We've Cheated Fate Again

Member of The Pelago Islands, 250,000G, level 8 Necromancer

[magicfightclub]

Somehow, somewhere, this package finds a way to you. Inside contains a few cans of spray paint and a couple of key chains of teddy bears. The letter in the package says it’s from Aurelia. The note reads: [ Dear Witch, ( Or do you want me to call you princess?) If you are going to vandalize something, please make use of the proper tools. What you had before was all too easy to clean and wipe off, so this spray paint will bode you better. Also–I saw these teddy bear key-chains by the checkout- and figured why not to throw them in for you. They would match well with your bag, I think. Anyways may this season find you well and may the goddess bless you. Or you find your own means of paving your destiny. Regardless, may you be well. Don’t tell anyone I spray painted the goddess’ face, or else.🔫

 -Aurelia. ]

__________________________________________________________ When Nessarose first found the package at her doorstep, mistrust radiated off from her. Few that knew of her homestead cared for her, and few that cared knew where to find her. Her first thought was that it was some sort of trap, set on the naive thought she cared for mortal holidays. She figured, however, it was unlikely to do her much harm and so she levitated it, inside and to a countertop, before carefully opening it.

To say the contents, an unknown gold bottle and a set of... admittedly precious bears, hanging off from clips, caught her off guard is an understatement. With a frown, she hesitantly lifted the letter from the package, hands loose and fingers barely touching the paper in places as though she thought it might bite her. While her suspicion dissipated, its only replaced with deep seeded confusion.

Though she had admittedly forgotten the nun’s name, the contents of the letter are enough to make it stick who it’s from.

... Why in the name of all that is sacred would a servant of the Goddess send her a gift? Foolhardiness, perhaps? In exchange for a boon? T’was likely, but this note make no mention of receiving something in return. The witch must admit that the gift... did not go unappreciated. The spray paint was safely tucked away into her old worn bag and the clips, the both of them, carefully and with some fumbling difficulty,  found themselves hanging from the string that attached it to her waistband....

She supposed, then, that she might thank her. And better yet, she had exactly the thing to give in return.

[magicfightclub]

Trouble in the Making|| Aurelia and Nessarose

[magicfightclub]

gun-nun:

Suffice to say, Aurelia was starting to get used to the idea of strangers breaking into the church. Rarely do they ever lock the doors to the place, except for at night–( And even then, thieves sometimes finds themselves running amok.) so this sister wasn’t surprised to see this mysterious woman before her.

“…………” The woman blinked as she observed her surroundings, a short, blonde woman with long bouncy curls was drawing crude pictures on the walls. Honestly, Aurelia would had found this humorous herself– but something seemed off in the way how this intruder was approaching it. It lacked the proper spirit.  She scoffs, as Aurelia walks over to the strange woman, and dares to reach for the ink in the bag.

“I swear…..if you’re going to do it, do it right.” …..Just where was these words coming from? Aurelia fearlessly touches the noir ink inside the pouch, (You do realize that’s a witch over there, do you. )and leans over to the Harvest Goddess’ image and places a mustache over her face– along with some glasses and makes the lady have a goat-tee. The sister smugly grins at her creation, oddly reminded of a pastor she used to be coached under by. At least they would find this rather marvelous. It’s even in his image, HA. Then Aurelia turns to face the intruder, (more like accomplice by this point.) with an oddly pleasant smile.  “Now there. That’s how you do it.”

The nature of this interactions earns a spike in interest and curiosity towards the mortal, though this was very seldom a good thing, and despite it  Nessarose still bristles at being corrected. Who is a nun, chosen pet of the goddesses, to tell her what to or how to do something? She scoffs lightly as the mortal digs her fingers into her paint, carefully closing it whilst she’s painting away to keep her from touching her things.

Questionable behaviour, coming from someone who’d stolen the pot in the first place.

She doesn’t meet the woman’s eyes as she turns to face her, nor does she return her smile: her features are cool and blank but for the irritation that seems to radiate off of her. She instead turns to face the portrait, slitted cat-like eyes darting over it’s new features.

“Hmm, I see.” She says simply, voice dull and unimpressed. “That’s well and good, but even with your--” An unreadable glance towards the nun. “Far Superior skills, paint alone isn’t enough to... liven up such a heap.”

She smiles, though it’s paired with a mischievous, cold glint that makes the expression seem almost predatory as she steps away from the painting and the girl, steps slow and lazy as she walks through the empty room under the assumption the girl followed. When she next speaks, the smile is gone completely and she’s come to a stop before a heavy statuette of the goddess, roughly the size of her forearm.

“This.... thing, for starters. Much better tossed down a well than cluttering the church.” As she says this, she closes her eyes and focuses her energy on the thing, causing it to drift up into the air and hover at eye level. “It’s rubble would be less of an eyesore, wouldn’t you agree?”

