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Entry tags:
i want fangs (open)
WHO: Emilia di Carlo + whoever would like to join her.
WHEN: Throughout the month of March.
WHERE: The village of Ke-Waihu.
WHAT: Arrival, settling in, wolves, and horrors.
WARNINGS: Will update this as needed. As a note: My starters are in prose but I love prose and brackets equally. Go with your preference if you have one, and I will gladly match.
Emilia di Carlo does not arrive to the village of Ke-Waihu quietly.
For a near two decades — the only two decades an ancient curse allows her to remember — she was the dutiful and responsible daughter. The one who obeyed her family's rules and erred on the side of abundant caution. She stayed to the light and did all things a good witch must. She hid herself and contained her magic. When the hateful brothers roamed the streets in search of those with devilry in their souls to burn them at their pyres, she bit her tongue and swallowed the resentment. Closed her windows and kept her twin close at the bosom. Served food at the monastery the next day, for who would be suspicious of the one who nurtures?
It did not keep them safe.
Now she cares little to make herself palatable, to do as she is told even as a deep sense of responsibility lingers. Tension lines her jaw as she is stripped of her bearings, furious in her dignity. Suspicion crowds the sharp of her gaze when presented with a brew, one her Nonna Maria would tell her under no circumstances to drink. Won't you, she is asked, and she decides that she will not. No one can make her, not even the merchant's liaison Taksui, he with the vicious eyes. She is vicious, too, and has learned to bide her time.
A villager woman, her eyes kind but distant, fails to understand Emilia's unwillingness. Shows Emilia the marks of her own curses, as though they are gifts upon the skin. She is willing, even, to take a fourth curse upon herself should Emilia deny them. Whispers to her of the other villages, including one where all curses can be broken. Emilia, already cursed, doesn't readily believe. Neither does she ignore.
Theirs is a precarious situation. Under no circumstances are they to blow their cover, she knows. But there are certain concessions she is unwilling to make, and certain answers that will not be withheld from her. To demand this of her without question is not reasonable, no matter how desperate she is. She knows this, too.
And so they are given days. Days to think it over, days to speak with the villagers, days to decide. The more she learns, the less she is assured, but so is she reminded of her dwindling options, too. One curse atop another. One mission that blinds her to all else.
She drinks the brew.
The frustration, the wrongness of it — the anger — sits in the space between her ribs, and grows. ➥
WHEN: Throughout the month of March.
WHERE: The village of Ke-Waihu.
WHAT: Arrival, settling in, wolves, and horrors.
WARNINGS: Will update this as needed. As a note: My starters are in prose but I love prose and brackets equally. Go with your preference if you have one, and I will gladly match.
Emilia di Carlo does not arrive to the village of Ke-Waihu quietly.
For a near two decades — the only two decades an ancient curse allows her to remember — she was the dutiful and responsible daughter. The one who obeyed her family's rules and erred on the side of abundant caution. She stayed to the light and did all things a good witch must. She hid herself and contained her magic. When the hateful brothers roamed the streets in search of those with devilry in their souls to burn them at their pyres, she bit her tongue and swallowed the resentment. Closed her windows and kept her twin close at the bosom. Served food at the monastery the next day, for who would be suspicious of the one who nurtures?
It did not keep them safe.
Now she cares little to make herself palatable, to do as she is told even as a deep sense of responsibility lingers. Tension lines her jaw as she is stripped of her bearings, furious in her dignity. Suspicion crowds the sharp of her gaze when presented with a brew, one her Nonna Maria would tell her under no circumstances to drink. Won't you, she is asked, and she decides that she will not. No one can make her, not even the merchant's liaison Taksui, he with the vicious eyes. She is vicious, too, and has learned to bide her time.
A villager woman, her eyes kind but distant, fails to understand Emilia's unwillingness. Shows Emilia the marks of her own curses, as though they are gifts upon the skin. She is willing, even, to take a fourth curse upon herself should Emilia deny them. Whispers to her of the other villages, including one where all curses can be broken. Emilia, already cursed, doesn't readily believe. Neither does she ignore.
Theirs is a precarious situation. Under no circumstances are they to blow their cover, she knows. But there are certain concessions she is unwilling to make, and certain answers that will not be withheld from her. To demand this of her without question is not reasonable, no matter how desperate she is. She knows this, too.
And so they are given days. Days to think it over, days to speak with the villagers, days to decide. The more she learns, the less she is assured, but so is she reminded of her dwindling options, too. One curse atop another. One mission that blinds her to all else.
She drinks the brew.
The frustration, the wrongness of it — the anger — sits in the space between her ribs, and grows. ➥
no subject
Moving the subject away from that seems to ease the pressure he was feeling, and he barely resists an eye-roll when she points out the obvious. ]
You don't say. [ He's going for a record on how many times he can get cursed, apparently. The cuts on his hands are one of the more annoying side effects. But speaking of the birds... ]
...How did you know it was talking about me, anyway?
no subject
( Enjoy that visual, Five. It was creepy. )
I thought it was you, at first. Until I turned the corner and found the parrot instead, muttering all sorts of things about the moon. ( This would have drawn her attention regardless, as the Daughter of the Moon. But also because it reminded her of the sort of harrowing incoherence Claudia had once babbled.
