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Post by Rena Brighteyes on Feb 9, 2024 13:18:17 GMT -5
Rena hums softly, tailfeathers flicking and feathers ruffling as her silver eyes glance around, taking in the details of the streets, the people, the crowds...she's still hungry, still cold, but...it's manageable. It's better, just from being with her husband, her children, her family. Sure, she's the reason her husband and half her children died, but...she managed to conjure Tolling Bell's spirit and animate a shell of bones for little Loci to possess, and they forgive her. Stars, that's a strange feeling, knowing that her husband forgives her for killing and eating him...yes, she hadn't been in her right mind, driven to madness by starvation and her curse, but...it's still hard for her to forgive herself for what she did.
She's broken from her reverie by a man approaching, his muddy eyes hard and angry as he glares at the crow and her family, face twisting up in disgust as his eyes settle on Loci's skeletal form, "...fuckin' undead freak. shoulda stayed in yer grave where ye belong..." with that, the man unsheathes a blade to swing at the skeletal crow-boy, who seems...distinctly unconcerned by this. The reason for Loci's lack of concern is revealed, as the belligerent fool promptly sprouts four black-ice coated bayonets from the back, Rena smiling brightly as her cold, bone white eyes bore into the back of the man's skull, little circles of frostbite forming around the frozen blades, "...that's not your call t'make, my friend. What my son does with the second chance I gave him is none of your business, but I'm more'n 'appy t'put you out of everyone's misery if'n ye feel like pushin'"
Tolling Bell glares down at the stranger, the wraith's amber eyes burning with malice as he places a dull-taloned foot on the man's back to hold him down, careful to restrain his aura to allow him to continue physically interacting as he hisses, "...a slow death would be a mercy ye dinnae deserve"
Distant Whistle smiles brightly, seemingly unconcerned by the display of violence from her parents, spinning one of her own bayonets in her fingers, watching the man with hard scarlet eyes as though daring him to get up so she can join in the fun.
Buzzing Locusts chuckles softly, emerald eyelights shining brightly as he turns his gaze to his family's surroundings. he begins to rattle a little as a guard approaches with a glower on her face, the skeletal crow letting out a sharp whistle that spurs his family to scatter to the winds, Rena darting off in one direction while Bell takes to the skies and Whistle darts off into the network of alleys, the skeleton himself scrambling up a nearby building and darting across the rooftops toward the spot where they'd agreed to regroup if something like this happened.
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Post by Lady Kamille Verlithax on Feb 19, 2024 10:14:46 GMT -5
Family.
Blood is thicker than water, they would say. Yet it was her own flesh and blood that wrapped his hands around her neck - it was her own blood that schemed against her life on multiple occasions.
One could not escape blood so easily, however. No matter how many times she had her misunderstandings with Étienne, it was the one person who reached out in times of need, even beyond the veil. One would find a ghost a rare sight in most scenarios, but not beside the Witch of Moonglade, who was known for walking alongside all kinds of creatures. And Étienne was just shameless enough to easily wiggle his way in the hearts of people, talkative and helpful as he was. Being by the Witch's side only vouched for him. People trusted him.
People trusted her.
While the similarities between the Witch and the ghost were not imediately clear - one would have to provoke them to have a taste of their identical pettyness and drama - this couldn’t be said of the boy who held her hand. People assumed they had to be related. The same black hair, the same deep blue eyes. It didn’t help that she gave him similar clothes, with black feathers in the details. Maybe she would give him a cloak made entirely of black feathers one day, just like hers. He seemed to like the idea.
"You're not afraid of him, are you?"
Her whisper seemed to wake the boy from deep thought, as he watched the ghost of Étienne talk to a lady, a couple yards away. He'd been more quiet than usual in the presence of Étienne, and while she could assume he was afraid, it felt like that was not the case.
"......uhm.... I guess not. It's... it's just... I never saw a ghost like him before......"
"I was terribly afraid of ghosts, you know. It was-"
"Boss. You might wanna see this."
Edgar watched in the distance, and still his voice echoed in her head, as the Black Quill spoke touching the black feather on his chest [1]. He made a gesture with his head, indicating another street to the side, from which the noises of struggle started to rise.
Another voice echoed in her mind, one she recognized to be Allan's, another Black Quill, one that was out of sight as of now.[2,3]
"Heh... You definitely need to see this, boss. Remember that dumbass from the docks, yesterday? Trying to pick a fight? Looks like he picked the wrong fight. Again." [1]
The boy that accompanied her looked alarmed when she walked faster towards the scene, pulling him by the hand. Her Crows exchanged a few more words to describe the scene that unraveled before her, and even so she wouldn’t be prepared to that. Not to the slaughter and bloodshed, but instead...
