Tempest

   Hell is empty and all the devils are here | OC RP Blog

[tempest-wood]

severin-ealing‌:

Once the spin of his head stopped and he gained his bearings the panic set in. A farm. Unfamiliar. Unsettling. The structures, the layout – it wasn’t Nightfall territory. A small panic began to build like the snow falling around him, freezing deep to the core. Shit. He needed to find a way home. Where was Lou? He shielded his eyes from the wind, a curtain of snow slamming in sideways decreasing visibility. Severin saw a barn and decided to retreat there for a moment. 

He’d stepped a foot through the door and saw a shadow shooting an arrow of an incantation in his direction. Severin weaved to the side just before a barn rat scurrying between them froze, solid and still. And then he caught of glimpse of Tempest. “Whoa!” His hands came up in surrender but also meant to soothe and assure. “Yah, uhm, Tempest.” He swallowed, trying to catch his breath, trying to talk and quell the surge of adrenaline spiking through him at the same time. “It’s me, Severin. You ok?” Did she know where they were?

Severin. With the fake Ptolemy. Her hooded eyes settled on his face, taking in the sight. 

“I...” She was alive. She could move and talk, mostly. As far as Tempest could tell, she was okay. Maybe there was deeper damage. Her ribs felt sore, and the pain radiated all the way down to her hips. Something in that town square had gone extremely wrong. Maybe she should have been more curious about what had happened, but all Tempest wanted to do was sleep. She retreated back into the stall to sit down.

“I feel like I got kicked by a horse,” she said, “A big one.” That was an understatement. Slowly she bent her knees, pulling her legs up close to her chest one at a time. She shivered. A handful of bleets chorused in response to her words from the next stall over.

“Rathmore’s gonna pitch a fit if he finds you in here.”

[tempest-wood]

severin-ealing‌:

Connecting with Tempest was supposed to be simple. The longer they spoke, the more Severin realized there had been a serious gap in communication thanks to the person bringing them together. He would need to step up and take the reins. The notion was strangely appealing. There was an ebb and flow of interest in council matters. Why did this terse and muddled exchange in a bookstore motivate him so much more? 

She began to speak freely, brainstorming, slowly finding pieces to the puzzle he provided. Severin glanced around cautiously. Tempest did have a solid reputation (or as solid as anyone associated with O’Connor could be). Had ideas. Seemed confident. 

The witch moved to the counter, and Severin took the note back left on the counter. He leaned forward to see her hunched down, brows curiously drawing tighter wondering what she might be doing. “Sounds like you’ve done this before.” Of course he was told of her skill in forging but Tempest not only ran with the request but was practically completing it in her head already. “Anything you need from me? Supplies, something specific?” 

She glanced up at him. Good. She was glad it sounded like she knew what she was doing. That meant she could charge more. Maybe even enough that this would be her last job. Once she got that damn hole patched up, she could add a few extra sales to the books. Get the store back in the black. Then the Wood family would be set.

"Do you have a family grimoire? One that predates the Speedwell?” she asked, and then without waiting for an answer, “Bring it here on tomorrow in the early afternoon. That’s when I do book repairs.” She pulled out a large, leather-bound book from under the counter. It was a schedule of sorts, and she followed the black ribbon that served as a book mark. It opened the book to the current week.

“One o’clock.” She scribbled the time in the margin. “There is a base fee when you received a finished product, and then ten percent of sale which will be required paid in full before any other repairs can be completed for you.”

Tempest Tax as Levi had so eloquently named it.

[tempest-wood]

titaniias‌:

Roald Dahl was a genius; of course his children’s books were amazing but the man also knew how to craft a thriller. And Titania appreciated thrillers; fairy tales were amazing yes, but she found that she could no longer enjoy them as she had before the civil war, and sometimes a more grim tale was better suited for her darkened edges. The Best of Roald Dahl was one of those books you could spend an entire day reading from cover to cover; and it had become Titania’s mission as she stowed herself away near the almanacs and encyclopedias that people rarely went looking for. It was a shame really, who didn’t want to know about the moon and the tides? Maybe if they were placed near the werewolf fantasies they’d get more attention.

