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ARRAN

To perform was to at once leave oneself bare to the world and embalm in comfort; Arran still keenly felt the loss of his dear friends but he needed to bring himself into the world. Hiding away would not better his coven and it certainly wouldn’t see them any safer or any closer to pinning down who was behind these attacks. So, he continued life as he would live it, sure to always take advantage of any and all opportunities that came his way. Seizing the moment had always been something of a talent for Arran and at times fate simply wove it’s way in his favour.

Which was why when he saw Indra waiting at the bar he was half-tempted to thank the gods his mother bent the knee too. She could be a key to many thing if his information was correct, and making a few more inroads with her could bring him closer to helping his family, to fulfilling his duty.  

“Then a fine drink it is,” Arran responded with a smile, turning his full attention to the witch which he knew could enrapture lesser beings with ease. Indra though, was very much her own sort of creature and wouldn’t be so simply won over; not that he minded, quite the contrary, a challenge could be a dual-fold distraction from his pain and a highly productive endeavour.

Both of which he sorely needed.

Her mood already seemed high, so little work to be done there. Arran sat on the barstool beside her and gestured for the bartender to serve them, “Please, order whatever you like,” he told Indra, “And thank you, I’ve had quite a few years of practice.” he added with a chuckle, “You’re looking lovely as well, I hope you haven’t gone to such efforts just to come and see me? If I’d known I’d have chosen a flashier song.” His own drink, a whiskey on the rocks, was placed before him and he elegantly lifted the glass to his lips.

   One day Indra would look back on all of these things and realize her own naivety in how she dealt with people. She would understand just how many times when she’d felt beautiful, or tended to, or even liked... how much of it had been a grab for the power that she wielded. It wasn’t even a power she had ever intended to use in the way that most people wanted her to, and yet it still was one of the most driving forces in why outsiders — she did not count Willow in that in any way, nor most of the members of her coven, but sometimes the line was blurred — went to befriend her at all.

   She would stand in front of a mirror, tracing the lines on her face as age would finally catch up with her — no one lives forever, Indy, not even witches — and trace each one with reverence to a moment in which she had her spirit broken; when she found out a friend she had made was just an enemy in disguise waiting to destroy her once she’d been used up. She’d smell the liquor in the air and hear the music trilling against her ears and she’d frown, deepening the lines of age...

   But then and now, she merely smiled at Arran, as true and brightly as any one would if they were meeting a new friend, and pushed her hair lightly behind one ear before speaking, “I am not really sure what to get here... I haven’t actually been here until you had sent out the call for your friends to show up.”

   That’s good, Indra, remind him you’re budding friends. People love to know that they are being looked after, and if you take care of people they take care of you, and it forms community and fosters better relations between all the factions and covens. You’re doing good right now, her mind piped in before her smile twitched and she turned slightly so that she could better see him on her stool, adding, “It was no trouble, either! It was nice to have a reason to go out... I had plans for the night but... she had to tend to something else.”

   Willow had her hands full, and Indra would never fault her for that. Things were happening on the other sides of lines and Indra knew too well of her best friends’ attachments therein. She would never ask anyone to forego their grief and the grief of those they loved just to keep a movie date, “I... it’s not important. What do you think I should order?”

All Along The Watchtower || Open

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   It wasn’t like her to go against the wishes of those she cared about, but truly she was trying to branch out in the name of continued peace; with everything that was going on around them, it was hard to imagine that she would be safe anywhere, let alone at the Manor, but still she stood at the bar with her hair loose and wild around her shoulders and her eyes rapt on every motion around her. The inklings of ideas that came as she people watched astounded even her sometimes, and it was the best way to get out of her supposed funk with her magic of late.

   Her dreams weren’t helping, leaving behind the ghosts of thoughts — grand schematics of ideas and processes she could easily use to better her coven and all of those around her that flitted to the corners of her memory like wisps of smoke — and nothing but annoyance and frustration in her waking hours.

   She hid it well behind her practiced smile, and even as she stood there knowing full well it was not the best place to be standing without guard or consort, she trusted Arran as much as she could with what she knew about him, and knew that — however sad the thought is, to be honest — he wouldn’t let harm come to her because she knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, she was useful to everyone if they could harness her.

   ... it kept her alive more than anyone knew.

   “A drink would be fine.” Indra offered, turning on the ball of her foot to face him; she was a damn sight less frumpy than she had been the last time they’d spoken, and truly the girl cleaned up nicely, her hair tucked and pinned just so to be wild around her shoulders but not wholly in her face. Her outfit was simple, but classy, and she had on shoes — boots, of course, but they were nice boots at least — and the smile she shined at him could melt ice, “You were really wonderful.”

