Don't Eat the Fuckin' Candy

Most people will say witches ain’t real, it’s the stuff of fairy tales. Then one day they show up at your door and eat your kids. That’s where we come in. Me and my sister... we have a past. We almost died at the hands of a witch. But that past made us stronger. We'd gotten a taste of blood. Witch blood. And we haven't stopped since.

[scoundrelbrother]

[ ɢʀᴇᴛᴇʟ ]:

Gretel stiffened, just slightly. Barely noticeable even. It wasn’t that she had been doing anything bad, it was just the question its’ self.

                  "No where important." she said. 

He squeezes his hand. The inky blood, still warm from his own heat, squishes and quails between bandage and skin.

"Oh.      Okay."

"So you can tell me."

[scoundrelbrother]

[ мιηα ]:

"It is not that I thought that you would think of me as too weak. I was afraid out of da worry that you might leave me in hopes of keeping me safe." She was relieved to hear him say what he did.

Mina moved her hand over his. “I am sorry… I know I should not have kept it from you… There is no excuse. It was very selfish of me.”

She took a deep breath, already tired. But she was glad he would at least talk to her. He never really spoke like this with her before.

Silence rolls in his throat like an inkwell's ink-- geared to craft words, but only should he choose to pick up the quill. He chooses not to, instead listening with half-heart, until the last word leaves her lip. The bloody swathe cut through each other was everywhere, no one could miss the cleave of betrayal tearing his expression.

     But as a precaution,           he pulls his hand away.

"Then why did you tell Ben?"

[scoundrelbrother]

How did you get to become such a detailed and fluid writer? Is it a natural talent you've always possessed, lots of reading/ practice, writing work classes? Perhaps a combination of the three?

Well, when I was just fourteen my parents built a very strange machine. It was designed to view a world unseen. When it didn’t quite work, my folks, they just quit, so then I took a look inside of it. There was a great big flash, everything just changed, my molecules got all rearrange—

nah. First of all, thank you so much for asking. It’s an amazing compliment. To answer you question, I’d have to say it’s some combination of the three. I’ve loved writing since I was very young, and I’ve read no small amount of books. I draw most of my inspiration from epic poetry, as it’s always been my favorite form of literature. As far as classes go, I’ve taken several technical writing classes, but I enjoy creative writing much more and benefited best from film production classes. I am an aspiring screenwriter, and writing on this blog and my Hawkeye blog have helped me immensely. 

[scoundrelbrother]

[ αмelια ]:

( still completely and utterly confused as to what it was he was holding, she keeps analytic dark eyes on its shape, slowly assessing its appearance. )

                                                           definitely a weapon. but to his attempt to ease the sudden tension by pulling it away, she finds herself……….

              LAUGHING. ❝ oh, what a relief. i can never be too careful because of my…. ❞          words halt on her tongue. because of her royal blood? he doesn’t know yet. maybe she should keep it that way. it’s safer, & a fresh start is always nice.

                                                    because being a runaway princess is never a good thing.

          & to the mention of witches, she froze in place.

moments passed of silence from her, until all she could manage was                       ❝ so it’s safe for you, then? ❞ she doubted it.

"Yes. Yes it is."

And his chest puffs a little then, sweeping upward to blunt the blow dealt to his self-worth. His feud-calloused hands have been wet with the blood of over six hundred witches; even now, he tracks one who isn't long for this world. She roams hasped and hooped and hirpling with pain, and when he finds her, it will be he who stills her heartbeats.

"I kill witches for a living.           Hack off their heads, skin their hides--           Light 'em on fire."

He hefts his shotgun over his shoulder.

"It is very safe.           ...for, um... me. Not you.           You should go home."

[scoundrelbrother]

[ мιηα ]:

She had wondered if he was going to say anything or just stand there and stare. He did a lot of that lately. Mina figured he had to been cursing her under his breath, and she didn’t blame him for it if that was the case.