The moon is a fang, waiting to sink its teeth into us all. Devouring. Devouring blood and bone until we're dust. )
no subject
Somehow not as disturbing as what it picked up and relayed to Emilia. Ever since he spoke to Allison, he's been trying to figure it out. He doesn't know if he only lost a sibling. Whatever happened to him, his memory of that day is fragmented, and every time he tries to piece it together his head starts hurting too badly to get a full picture.
He knows what was missing in the sky during his decades in the apocalypse. And he remembers what was raining down on him when he pulled his siblings back with him, just not why. ]
The... [ It happens again, that sharp pain, and he catches his breath and gives her a hard look. This is why he never gets very far, but he can't help but try to push a little more. ] You should ask Allison about the moon. She'll tell you.
[ His sister refuses to tell him, but Emilia is her friend. She won't clam up and claim that she's afraid of breaking her brain. ]
no subject
He must really be desperate if he thinks he can steer her to do his bidding. Even his hard look does not land as it might otherwise, or maybe that has to do with her recent experience engaging demon princes and their psychological warfare. She is not easy to rattle as she might have been, once.
She knows the true meaning of fear.
It would be tempting to leave Five to his devices, especially anticipating the scorn her concern would be met with. But she is concerned, if the furrow of her brow is anything to go by. And, well, if he wants to be foolish and wave off a powerful source of magic that could help then that is well within his rights. )
Because you can't.
( Something is stopping him. It reminds her of Wrath when she demanded answers of him. It was like his tongue had been swallowed. )
no subject
Emilia knows she has him backed into a corner, and he knows he put himself there. Or did he? She might have only made it seem like he was guiding the conversation to something she already suspected. The look of worry is too similar to one he's seen in his siblings whenever they've prodded him about it.
As soon as he opens his mouth to deny her assumptions, he feels something dripping and he takes a quick swipe at his nose. ]
The moon struck the earth. [ He quickly interjects before she can ask. ] If you really want to know. Everyone died.
no subject
She took every step available to her to prevent such a catastrophe, but Five is telling her that in his world it happens. And it's more than that, too. It's the saturation of magic that he is emanating. How he isn't choking on it, she doesn't know.
It's been happening more and more, as of late. Ever since she removed her cornicello and handed it back to Wrath. Well, what she thought was her cornicello. They're his wings, and if their suspicions are correct, they've also been a way to leash her abilities. To keep her at a disadvantage.
The more time passes, the more something in her awakens. Standing before Five, she doesn't know how she missed it before. )
Who did this to you?
no subject
He could tell her. That apocalypse happened, and he lived with it for most of his life, but he went back. In theory they changed the timeline enough. It's not a guarantee, but he has the math down now. He'll keep going back until his family is safe. All of his family. He tells himself that his equations don't change because he can't remember one of them, but in reality... he doesn't know.
The spike in his temple splinters again, and he realizes that she must have noticed. He brings his hand up to his nose and spares a glance to see how badly he's bleeding by what gets absorbed by the bandages. — He's had worse, but it's dripping steadily, and it's spoiling any hope that he could intimidate her with his knowledge of the apocalypse.
Then she asks that and he freezes. He narrows his eyes as he tries to interpret her wording. ]
It's nothing. [ He frowns and lowers his hand, like it's suspicious for her to care. The way she's looking at him. ] ...What?
no subject
( This is muttered under her breath, for his benefit and his benefit alone. There are certain topics of discussion Emilia will not chance anyone hearing, and she looks to the side to assess just how many people are currently milling about, before she discreetly casts and pretends to resume her stroll. )
This is not nothing. It was a wave of magic, and it is binding you.
( Not unlike when Envy hexed her after she infiltrated his domain and stole a book she needed. She still remembers what it felt like when Celestia undid the hex, like invisible threads were being snipped and whipping across her body in rapid succession. Fucking Envy. )
Someone did something.
no subject
From her reaction, it doesn't seem that Wrath told her about the mirror, which he can appreciate. He hadn't thought that Emilia had the same abilities to find out on her own, but he probably should have. Five has run across more than a few necromancers who could sense the mirror inside him the minute he walked past. Wei Wuxian suspected it, though he never confirmed what it was with him.
He could get out of the confrontation by blinking away at any moment, but instead he seems impossibly unsure of himself and how to respond. He doesn't deny the obvious, though he stops short of telling her about the memory loss. ]
Alright, so it's something. [ He scrunches his nose, willing it to stop dripping, then sighs and swipes at it again before it gets in his mouth. ] ...Why? Do you recognize it?
no subject
Not recognition, exactly. It is not magic native to my world.
... But I could pick out its pulse from the ancestral curses born of this village. It was something separate and unto itself. You've far too much magic inside you for someone who is not a witch.
( Could that explain the nose bleed? No wonder Allison is concerned. )
no subject
So I'm told. [ He hates how stuffy he sounds. How pitiful he must look. He can taste blood in the back of his throat, and attempts to clear it.
Abruptly, he decides that he's had about enough if she doesn't have anything more insightful to say. He puts on a tight smile for a villager casting an eye their way, and seems to be more in control when he looks back at her. Like that wasn't horribly disappointing. ]
Good talk. This has been helpful.