All Along The Watchtower || Open

Location: The Manor Time: Evening Starter: Open to All

There must be some kind of way outta here Said the joker to the thief There’s too much confusion I can’t get no relief

No reason to get excited The thief he kindly spoke There are many here among us Who feel that life is but a joke But, uh, but you and I, we’ve been through that And this is not our fate So let us stop talkin’ falsely now The hour’s getting late, hey

All along the watchtower Princes kept the view While all the women came and went Barefoot servants, too Outside in the cold distance A wildcat did growl Two riders were approaching And the wind began to howl

Arran finished the song to a polite applause, The Manor was hardly the place to burst into wild applause, but holding the rapt attention of every patron in the dining area/bar was more than enough decoration of his skills. He sighed slightly and raised his head, looking out at the room and smiling easily, every charming. Things were as unstable as he’d ever seen them but performing was familiar, and he could do so freely here. Soon he’d be back out again, patrolling the Estate’s boundaries or perhaps even visiting whoever he felt he need to strengthen bonds with. His parents were pursuing peace and it seemed their all had an unseen enemy… or one who was willing to kill their own kind; both options were unsettling. 

He left the stage just as the head server beckoned him over and informed him he had a visitor at the bar. With an easy smile he thanked the woman and made his way to the bar, his fitted suit-trousers, blood-red shirt and black braces earning him several appreciative looks as he made the journey. 

Reaching the bar he inclined his head politely at the person waiting for him, “Well, I do love when people come to see me, but I suppose now’s hardly the time for an easy chat. Shall we have a drink before we get started?” Everything was so serious now, even the thrill of performing didn’t last as long. 

[crcator-blog]

ARRAN

An independent mind could be a very dangerous thing. There was always progress to be made by such people but they could destroy as easily as they could create, Alfred Noble found that one out the hard way. The thought of that man made him want to chuckle but he held off on the reaction to smile charmingly instead. He regarded the woman with his whole attention, eyes vigilant and engaging. People just weren’t used to another actually giving them proper attention, it could overwhelm sometimes.

He raised a leg and elegantly crossed it over another, reclining easily on her armchair as though he owned it and were seated in his own home. When she begun speaking and casting her gaze about the room, Arran listened carefully while allowing his own eyes to take in the space around them. It was far from impressive and clearly not the space she worked in; but he knew well enough people could be touchy about their inner sanctums (he didn’t bring just anyone to his music room) so he may need to wait for the invitation to come. He’d have what he wanted with time.

“Really?” he asked when she finished, resting his cheek against a curled hand, “That’s a shame. Yet, also strangely poetic. You put it beautifully. And as with all civilisations we’re the stronger for the actions of our fore-bearers.” Or rather, humans, witches and wolves were. The vampires were not so fragile as to be turned to dust by the ravages of time. The fore-bearers of his coven were still alive, his dear parents. And he would do whatever it took to ensure they remained at the helm. This was just one more plan he was willing to undertake to give his family every advantage possible. Her magic could strengthen their position so he’d just coerce her into using it, by her own volition of course.

Arran chuckled a little and looked down for a moment before raising his head again to meet her eyes. “It’s quite alright. I don’t exactly need normal drinks and I found your summation of past inventors much more interesting. Though you’ve begged the question: just how is your own craft progressing?” An innocent enough question, “I do hope the awful attacks of late haven’t rendered you inspiration-less?”  

   There was a reason that Indra lived alone, and little of it was because she was not personable. She kept in touch with the people she had to, and made sure the coven always knew exactly what she was up to, but she was prickly at best when she got deep into her magic. She did not become belligerent or abusive, but instead became so caught up in things that she would ignore the pleas of others, or even allow her usual talking to herself — a thing she honestly feels everyone does, and if they don’t, SHOULD do — get away from her. At one point a friend of the family had thought she was possessed when she was younger because of how often she’d have full conversations with herself.

   Willow was one of the only people who ever inhabited Indra’s space in a way that felt normal. To Indra’s Sun, Willow was the Moon, and vice versa depending on the needs of either of them. They existed in tandem to create light for the other and therefor the presence or one — or the other — would rarely disrupt them. Two halves to one soul and in perfect harmony; Willow was the exception, though, not the rule.

   Something about the way Arran was regarding her set off a slight alarm in her head, but she chalked it up to the way she had been taught to react to predators — which Arran was, by all accounts — and continued on through their conversation as if she were not sitting across from a large Lion who would eat her given the chance and freedom... or use her to his wills in other ways.

   “I believe the biggest issue with what’s going on is not my inspiration, but... it’s hard to gauge what’s needed right now. I create for myself all the time, but nothing that will impact or detract from the world around me in such a way as to be a nuisance...?” Indra paused, still lounging bare-footed like a house cat in one of her over-stuffed chairs, “I haven’t created anything to help this and it’s sort of weighing on me. I’m not one-hundred percent sure there’s a thing I could create that would help... and that feels even heavier in my mind.”

Just A Little Kindness || Arran & Indra

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MATTHIAS

It was strange. There were very few people in their little coven that had not been subject to the soft silences that Matthias liked to inhabit. Let words drift like thoughts might. Indra was no exception, and the man could feel her settling into it. Her smile was warm, real. It eased the dull pain in his chest, ever so slightly.

But her voice caused him to frown. “Grief isn’t…” Matthias searched for the words, eyes casting over the lake as if he could find them scattering on the breeze like snowflakes. “It’s not pissing contest, Indra. Your sadness isn’t better or worse than mine or anyone else’s.” He knew a thing or two about it, his youth a blur of red hot sadness in his memory.