Her eyes hadn’t even been on him, and she had known. What surprised her was the sudden closeness. He had seemed to have been avoiding that. Her whole body had gone rigid when he started to speak, at least, until he finished his question.

"Hansel…" Her voice was soft, a little shaky. "I did not wish to worry you. You have your own sickness to keep after…" That was only part of it. "You worry enough as is after each encounter, your sister, myself… and even Benjamin, though you do not show it so well…."

She was too afraid if she told him all of it…. no, she did owe it to him.

"And if I am going to be honest; I believed if you knew, you would have left me behind…." Mina’s voice trailed off towards the end, becoming even more quiet. Her hands moved to fold in her lap, deciding to stare at them rather then see the look on Hansel’s face.

For years, Hansel has stood guard over his sister, and he met any danger hot and savage, with fierce impatience. He would part life from limb for Gretel. That same pent-up fury warmed his veins at the loss of Mina, when he though she was dead; he'd avenged her as best he could.

He has kept going often in the past, through perils and ordeals of every sort. But he's burned with betrayal like this only once before, after discovering Mina was a witch. That was a greater affliction, one he managed to cast aside his fears and anxieties for and forgive. 

Maybe it can be done again. Maybe his affections for her are strong enough, and her words soothing, and he can outgrapple his anger for her sake. Her intentions, though not excusable, were pure.

"Mina, I... I wouldn't do that. To you or Gretel-- or Ben.           Maybe I... would have, once. Before-- everything. But not now."

"I wouldn't do that."

[scoundrelbrother]

[ αмelια ]:

        ——— steps are a tempo of caring and curious, colliding with the dirt below in such nonchalant strides. hardly coming to the realization that there is a high possibility someone else was out here.

                                             ❝ ahh! ❞                                                      she blurts, a clear sign of disturbance.                                                                        eyes lock with the strange object.

            ❝ are you trying to kill me? or threaten me? cause whatever i did, i’m sorry. so so sorry. and i’ll do whatever you want…………… unless it’s something violent, then i don’t particularly want to. but that… whatever that is…. what is that? ❞

( whatever it may be, it didn’t look overly friendly. & she truly didn’t wish to challenge it. )

                                          so she remains in place until further instructions were given.

Hansel bears himself with valor. He is formidable in battle, yet fickle with honor. He often appears gruff in manner, a scoundrel who fails to keep his temper and, warrior that he is, is taken for less than he is worth. It leaves him wearied by strangers, uncomfortable in the face of conversation, and his bulwark of valor is easily cracked.

"I, uh -- no, no."

He grapples the gun close, cradling it tight to his chest, to douse her fears or otherwise.

"You're in witch territory, miss.           You know, uh-- big, scaly... ugly hags.           Dark magic an'... fangs."

"It's not safe. For you, I mean. Here."

[scoundrelbrother]

He is sad at heart, unsettled yet ready, sensing the exchange. His anger hovers near, unknowable but certain: it will either claim his coffered heart or be slaked with her answer. Mina's offence was a wrongfooting of the heart's affections, one that sears every beat beneath Hansel's chest. But unlike the heartstrings there, he is quiet. Resolved.

He watches her from across the room, heartsore and wearied, and then draws himself up beside her. Words have been scarce between them since the day at the spring, and only now do the words tumble first from his lips.

"--Mina."

"...Why didn't you tell me?"

[scoundrelbrother]

[ αυrorα ]:

     Aurora can only watch as he slowly recovers from his fall, hands placed firmly upon her skirts as she sits on the ground not too far from him, fabric of her dress mingling with the damp dirt. Her gaze remains placed upon the man in front of her, watching him in his struggles— relieved that at least he seemed unharmed for the most part despite his large fall. 

                         ❝ Well, uhm… you’re in the woods, ❞

        she offers,  large eyes wide and innocent— unknowing. Truly, she has no name to put to their surroundings, only the forests she has always known. She has no knowledge of where others would live because she’s never dared to walk along the roads, never dared to speak to any strangers before now.

          It’s always been just her and her godmothers living here, content for the most part— and she’s always known better than to talk to any strangers. 

