Avatar of eclecticwitch
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    1. eclecticwitch 7 yrs ago
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4 yrs ago
Current Why is it laundry takes forever?
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5 yrs ago
I just bring watched ALL of the new Dark Crystal! I now have nothing left to live for. I need more!
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5 yrs ago
Time to play some catch up after my short vacation! I just wish I wasn't so exhausted~!
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6 yrs ago
Need to write but my brains is all fried
5 likes
6 yrs ago
@CaptainCrunch - Do eet gurl!
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Most Recent Posts






Location: Cafeteria
Interactions: Archer and Kavan
Color: 98AC90
(Quote by Sylvia Plath)



Guy had turned off the shower and sat in the mess of water and shower curtain for a long while as he sobered up. What a sad experience. He scrubbed his hands over his face before standing and making his way out of the bathroom completely drenched. He drove himself home and slept off his drink. He was barely hungover the next morning which was nice and he spent the rest of his weekend studying. He had considered texting Archer a couple of times but thought the guy would likely be with his fella. Guy didn't want to interrupt that.

School was fairly normal. One of the girls in his English class managed to stab her leg which was alarming. Guy was NOT a fan of blood and the world had spun for a moment when he caught sight of it. She left and it passed. Other than that, school was normal normal normal. People talking about the party. Guy only felt shame in his failed attempt at a one night stand. He had looked for the man, Aiden, since then but had not been able to find him since. How frustrating.

He grabbed a pre-packaged caesar salad and sat down at the lunch table not long after Kavan did. "Afternoon," he said with a yawn. Seeing the two being cute and lovely together, Guy fidgeted. Should he leave? His heart was in his stomach but he smiled. "Ah sorry, you want some priv-" he stopped mid-sentence and noticed the bruises on Archers face. "What happened to you man?" Why was he always so out of the loop!? He could feel anger boiling in his stomach. He wanted to murder whoever had hurt his friend. His eyes slid to Kavan with slight suspicion.




Location: Cafeteria
Interactions: Georgia
Color: E0633C



After Georgia, Gavin, and Sawyer had left she turned to Carter and offered him only a smile and a small thanks before she wandered off. She had set about cleaning up the vomit on the floor that Georgia had left behind. Once satisfied she had cleaned it up properly she sat by the poolside with a bottle of tequila and a cigarette constantly in her hands. She was one of the last to leave, not having realized the party had ended as she had been on her own most of the night. She left the mostly drunken bottle beside the chair and called a taxi to take her home.

Despite her horrid hangover, Bea still woke up at her normal time. She threw up, drank some water, brushed her teeth, danced, showered, and then set about painting. There were a lot of hard feelings she was trying her best to understand but they kept slipping past her fingers. She was working on a huge canvas. The painting itself was abstract in that it was mostly color with undefinable shapes. Maybe as you looked you might see a face or a tree. Then you would lose it right away - the image blending into the background and never fully in reach.

She spent her whole weekend on this painting and brought it to school with her to finish. She parked her truck and carried the unwieldy canvas to the art room. She would come back for it. Her first class was English. With Jordan. Her heart hurt. Bea sat down at her desk and he wasn't there. Why did that hurt so much? It wasn't like he was dead. She zoned out most of the class, her eyes never concentrating on the board or what was said. She tapped her pen against her leg and after a while, it started to hurt. She stared down at the blood spilling slowly from her leg and realized she had not pulled out a pen but an Exacto knife from her bag and had been stabbing it into her leg.

Wiping the object on her school skirt she tucked it away and packed up her things before raising her hand. When finally called on she said she had hurt herself and needed to go to the nurse. It wasn't until she stood with the blood soaking her sock that the teacher understood. She was escorted to the nurse's office where she was told that she would need stitches. Bea refused. Her dads were called and she was taken to the hospital where they patched her up.

The dads had tried to question her about all of this. She had no answers. They wanted to take her home but Bea wanted to go back to school. Her painting was there. They relented only on the agreement that she would see her therapist right after school and she came back just in time for lunch. Bea limped her way into the cafeteria, looking for Georgia. She found her just as Max was leaving. She sat at the table and greeted both Georgie and Chrys. "Afternoon," she said softly and produced her usual tomato and mayo sandwich. "Have you submitted anything to the photography contest? Preparing anything for the County Competitions?" She was referring to the event where schools would compete in various divisions of the arts. Those who won would go statewide, if they wone there they would then go to national.




Location: the East Entrance - Baton Rouge, Louisiana




She watched Jack's hand morph with slightly improper interest. The thought soon passed as the door opened and there, at the center of the room was the crown.

This was going so well!
Too well...