Eyes snapped back to her face, as the pale hand came to graze along his jawline, eyes curious. She was toeing a line, one that Matthias knew meant more to her than it did to him. Instinctively, dark fingers rose to brush along Indra’s wrist before gently closing it in a soft grip. “I would take on your sadness, the coven’s, if you let me. If I could.”

He was already broken. Already shattered into a thousand pieces. Indra had no idea: one misplaced hand and he could hurt her and that was the last thing he wanted. He brought her hand back to her side before enveloping the woman in a hug. “This is all I need.” He said into her hair. “Just this. I’ll be… fine in a minute.”

   There was a pervasive sadness about Matthias on his best days, regardless of how hard he’d try to hide it, and the broad smile he wore for the benefit of the rest of them did little to assuage her worries to his condition. The truth was that Indra would worry for all time about the people she cared about, and though that list could be considered massive — the woman existed to try and give the benefit of the doubt until someone proved her otherwise — the ones closest to her heart were fewer and further between.

   The touch of his fingers to her hand, then along her wrist to pull it away from his face sliced through her like a blade. It wasn’t pain — not in the traditional sense, anyway — but it felt as if something far too hot had touched upon her and rose in her a feeling she had been trying to ignore for far too long. It wasn’t until his arms wrapped around her and pulled her into a hug that she felt her walls, as well as his, slide up again in something so formal, yet so intimate.

   Two people existing in a space that was, for all intents and purposes, very much free... and of souls their own seeking only to escape their confines and reach the stars, and yet they remain shackled to the earth, clawing beneath the soil in the depths of their breast... they would forever put the needs of others ahead of their own.

   Though her head dipped, forehead touching upon his shoulder and allowing her a moment to softly sigh and relax, she pulled back after a moment, freckled cheeks — somehow considered odd for her heritage but all the while wholly Indra — kissed only by sunlight as it glinted off the water and she offered her usual smile, “If this is what I can do, then it is what I will do.”

   Most people would have clarified on their earlier points; explained how they hadn’t mean to speak of grief in that way, but the misunderstanding would shape she and Matthias alike, and she did not fear failure as much as she should... an inventor rarely did.

   “Did you have plans today? I wonder since you were standing out here...?” Indra’s face turned from his own, gaze cast out across the water — rippling with both wind and shards of ice that were cracking along its surface, the hard freeze having not hit it yet — and watched as a sudden snow began to fall through the air and across its surface, “I’m not sure how much can be done, given the weather...”

Gone Fishin’ || Open

[crcator-blog]

Character Development Questionnaire// 001

How tall are you?

She is a bit taller than she seems, at nearly six feet, but because of her personality and the way she acts she somehow presents as shorter until people take a moment to gauge it.

5 things you spend the most time doing, in order.

Creation - It might seem like a no-brainer, but when Indra’s left to her own devices she’s creating little things. Never the big things, never the things that might make an impact, but the inner workings of other things. The BEGINNINGS of things. Most of her time is spent creating.

Experimentation - As above, she spend a portion of her time in experimentation, seeing the limits of her particular magic and its practical applications in other aspects of her life. While it’s easy to say omnifabrication can do anything, she likes to see just how useful it might be in the grand scheme of her life and the lives of those around her.

Self-Care - For some this is something they don’t need to have a focused time for, but as Indra often gets caught-up in her experimentation and creation so much that she forgets to eat lunch (or dinner, or anything really) she has to cordon off a block of time that is written in her daily log to actually take care of herself. It always includes a meal, sometimes a bath or some kind of other relaxation, and usually a call to a friend.

Socialization - This should be higher on the list, but Indra’s introverted, not because of being shy or anything like that — the truth is she makes friends easier than most and is a very boisterous and social person — but is introverted because of the very nature of her power. She makes an effort now to socialize with people, especially Willow for instance, to keep herself from becoming too insulated.

Inner Reflection - At the end of every day, Indra looks over what she’s done, what she’s accomplished, what she could have accomplished with better time management, and etc to figure out how her day went. It helps center her and focus her for the next day, and to take stock of what she did and reflect on her accomplishments allows her to sleep a bit easier. She doesn’t get much sleep as it is so when she can she tries to sleep as peacefully as possible.

Favorite weather and why?

Cold. She finds comfort in the freezing and never seems to really be affected by it. Whether it’s symptomatic of her dreams or whether she’s just thinking it’s a thing subconsciously because of those dreams is anyone’s guess, but she always seems perfectly fine in the cold. On the other hand, she handles extreme heat well enough but is much more miserable within it.

Favorite season(s) and why?

Fall and winter. As above she feels most at home when the air gets nippy. As much as spring features rebirth — a thing she is really and truly reborn in and attuned to — the death in fall and slumber of winter somehow make her feel revitalized in the sense that when she creates something new in those seasons it feels almost like a lifeline; her own little buoy.

Favorite comfort foods?

Chocolate chip cookies with macadamia nuts. Her grandmother used to make them — one of the few mundane things her grandmother actually enjoyed, truth be told — and they were divine. She’s still fairly certain that she made them with a touch of magic and that’s how they tasted so utterly splendid, because try as she might Indra cannot get them right and she can create A N Y T H I N G.

Are you religious/spiritual? Elaborate on this.

