Forty-third Spell

[courageous_wit]

I like it when things are like this... Not the cold and snow, of course, but the peace. When we're allowed time to just go day by day living as normally as we can separated from our worlds. I wish it could be this way all the time, that we didn't have to worry that the castle would thrust us into some horrible world on a whim.

When it's like this, I find that I enjoy my life here. Is that a strange thing to say?

045 spells cast

[kungfuwitch]

[Phoebe sighs softly as she looks out the window at the SNOW.]

Today is the first day of spring - the Equinox. Even though it doesn't feel like it. It's a day to celebrate growth and rebirth. The fact that the sun is shining for a little longer each day and warming everything up so the plants can grow again.

[She smiles, picking up her journal] It's also the day I celebrate Ostara. I think I'm going to paint a few eggs in the kitchen today if anyone would like to join me.

( bunnymund )

[With that she'll head down to the kitchen. If anyone chooses to join her she'll have a nice setup of paints, dyes and crayons to color the hard boiled eggs she's prepared.

She's also lit a couple of small green candles by a vase full of flowers she bought from the florist in town. They may not be freshly picked but the thought is still there.]

(no subject)

[unnaturalpause]

The pies were a bit over the top, but considering the holiday it was understandable. Even if some of you were otherwise acting as I would expect you too from the modern age. [He sounds more irritated then he does anything else as he talks.] Honestly if I wanted to wear a pie I'm sure the castle would happily oblige.

Well after it's finished trying to force me into updating my food choices to the twenty first century! [For anyone in the theater, he actually did just yell at the ceiling.] It was bad enough when my staff brought those things into the building, but at least there I was able to eat what I wanted, not be forced into eating or drinking things I'm rather certain are the reason for the decline in manners and such for the young.

At least this time that I'm locked away somewhere with people there's no one standing over me five seconds away from murdering all of us because we irritated him. [Okay so maybe irritation should be replaced with out right frustrated and angry at this entire ordeal.] Not that he'd be the most helpful, he couldn't even get us out of here.

[But then he sighs and gets some semblance of control over his voice.]

If someone wouldn't mind looking in on my animals, I'd appreciate it. It appears as though it may be a while before I'm going to be able to do so on my own.

biting words like a wolf howling

[scinlae]

[ She should have expected it sooner or later, but she didn't. She sat hopeful like she has done many times before. She deluded herself into thinking perhaps this time it will not end the same.

Yet it always does, no matter what it always ends the same.

Opening the journal isn't hard, the movement is too automatic for her liking, too easy, but she does it regardless staring at the page with an expression easily described as blank. That is how she feels isn't it? Blank? Numb? She envies Morgana Pendragon, the high priestess hell bent on reclaiming her throne, she envies her for the stone she put in place of her heart.

(and she loathes her brother, she loathes her sweet knight, she loathes Paradisa itself for taking the stone away ─ for returning to her her heart)

Morgana Pendragon would not care, Morgana Pendragon would not even bother with this. She would laugh at her and call her weak ─ ]

For those who know Damon Salvatore and Katherine Pierce; they have been released from the castle's care and return to their world, and whatever awaits for them there.

[ Her voice is stone, she thinks proudly, it is cold and emotionless. As if she had done this before, as if she had not lost anything at all. She is pleased and leaves it at that, standing in the empty hall with the ghost of a smile upon her lips. ]

[2]

[savethedarkness]

[settling in isn't the right word for what M has been doing. more like coping. everything is still as bizarre for her as it was when she arrived.... maybe even more so. realizing that everyone she'd spoken to thus far was at least telling what they felt to be the honest truth didn't exactly make her feel better. on the contrary, it made her feel worse. either there was something she was missing, a clue to some drug or process they had all undergone, or she really was in another dimension with something irretrievably lost, and no way home. she didn't want to think on which was worse.

she had spent much of her first few days resting, writing in the journal rather than speaking, as her body knitted itself back together and her fatigue waned. Carson had already checked in on her, regularly, and slowly the clinic was becoming familiar to her. finally, she felt fine enough to try looking around on her own, even if she wasn't sure if she was technically cleared to do so.

so, this fine evening, residents will find her anywhere on the second or first floors, making a tentative exploration of her own. she'll end up in the kitchen though, in robe and slippers, staring in perplexion into a dark blue mug]

I don't understand. It's not as though this was meant to be difficult.

[she glances over to see her journal merrily transcribing away].... And I know I left this damn thing back at the clinic. What in God's name...

Twenty Four Truffula Trees

[whichwayyoulean]

[Ted Wiggins]

You haven't bothered me for like...three whole days, so I'm guessing something's probably wrong. Because it's you, I feel I legitimately have to ask you if you're one of these things. Circle one or more if you can't speak:

DEAD / INJURED / LOST / TRAPPED / KIDNAPPED / OTHER

If I don't get an answer in an hour, I'm coming looking for you.

[Then, later, when he's learned exactly where Ted actually is, he'll dictate into his journal]

[Away FROM Ted Wiggins]

So here's a question for you all. How ethical would you say it is to put a tracking device on a kid's ankle without his direct consent?

Would the morality of it change at all if I point out the kid in question actually actively gets himself into dangerous situations?

Puzzle 009

[tapshoetomove]

[The thing about being an eleven-year-old boy and being whisked away to a magic castle is that it's all fun and games until you start feeling a little homesick. Luke didn't realize just how homesick he was until he started thinking about Easter, and how about this time of year he'd be spending it with his mother painting eggs.

It didn't really sink in over Christmas, since he was still pretty new, but now that he was settled in? He really missed his mum.

There's some mumbling over the journal, before Luke speaks. For a kid talking about the holidays, he doesn't sound terribly enthusiastic about it.]

So does this place doing anything special for Easter? Egg hunts or anything like that? I thought about painting some eggs this year, but...er, maybe not.

Second shot

[last_rat_standing]

[Bond has been spending the days since he'd arrived making his way through every floor and tower of the castle, learning the layout and any secrets he could find. Some things, like the so-called "Seasons Room" defied explanation but a castle is still a castle, "magic" aside.

He spent the last few hours walking the streets of the village. He didn't enter any of the shops but it was enough to get a feel for the lay of the land. Now that he had an idea where everything was he was sat in the one place he feels comfortable...

In the bar. He's been sitting at the bar sipping martinis for the past hour, casually watching the comings and goings of any other patrons as he thinks about his current situation.]


((OOC: open for action in Caritas.))

[009] the taller they stand, the harder they fall

[commandsthewind]

[ Elizabeth writes, and they are words of days worth of broken sleep, deep cups of wine and hours upon hours of thought. Of staring through windows into the depths of winter and seeing a withered, lonely, bitter woman in distorted reflection. All of this, in the end, is directed at her mother. Even the memory of her mother's words makes her hand shake. ]

I am bounded to endure, would that be but enough to redeem the blood I have spilled. One day, they will understand what I have done. Let the pages of history reflect the truth of actions we cannot comprehend in life. 

[ Pray God, please make her people prosper. (there was so utterly little left to hope for). ]

[/]

( merlin; )

( lucrezia;  )