"Y'all was right 'bout deh cen'tral location." She joked lightly to Jack. Her nerves were feeling a bit fried. Nothing attacking them. The crown right fucking there. It all seemed so very wrong. Were they in some kind of illusion? She gasped when Casper marched right up to the crown, picked it up, and plopped it on his head with negative side effects. She let out a puff of laughter as she approached the crown. "Don' seem tah like y'all much, cher," she looked over her shoulder at him with a playful grin.

Bobbi had no desire for the crown to be doing any weird stuff to her so she figured, perhaps if she didn't touch it directly with her skin she would be safe. She reached her hand into the void, soft white light surrounding the part of her arm they could see. Her fingers searched for a pair of gloves and finally caught onto silky cloth. She pulled white, satin opera gloves through to her. They were decorated with pearls along the outer seam of the arm. "Ils sont si beaux!" she exclaimed. She pulled the gloves onto her hands, which contrasted with the darker colored thief suit she wore. It was then she picked up the crown.

Unfortunately, the gloves did not keep her safe from the crown. A jolt ran through her hands and she dropped the crown with a gasp. She turned her eyes on Casper, about to joke that it didn't like her either when a flood of memories - dark, disturbing things rushed through her. Bobbi shivered, her knees giving out on her as she fell to the floor gasping. All of it coming back. She wished it hadn't. What was going on? She put her gloved hands to her head, fingers tangling into her wild hair, as she let out a choked sob. She didn't want to remember any of this!
Mona Windrider



Location: The Future Palace
Skills:





The rasping scream had jerked her out of the whirling miasma that had become her headspace. She blinked down at the head in her hands and then up at the rest of the group. They had either not heard him or were much too busy doing other things. There did seem to be an awful lot of talking and gesticulating going on. Mona looked down at the head again and responded, "I don-knae." Her voice was a croaked whisper. This was all very stressful for this poor, country bumpkin.

Slowly she approached the others, somewhat wary in case this was all their doing. "Excuse me," she managed to squeak out but it did nothing. Mona looked over the moat again, down at the dead bodies and back up at the group. Taking a deep breath she tried again, this time perhaps a little too loud - "EXCUSE ME!" she blinked, blushed, and looked down at Erasmus. "Where exactly are weh?" she inquired in a hoarse voice at a much more normalized volume.





Location: Serval Industries - Labs --> Rooftop
Skills:


Bobbi ignored Belladonna. Stupid little girl. What the fuck did she know? She was right, she hadn't been here. She had no part to play in this little scene. She should go off and play with her dollies and swords or something. Bobbi was having trouble thinking straight and seeing was increasingly difficult with the tears that were coming into her eyes. She was kneeling beside the Witch, wondering what she should do. She wanted to wrap her hands around Watts' neck. The Witch's neck. Someone needed to pay. Watts seemed to agree.

If looks could have killed, the glare she shot over her shoulder at the man would have knocked him dead in an instant. She made a hissing sound with her tongue in her teeth while she trembled with her grief and rage. "Don't you think I already fucking know that?" she screamed at him. But the fight was over. Watts had sped her out of the room, leaving her feeling a bit nauseous and dizzy. Bobbi didn't wait to see if the others were sped out as well. She took off running, forgetting her hammer was left in the lab.

Her feet had taken her down this path hundreds of times. During the day. In the night. She didn't think, just cried and ran. She slowed as she came to the roof access door and walked out into the failing light. Now that she was here, her gait became a wobbly walk - ask if she had drunk to excess. The dirty, gravel and tar lining crunched beneath her shoes. She made it to the edge of the roof as the wind scooped up and twirled her hair about her head. The bitter cold of the night air chilled her and chapped her cheeks. Leaning over the edge she looked down on the city life that whirred on around her while her tears made the descent from her face to the ground far below. It marred her make-up, smudging her face.

Bobbi climbed onto the edge and sat down, her feet dangling. She leaned back and brought her face to the starry night sky and let out a howling scream of rage. Of sadness. Of tiredness. She brought her face to her hands and sobbed uncontrollably. She hardly knew the guy. She had made no effort to get to know him. He had been a nice enough person though. He hadn't deserved it. Watts was right. It would have been better if it had been her. Everyone here would be happier. She wouldn't have to deal with the tumultuous emotions that were ripping her apart and fraying the seams of her psyche. Everyone would have their stupid, silly uncle-like dork of a friend. And no one would have to put up with Druggy Mac-hot-mess-enstein.

After a while, her sobs abated and she dug through her pants pockets to find her mangled pack of cigarettes and a zippo lighter. It took her a few tries because her hands were shaking so badly and the cold of the air had numbed her fingers. She inhaled the sweet smoke deeply and blew it out with a slow, shaky breath. The tears threatened to spill from the corners of her eyes again she quickly swiped the back of her hand over her them.






