working to save up enough money to get an apartment.
as soon as she was able to, she moved out of her dad’s house. that’s not to say that she didn’t go back, she still goes back to see him every other week or so, to deplete his medication supply and make sure the bills were being paid, etc.
personality:
a troublemaker to the core. her mouth constantly would land her in detention or on the wrong side of a fight, and she never seemed to learn her lesson
she was terrified of being outed as different or as a witch in school, so whenever she’d get in a fight, she’d have to just let it happen. it didn’t mean, however, when she could get away with it, she didn’t. whenever someone threatened her in an area with no witnesses, she wasn’t afraid to let a bit of her magic show.
she’s outspoken and loud, but extremely hard working.
practically speaks in only sarcasm
is a big book nerd. reading was her way of escaping, and it carried with her through life. now her focus is more on spellbooks and the history of witches, but she’s an aspiring author.
she’s even working under an author to see the process!
she works at sunnyside diner and is an assistant to an author. she is also starting online schooling to get her writing degree, while also trying to learn more about her abilities as a witch
overall shes just a mess. she has a good heart and a good head, but often gets sidetracked by distractions and bad influences (she dabbles in dark magic)
will fight you, but has the muscle mass of a baby carrot so probably shouldn’t
if you like this, ill shoot you a message when i get back tonight!
izzy806
discoholicmusic
blakekathryn
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