Echoes of Drums

Puck. Indie OC. RP and Ask.

[sheriffofthesecretpolice]

Howdy folks. 

So I’ve been here doing wtnv rp since about 2012, which is a long time! And it’s always been nothing but fun! But over the last year or two, activity’s been drying up. Almost no one remains of the once-large community I spent so many years writing with, and while I see there are many new people joining us, I’ve been repeatedly running into the problem of plotting with new people and starting threads only to be left hanging for months at a time. 

There are a handful of folk still around who I also write with elsewhere, but it’s because I write with them elsewhere that I’m considering archiving and deactivating all my rp blogs. I’m putting in more effort than I’m getting back, and it’s losing its fun. More and more I’m considering taking my OCs who I write here and giving them their own longform projects. I might set up a writeblr to keep y’all updated on what I’m working on, and if that’s the case, I’ll give you a chance to follow it before I disappear into the ether.  That said: I’m still willing to finish threads in progress, but I need to know you’re going to commit to doing that! Shoot me a message here, discord, anywhere we talk, and we’ll figure out what we want to wrap up and try to make that happen! 

[sheriffofthesecretpolice]

So RP Thread Tracker is shutting down. This is extremely sad.  First of all, if any of you use a different thread tracker, please please link me to it, I’m desperate. 

Secondly, I have over 40 active threads across all my blogs. There is no possible way for me to keep track of them all on my own, so this is what’s happening: any thread that hasn’t moved in a year or more will be archived and dropped at the end of this week. 

I know we’ve all been having a rough time of things and I’ve typically been happy to resurrect old threads, but there’s just too much y’all. If you want to keep such an old thread alive, either respond to it this week or send me a message about it! 

[puckliminal]

historicallieaccurate​:

puckliminal​:

It took only a moment for Puck to decide to follow after her. He hovered at the entrance to the kitchen, suddenly feeling small as he watched Allie take in the state of her garden. 

He wanted to tell her how hard he’d worked to try and tend to it, how many hours he’d spent trying to talk some life back into the plants he had accidentally killed, how badly he’d wanted to preserve her garden for her to enjoy when she came home, so he could hold onto the hope that she would come home, but the words wouldn’t sound and he was forced to retreat to the living room for his pen and paper.  ‘I am sorry,’ said the note he offered her, eyes downcast. ‘I did my best for it.’

Allie finally turned from the window to read his note, and shook her head. It took another moment to fight the instinct engrained into her that told her never to acknowledge a debt before she could muster up a soft, “Thank you for…trying.”

She stepped up to the back door and pulled the curtains shut over the window, not daring to look outside again. “But it no longer matters.”

There was a sad sort of finality to the way she closed the curtains, and it hurt for Puck to witness. He watched Allie for a long moment, expression lost, and then turned and let himself outside: it was time to start calling in favors.

[puckliminal]

historicallieaccurate​:

puckliminal​:

Puck was more than happy to sit there with her for as long as she liked, holding her close. Nothing was good about the situation they had found themselves in, but at least Allie was still willing to figure it out with him. That, in itself, was far more precious than anything else he had known. 

Eventually, morning came. Puck watched the rays of sunlight as they cascaded through the window and crept across the room. He knew he should make good on his word soon, but as always, he was reluctant to leave his wife’s side.

The sunlight started to dispel some of the hopelessness that had taken hold of Allie. The untouched cup of tea on the coffee table caught her attention and, after a few moments to work up the will to move, she slowly untangled herself from her husband to bring it to the kitchen to wash.

With the sun rising the backyard was finally visible through the back windows, and the sight of it stopped Allie halfway to the sink. Her carefully tended garden stood, ruined, half dead and half overgrown, a wild and unmanaged mess. It took her a moment to realize what had happened: her gardener was the identical sister of the woman she had cursed and set on fire, she knew she could not blame Millie for not returning.

It took only a moment for Puck to decide to follow after her. He hovered at the entrance to the kitchen, suddenly feeling small as he watched Allie take in the state of her garden. 

He wanted to tell her how hard he’d worked to try and tend to it, how many hours he’d spent trying to talk some life back into the plants he had accidentally killed, how badly he’d wanted to preserve her garden for her to enjoy when she came home, so he could hold onto the hope that she would come home, but the words wouldn’t sound and he was forced to retreat to the living room for his pen and paper.  ‘I am sorry,’ said the note he offered her, eyes downcast. ‘I did my best for it.’