Spiritual. She’s more a granola eating hippy than she is a religious person. She sometimes walks barefoot into the woods — no matter the season or weather — and just spends time communing... or in some cases, being communed with. She feels attuned and peaceful when she’s with nature, and while she doesn’t see it as something organized, religious, or new-agey spiritual, she wouldn’t trade her time there for anything.

What is your greatest fear? What is your greatest desire?

Losing control. Though her power comes from creation, the idea of losing control of that (or herself) and falling into something where what she creates is wholly destructive and she can’t take that back — such as the creators of the Atom Bomb and their regret at ever having been a part of it — and that she won’t be aware of what she’s doing until it’s too late. She’s very careful on what she creates and who she trusts to guide her in that for this reason.

Creating something that makes the world infinitely better. On the flip side, and antithetical to the Atom Bomb idea, she wants to create something that improves life for everyone. Not just witches, vampires, werewolves, or humans (and any other multitude of creatures that may exist that they’ve yet to see) but everyone on a global scale. Something of such magnitude that it could greatly improve the lives of the rich and the poor alike; the weak and the strong; the evil and the good; something to improve everyone.

Describe one or more high points in your life.

When her magic manifested as creation. That would have to be the best moment of her life. She’d feared magic at one point — not because of anything she’d been taught or because it was destructive or anything like that — but just because she feared her own would be lacklustre, or would manifest as something she didn’t like. Tinkering had always been part of her fun, favoring toys that were building rather than fantasy related — though it should be mentioned she created fantasy worlds in her tinkering — and when her magic manifested to allow her to extend those thoughts outwards and start to make things on a grand scale... she was delighted, and finally, FINALLY, felt at home within her magical world.

Do you believe in love? What about love at first sight? Why/why not?

Yes, though people tell her otherwise. She’s fallen in and out of crush so many times that people think she’s flighty, but really it’s just that she likes everyone when she meets them and so she reacts to them as if they are important to her. She doesn’t see love as something secretive and coveted but something to be spread outward. She realizes romantic love is different but often confuses the two because of her own perception of the world. Everyone who comes into Indra’s life ends up being important in some way, but the varying degrees of how that expands after their first meeting is often surprising to some.

She can count on one hand the number of people she’s let into her heart wholly and truly — whom she couldn’t live without — but it doesn’t mean that there isn’t a bevy of them settled in camps around that area.

What is your biggest regret?

Not doing more with her family before she lost them. It wasn’t that she was avoidant, or that she was mad at them or anything like that. You just don’t realize how short life can be when you’re a kid — even when you’re a teenager, a young adult, or even an adult — your family seems like this sort of thing that’s untouchable. It isn’t until you start losing them that you grasp at the straws of what you had and feel regret in that you didn’t cherish them MORE in your time with them. Loss has a way of cutting us all down to size, and even if we were in a happy place — loved by and loving of our family — the loss of them makes you regret all the times you didn’t pick up the phone because you were too busy or didn’t go to a family magical outing because you were not feeling one-hundred percent...

[crcator-blog]

ARRAN

Honestly, a person would have to be ridiculously naive or outright foolish to think almost any visit from a member of one species to another was entirely without ulterior motivation; but it was a great skill of his to ease those suspicions until they were completely erased and by the end of it, he usually had whatever it was he wanted.  

In this case what he wanted may take a fair few visits to get and he’d need to be especially careful to ensure he got it; but any form of magic item could prove highly useful and he was more than willing to put in as much work as he needed to in order to get it. He only had a rather basic understanding of witchcraft but what he did know inferred the power of such artefacts could be life-saving or utterly deadly depending on how, and by whom, it was used. “Well, I think we could all use a little kindness about this time, don’t you agree? So I’m just pleased you’re pleased.”

As he walked inside Arran didn’t bother to hide his looking around and instead made it rather obvious; after all it was a new space and only natural he’d be curious, and when people saw what they expected to see they tended not to bother trying to investigate deeper. He saw the abundance of cushions and chairs that seemed almost too plush and couldn’t help but think they were tacky. But then, he’d been raised in wealth even before his parents found him. Clearly despite the power the things she could make might possess, there wasn’t too much money in it. He was about to answer he’d love a drink but before he got there Indra was off waxing lyrical about Gutenburg. The man had been an unsociable nut in Arran’s opinion but that seemed to be the prevailing characteristic of many of his kind. Luckily, Indra seemed sociable at least.

He reclined gracefully onto an armchair and smiled slightly at her, instantly at ease, “I can imagine so, humans were a great deal more suspicious of our lots back then,” a short chuckle followed, “You know, I often wonder why minds like his would think if they saw all the amazing things we made use of today.”

   Indra was not naive, but she was very much a person who believed in dancing to the beat of her own drum. Where Elders might find issue — though she was not a child herself, and would often argue that fact until she was blue in the face — with inviting someone in, especially a Vampire (and more to point, a Mordecai,) Indra found only an attempt to find out more. Experimentation is nothing without results, and you cannot get results without risking yourself. At least as far as she was concerned.

