Witches Hour (prp with Salt.)

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Witches Hour (prp with Salt.)

Post  Rotten on Fri Dec 05, 2014 2:30 am

"The Devil gave a sudden leap
And Struck Miss Squill all of a heap."


"He swooped her up from off the ground
And twirled her madly round and round."

"That night she saw when she undressed
His mark was burned upon her breast."


"Next day flew in her open door
A creature named Beelphazoar."

"It brought a recipe for fudge
Of pounded pencil-stubs and sludge."

"Also a book called Ninety-two
Entirely Evil Things To Do."

"She cindered toast and rotted silk
Corroded tin and curdled milk."

"Her laugh made beetles swoon: her frown
Made geese and cows turn upside down."

"She did her neighbours' forms in wax
And stuck them full of pins and tacks."

"They then expired with frightful pains
Inside their bowels, lungs and brains."

"She got from somewhere stones with eyes
And plants that gave out screams and sighs."

"But then the demon, much too soon
Returned one Sunday afternoon."

"He seized her hair and with his hoof
He kicked a way out through the roof."

"The end had come, and this was it:
He dropped her in the Flaming Pit..."


-The Disrespectful Summonings, by Edward Gorey
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Re: Witches Hour (prp with Salt.)

Post  Rotten on Fri Dec 05, 2014 2:32 am

The Story

This is an rp that goes back many years ago when people strongly believed in spirits and such. This is about a girl who meets a witch, or warlock as some of you people may call a male witch (even though the name witch applies to both genders //cough//). The girl is charmed by him and his odd nature. However, she is the priest's daughter and this man was what all would call a sinner. Interacting with him would go against everything she believed. Yet he visits her each night and soon she can't help but fall for him, even though she slightly suspects that he's using her. Or maybe the girl truly doesn't know. Soon he takes her away and introduces her to a world she never knew. One that some would call the den of evil. An underground city with all fears from fairy tales, vampires, kelpies, boogymen, werewolves, etc. The two get married there right away(ironically enough), and now she must find how to make a living in this new world. Will she try to find a job here, start a business, learn to be a monster hunter, or even go out to the world above and have a daily life there as a priestess or something. Either way she must find herself and try to adapt to being the wife of a witch. One who seems to be using her and playing mind games that are slowly draining her sanity. Will she lose herself to darkness, or find a balance?
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Ada

Post  Rotten on Fri Dec 05, 2014 2:55 am


Someone wrote:
wip


♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥
Ada
♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥


Name: Goes by Ada Miller
Nicknames: whatever
Known As: The Manipulative Witch
Gender: Male
Age: Unknown
Height: six feet and zero inches
Zodiac: Scorpio




♥The Taste Is Bitter ♥


Can You Repeat That?
Ada is quite the cheerful guy. He is always smiling and carefree. But to tell truth he's a big daredevil and trouble is his game. He's a huge lover of chaos and all things interesting. He's lived a long life and thus has grown quite bored with his life. So any entertainment he can find is good to him.


Last edited by Rotten on Sat Dec 06, 2014 4:00 am; edited 1 time in total
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Re: Witches Hour (prp with Salt.)

Post  Salt. on Fri Dec 05, 2014 4:57 am



[wip]

Name: Eden Mallow
Nickname:--
Known as: The Priest's daughter
Gender: Female
Age: 19
Height: 5'4
Zodiac sign:Pisces
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Re: Witches Hour (prp with Salt.)

Post  Rotten on Sat Dec 13, 2014 8:01 am

((sorry for taking so long to start this))


The day was young and pleasant. People went about their daily lives in the simple normalcy that you would expect from simple creatures who wanted simple lives. As the young man stood outside his small wooden house, watching everyone in the village go about their day, he couldn't help but to sigh. Boring boring boring boring boring! Why in Hell's name did he decide that it might be fun to live here? He needed to think of something or all this time he spent here would go to waste. With a huff, he put on his default smile, and changed his expression to one of kindness. He then walk down the three wooden steps and was on the ground, walking past people who made sure to give him room. They parted away from him like cattle would to wolves. Their calm simple expressions turning into looks of horror and nervousness. Most of the men were out on the fields, so it was mainly women he passed by today. After he would walk by, they would then clump together and gossip about him, acting in a way that would remind others of hens. "Did you hear?" "That's the boy who lives all alone in the old house by the river,"  "No one has lived in that house for years" "I heard he doesn't go to church..." The fear was imminent in their eyes, but the young man continued to wear his friendly expression, acting oblivious to the others around him. Right now he was merely heading to one of the farmers to buy some vegetables. He had quite a liken to them.