Oh. My.
A crow person. A tiny crow person, with cute, glossy black feathers and talons and -
Fish had thought of her as a sucker before, and they were absolutely right. The Witch had a special place in her heart for monsters, beasts and crows and ravens. No wonder the momma crow and her hatchlings would imediatelly have her heart melt. When Étienne caught up to her, he was utterly confused. He just stopped a moment to talk, and next thing he knew the Witch was already found in a bloody crime scene!
"How dya get yerself into these t'ings, woman!"
Everything happened so fast, she didn’t even gave herself the time to explain to the ghost, who just took the scene at face value. Her decisions were made just as quick.
The guard approached, furious, and she threw herself in the act.
"THANK THE GODS, MR. GUARD! I was going to call you! It was almost too late! This ruffian tried to harm this lovely one! Look! He is a troublemaker, I know him! Tried to pull his sword at me at the docks yesterday! Thankfully I always have my bodyguards nearby..."
If she learned something from Morrigan, it was to make a scene. And despite not knowing exactly what was going on, Étienne promptly entered the stage without missing a beat, as if he was born for it, hitting the ground with his ghostly cane and then waving it in the guards's face.
"Yer lazy lout! If the girl didn’t know how ta defend yerself, tis would be on ya! What were ya doin'?! Tis could be an innocent's death on yer shoulders!"
While the ghost nagged at a very confused guard, all his rage traded for a stuttering mess, the Witch found a second to lock eyes with the mother crow. Deep sapphire eyes glinted with excitement when she playfully blinked to her.
If she wanted a moment to escape the guards, that would be her best chance.
[1]Nevermore [2]Invisibility [3]Silent step
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Post by Rena Brighteyes on Feb 19, 2024 18:15:41 GMT -5
Rena blinks, the feathers around her beak ruffling in a manner akin to a smile as she and her family all dart away in different directions. She’ll have to track down that lady…she seems familiar, almost like - ah, right. The Moonglade Witch. That…that could be trouble. The Witch has…a similar reputation to what The Hag had, back in The Valley, though there are fewer stories of deals going sour…though that could be due to a lack of survivors of such…the crow shakes her head as she begins diving toward the rendezvous point, her husband trailing smoke beside her as they streak down toward the chosen point at the edge of the city, the living crow’s wings flaring out to brake as she comes in for a landing.
It’s several minutes before Whistle and Loci make it, the live twin panting a little while the undead sibling literally rattles with nerves, the emerald rings in his shadowed sockets fuzzed with anxiety as he glances around before tackling his mom into a hug. Rena just trills softly, the feathers on her face ruffling in the manner of a smile as she holds her son close, “...hey, hey, ‘s alright Loci…I’ve got you. ‘M not gonna let them get you. Anyone that tries’ll end up like that man back there,” she murmurs, scooping Loci into her arms and nuzzling him, silver eyes shining as she holds her son close.
Loci, for his part, nestles happily into his mother’s arms, chirping and trilling as he calms, bones stilling and eyelights both sharpening back into focus and flickering into flat lines across his sockets, “...I-I know, m-mom…j-just…wish p-people wo-would stop co-coming a-after us…” the little skeleton mumbles, settling a little more firmly into his mother’s arms as he hums, the frozen egg floating in his chest slowly rotating as he relaxes into the heat his mother gives off. This…isn’t the first time his mother has killed someone for trying to kill him. He likes to think he’s gotten used to it, but…sometimes, like now, it hits him that people want him dead, want to put him back into the frozen hell of his egg, just because of what his mother had to do to get him out.
Whistle recovers quickly, giggling as her father scoops her up into his ghostly arms and shifting a little to sheathe her bayonets as she nestles into Bell’s arms. Her ruby eyes drift shut as she settles in, feathers ruffled in the manner of a contented smile as she chirps softly.