She’d planned on making a mental note when her name reached her ears. Oh god. Titania remained in place, frozen for a moment. What could it have been this time? Had she been what? Yes, yes she had. The book she had been enjoying so much would have to wait, as she placed it on one of the higher shelves to keep from prying eyes, and made her way around the maze of their bookstore until she found her sister. 

“Hear me out, the system of organization is fine, but books don’t bend to such structure. Sometimes you’re reading Moby Dick, and then you get curious about the creatures of the sea and want to take a look at the Encyclopedia of Marine Animals…and nobody wants to navigate an entire store to find that second title. It makes sense, Tem.”

Tempest couldn’t help but think that, ideally, customers wouldn’t be reading Moby Dick in the store in the first place. They should have bought Moby Dick, taken it home to read, and then decided to temper their curiosity about marine animals by coming back and buying an encyclopedia to go with it. In which case, said second potential purchase would be easy to find, because it would be shelved by the other encyclopedias. Tempest took a deep breath through her nose, her nostrils flaring. Yelling would not be a constructive tactic.

“Put... them... back,” she said slowly and deliberately. She was not yelling. But a small patch of skin on her forehead turned a shade darker than the rest, and a vein in her neck throbbed. 

“I don’t care if they make sense. I want them to make money.”

[tempest-wood]

Tempest staggered toward one of the empty stalls. She lowered herself down to a seated position, clutching her right side. There was nothing comfortable about sitting on hay, and she couldn’t stand the smell. Slapping each of her heels against the ground, one at a time, she knocked off the snow that clung to her boots. Taking refuge in a random barn felt far too much like war once had.

On her guard, Tempest didn’t hesitate when the barn door opened again. She threw up her hand and chanted the incantation meant to freeze an intruder where they stood. Her reserves were already low. An overwhelming urge to sleep hit her, and her head bobbed down once and jerked back up. She blinked, trying to focus.

@severin-ealing

[tempest-wood]

☾ - sleep headcanon, ♡ - romantic headcanon, ♦ - quirks/hobbies headcanon

☾ - Tempest has never slept in a real bed. She’s slept on a mattress on the floor in the loft of her family’s home since she was a child, and still does because it seems like an extraneous task to get an actual bed up there.

♡ - Tempest had a huge crush on one of her teachers at the Academy when she was still in school.

♦ - Tempest’s hobby (when she actually allows herself time for a hobby) is drawing. She is particularly talented at seeing a piece of art, and being able to recreate it.

[fivepointshq]

Headcanon Meme

Put a symbol (or several) in my ask box, and I’ll give you a headcanon.

☾ - sleep headcanon ★ - sad headcanon ☆ - happy headcanon ☠ - angry/violent headcanon ✿ - Sex headcanon ■ -  Bedroom/house/living quarters headcanon ♡ - romantic headcanon ♥ - family headcanon ☮ - friendship headcanon ♦ - quirks/hobbies headcanon ☯ - likes/dislikes headcanon ▼ - childhood headcanon ∇ -. old age/aging headcanon ♒ - cooking/food headcanon ☼ - appearance headcanon ൠ - random headcanon ◉ - Any other question of your choosing

Please reblog this meme from the HQ, and remember to send out memes to other players if you do. We generally ask that you send each player at least one meme, because we’re a small group and want everyone to feel included. Cheers!

[tempest-wood]

Tempest yanked A Journey Through Temporal Space off the bookshelf from where it was wedged between Squash and Spirits, and An Anthology of Apples. Great. Now she had to comb through this whole shelf to make sure there weren’t any other wayward volumes. As if she didn’t have enough work to do between manning the store, balancing the books, and completing a few under the table jobs on the side. Which had almost paid enough to get that blasted hole fixed on the far side wall.

“Titania!” she shouted, her voice muffled only slightly by the stacks of books between them and the wind whistling past the tarp that covered the hole, “Have you been reorganizing the shelves? How many times have I told you to leave the books alone?!”

