Witch of Winter [Closed]

[saying dude]

break my curse.
break my curse.
______________________________________________________________________
INTRODUCTION

xxxx This is a private roleplay between saying dude, angelmarina, fuzzdufuz, and little nutbrown hare.

[saying dude]

break my curse.
break my curse.
______________________________________________________________________
SETTING

xxxx Day 1 Year 1, after the funeral...
The townspeople remain scattered around the church, after such a shocking incident everyone longs to return to the uneventful days Snowdrop Town was known for but things were different now; someone was dead because of this Winter. It was time for a change.

[saying dude]

__________________________________________________________________
this is my story.
this is my story.

xxxx The clumsy innkeeper had not slept the night before the funeral, seeing such a tragic death had unnerved her and now she didn’t know what to do with herself. The inn had been closed since her death; the townspeople had kept to themselves anyway so she didn’t lose customers. It seemed like nobody thought it was appropriate to go out and converse with everyone as though the death meant nothing. Annabelle knew the boy that died; he used to come to the inn frequently for hot chocolate and was always a pleasant person to talk to. She sighed at the thought, the boy had died from an icicle falling from a rooftop and puncturing his heart. Annabelle felt bad for the boy’s family and the mayor, Edward had been shocked by the death and did his best to calm the crowd. She knew that the mayor constantly blamed himself for the never-ending winter the town was cursed with, even if he had no power over the Witch who caused it. Annabelle frowned lightly at the thought, when she came to the town she had no knowledge about its hardships and was just a silly rich girl who was in over her heart. Perhaps she still was. Annabelle glanced at her clock and sighed lightly before forcing herself out of her chair; it was time to get ready for the funeral.

xxxx Annabelle approached her closet once she was finished showering, it was only appropriate that she wear darker clothing but those dresses were hard to find in the sea of clothing. She had taken all of her dresses from home with her, but she never wore most of them. The silver-haired female bit her lip and finally pulled out a dark purple dress after a few minutes of search. Annabelle pressed the gown up against her body and studied it before nodded her head, she always double-checked before deciding on an outfit. She quickly slipped on the dress and began searching for a matching bow for her hair, maybe even some ribbons. Annabelle braided her hair and tied her bow around the end once she found one, then clipped a bow onto the back of her head. She glanced at herself in the mirror, she looked much older when she wore dark dresses and tied her hair back but older was the last thing a girl could want to look like. Annabelle rolled her eyes and grabbed her gloved off her desk, then went to go retrieve her umbrella from the back porch. Once she was ready to go she slipped on her small heeled shoes and opened up her lace umbrella as she stepped on the door. It wasn’t raining and the clouds blocked the sun but she always read about women taking their pretty umbrellas with them to funerals.

- - -

xxxxOnce the funeral was over Annabelle stepped out of the church and walked over to a nearby bench to rest, she was exhausted after such a sorrowful morning. She looked around with her ruby eyes at all of the people who attended the funeral and she wondered if they all thought the same thing as her when the boy died. It was the Witch’s fault. If she hadn’t cursed the town then none of this would have happened, the ice would have melted away by the end of winter. Annabelle sighed and looked down at her shoes; if only there was something she could do, but what? She was just an innkeeper; it wasn’t like she could conjure up a spell to help the Goddess. Annabelle rolled her eyes at the thought, if only it were that easy! Maybe some day someone would help the Goddess and the town, but many of the townspeople had already lost hope after five years of winter. The innkeeper bit her lip again at the thought and began to toy with the ribbon wrapped around her hair, if only…

xxxx Annabelle looked up to look at everyone again when she noticed the strange, infamous twins standing near the church. The shadows covered them and many people didn’t notice them at all, if they did Annabelle knew that they would be spooked. The twins gave her the chills, they claimed to be minions of the Witch but nobody knew if that were really true. They always randomly appeared, Annabelle remembered them in town square when the boy died, but they hardly ever said anything. She knew their names were Isabella and Isaiah, but she along with everyone else didn’t know much more. Only Karina seemed to ever talk to them, but Annabelle had never bothered to ask if the farmer knew anything more about them. The innkeeper allowed her eyes to linger on the twins for a few more seconds before looking away, she didn’t want to creep herself out. She began to twirl her umbrella and continued to think about the Witch. For a moment she wondered if the twins were the key to the Witch, perhaps they could make the Witch come back? Annabelle sighed; they would never talk to her!

xxxx “Looks like I don’t have a chance at being the heroine in this story,” she said out loud, frowning.