                                                      ❝ Who— who are you looking for ? ❞

For a long moment Hansel appears to doze, eyes pinched tight at the top of his cheek, the better for him to cope with the scald and swell of pain suppurating inside him. But he lifts a hand to swab his chin of stale blood, and the beginnings of an utterance breaks out from his chest.

"-- My sister.           We were, ah... we were hunting and uh, separated, and then the, uh... tree."

Hansel opens his eyes and steadies his gaze on the girl in front of him, unquelled by her hesitance and lack of answers. But he speaks in spite of his wounds, for he knows the only wound that could not ever be healed is the loss of his sister, and the sooner he finds Gretel, the sooner he can put his afflictions to rest.

"So you... live out here?"

[thermopopolis-deactivated201408]

& scoundrelbrother

[scoundrelbrother]

[ αмelια ]:

          ( such precious scenes. darkened green and shimmering sunlight.                       oh how a simple forest had such beauty.                                    she had forgotten how that could be so. )

& it made her quite sad. however none of that mattered anymore. for she had wandered into the unknown once more, only to flee that of her own home. she just had no idea where it was she was heading to.

The forest paths are marred all over with the monster's tracks, her trail on the ground wherever she had gone across the dark moors, dragging her keeled body through the thorns. 

Gretel's arrow had pierced the witch's thick hide and driven her back into the dismal wood. Her days were numbered, the end of her life was coming over her, war-weary and wrecked from splinters and loss of blood. The slow task of tracking her through the bloated forest to finish the deed and harvest any commodities fell at once to Hansel. 

But the hunt is still warm in his veins, so the hunter proceeds undismayed up fells and screes and along narrow footpaths. It's a sore shock when he tears past brambles and comes upon a woman alone in the wood. He raises his shotgun, loaded and racked, but when the surprise melts away and he measures the danger, it lowers back to his side.

"--Um, hi. Miss."

"You shouldn't be here."

[scoundrelbrother]

[ вєη ]:

[ мιηα ]:

She put an arm around Ben’s neck to help, not that it would be much at all. Mina didn’t like putting them at a risk, still moving this late, but she didn’t know if she would make it until morning otherwise.

The black dripped from her lips, no matter how much she tried to wipe it off, staining her pale skin, and unfortunately Ben’s clothing and any spatter from her coughing. “I am so sorry…. for everything, Ben.” She knew he was in it deep, worse than she was with Hansel.

The teen followed behind the hunter, trying to be careful not to jostle Mina too much. Usually he could keep pace, but with the extra weight of carrying Mina he trailed behind by a few feet. “It’s alright,” he said softly, mustering a small smile. “I knew Hansel would be pissed off at some point. It was just a matter of when he’d find out.”

Hansel journeys ahead, his attention snatched from the cloven trail he follows only by the occasional glance to Ben and Mina. The last embers of sunset light his path and map, and he presses on, past wood and bramble, face set in canny determination. 

When finally the spring fades into sight, its silky smooth surface ripples in the breeze, lapping over its chalky edge. Hansel slows at the treeline and moors his gaze back, waiting for Ben to follow. He slings his gun over his shoulder and meets Ben quietly, easing his own arms beneath Mina's knees and shoulder.

"Here--"

Hansel lifts Mina from Ben's arms, slow, careful, constrained; he's felt the riving sting of battle wounds tear his own skin enough to recognize that pain in others, and Hansel holds no desire to afflict Mina with more.

[thefictionaledition]

Heroes Hansel and Gretel: Swamp witch dead

[scoundrelbrother]

[ αυrorα ]:

      Despite the dismissal, Aurora couldn’t help but watch as he struggled further —       and then fell to the ground. Curious, and a little bit concerned for the stranger,        she was quick to run to his aid, crouching down beside him as he lay on the        dirty ground.

      Innocent eyes widened at the coarse language; she’d heard her aunties curse       before, but never heard this one. From the sounds of it and the looks of him,        it was a meaner word than those that she’d heard before from her ’family’. 