…meanwhile, back where they’d scattered, the guardsman is trying to recover his wits, stammering things about how the crow-woman had just murdered an upstanding citizen in broad daylight for no apparent reason, completely disregarding the fact that the ‘victim’ in this case had begun an attempt to kill what could only have been a child, undead or not. And the murder weapons - a set of four long, slender, peculiar blades coated in a razor sharp layer of blackened and enchanted ice - are still stuck in the corpse’s back, rings of frostbitten flesh slowly expanding from the impact points…
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Post by Lady Kamille Verlithax on Mar 18, 2024 4:23:07 GMT -5
The Witch and the ghost apparently make a good job at confusing the approaching guard, spinning a story about how an innocent mother was protecting her children. And while they were at it, dramatically yelling and finger-pointing at the poor guard, Kamille made a gesture, and one of her Crows swiftly came in and took the blades out of the victim's corpse. Like a shadow, in and out before anyone else could notice.
Hektor is the first to wander off, his eyes following the trail of smoke that one of the crow people left. Since he'd been under the Witch's care, he learned to expect the unexpected, and that certainly wasn't the first instance of necromancy he had witnessed. He knew his Master to have a lot of friends that were necromancers, but he wasn't able to see it so up and close as of yet.
It was... fascinating.
When he found the point where all the crows gathered, he couldn't help but realize he didn't think through about the situation. He stood there when he found them, like a deer in headlights, without knowing what to do. Hektor didn't look much older than ten or twelve, dressed in a simple attire that had some resemblance to the Witch's.
An apprentice.
"Uhhhhhh...... Hello...?"
As the crime scene seemed to cool down, Kamille was able to slip away when she noticed Hektor's absense, being guided by her Quills about his directions. With her bodyguards around, she didn't fear much for his safety, but she was also curious about the family of crow people, if she was honest. And just as she expected, the search for her little apprentice got her to them as well. She made a gesture, and one of the Quills placed the blades they got from the corpse in her hands. The Witch smiled brightly at them, not a hint of maliciousness in her posture.
"Is everyone okay? You left these back there. Here."
The Witch showed the blades that were collected from the body. Mr. Étienne was probably still with the guard, giving him an earful.
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Post by Rena Brighteyes on Mar 22, 2024 22:31:22 GMT -5
Rena tilts her head like the crow she is, silver eyes glinting in the light of the sun as she turns to regard the Witch’s apprentice, a soft puff of frozen mist accompanying a quiet trill as she gently squeezes her skeletal son in her arms, “...eijh’anahr.1 I…ye’re with the Witch, yes?” her feathers ruffle a little, a pair of icy chains peeking from a side pocket of the satchel on her hip as she stares Hektor down. Those silver eyes of hers flick away to focus on movement behind the apprentice, zeroing in on Kamille’s approaching form, “...and ye’re the Witch o’ Moonglade, if’n the stories are t’be believed,” the crow trills softly, glancing from the frost coated bayonets to the woman holding them, “...very kind o’ ye t’ return me blades like that, but I assure ye t’was unneeded,” the feathers around her beak ruffling in an avian smile as she spares a moment to set her son on his feet before starlight pulses between the onyx scales of each forearm, the light traveling down to her palms…and then pouring free of the crow’s flesh and rippling across the shapes of a pair of long, slender bayonets. As the rippling waves of light form into the shape of a pair of blades, two of the bayonets in Kamille’s hand begin to dissolve into motes of that same light…and then they’re gone, two identically black-frosted blades having formed in Rena’s hands. She slips one up each sleeve, then repeats the process for the next two. Once she’s done, she returns her focus to the Witch who stands before her, “...I’m sure ye wouldnae do somethin’ like switchin’ me blades fer sommat what’s trapped…but I dinnae actually know that, an’ we’re a bit leery o’ trustin’ those with reputations like yours”
Bell tilts his head, smoldering amber eyes taking in every little detail that he can of the woman, the Witch who stands before them. The embers littering his ragged, spectral feathers pulse in time with what was once his heartbeat as he trills softly, “...we mean no offense, but…we’ve had dealings with someone back in the Valley of Crows who was spoken of in similar tones to how people here speak your name…her dealings ended in an unending snowstorm which we’re all fortunate was too weak to escape the confines of the Valley…”
Loci trills softly, emerald eye lights glinting as he examines Kamille…he takes in every detail he can, making note of the apparent favor toward crow feathers…then he lets out a very specific, almost teasing or taunting chirp toward his parents…and then Whistle smacks him across the back of the head with a soft, chiding hiss, both children seemingly oblivious to the way both Bell’s and Rena’s feathers ruffle in…embarrassment, both adult crows letting out rapidfire flurries of chirps, trills, and odd rattling sounds toward the skeleton, who replies in kind. Almost like…they’re arguing?