[Myro Gato]

Darron Veillon

Things fall apart

•°o.O O.o°••°o.O O.o°••°o.O O.o°••°o.O O.o°•

The break of dawn hung along the horizon of Sundrop Town. Whatever was left of dawn, anyway. Sun attempted to stretch across the sky, but was met by relentless cloud-cover. The cold, endless years of Winter made it impossible to remember what real sunrise looked like anymore.For now, it was only a dreary lightening of the sky. Darron could feel the cold even when he was inside, it pierced the land after surrounding them for so long. After a while, even his art had lost its color, fading away like the land around them. Darron had officially lived there for six years, and only experienced one Summer and Fall before what seemed like a cruel curse spread. This curse had only gotten worse, until...

Darron blinked awake suddenly, and held a paint-splattered hand to his head. A dull headache throbbed at his temples. For whatever reason, sleep eluded him the night before.The thought of an oncoming funeral did something unusual to him. He hardly even knew the kid who got killed, but it didn't stop him from feeling the impact. The last person he had seen was Karina, going a bit out of it.He left the scene after that, unable to watch anyone fret over the boy any more. He hadn't left his small loft since then. He tried to make the colors and the paint speak out in his work, but they were all muddled by the event. Last night was his last attempt to create something, but it became his failure. Another attempt at finishing his great piece destroyed. He stood, scratching dried paint from his hair, no more avoiding it.

Clad in an itchy dark jacket and the most formal pants he could find, Darron stood at the funeral. There was something odd about the whole thing. At most funerals he had attended when he was younger, everything seemed to be mostly uncertain and anxious. Most of the deaths that had occurred were of old men he didn't even know with vast fortunes to give away. Most of the attendees were simply eager to find out how much they would earn that day. But no, this was so entirely different. Sorrow hung heavy in the air, weighing down the already ominous clouds. They were surrounded in grief, the entire town. All of them had been swallowed completely by the Winter, and there was no escape.

==========

After the funeral, the entire town simply meandered around the church courtyard. Many clumped up in groups, nearly silent. They almost read "do not disturb" on their hushed lips. Darron shoved his palms in to his pockets, feeling around the frayed lining. Who knew he could feel so connected with the entire town and suddenly here he was, disconnected entirely. A voice sparked in the near distance. He turned slightly, his eyes becoming fixed on a girl in full skirted purple dress flowing with purple bows. He raised an eyebrow, wondering how she could possibly wear such a color and seem to blend so well in to the background so seamlessly. He took the color as note for later. Her voice was caught by the wind, the words flowing around aimlessly. He wandered over a few steps

"Heroine, eh?" He nearly scoffed, but kept his manners. "I don't think things like that exist anymore, especially not here." His hand slipped from his pocket for a moment to motion to the church courtyard, overflowing with gloom.


•°o.O O.o°••°o.O O.o°••°o.O O.o°••°o.O O.o°•

Just so things can fall together

[little nutbrown hare]

speech

Noah shivered beneath the multiple bedcovers in his small apartment, situated on the floor above the grocery store. The rooms were small, but cozy - but, unfortunately, there was one problem. The heating system was weak, and most of it was concentrated on the grocery store itself instead of his meager apartment. This was why there were so many blankets on his bed; he was always so cold. Winter was his least favorite season, and the Witch had trapped them in it. Noah was constantly bundled up in multiple layers, and sleeping was no exception. But, this also presented another problem. Getting out from beneath the warm covers was a challenge, especially when he had little motivation for anything. Since the death of the boy last week, Noah had felt like he was forcing himself to do even the most simple of tasks. His job acquainted him with almost everyone in town, especially those he delivered to.