Location: Serval Industries - Lab --> Imprisonment Area
Skills:


Wes nodded at Gardner's statement. They had barely started and already a vacation was recommended. They had just lost someone after all. He wondered if there would be a funeral. He scrubbed a hand over his face and went to help Bobbi with Wanda. He easily hefted her into his arms before he was ushered out of the door by Watts at top speed. He was in the hall just in time to see Bobbi's feet disappear around a corner. This left Wes with their enemy. "I'll go put her away then," he said to the others and gestured with his chin to the comatose woman he carried.

A quick adjustment and he held her more stably against his chest, almost in a bridal position. Without looking back he carried Wanda down the halls until he reached the confinement chambers. He set up a cell for her, making sure she would have the things she needed to keep her comfortable - pillows, blankets, water. He also set about properly caring for her bruises and cuts. He cleaned and bandaged her and kept cool compresses to the particularly nasty bruises on her face.

The slow actions gave him time to think things through. He had been late. He hadn't gotten there in time. He had stalled, stayed behind. Torn between protecting the guests, getting more information out of Gardner, and going directly to the scene of the crime. This woman that he cared for with gentle hands had been the downfall of his teammate. Well, he still didn't have the whole story. Perhaps she was not completely at fault. Just because she was the enemy did not mean she had necessarily acted with such evil.

He brushed her tangled red hair from her face. No. The person he truly blamed for this situation was Gardner herself. There was something so completely off about this. He needed more information on that woman. He would get proper revenge for Andrew. A good, lawful sort of revenge. Droplets of water fell onto the Witch's face. Wes' eyes widened and he looked up, expecting to see a leak. Instead, tears rolled down his cheeks. He hastily wiped them away and then cleaned them from the Witch's face. He would be sure to get this woman's side of the story too.





Location: Serval Industries - Labs
Skills:


She stood stock still before she retrieved her hammer in a dazed like state. Bobbi was slowly processing what had happened here and it was all coming together. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes as she hefted the weight of the hammer over her shoulder. When Gardner came in she had the sense to show the guilt she was starting to feel. She had failed. Good god, someone had died. She really wanted a hit of something. Anything. A cigarette. Yeah that would do...

And then Watts spoke.

And Bobbi shattered.

She rounded on him, her eyes filled with tears which were beginning to smudge her make-up. Her footfalls were steady as she approached the manufactured speedster. Her shoulders were hunched as her stance became predatorial. The hammer's staff was worked in her palms as she rubbed over them as if she were a baseball player refining her grip. Her body was shaking with the rage and grief she felt. Bobbi had only known Andrew a short while but he was one of two people here, maybe three, who treated her with any decency or kindness.

She swung the hammer. It had not been her intention to truly hit Watts. Just throw her weight around so to speak. And throw it around she did. Her body, under a barrage of emotions she refused to usually deal with, followed the hammer and she fell to the ground at Watts' feet. Her face burned with her embarrassment and a choked sob escaped her lips. "Fuck you. You were here too you fucking fuck. If this is my fault its your fucking fualt too you pompous, egomaniacal, sociopath!" Her words rose in pitch until she screeched out the word 'sociopath.' She then turned her gaze up at the man. "Fucking quit. I'm not gonna. Cuz I don't back out on my people like that. I don't throw the blame and I want to see the Witch burn." She stood, standing in front of the scientist - quite tiny in comparison. Tears streamed freely down her face. "Don't let the door hit you on the way out, coward." She flipped him the bird right in his beady, red, stupid eyes before storming over to the witch, dragging her hammer behind her, and searching for something to tie the bitch up with.






Location: Serval Industries - Lab
Skills:


Wesley let go when the speedster became too much to hold. He held his arms up in a placating position - think Chris Pratt trying to calm velociraptors. His eyes burned cold as he watched the man lose his shit. When he mentioned the death of their teammate being his and Bobbi's fault. Her immediately bristled and a low growl escaped his throat. He understood the man was upset, he was speaking from pure emotion. But with Watts he likely meant it.