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Post by Lady Kamille Verlithax on Apr 17, 2024 8:44:39 GMT -5
Kamille couldn't help but find endearing how they seemed to be communicating with each other - it was clear the woman was enamored with the family of crows. For a moment she almost forgot her manners and to introduce herself, but when the matriarch of the group seemed to identify her, she came to her senses.
She offered a curtsy, one would see at a Court rather than in a dark alleyway.
"Why, yes! I'm the Witch of Moonglade, but you can call me Kamille."
For a moment she eyed the small boy with her, a heavy glance with the raise of an eyebrow. The boy seemed to understand a second too late what was expected of him, and so he quickly presented a stiff and fast bow, untrained and crude, but still a gesture of respect.
"I'm Hektor... Apprentice Hektor."
The display of magic from the crow mother seemed to bring a renewed light of interest in the Witch's eyes. A glint of both curiosity and expertise, of recognition. Surely, if the fame of the woman was true, all matters of the arcane were of her interest - and by her reaction that bit seemed to be accurate.
There was a healthy amount of distrust... Maybe more than just that. But as far as she could notice, at a first glance, in the couple minutes she came to know the family, she couldn't possibly hold it against them. The Witch herself was most likely exactly all the rumors made out of her - except the rumors that she'd be a hag. Not a hag, but a beautiful woman with her elven heritage marking the elegant features of her face. Her cloak was entirely made of black feathers, and a pin of a black feather rested on her chest. Her gloves had black talons stitched to them, a couple fancy rings with large gemstones visible. The boy Hecktor complimented her looks in a very similar fashion, if only a bit more simple. No wonder she was referred to as Mother Raven.
"I won't hold your caution against you. You have a beautiful family to protect."
It looked like not even the bony Loci seemed to startle her. Certainly an arcane user of her name would've seen more than a few instances of necromancy. If being close to a necromancer lord wouldn't teach her anything less...
"I'm sorry that your past experiences with people like me weren't kind... I will not impose. Though I do believe, if you allow me, there are ways of handling threats that will keep your family safer in the long run..."
Felt like a reminder, that despite their distrust of her, she helped them untangle themselves from the mess with the guard back there.
A soft flutter of wings announced the arrival of yet another black bird. This time, an actual raven, that promptly landed on the Witch's shoulder as she was too busy holding up a squeal as the crows looked like they were arguing. It became evident the raven quickly grew jealous of the attention the family of crows got from the woman, as he started to peck at her pointy ears and her shinning earpiece.
"CAWWW! Shinny? CAWWWW!"
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Post by Rena Brighteyes on Apr 17, 2024 15:12:30 GMT -5
The crows continue their argument of chirps, trills, whistles and rattling calls, the adults with ruffled feathers and the children more than a little amused as they debate. Silver irises find themselves rimmed by a rosy hue as Rena finds herself backed into a metaphorical corner - and then, of course, her husband makes the decision that much harder by stating with a simple trill and a peck at the pair of rings tied into the feathers on one side of Rena’s head that he’ll stand with her regardless of her decision.
Whistle breaks away from the argument with a trill of amusement - she’s never really cared about that sort of thing, more happy that her parents are happy than anything else. Regardless, she glances back and tilts her head as she spies the raven harassing Kamille. The little crow blinks shining, sparkling ruby eyes, “...I rather think she’s attached t’that one, Mischief”
Loci turns away from his parents with a laugh and a parting series of chirps and whistles, emerald eye lights dancing with amusement as he trills happily. Truth be told, he doesn’t particularly care either. How his parents move forward is up to them. But, well, he wouldn’t mind more family…Big Sis Elvie is wonderful, so another addition wouldn’t go amiss…in his mind, at least. As the little skeleton turns, the sunlight glints off his carefully polished, snow white bones.
Rena breathes a sigh of relief as her children break away from the argument. She…as much as she wants, as much as the hungry, needful thing in her heart desires, she can’t just…blindly pursue that. And the feathers this Witch is wearing is not making that easier, her hindbrain registering Kamille as less danger and more pretty crow with each passing moment. She can tell that Bell is having much the same problem, and for once she’s grateful for the jealous thing in her heart, because the impulse of mine mine mine is stronger than the impulse of want.
The crow shakes her head to clear it, refocusing and spotting the raven perched on the Witch’s shoulder. She’s heard of this bird as well. Mischief, she thinks. A well-earned name. ah…Kamille had spoken to her, hadn’t she? A quick perusal of her most recent memories, and - “...I think that would be rather helpful, yes. Long term safety is generally better than short term. Less work overall, that much is certain…”
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