@titaniias

[tempest-wood]

rowanmaclain‌:

The stupid truck didn’t want to start, at first. Maybe this place was cursed. It was running just fine before! she’d complained to her cousin. Finally, they got it going. There was no way they’d make it in time to join the others at the town from the north outpost without the truck, so Rowan was thankful they didn’t have to miss anything. Maybe she shouldn’t have been as excited as she was for something to happen.

Zadie was gone in a flash and with the crowds of people, Rowan found herself stuck just trying to find her place in the circle. She was short enough that she couldn’t see over most people, so she scrambled to find a free hand. When she did, she barely had a moment to notice the flap of wings as a falcon landed on the warlock’s arm. Rowan jerked her hands away in surprise and looked up at Samuel with a breathless grin. “It’s fine. My Penelope–” Eats birds that size? “She’s like that, too, just–bigger.” Rowan couldn’t waste any more time being flustered, finally taking Samuel’s hand.

“Oh–Tempest! Over here!” Rowan jumped and waved at the witch with her free hand.

@tempest-wood​

Tempest squeezed between the bodies. She muttered an apology when she stepped on someone else’s foot. She was looking forward to going home after all this. A warm bath and a good book was exactly what she needed on a snowy evening such as this. Greengardens had been an adventurous little search, but she was glad someone else had found the culprit. She didn’t really want to think about the kind of trouble they would have been in if she and the two others she’d been with had found the thing on its own.

She looked over when she heard her name, thinking it would be her sister. Similar dark hair. The bouncing witch was not who she was expecting though. Tempest hurried the last couple steps, closing the distance between them anyway. If she hesitated, there was no telling who she might get stuck next to instead. She took Rowan’s hand with a shy smile, and picked up the nearest hand on her other side.

@imogenhayes​

[tempest-wood]

👨‍👩‍👧‍👦: tell you how our muses are related (Stella!)

They are third cousins on Tempest’s mother’s side. The Wood family doesn’t talk much about that ancestor that decided to leave the Church though. The information is only available in the handwritten family tree found tucked away in an antique family grimoire.

[fivepointshq]

getting to know you.

send me a symbol and I’ll…

♦️ : reply to one of your open starters

✨: write you a starter

💭 : write a headcanon about our muses

💞 : write a drabble about our muses (~100 words or so)

👨‍👩‍👧‍👦: tell you how our muses are related

☎️: write a flashback starter for our muses

Please reblog this meme from the HQ, and remember to send out memes to other players if you do. We generally ask that you send each player at least one meme, because we’re a small group and want everyone to feel included. Cheers!

[fivepointshq]

Send ’ 🎉 ’ to kiss my muse at midnight on New Years Eve.

It’s a special edition of meme Monday: New Year’s Eve!

Please reblog this meme from the HQ, and remember to send out memes to other players if you do. We generally ask that you send each player at least one meme, because we’re a small group and want everyone to feel included. Cheers!

[tempest-wood]

severin-ealing‌:

He missed the time when everything felt simple. And resented the inhabitants of the valley who made him wish for a thing he hated the most. The line appearing above Tempest’s brows drew a false memory in Severin’s mind. That was had been good for business, instead of alleviated by the business. That despite all the atrocities witnessed in battle the warlock smiled more then compared to coming home. Lies which kept him warm over five frozen winters (well, four and half winters). Lies he willingly wanted to believe now even though he knew better. 

An unusual queasiness balled in the pit of his stomach recognizing the bleakly agitated look on the woman’s face was the same he experienced almost everywhere. The dramatic thoughts folded over on themselves as Tempest let him inside a mostly deserted bookstore. Severin had worked with Levi long enough to know most of the time he had to be the one to deal with angry connections and displeased customers. 

Except he wasn’t in the mood. The pause and caution the witch took in bringing him in to her work gave him the chance to regroup. Weight the benefits rather than be distracted by the inconveniences. 

“I understand it’s a busy time of year.” A hand removed a folded piece of paper from the inner pocket of his coat. The ink written as a disintegrating spell, the content directed towards the request: a forge of something old, something sought off, which a customer would be willing to pay gratefully for. He held it out to her between two fingers. “If you find anything similar, please let me know, and I’ll pay you for the trouble as it is important.” 