   With her delicate, bare feet kicked up and dangling over the edge of one of the arms of the chair she was sitting in, her head dipped back and spilled lengths of her ebon hair down across the upholstery and carpet below, and all at once she seemed some Bohemian art piece, a thing to be painted by a boy (or girl) in love in some century long past, “It was the fear that kept them under wraps. They still experimented, and through those experiments and our finding them I have been able to make great strides within my own craft, but fear kept them from showing the true breadth of their capabilities.”

   It was as if she were speaking to an old friend, her eyes not so much on him as dancing around the room — no doubt seeing possibilities in every nook and cranny of her own home for new inventions or ways to improve, but rarely ever going through with most of them — and through the air she drew a finger as if figuring out some complicated equation that was involved in what she had to do. It was actually much simpler underneath it all. Though magic was complicated, it required less actual science for her to craft things, but most of the time she spent hours figuring out ways to almost craft and create without magic only to finish the job magically regardless.

   Her head lolled to the side and she regarded Arran for a moment — he looked so out of place in her comfortable home with its faded upholstery and beaten wood; she imagined him much happier in a place that was sleek and modern, all chrome and black lacquer and sophistication, a thing which she understood but (at least at current) saw no use for, “I’m so sorry, I offered you a drink, didn’t I?”

Just A Little Kindness || Arran & Indra

[crcator-blog]

WILLOW

“Mmm.” Her lips pursed into a thin line, knowing exactly what Indra was talking about. It was the very reason she’d been so down in her energies today, the reason she’d walked straight into her best friend without even registering her presence there. Shaking her head, she tried to pull herself out of the empty abyss that had been sucking her further in as the day went by.

Focusing instead of the beautiful, black haired witch before her, Willow pasted on a smile. Indra was a fair bit younger than herself but still remained one of the wisest, brightest pearls in this entire town. They met by chance, and stayed by choice. Their friendship lasting the test of time in more ways than one. Sometimes, the small witch wondered if she’d even be standing here today were it not for her constant love and support.

Her smile widened at her friends words, she couldn’t help herself. Willow stepped in for another hug, she was desperate to be anything but alone right now and it had been oh so long since they’d spent any time together. “What are you doing this evening? Care to come over? I have a fresh bottle of wine waiting?” and much to discuss….

   There are, in your lifetime, a number of people you consider to be soul mates. When you’re young, it’s always boyfriends or girlfriends or the people you idolize romantically, and in your twenties and thirties, looking back on that time, it’s the friends you’d had that had helped you through all the awful — truly awful sometimes, considering — times you’d had with your purported soul mates in romance... but for Indra...

   Indra had a handful, she imagined, but none shone so bright as Willow, and since the moment they’d met they’d be a part of each other. When one was down the other would inevitably find her way to the other, and in that recharge their proverbial batteries. There was nothing too tall to climb or too far to walk as long as she were at the others’ side. It was saccharine, but true.

   She hadn’t even needed to be prompted, and in that hug with Willow she’d turned the other woman with her arm still draped around her — like lovers, almost, but something so much deeper — as she wandered down the street with her now, huddled together for a warmth that went far beyond body heat, “I’d love that, actually. I feel like the world’s gone crazy? It’s all sideways and I can’t figure out how to put it back together and that is NOTHING like me. I can usually invent a way out of any situation, and yet...”

   It was true. Indra existed to create, to invent and formulate, and still she felt adrift in the sea as the situation existed right now. There were variables she didn’t have to factor into her equations to make sense of anything. Too many variables, not enough calculable data, “... can we also have sweets? I feel like my brain is in a true sugar deficiency.���

   It wasn’t a true thing, but sugar and Willow always seemed to rejuvenate her.

Chance Encounters | Open

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NISEE

Nisee wrung her hands as she waited for her coffee to be finished. It wasn’t like she really needed caffeine–she was already jittery enough without chemical assistance, but the bittersweet taste of her favorite latte was soothing. And right now, she’d take just about any soothing thing that she could get her hands on. Her conversation with Arlynn had assuaged some of her fears about a rogue Omega, but it had only increased her worry. She had tried not to let Arlynn see that when she’d left Subtext, but Nisee was fairly certain the High Priestess missed very little.

She needed some normalcy. So she’d reached out to Indra, one of her closer friends and coven members. Reluctant to leave Ashvale, she’d suggested they grab a coffee at Clarity’s. Nisee noticed that Clarity wasn’t around and wondered if she was in the back or had opted to take a bit of a mental health day like Nisee herself had.

Nisee heard her name and went up to grab her coffee, thanking Clarity’s barista and dropping a few dollars in the tip jar. She walked over to the corner and settled in a soft armchair, wrapping her hands around the warm cup. She had a decent view of the door, so she smiled and waved when she saw Indra enter. “I’ve found us the comfy seats!” she called, then settled back down. The smile faded from her face as she waited, but she tried to keep a light expression on her face as she greeted her friend. “How is everything, Indra?” she asked.

@crcator

   The truth of the situation was that if anyone was flying right through the radar of every power that was, it was Indra. She wasn’t trying to stand out, but her particular magical affinity made her a target from every side, though rarely did they come at her with a vengeance and instead tried to ply her — to coo and woo her into helping them — so that they could protect their own. She was a bad place to go for safety, but a great place to go in the same breath.