                            ❝ Are you alright ? Can you move ? ❞

      She looked about him, worried for the man yet hesitant to touch him or come       too close. It was hard to see how bad any injuries he’d taken could be, Aurora       had little experience with any sort of bodily harm or — well, anything. She bit       her lip, cerulean gaze flickering about him. 

                                                ❝ Is— is anything broken ? ❞

"I'm --           wonderful."

Pain bites to his ligaments and bolts through his blood. Every bone in his body quails and recoils, but he remains utterly motionless, a heap on the dirt. Slowly he blinks the double-vision from his eyes, his muscles harrowed with pain and affliction, and he hefts himself up. But the standing power of his legs fail him, and he stumbles in the mud-soaked dirt like some newborn foal and settles instead on his haunches.

"-- fine, I'm... Thanks, I'm fine."

The blood comes ringing and singing in his head, and he leans back against the esker of the antagonist tree, his own limbs slump. He wipes away a smear of blood that saturates his vision, and his eyelashes stick with each blink. But his muddled eyes snag on a glint beneath the forest leaves near his left, and he scrubs away the dirt and plants to reveal his shotgun. A look of relief replaces pain, and he pulls the gun close to his chest, lungs beneath still heaving.

"Say, uh..."

"Can you tell me, uh--           tell me where we are?           There's someone I gotta find."

[scoundrelbrother]

[ вєη ]:

[ мιηα ]:

Of course he was going to ignore her. And she wondered after his concern was over, if he’d go back to ignoring her again, but for now, she’d take it, she knew she deserved it.

Mina managed to pull herself up, but with one attempt at a step, she stumbled down and fell on her knees. “No… it does… it does not seem so.” She said between coughs. 

When Ben saw her stumble, he quickly went to her side. He’d helped her walk in quite the bad state before, but if they were going to get anywhere, she would need to be carried. The teen gave a glance to Hansel before helping Mina to her feet. 

"Here, I’ve got an idea."

Putting arm arm around her shoulders, the teen leaned down slightly and swept up her legs so he was holding Mina bridal style. Admittedly she was a bit heavy for him to be able to carry all the way to the spring, but with Hansel being so angry with the the both of them what else was he supposed to do.

His affections for Mina and his seldom shown sentiment for family entreats him to step forward when Mina stumbles. But his anger is warm and familiar where sentimentality is cold and foreign, and the betrayal soaks his muscles to paralysis. His step comes too late-- he's left rocking his weight, one foot to the other, like a rocking chair with one leg sawed short.

"-- careful. Hear me, kid?           Careful."

But as Hansel presses into the woods, he's grateful for the shotgun hefted grievously over his shoulder, for when night falls over the forest, the cold isn't the only thing that awakes from its slumber.

[elliotsowen-hasmoved-blog-deact]

I’m not going to have this bitch and her scoundrel of a brother coming into my town…

[scoundrelbrother]

[ αυrorα ]:

                                                        ❝ …Fine. I’m fine. ❞  

      The girl watches him try to reach up towards the trap, and she eyes his grasping       for the tether that holds him there —— all to no avail. She’s got no clue as to why       he’s tied up, but it looks more like an accident than something done on purpose.       He doesn’t seem all that dangerous, for a stranger.

      She can’t help but giggle just a tiny bit when his cloak falls over his head, and        she knows it’s very rude—— but it’s also a little bit funny. She tries to stifle the little       laugh with her hands, and falls quiet quickly when his gaze is turned back upon        her, expression turning solemn easily. 

                         ❝ I, uhm… I don’t know. I didn’t know                                            that there was a town around here. ❞

       She’s seen hunters wandering out about the woods occasionally when the game        is in season… but she’s never really spoken to anyone, never been seen by anyone. 

                                            ❝ Do you… need help getting down from there ? ❞

"Oh. Okay.           Thank you. Thanks."