[puckliminal]

historicallieaccurate​:

puckliminal​:

Her agreement was a huge relief. ‘Then I will start asking in the morning.’

Allie glanced out the window at the dark sky and nodded. They would figure this out. She was home now, safe, with him, and that was what mattered most.

After a moment, she shifted to sit close him again, fitting herself against him with some uncertainty. This part was still new, being in love, and she had no idea what she was doing. But this felt…right. Strange and nerve-racking, but right.

Puck was more than happy to sit there with her for as long as she liked, holding her close. Nothing was good about the situation they had found themselves in, but at least Allie was still willing to figure it out with him. That, in itself, was far more precious than anything else he had known. 

Eventually, morning came. Puck watched the rays of sunlight as they cascaded through the window and crept across the room. He knew he should make good on his word soon, but as always, he was reluctant to leave his wife’s side.

[puckliminal]

historicallieaccurate​:

puckliminal​:

Puck squeezed her hands, reluctant to let go but for the necessity of writing his words out for her. ‘Languages can be learned. Magic can be undone. We will find our way through this together. I know some people who may be able to assist, if you would allow me to reach out to them.’

Allie nodded quickly as he finished writing. “Of course,” she told him. “I would do anything to help take this curse from you.”

Her agreement was a huge relief. ‘Then I will start asking in the morning.’

[puckliminal]

historicallieaccurate​:

puckliminal​:

‘This was my choice,’ Puck wrote. ‘It is no burden, and will not drive me away.’

He shook his head, and set the pen down to take her hands, willing her to feel the truth in his words, to understand that he would never leave her–could never leave her. 

Allie looked down at their hands but all she could see was the sick green of the last spell she had hurt him with. She forced herself to take a deep breath as her guilt only worsened. At least without her magic she could not hurt him with it again. She would have to hold on to that consolation.

“I…will miss the sound of your voice,” she admitted softly. “I understand how my grandmother must have felt, with no one around who spoke her native language.”

Puck squeezed her hands, reluctant to let go but for the necessity of writing his words out for her. ‘Languages can be learned. Magic can be undone. We will find our way through this together. I know some people who may be able to assist, if you would allow me to reach out to them.’

[haunthecause]

[puckliminal]

historicallieaccurate​:

puckliminal​:

Puck hesitated, the line of his jaw hard, his shoulders tight. ‘I care about her,’ Puck wrote, underlining the ‘I.’ 

“I know,” Allie scoffed, immediately regretting answering him so harshly. She sat back as the guilt weighed on her, and after a moment tried again. “I know that is why you did it,” she amended carefully. “But that is not what I care about. I care about fixing it, about not having my husband burdened with a curse I cannot break, about…” 

The fear that had crept over her in his absence came rushing back, and she turned back to him with tears in her eyes. “About not driving you away again.”

‘This was my choice,’ Puck wrote. ‘It is no burden, and will not drive me away.’

He shook his head, and set the pen down to take her hands, willing her to feel the truth in his words, to understand that he would never leave her--could never leave her. 

[puckliminal]

historicallieaccurate​:

puckliminal​:

Slowly, he sank down onto the sofa next to her. He twiddled the pen for a moment before carefully writing out an answer. ‘I have the time to find another way out of it. She does not.’

Allie had to pick her head up to read what he had written, then shook it again. “I do not care about her I care about you,” she said, her voice both bitter and trembling.

It was too much to bear. Her husband was one of the only beings left in this time who could understand her, and he had traded his voice away for the woman who had caused them both so much grief. Now he carried her curse, one she had not even realized she had cast, and there was nothing she could do to save him from it.

Puck hesitated, the line of his jaw hard, his shoulders tight. ‘I care about her,’ Puck wrote, underlining the ‘I.’ 

[puckliminal]

historicallieaccurate​:

puckliminal​:

Puck simply nodded, shoulders tight, and waited for her reaction.

Allie pushed her hair from her face as panic began to fill her. “I–why?” she asked, shaking her head. “I told you I could not break it without my magic–now you…”

Slowly, he sank down onto the sofa next to her. He twiddled the pen for a moment before carefully writing out an answer. ‘I have the time to find another way out of it. She does not.’

[puckliminal]

historicallieaccurate​:

puckliminal​:

For a long, quiet moment, Puck simply sat there with her. He was afraid to tell her what he had done, afraid of her wrath, or worse, her tears, but… he couldn’t avoid it forever. So he pulled away from her to stand, held up one hand to bid her to wait there, and then disappeared into the office. He came back with pen and paper, a note already written on the top sheet, which he offered to Allie: ‘I made a trade. A curse for a curse.’