   As she approached Nisee, she unraveled a ratty scarf from around her neck, a gift from Willow that she was rarely without and had had most of their time together, and settled herself into the overstuffed chair with said scarf wrapped around her hand rather than draped nearby. She was protective of the things that were created FOR her as much as she was protective of the things she created.

   Nisee’s voice was casual and her expression was warm — for the most part, she could see the worry tugging the corners of her friends mouth downwards, and the fact that the smiles she wore didn’t quite reach her eyes — but Indra knew something was wrong. Rather than diving right into that, she addressed the question at hand as best she could, “I’m not one-hundred percent sure what anything is right now... I have theories, but no concrete answers... I mean I’m fine, but I’m not...”

   Her voice trailed off for a moment, a finger poking through a hole in the scarf she grasped so tightly in her fist, and she lifted her eyes to find Nisee’s face, her own smile warm and genuine but again strained as much as her friends’ was, “And you? How are you? I mean really.”

Creation and Destruction | N & I

[crcator-blog]

I got nothing to lose, I got nothing to do I gotta make a move, I gotta make a move (higher)

Spent my life, spent all my life just trying to survive this fight I think about it and I cry cause I don't know why the wind blows or where it goes but I'm gonna try gonna try to find my way before it crumbles down

[crcator-blog]

MATTHIAS

The dark press of her hair on face, the blackness stark against the snow, fluttered around Indra in the breeze, as if it had a mind of its own. Matthias watched it, watched how the winter sun caused it to shine like a polished stone. Everything about the woman was articulated, refined. The world smelt of ash, but looking at Indra reminded Matt of spring.

She spoke and his dark eyes jumped to her face once more, shaking his head lightly at her words. “The wellbeing of our coven is my business.” He took a small step towards her, and another, voice dropping. His smile was sympathetic. “I tend to let my heart get the better of me, and if you did hear me calling then I hope I haven’t ruined your morning.”

Magic, especially between coven members, had ways of manifesting itself in all sorts of ways. Sensations and humours. And it was not uncommon for Matthias to trust his subconscious, following his feet into Subtext to find Elldine with a problem that needed fixing, or to Willow’s shop where a new shipment had just become available. He let these feelings rule him, dictate his actions and his choices.

“There is something coming,” Matthias agreed, watching the smooth lines of her face as she turned to face him. She seemed resolute but Matt couldn’t help feel the soft bloom of concern in his chest. “Indra, you can tell me if you’re not okay. It’s been…” His words trailed off as he he tried not to think about Malcolm. “Hard. For everyone.” His expression, then, was stark. Like he was laying bare the wounds and they were uglier, more raw in the cold light of day.

  Her face was skyward as she stared in towards nothing in the distance and allowed the wind to kick up around them, sending her hair in a flurry around her face and then behind her into the air like strips of silk. She didn’t speak for a long time, instead basking fully into his presence and the sun that beat down upon them, letting the worries of the day be kept at bay for at least a span of heartbeats.

   Then, with an exhalation, her eyes closed as she let her face lower again, and everything came to crash around them, but somehow more bearable for the warmth of her soul, and she turned again to face him and smiled warmly, “I’m not well, but I am alive and that is something to be considered, you know? I feel ridiculous sitting back and complaining about how a death is affecting me when it is much harder on others, and well harder on the one whom it hit.”

    Her teeth graze her lower lip, and for a moment, she looks hesitant, before reaching up and out to touch his jaw — the barest hint of touch, not daring go deeper than that, a fingertip grazing flesh and stubble — before smiling, “But you... you are far closer to it than I am. ... so much must be resting on you, Matti,” perhaps a nickname she didn’t use often, but was wholly for him and their benefit, “is there anything I can do to help?”

   Indra’s soul was wild and free, and in her dreams it wandered and created new worlds she had yet to touch upon, and helped fuel her magic every day with its moments of what some would consider insanity... but there, with Matthias in the sun, she felt somehow fully formed and rooted. Wild in her boughs and the ever-growing peaks of her branches, but rooted deeply and ever feeling of the things in their town. He made her feel stronger.

Gone Fishin’ || Open

[crcator-blog]

ARRAN

Seemed he surprised her, that was worth a little chuckle. He could understand the confusion given all that was happening lately but that made it all the more important that he try and show solidarity with his fellow factions. And while he was at it getting Indra onside could prove beneficial in several ways. But, all that would come later; firstly he needed to see how she would take to him.

His smile grew when she took the basket from him and he let his arms fall and link loosely behind his back, “Ah, I’m so pleased you like them, the staff assured me they’re some of their best since and I doubled checked that by snooping to see what my sister was using in her bathroom.” he confided with a small chuckle, “And if there was ever a time for a little pampering I think it’s now.”

Thing’s were going very well so far, “I would love to, that’s very kind of you.” he said with a small nod and stepped inside, “Though I hope I’m not interrupting? The few inventor’s I’ve met in the past can be voracious when it came to their works, Gutenburg lost interest in everything when an idea took him over, it made having a conversation with the man rather difficult; he was truly fascinating though.”  

   On some level, Indra probably had awareness that the whole of the conversation and drop-by were not out of altruism or the merit of discussions that could be had with her, but out of some other need; a necessity for power... but Indra, being who she was as hard as she ever was, decided to let things unfold as they would.