Perhaps if the shop had been a little more busy, she wouldn’t have had to resort to these kinds of ventures in the first place. But books were a luxury compared to food and shelter, and war had been hard on many. Tempest glanced down at the note. He held it out like he was tipping one of the waitresses at the diner. She nearly rolled her eyes, and plucked the paper from his hand with a sharp, pinched grasp. She read over it quickly.

“A Ptolemy,” she said in a breathy whisper, forgetting momentarily to speak in coded riddles. Scavenging paid the bills. So did added signatures Levi’s phony permission slips. This was different. What he was asking her to do was so far out of the realm of petty crime. It was more like art, and it immediately piqued her interest.

“It would have to be incomplete though,” she continued. She had already broken the pretense. They were here for the same purpose, and there didn’t seem to be much more damage she could do by speaking openly. “It would only take a single attempt at casting to realize if it wasn’t. If we ripped off a corner...”

Absentmindedly, Tempest began to walk away from him. She moved over to the front counter, and ducked behind it. She dropped the note on the counter. The words had already begun to fade, leaving behind a mostly blank scrap of paper. That was smart.

“A lot of the older grimoires can be dated by the style of lettering they use. I can take care of that, no problem. The paper itself is the issue. Our best bet is probably going to be pulling an unusable page out of an actual grimoire, and adding the wording on top of it.”

[tempest-wood]

severin-ealing‌:

He checked his watch. He had five minutes before the shop closed. So Severin took his time and strolled leisurely down a sugar colored sidewalk. Feet away the sign in the window quickly turned over. Closed? The hell? The warlock dashed forward to catch Tempest walking away and knocked to get her attention. 

“I thought I had a few minutes?” He checked his watch. Again. “Sorry if you’re wanting to close up. Maybe I can make this quick. I’m looking for a book on Silas Abernathy.” Abernathy was a famous forger some 100 or so years ago. He suspected Tempest would be well aware of what it meant. 

“It’s a gift for Levi. I can come back tomorrow but it’s possible someone else might have the book I need by then.” The cloak and dagger stuff seemed a little tedious however those were the instructions. “Just trying to wrap up some last minute holiday shopping.” He buried balled fists into the warmth of coat pockets and bounced on his toes while craning to peer into the store. Was she going to let him in or was Levi wasting his time?

Silas Abernathy. Specialized in magical ‘recreations’ or so he called them. The man was a complete criminal. Incidentally, she had just finished up a book herself that had talked a fair bit about Abernathy for a little project she’d been working on for...

“It’s a gift for Levi.”

She had been irritated enough when Levi called her cut the Tempest Tax - that was wholly incriminating - but that was nothing compared to the white hot fury that preemptively began to course through her veins when she realized that this man was using the exact lines they had designated for a special pickup. Maybe he really wanted a gift, though. Or maybe the next time she saw that blasted O’Conner she was going to wring his neck. 

Tempest did nothing but stare for a long, quiet moment. Then she pushed the door open, and flicked her head toward the inside of the store. Come on, she wanted to say, hurry up. But that would have seemed a bit suspicious to anyone who was really there just to buy a book. As soon as he was clear of the door, Tempest stuck her head to check for any other unwanted visitors. No raccoons as far as the eye could see. She shut the door behind them.

“I’m not sure I have what you’re looking for on hand,” she answered, “Abernathy books usually require a few days notice. We don’t keep many stocked in the store.”

[tempest-wood]

witchxwendy‌:

wildmansoul‌:

Throwing a pot seemed like a futile defense against anything moving in the store, corporeal or otherwise. On top of that, she seemed oddly casual about it, not spooked or anything, like pitching pots was a routine pastime of hers.

He watched her with narrowed eyes for a moment before finally rounding the doorframe and coming to stand on the aisle. He saw her extend a hand towards him, seemingly glued to the spot. A lopsided smile tugged on his lips as he made his way towards her, “Nice to meet you, Tempest,” he extended a hand towards her, now at a more appropriate distance, “I’m Eli, and I brought both blankets and snacks,” it seemed like it was going to be a chilly night.