Again and again he cranes for the assaulting branch, only once touching the prick of its coveted twigs, save to have it brushed from his fingertips as he drops back once more. Two huffs and a grunt later and the tree still spurns any and all of his endeavors. "Motherf—" 

And yet as soon as the question leaves her lips, he interjects with, “No, I’m fine. Fine. Thank you.” With a curt smile, he tips his head, offering a soft nod, and raises his thumb for aplomb.

“Okay.” Another stretch, met with no avail. “—see you later.”

Just as he heaves for one final assay, the limb buckles and the vines snap, dropping Hansel as it would any ripened acorn; not without snapping several smaller twigs and taking half a branch with him, Hansel lands with a thud, stomach-first atop the muddy, leaf-spattered loam of the forest. 

          "-- ...Motherfucker."

[scoundrelbrother]

[ вєη ]:

[ мιηα ]:

"Hansel..!" She had started before he had turned his attention to Ben. "Hansel!!!" Hopefully she would get his attention.

The witch swallowed hard, more nervous now with a lump in her throat. “It is from Muriel…” She wouldn’t look at either of them, too afraid of rejection from Hansel and too afraid to get Ben in more trouble.

"Da wound…. It will not heal…" Mina absently touched her bleeding side. "I have tried many things, I have not seen a curse like this before… I need a healing spring…" Her breath was shaky. "It… keeps it healed for a short time."

Ben wasn’t sure what he could say when Hansel rounded on him. Luckily  for him Mina had started explaining things to the hunter. The teen took a step back from Hansel, just in case he decided to channel his rising anger into something physical.

"She made me promise not to tell…" Ben frowned, knowing that would probably anger him more. Quickly he turned his attention back to Mina and pulled out the map the two had been working on. "I found one of the springs nearby," he said hurriedly. "It’s not too far to walk to from here."

If Ben thought that extra step would save him, he was sorely mistaken, for Hansel crossed the gap between them in one easy lope. He roamed forth, moving towards Ben, spurned and joyless, with rage boiled over.

"You--                fuckin', you fuckin' knew about this!"

But instead of gripping the kid's collar and pinching his fingers tight to his throat like his hands and arms, warm with adrenaline, so want to do, Hansel slaps the map from Ben's hand to read it himself.

After careful consideration, he tucks the map between his cloak and his neck. For a long moment there is silence, words spoken only by the afflicted glare chilled in his gaze. But then he, hard-pressed, takes firm grip of his shotgun and brings it to his shoulder.

"Help her up, let's move.                Mina, can you walk?"

[scoundrelbrother]

[ αυrorα ]:

                Aurora had been watching him dangle for a while now — and had taken                  cover by the safety of an old oak when he had stirred. She froze at the                  sound of the stranger’s voice, honestly a little bit scared —— she’d never                  spoken to anyone other than her aunts before.

                But he was tied all the way up there, and she was down on the ground,                 safe. Really, she wasn’t sure of what to do, there were a few moments of                  hesitation as she stared up at him, leaning against the safety of the tree. 

                           ❝ Uhm… Hello… ❞

                The girl took a cautious step out, deciding it better to see if he needed                  help than to simply run off. Big blue eyes peered up at him innocently,                  trying her best to judge whether or not he’d mean any harm… But that                 was hard to do. She’d never met a stranger before, she’d never been                 anywhere near anyone, and certainly not tied up and hanging from a tree.

                                                         ❝ Are… you alright ? ❞

"I'm wonderful.           How are you?"

Scrunching his abdomen, Hansel arches and heaves himself upward, clawing at the deadfall of vines and branches that’s coiled about his ankle like some half-starved snake. Finding no purchase, he slips back, swaying to and fro with the momentum.

His cloak catches a ruffle of wind and like a sail billows over his head. He tosses his hands, swatting at some invisible foe much as he would any visible one; only when the wind settles does he level his upside-down gaze with hers.

It would be easy for both he and his dignity to turn the other cheek, to ask for help.           Of course, that dignity would surely be left in the tree.

"Say... could you tell me, uh --"

          "-- which way's back to town?"