   She’d long ascribed to the idea that if you go into a situation expecting the worst, the worst is all you will get as you will be activating a self-fulfilling prophecy. People can disappoint you if you go in with high hopes, but at least you know it was nothing that you did in that regard. So her door was opened wide and in was a vampire — and not just any vampire but a Mordecai, and one she should likely be far more afraid of than just any other kind by merit of his lineage alone — invited to her home freely, “It really is kind of you, either way!”

   Though Indra was not a woman given to bouncing around, or flouncing, or any of the ‘ing types of motions (unless of course Willow were involved, then all bets were off) she did tend to make herself as open as possible when people visited until they gave her a reason to show her long cultivated harder side. So as she invited Arran in, she threw pillows out of the way on a few of the old, over-stuffed chairs that littered her parlor and offered, almost too kindly to be real, “Would you like something to drink? Oh!” and name-dropping inventors got her smile to brighten, “Gutenberg had a line to the magical as well, as far as I’m concerned. I’ve never been able to prove it, because most of the times those with magical lineage kept it far more under wraps but I still believe!”

   Almost instantly she seems to have forgotten her offer to give him a drink, instead having fallen into one of the chairs, kicking her feet up over the arm and settling into conversation with Arran as if he were an old friend.

Just A Little Kindness || Arran & Indra

[crcator-blog]

Kindness. It wasn’t so much that it was a rarity for Indra, as she was surrounded by people who nurtured and cared for her, but in return any kindness she was met with was returned — seeded, watered, and given to the atmosphere — in hopes of spreading the notion into a world that was, for lack of a better term, withering at current.

Indra was aware of what existed in their town, both on its surface and beneath its seedier belly, but saw the world as something to be shaped and made better; again, nurturing was in her nature and as she was wild at heart the idea that something should be kept as it is instead of being let to grow felt somehow off. She was, however, stubborn and often met most problems with the audacity of a bull; nothing was unsolvable.

The sound of rapping on her door pulled her up from the couch where she’d been resting — there was grease and soot on her fingers from whatever project she’d been working prior to her reflective rest, but not so much as to cause any issue — and moved to pull the door wide open with no regard to the idea that there was literally a murderer — or several, if one wanted to be generous — on the loose, “Y-- oh!”

Yes, she knew who the Mordecai’s were, but she was less inclined to hearken to people telling her to be safe and be aware, to keep herself hidden away and treat them as the vampires they were; Arran was making an effort, and so she smiled as he finished, reaching out to carefully take the package that was likely too beautiful for her marred hands, “This is really lovely, thank you! I do love a good pampering... at least every now and again.”

And, in complete disregard to everything she’d ever been taught or warned about, offered without so much as a notion of irony or worry, “Would you like to come in for a bit? I hate to think of you coming all this way just to deliver a gift and being sent away.”

Just A Little Kindness || Arran & Indra

@crcator

He was making his rounds with the witches; Nisee, Matthias, Elldine. Next it seemed Indra was on his list and Arran knew a little more of her which made her very interesting to him. She was an inventor (a respectable enough profession) but when magic was added to the mix; well… the overall effects could be at once glorious and catastrophic. Vampire’s were superior but he was not so foolish as to discount the power of magic.

So it was in his best interest to be as charming with Ms Bartlett as possible; and who knew, perhaps he could make a very profitable ally out of her with the right prompting. Arran had dressed in his usual winter garb, a quilted coat, coloured a deep green this time, with matching mittens and a bobble hat, which he took off as he stood outside her place of residence. All he’d needed to day was charm the location out of a fellow witch (kindness could go a very long way). He adjusted the small package he was carrying, a gift set of soothing bathing accoutrements he’d purchased from Nectar; being a regular at the spa was useful in acquiring such things, and knocked on the door.

Once she answered Arran smiled kindly and nodded his head, “Ms Bartlett, I’m sorry to disturb you, it’s just I wanted to make sure you were well; with all the awful things that have happened lately. So I thought a friendly chat and perhaps some of Nectar’s finest lotions and potions,” he chuckled at the witch-related pun, “Might be just what’s needed.”

[crcator-blog]

WILLOW

“Indra!” Her best friends name flew past her lips before she could catch it. Her mind hadn’t even registered her mishap, she just knew by touch that the arms around her belonged to the younger witch and she felt her mood suddenly lifted. 

“I didn’t see you, either. I’m so sorry, I was lost on my own little planet and not paying attention.” Without missing a beat, she stepped in to the warm embrace, hugging the other witch like her life depended on it. “Oh how I’ve missed you!” It felt like life had really taken it’s toll on them both, had been far too long since they’d seen each other.

“What are you doing here?”

Soul mates came in many different shapes and forms, and truly it was hard to dictate which souls would find one another in the spans of decades that people tended to exist; one could argue that if each soul is reborn and finds it match eventually that you could have multiple soul mates as each soul splits off and forms new life. We could all be borne of the same soul and all be destined to love one another.

Indra knew, on a level beyond the spoken or even thoughtful, that Willow was her soul mate. Perhaps not romance, perhaps not in the sense of all ending, world shattering love... but in some ways the most important love in her life. They understood each other on a level that was both spoken and unspoken — both intentional and unintentional — and in that they had found their other half.