Allie read over the note quickly before glancing back up at Puck in alarm. “You took my curse from Delia?” she asked him, desperately hoping it was not true.

Puck simply nodded, shoulders tight, and waited for her reaction.

[puckliminal]

historicallieaccurate​:

puckliminal​:

He twined his fingers with hers, and sat back enough to offer a sad smile and to nod his head. There wasn’t anything nearby to write with, at least not anything he was sure he was allowed to write on, but he was reluctant to leave Allie’s side. So after a moment he shrugged, brought his free hand to his throat, and slowly shook his head. 

Allie watched him carefully, trying to make sense of what he was telling her. She reached up to rest her other hand over his as well. “Did something happen?”

For a long, quiet moment, Puck simply sat there with her. He was afraid to tell her what he had done, afraid of her wrath, or worse, her tears, but. . . he couldn’t avoid it forever. So he pulled away from her to stand, held up one hand to bid her to wait there, and then disappeared into the office. He came back with pen and paper, a note already written on the top sheet, which he offered to Allie: ‘I made a trade. A curse for a curse.’

[puckliminal]

historicallieaccurate​:

puckliminal​:

Puck did not answer. 

He couldn’t. 

All he could do was hold Allie close and hide his face in her hair, and hope that when she understood what he had done, she would not be too angry with him. 

His silence worried her, and she reached for his hand for comfort, for him and for herself. “What happened?” she asked quietly. “Are you alright?”

He twined his fingers with hers, and sat back enough to offer a sad smile and to nod his head. There wasn’t anything nearby to write with, at least not anything he was sure he was allowed to write on, but he was reluctant to leave Allie’s side. So after a moment he shrugged, brought his free hand to his throat, and slowly shook his head. 

[puckliminal]

historicallieaccurate​:

puckliminal​:

He came straight to her. In silence, Puck sat beside Allie on the couch, something tired and profoundly sad about his expression, and opened his arms to offer a hug.

That gesture, too, was a great relief, and she shifted carefully so he could wrap her in his arms. She allowed herself a moment to just enjoy his presence once again, but when he offered no explanation she had to ask, “Why did you leave?”

Puck did not answer. 

He couldn’t. 

All he could do was hold Allie close and hide his face in her hair, and hope that when she understood what he had done, she would not be too angry with him. 

[puckliminal]

historicallieaccurate​:

puckliminal​:

“To right a wrong,” was Puck’s only answer before he showed himself out.  True to his words, he did spend a moment in the garden, but then he was gone. It was nearly two hours before he slunk back in, properly using the back door this time, and sought out Allie. 

Allie knew he was gone the moment he left the garden, and that miserable feeling only sunk deeper in her stomach.

Penny had enough sense not to ask her sister about Delia any more, and they didn’t get through many more of her questions before she gave up trying to get more than a one word answer out of her sullen sister. Puck had told her to keep her distance, and she had no idea when he would return, so she took her translation project back to the basement but kept one headphone off, just in case.

Just as she had felt him leave, Allie was able to sense when Puck returned, and the relief that washed over her nearly brought her to tears again. She had not left the sofa in the time he was gone, since there was no better or worse place in the house to be miserable, and mustered enough energy to sit back up and watch for him over the back of the couch with worried eyes.

He came straight to her. In silence, Puck sat beside Allie on the couch, something tired and profoundly sad about his expression, and opened his arms to offer a hug.

[puckliminal]

historicallieaccurate​:

puckliminal​:

“I know,” Puck assured her. He squeezed her hands once more, then said, “I am going out to the garden for a moment,” and stood.

To Penny he said, “Your translator is working well. Give her a moment to collect herself, then finish what you need to talk about.” He started towards the back door, then paused out of Obligation to add, “You’ll want to stay out of the way later. She won’t be happy with me when I get back.”

“Alright,” Allie replied softly, unable to look up as he left. It felt awful to drive him away like this, but it also felt impossible to change her mind about Delia.

Penny glanced up from where she was pretending to fiddle with the translator. “What, why? Where are you going?”

“To right a wrong,” was Puck’s only answer before he showed himself out.  True to his words, he did spend a moment in the garden, but then he was gone. It was nearly two hours before he slunk back in, properly using the back door this time, and sought out Allie.