“So what do you suppose we should do next? Scout the interior, set up traps,” he shifted a bit and indicated with a nod of his head, “Untangle the rhododendrons,” they seemed quite unhappy about the new arrangement they had been forced into. His thoughts were interrupted as another crash sounded through the building. A moment of silence as he listened, it was supposed to be just two of them but he definitely could hear the distinct sound of approaching footsteps.

@witchxwendy·

She had been walking through the familiar walls of Greengardens, trying to find where the others who had been stationed in her coven’s greenhouse for the night were when she heard a loud crash. Wendy sucked in a sharp breath and stopped dead in her tracks. Poltergeists… why did it have to be a poltergeist? She listened intently in the silence, and finally breathed when she heard footsteps and voices. So it wasn’t the poltergeist- at least, not yet. 

Wendy tried to work her way past the tight rows of pots and plants with her bag in a hurry, but accidentally knocked into one of them. The resulting crash made her jump. “Shit...” She whispered to herself. Thankfully it had been an empty pot, and not one with a poor plant residing inside. The voices from the other room got quiet once again, and she hesitantly made her way in to find two unfamiliar faces. “Er- hi. Sorry about the crash- it was just me.” She said, offering a sheepish smile.  

@tempest-wood​

Just as she opened her mouth to say scouting the interior and setting up traps seemed like a good course of action (untangling the rhododendrons could wait until they had been there a few hours and had run out of things to do), another crash sent Tempest scurrying back a few steps. Her fingers groped around the nearest shelf, searching for another pot to throw. Her hand came up empty. Which was fortunate because it was not a ghost that popped up from around a large, leafy fern, but a young woman.

“Between the three of us, we’re making more noise than any old poltergeist. You okay?” she asked. Then Tempest held out her hand to the newcomer. “I’m Tempest. This is Eli. We were just trying to figure out what to do next, look around a bit more or set up some defenses. What kind of traps do you think might work, Eli?”

@wildmansoul​

[tempest-wood]

wildmansoul‌:

Something swooshed past him and crashed against the back wall of the store. He hastily retreated though the door he had barely manged to get past and pressed his back against the wall. Somehow he hadn’t expected the action to start quite soon, now… he wasn’t entirely sure how to approach the situation. A banishing spell? Uh, rock salt? A binding spell? Asking the thing for tea and delving into its childhood to uncover the root of its anger? Probably the latter if he was left to his own devices. He peeked around the corner to the direction the object was thrown from, and frowned.

“You trying to steal the poltergeist’s job?” he asked eyes wide, “Wait,” his voice quieted, “Are you possessed?” Exorcism, he could definitely perform an exorcism.

“Sorry. Instinct.” More from the war than any fear she might have harbored over a ghost. Even though it was probably exactly what someone who was possessed would say, she quickly added, “No, I’m not possessed.”

Whoever it was didn’t seem to be moving any closer, and Tempest likewise stayed near the front door. Just in case a quick exit was needed. Couldn’t be too careful in strange circumstances like these. Tempest squinted down the aisle to get a better look at the peeking face.

“I heard something moving, and... I guess I... I should have figured. Sorry, let’s start over. Hello. I’m Tempest,” she said, and she held out her hand even though he was much too far away to shake it. Realizing that, she let it drop back at her side. “What’s your name?”

[tempest-wood]

😫 = How does your muse handle a family member being stressed out? What about sick?

Tempest handles sick family members with ease. She makes soup, and tucks them into bed. She hasn’t dealt with a lot of stressed out family members as she is usually the one prone to worrying about things.

[tempest-wood]

👍 = Does your muse think they’re a good child and/or sibling?

Tempest believes she is an exceptional daughter, a loving sibling, and an overall caretaker of the entire family. In some ways this is true. She prefers to push choices based on what she feels is best for her family members, though, rather than giving them the freedom to determine their own lives. She considers this acting out of love.