He soon reached the farmer he had wanted to see. He was plowing his field, getting ready to grow the next crops for the new season of fall. The young boy coughed to get his attention, but the old farmer purposely ignored him. Time for a different approach. "Haha, my name  is Ada. And I would like to buy some of your vegetables, Sir." He spoke politely and with friendliness. However, the man still ignored Ada, so he tried something else. He reached into his pocket and took out two very shiny coins. "I'll pay triple the price" he said in a serious tone. The man turned to look at him for the first time, eyes going wide as he saw the shiny coins. Those weren't copper or silver.

After buying his pile of vegetables that were in a wooden bowl the man gave him as a courtesy, Ada began to head home, being careful not to spill the huge pile of veggies he balanced in the bowl.
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Re: Witches Hour (prp with Salt.)

Post  Salt. on Mon Dec 29, 2014 5:31 am



The air was damp, retaining a previous nights moisture in the confines of a wooden chapel. Rows of frayed pews sat in collective silence, their flaws cast beneath the shadow of a large crucifix. A golden light twisted, bleeding from the stained glass that braced itself at the mouth of the church, spilling shafts of sunlight over the entrance, illuminating a thick film of dust as it hovered aimlessly. A girl sat amongst this all, knees against floor boards, elbows pressed to wood. Her lips fluttered inaudibly forming deft prayers in their wake.

The silent seance broke with a single word, 'amen' and with that the young woman lifted nimbly to her feet, a curved form straightening with a heavy exhale. She straightened her skirts, clutching a leather bound book to her chest.

The girl navigated the narrow pews with a repetitive ease, bare feet quiet against the weathered trails of Sunday morning crowds. Her eyes were closed, allowing memory to guide her, casting her through the front doors of the chapel.

Eden Mallow was born bright-eyed in a world that saw black and white. Simplicity was taught as a comfort, a safety net that encompassed the unknown. And after nineteen years, she had accepted this.  She was the Priest's daughter, she was expected to be the embodiment of this ideology. Her father was look to too define this world with his book of explanations and holy scripture, and so, she was expected to live by this definition.

The sun of an early dawn greeted her amiably as she walked onto the porch of the church, the warmth of its touch a welcome change. Eden had spent the past few weeks confined to the four walls behind her, memorizing scripture as the first step towards priestess-hood. Her decision to follow in her fathers path allowed the girl to remain unmarried, and for this reason alone, her life of celebicy was accepted by the community.

Eden pressed her shoulder to a wooden column, leaning against it. Her bare feet where crossed unorthodoxly at the ankle, the trim of her skits playing at her legs, following the good-humored course of an early morning breeze. Her chest rose below the clutch of tightly bound fabric, greedily inhaling the warm air. Tense shoulders rolling beneath the embrace of sunlight, melting at its touch. Blue eyes fluttered open after a few minutes, taking in the scene before her.

Thin throngs of women occupied the small square before the church, fluttering around the street in small flocks. The course of chattering and conversation grew hushed whenever cautious eyes caught the sight of her. Their gossip always found a way of ceasing in Eden's presence, replaced by the smiles and expressions of godly women. As if they believed Eden held the key to heaven, or at the very least, knew where her father kept it.

A smile, soft and vibrant in nature pulled across her lips as her gaze danced across the town, absorbing the lethargic pulse of life. Eyes pulled across the familiar scene, pausing only when the familiarity was thrown to a halt at the sight of a single man.

Despite the caution of the women, gossip never failed to make it it her. Currently all talk was focused around the most recent town inhabitant. Eden had caught fragments of the conversation on Sunday mornings before the sermon had started. The talk was whispered in hightenend intensity, the fear evident in the arch of their tones. A single young man had moved unexpectdetly into the abandoned house at the river, with no relations to anyone in town. He was reserved, without family, and didn't go to church - a deadly combination. Despite having yet seen him, she recognized the boy instantly.

Eden's gaze followed the boy, a flame in a vigorous curiosity. She watched as he carried a basket of vegetables down the street, that might have well been a pile of severed crow heads by the reactions he got from fellow village members. Her eyes, despite her willingness, studied his form. He was tall, his stride effortless, his face composed in friendliness. Something pricked at her consciousness, causing her interest to heighten. In a projected normacly, a single boy stood, an unknown entity in a word of black and white.

Compelled by curiosity, Eden straightened in the slightest, arms folded across her book of explanations, and as the young man neared the church she spoke a single phrase that everyone else, in their fear, had neglected to say -

"Good morning"
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