There’s a moment of heavy silence, then Nessarose opens her eyes. She doesn’t move to face her or turn her head, but her eyes smoothly glide in her direction, her lips spreading into an amused grin.

“Well? What say you, little mortal?”

[magicfightclub]

Trouble in the Making|| Aurelia and Nessarose

It wasn’t often that the witch deigned to enter the church these days: she found the worship of deities childish and naive (despite her own rather hypocritical.... admiration, if you will, of the elder dragons)--after all, praying to her fellow immortals was akin to writing a strongly worded letter to a monsoon and hoping it’d favor you, except for a monsoon wasn’t half so egotistical to preen and subsist on mortal worship in a way almost parasitical all whilst being hailed as loving, maternal figures.

And then they frowned on HER trickery, as though it was half so bad. Completely unfair, really.

Nonetheless, it was with a scowl and furrowed brow that she entered, cape pulled around herself. She really did have the best intentions, there was someone working here she wished to visit... but such pessimistic thoughts clouded her judgement and her palms ached with anticipation and temptation at trouble that could be made. She cast a quick cursory glance around herself and snuck her hands into the pouch at her waist, pulling out a small canister of thick, pasty black paint that she’d... liberated... from her place of work. If only Lumina had any idea.

Much as she loved the girl, what she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her.

She’d dirtied her hands, absolutely covered them in in the thick mixture, and began making her own additions to the artwork of the goddess, amateurish drawings of all kinds. And that’s about when she heard footsteps behind her, pausing in the middle of smearing a long line of ink down the goddess’ face to cast an annoyed glare over her shoulder.

“... Enough with your gawking, Mortal--if you’ve something to say, say it.” A pause, Nessarose tilting her head in thought as she looked back to her lovely artwork. “Or if you’ve a complaint, go pray at someone.”

[7umi-blog]

bttp: fairytale friends || nessa&lumina

@magicfightclub

Auntie Romana had told Lumina not to wander too far but she was a big girl and she was bored of playing piano all day… She had done pretty well. Better than usual, or at least not that bad. There was a scale somewhere in her head of how she had done and if she got corrected more than twice the scale tipped from okay to absolutely terrible. Only one mistake today and that was something to be happy about but the look on Romana’s face made Lumina start to sniffle a bit so she figured she had to escape.

Running down the hill of the Villa and into the forest, she stumbled without rhyme or reason further and further into the dark green trees and meadows filled with fragrant flowers. Finding no one near her, no one anywhere at all near her, she lied down in the middle of a field of forget-me-nots and slowly drifted off to sleep.

Many hours later and the tiny four year old awoke to a deepening darkness and a crisp chill in the air. Having dashed through the forest in a summer dress, she shivered and rubbed at her legs and arms to warm herself up. No one was near her no one at all and that thought that had comforted her earlier now made her frightened and tearful.

The sniffles came back to her as she realized that she’d have to walk back home in the dark all alone when she could barely manage being in the dark in the comfort of her bed. Crying loudly, she regretted not listening to Auntie Romana’s words and hoped with all her heart that her guardian angel would come and help her now.

[magicfightclub]

It wasn’t often that Nessarose encountered someone in her neck of the woods anymore: she thought that, perhaps, most mortals had learned to avoid the scary, reclusive witch, or that perhaps they had largely forgotten her and lost interest in the area she’d claimed as her home. Yet mortals always managed to surprise her.

The witch had been out foraging, searching for her next meal and finding, as always, mostly mushrooms and greenery, and was headed back to her shed when she heard something that made her stop in her tracks--brows furrowed and tired eyes curious, yet cautious, she turned slightly as she listened to the faint, not too far off sound of crying. At first, Nessarose simply thought her mind was playing tricks on her: she was exhausted, underfed, perhaps lonely, surely this was just another echo of the past, her mind conjuring up the voices of the long since dead as it often did when she laid awake at night.

Yet as she continued on, the sound grew closer and became clearer: a loud, wavering voice crying. No, it would appear this was real. There was someone in the woods with her, and off she went towards it. When she reached the small clearing and peered in, she was yet further confounded when her eyes fell upon a small girl, whimpering and crying alone. There was a part of her that said not to interfere, but she couldn’t fathom why such a tiny girl was alone in the woods-and while later in the future she might not admit it, she was flooded with concern, and so as she stepped out into the clearing, she lowered her hood and left her wild curls bouncing as she approached. She stopped a safe distance away, both out of caution and not to alarm the child.

“Hush now, little one,” She tries to speak softly, to sweeten her naturally low and apathetic tone, but avoids moving lest she scare the child an further. “You’re safe, I promise--but you must be quiet.” There were monsters, far worse than she, in these woods, and Nessarose supposed she should be thankful it was her who found the child.

“Are you lost?”

[magicfightclub]

For a moment, I really felt that things were different But they’re not No matter where I go, I’m trapped