The could have been twins, had they not looked so different and had such a (however slight or massive) difference in age, but the way they moved with one another, like a flow of water down a stream, was undeniable.

There was a twirl of their bodies that brought them both perfectly standing on their own, and yet Indra’s hand still lingered near the bicep of her friend, as if touching her somehow grounded Indra in a way that she needed with all that had been happening, and as Willow stepped forward and into her fully, she gave a smile that could have lit the world from one hemisphere to the other, “I missed you too! So much has happened! So much WILL happen — that’s a bit more your wheelhouse than mine but I can feel it in my bones, Wills!”

It was hard to answer why she was there, but Willow knew that when she got antsy she tended to wander, hoping her body would lead her somewhere with answers — though lately that was mostly in her dreams and nightmares, and the answers were not welcome or clear — and so she just gave a tiny shrug and had the good sense to look sheepish, “I guess looking for you? I wandered and it led me to you...”

Soul mates...

Chance Encounters | Open

[crcator-blog]

MATTHIAS

“Not disturbing,” Matthias said instinctively as his eyes fell to look at the approaching figure. Indra Bartlett was devastating. From her wilful gaze to her intricate, magisterial magic, she was the sort of witch that Matthias could see had worked hard at her talents. He could trust her, he had decided, almost the moment he met her. He he wanted her near him. But… not too close, Matthias reminded himself, as he felt a small grin spreading onto his mouth despite the pain in his chest. She was keen, could sense it in her.

“Maybe I was calling to you.” He said, humour making his tone warm. She liked him. Matt had to fight down the urge to blush at the thought, fight down the urge to run. It was one thing to have sex with a willing partner, easy and instinctive, but if she did like him… Indra didn’t know what she was signing up for. He couldn’t do that to her when she deserved better.

Turning to face her fully, Matti watched her, trying to gauge her emotional state. He hadn’t seen her since the funeral. As a native to Roseville, she had known Malcolm for much longer than Matthias had. Could only guess at their closeness. Hands slipped into his pockets, tilted his head. “How are you, Indra?”

It was an obnoxious question, one the man had grown to hate but the sentiment behind it was true. He wanted to know how she was coping.

Though he was joking with his words, and Indra knew that on some subconscious level, she could not help that a blush rose from her neck and to her cheeks, having the good grace to look away to the water for a moment and let her thick hair call across her face as she watched the surface ripple and reflect the water. She wasn’t sure why she’d been so drawn to Matthias; it could be argued his own power had held a sort of fascination to her, but it was something more with him and she felt indelibly attracted to him.. as if by some magnetic force.

“Perhaps you were. Though I truly doubt that, you have much more important things to handle.” Indra offered after a moment of composing herself, still staring out at the water as her hair was caught up in a breeze, blowing back across her shoulders.

She was, without a doubt, in very deep crush with the man who stood near her, but still her posture was nothing if not statuesque. She had humility and kindness in her that most with her measure of power could not hope at, not yet having succumbed to the allure of force and prestige could hold over people. No, she was not in any way vain or overconfident in herself, and yet still prideful enough in her being at its core to stand with her shoulders back and with a regal posture that almost rivaled that of Amory Mordecai’s.

“I’m fine, I think. As much as one can be with all that has happened. It feels as if there is something new coming. It threatens to ripple out across all of us.” Indra says, finally turning towards Matthias again to face him — it was only polite when one speaks to you directly — and she gives him a warm smile, “I am sure we will find a way to protect each other as a whole, but it’s still a bit.. daunting?”

Gone Fishin’ || Open

[crcator-blog]

WILLOW

As the chime above her shop’s door rang for the final time that day, Willow turned the key to lock the antique handle in place. Covering it, she uttered soft words magically sealing the exterior before stepping away from the Weeping Willow and beginning her walk home. There were other more effective means of travel but her apartment wasn’t far away and after a long day, nothing helped to clear the little witchlings head more than fresh air and some time away from people. Especially now.

The town was growing increasingly more unsettled with each passing day, and as it did, it affected Willow more and more. At times, when her energy was low, she struggled to block out the emotions of the world and when tragedy struck, it was crippling. Which is probably why she missed the stranger entirely, noticing them only as her body walked straight into their solid mass…

To be missed, in any way, by Willow felt somehow odd. She hadn’t necessarily been walking to find her friend—the only friend she truly felt she belonged with, regardless of how lovely everyone was—but somehow, as it always seemed to be, she ended up in a collision course with her before she realized what was happening.

As if on cue, Indra’s arms swung out and around the brunette that collided with her, bracing them both and keeping them from falling; whether with magic or just her own sense of balance, she had reacted as she always did when she and Willow found themselves in trouble: saving each other.

“Oh, Wills! I didn’t see you!” Indra, always seemingly willing to take the whole blame for what had just happened, smiled broadly at Willow and threw her arms around her for another reason, “I missed you, though! It feels like since everything started we’ve just been so fraught with other things we haven’t had much time...”

A true tragedy, if you were to ask Indra’s opinion on the matter!

Chance Encounters | Open