It was too much for Bobbi it seemed. Wes lowered his arms as he watched the girl attempt an attack on Watts which failed miserably. He did not intercede in her rant and let her go take care of the very unconscious and bloody woman. He turned his attention back to Gardner. "I am not totally sure myself ma'am. It seems I arrived too late to be of any help." He brushed his hand through his hair as he looked over the mess in the lab. "I think once these two calm down a bit we can get some sort of story. If you don't mind, I will take that over and report to you." He didn't want her to get any information he was not comfortable with her having in his hands.
Mona Windrider



Location: The Future Palace
Skills:





Mona felt the heat of the fire before anything else. It licked at her clothes and feet, leaving her feeling overly warm. She hugged the vampire head to her chest in instinct, though if she had really thought about it was likely a bad idea. But his mouth was sealed so she was QUITE lucky. When she stumbled forth from the flames it was into ruin. She blinked a couple of times, turning this way, then that, and finally spinning in a circle as she took it all in.

Something wasn't quite right here.

She looked at the head in her hands and sighed, "I need teh find a bettah way teh carry ye, friend." Her words were quiet and contemplative as the gears and cogs of her mind worked and churned to comprehend what was going on. She jumped slightly as a blonde woman began to morn what appeared to be an overly cooked turkey.

Probably wasn't an overly cooked turkey.

There was a big blue man crossing the moat, getting out at the other side. The castle looked to be in shambles. There were dead bodies left to just sit about out in the open. She turned her eyes on Bruce and then on the decimation of the world. Had he done this? No. He had helped them before. Why destroy it all now? Was he truly a being of chaos? Was she misunderstanding?

Rag nor Rock? There seemed to be plenty of both about. Mostly rocks. No one was making sense and her head had an odd ringing in at as her gears whirred to catch up with the fact that someone had said the word "future."

There was a good chance Mona's head was about to pop.




Location: the East Entrance - Baton Rouge, Louisiana




She let out a soft cheer as the security camera was taken out by Jack. AND, bonus, it was a paintball gun she had summoned and not one of those automatic death machines. She turned a broad smile toward Casper. "Not me, mon amie. Don't be fo'gettin' y'alls shoes now." She gestured to his fallen footwear before following Jack to the door. And SCORE! It was open. How lucky. How fortuitous. How goddamn suspicious. She placed a hand on Jack's arm, looking up at him with concern creasing her eyebrows. "This smells like a trap cher," she said quietly.

She removed the hand from his upper arm and pushed her fingers into the void. A white circular light glowed around her now missing arm as she dug about in that space. After a few moments of her fingers brushing over objects she finally felt the familiar grip of her hammer. She pulled it back out through the void, feeling much better prepared for what was behind the door. "Je suis prĂŞt Ă  partir."





Location: Winged Boar --> Sky Bourne --> Faeril's Eyrie




Fatima had just enough time to fling her arms around the Eyrien’s neck and throw the taunt of “See you at the hilltop!” before the sudden shock of being airborne cause her stomach to drop into her knees. She gasped as they ascended, the feeling of being so far from the ground was dizzying! She peeked her face out from where she had pressed it to Xandar’s shoulder. The world had dropped so far away. Her eyes were the size of dinner plates as she looked up at the man who carried her.

The initial shock was wearing off and her face split into a wide grin as she laughed with true mirth. Before she responded she let out a delighted woop, wiggling a bit in his arms as she did so and then strengthened her hold on him in fear she would fall. And again she laughed. “I’ve never flown before! I’ve always wanted to know what it was like to be a falcon. It’s… absolutely breathtaking!” She tried to turn to see if she could find the group below but had no luck. “I don’t mind walking though,” she said as an afterthought. And as a second after thought she realized she was up in the air with no wings herself, with the Queen Killer. At least this would be a good test of loyalty. Or her death.

Xandar laughed slightly as he saw her excited face in his arms, although he could certainly tell this was her first time flying. Most would either be very fascinated by the heights, scared of them and clinging for dear life, or some mixture of both. As an Eyrien he was very used to the feeling of flying it was almost like running, it felt great but it was just a natural part of life.

“Walking is a bit of a pain when it’s up a mountain dear. I would rather fly if it means getting somewhere far quicker. Although when you fly as much as I have you get used to it I suppose.” he chuckled, his wings flapping in the cool breeze as he reached the summit and paused for a moment in mid-air, keeping them aloft. It seemed that there was a scuffle, several heavily armed Eyrien men were trying to make their way through the front door of Faeril’s dwelling. The Reaper smelled blood.

“It seems we have some… unexpected company, Queen Fatima.”

She followed his gaze down to the ground. She could not make out exact uniforms, but could tell that the men were certainly not welcome. Frowning, she turned her face up toward him. “Is life with the Widow always this exciting?” she inquired with a note of humor.

“To be fair, I have only been here a day. And so far? Yes.” He said with some truth to it as he quietly landed down behind one of the few trees in the front yard. He set Fatima down on her feet, taking her by the shoulders as he felt his adrenaline surge. “Now listen to me. I’m going to handle our… guests, with a warm welcome. I advise you to stay here until the dust has settled. It’d be very bad on my resume if you got hurt already.”

Fatima pouted, crossing her arms beneath her chest. “I’m a healer too, you know. Not just a Queen. I could be there to help anyone hurt. Well, anyone on our side I guess.”

Xandar shook his head, patting Fatima’s as he looked over and pointed at the front door. “Alright, now how do you suppose you’re going to get in there and heal anybody with all of them standing in your way? That’s why I am going to remove them from the premises. Then you can do your job. Deal?”

“But, I could probably hit them with something. Like…” She looked around a moment before picking up a large, thick branch. “Like this!” Unfortunately for her, this branch, while quite large and girthy, was particularly old and would break upon impact with anything.

He took the stick in his one hand, snapping it in half and setting the half he had broken back down on the ground. “I like the enthusiasm, but please stay out of this. This is for your own safety. You have to trust me to protect you if you want me on your court, right?” The Reaper smirked, turning away from her. He vanished his armor on, a dark black color which hugged his muscular form as his eyes fixed on the group. His ebon grey now hung on his neck, and he used his craft to enhance his strength, feeling like he could lift a mountain in this state. Stronger, faster, more agile, this technique he learned turned him into a super soldier of sorts, although the effects only lasted as long as he kept the energy for it. And he had a feeling he’d have to use a lot.

“I won’t be long.” Xandar said in a now dead serious tone, vanishing his warblade in his hand as he got ready for a charge.

Fatima huffed as she watched him get battle ready, tossing her useless stick to the side. She maintained in her mind that his strength was what broke it. Not the feebleness of the weapon. Regardless she crossed her arms again and said, “That’s what they always say,” in a quiet grumble. Finally, seeing she wasn’t going to get across to him she threw her hands dramatically into the air. “Guess I’ll go find a place to hide then!” The notes to her tone were lemon sour. However, she was already planning the best way to sneak around and maybe punch someone. Well… Probably not that, but at least be more helpful than sitting on the sidelines helplessly. She could probably throw rocks or something. Right?

Ignoring the quiet grumbling behind him, he was in a zone as he smelled blood and fear. He felt the Ebon-Grey cloak his body in a shield as he got ready to lunge, looking at the group of soldiers in front of him. There were nine in total out front, ranging from Purple to Green it seemed, and three more inside. It was quite the task force just for a common house raid, and he had a feeling they were after him. He didn’t want to hurt the rest of the people or the house though, but he had to do something. They could handle the rest of the three themselves surely, but he needed to cut the others off so they would face him. A plan hatched in his head.

A near black dome enveloped the nine soldiers, and before they knew what happened, Xandar leaped forward in the air with his wings spread wide and his sword in hand. Before the soldiers could react, The Reaper slammed down into the ground with force, sending a blast shooting forward that sent five of them careening into the shield dome. Two of them died from the impact, plastered against the dome in a bloody heap as three more blacked out from the blast. The other four had braced slightly before impact, and they turned to look back at him as he heft his blade on his shoulder.

“Be careful what you wish for, because death is always lurking around the corner.”

Meanwhile Fatima took the chance, once his back was turned, to make her way through the forested mountainside and up toward where the men were. She gathered good, sharp looking rocks along the way. While she was attempting to find a nice tree to safely throw the rocks from, a dome of ebon-grey appeared. She frowned, suspecting it would not only keep things in but also out. She tossed one of her rocks and found her suspicion to be true.

She figured it was safe enough to do so, since she could not get in, and howled like a wolf when some of the attackers fell. As a healer Fatima wondered if that was against some sort of code. Like she was supposed to heal everyone or something and only wish a being good will. In the end, what did it truly matter? Cuz these suckers needed to go down. As the fight continued she now looked for a way to get around the dome and moved toward the side of the Eyrie.
Mona Windrider



Location: The Palace Entryhall to the Library
Skills:





She wondered how anyone knew where they were going in such a place. For her, a home was as good as a clear field and the path was as far as the eye could see. It was hard to wrap her head around the twists and turns. As she was making her decision on which direction to go she not only saw people going into the Library but she heard someone a little way up as well. Alarm filled her and not just with all of the dead which surrounded her.

Should she go toward actual human like people persons who seemed not to be dangerous and one of which had helped in the fight? Or should she go to the mysterious voices of mystery which could mean her death? After a few moments of deliberation, in which she asked the head for advice and the head gave no discernable answer, she went toward the Library. She wasn't ready to get killed just yet, after all. She hurried after them and only caught up once they had crossed the threshold of the Library. Mona puffed for air, not realizing she had been holding it while in the Hall. The stench of blood and death was nauseating.
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