Today was the funeral, and Noah felt almost as if he wouldn't be able to go. He knew he should; the family was devastated and the mother had sobbed on his shoulder when she'd come into the store a few days ago. Although many stores had closed during the week between the death and the funeral, Noah didn't have the option, considering he was the only grocery store in town. So, he'd kept the place open, even if there were few customers. Those who came in did so only for necessities, with short, curt interactions and little pleasantry. The town that had been shrouded by winter for so long felt suddenly colder, gloomier, darker. Normal routine had been disrupted. Despite the winter, the townspeople still attempted to keep up some semblance of normalcy. This was the first time someone had really suffered to the point of losing a life due to the season that Sundrop Town had been trapped in.

Noah didn't think he could take it much longer.

With the alarm on his bedside still blaring, he figured that he needed to get up. He didn't want to be late to the funeral... With a long, harsh sigh, he quickly threw the blankets back from the bed and ignored the goosebumps that immediately broke across his skin from the temperature change. He dressed in a black button up, with black dress pants and a black peacoat. He owned a lot of black clothing so it was no problem. With that, he set off to the funeral. It was a short walk, as the church where it was taking place was only a block away from him.


- - -


When the funeral ended, it didn't really seem to end. The despair still hung over everyone, and the loud speeches were instead replaced by quiet, hushed whispering between grouped townspeople. Noah wasn't much in the mood for talking. He wasn't really used to relating to the way people felt, but right now, he just felt like it would never be warm or light or happy again.

Should he head back? He didn't want to appear rude. Adjusting his black gloves, he rubbed his hands together in front of his face and blew on them briefly. He was getting even colder standing around out here, and he shifted his weight from foot to foot. He moved towards one of the benches in the courtyard, where the people flittered around and remained. He settled himself on it, propping his face on his elbow as he took up the habit of people-observing. Noah wasn't one for interacting, listening instead to the tittering gossip and the murmured condolences, and the other range of commentary. He was afraid to do things like that, especially considering the lack of filtering he had on his mouth. Often, he would say things that he didn't mean, and regret them later. His tendencies to be straightforward and honest were not always well received.

Green gaze moving around the various occupants of the courtyard, he settled momentarily on Annabelle and Darron. He was particularly good friends with Annabelle, and had been for a while; she was clueless, even if kindhearted, and clumsy. Darron.. Well, Noah didn't know Darron that well. But the other male was handsome, and there was no denying it. And, despite his total lack of artistic ability, Noah loved the scent of paints and art supplies, which Darron always seemed to have. Not only that, but he was incredibly talented. He'd seen a few of the other's works and he admired them so, especially considering Noah's inability to draw a good looking stick figure. The two of them looked to be talking, though it didn't seem to be about what was going on around them. Noah sighed, letting his eyes close for a few moments so that he could just try and settle himself. He was entirely too thrown off by this event.

[saying dude]

xxxx “I’m pretty sure the town is this way,” the musician said coolly, looking up at his older brother.

xxxx The warrior rolled his eyes. “No, it’s this way. That’s what the merchant said!”

xxxx “No, he didn’t! He said to the right, not the left.”

xxxx “He said the left!”

xxxx The younger brother narrowed his eyes. “How about this? You go left and I go right, then we’ll see who gets there first.”

xxxx “Fine.”

- - -

xxxx Two days had passed since Nicholas and Andrew went their separate ways, Nicholas to the right and Andrew to the left. The musician had arrived at Snowdrop Town within a few hours of going his own way, but he was shocked when he arrived in town square just moments after an icicle fell one of the townspeople. There were at least thirty people crowding around the body and Nicholas simply stood there in shock, he never expected to be met with death when he first arrived. The musician bit his lower lip and slipped away from the scene, he felt uncomfortable just standing there. He passed by two unusual people with pointed ears and abnormal white hair but said nothing, they didn’t seem like the type who would want to stop and chat. Nicholas walked over to the inn and sat down at the bench next to the building, he would just wait for the innkeeper or his brother to show up before doing anything. The innkeeper, a ditsy girl named Annabelle, arrived before his brother and showed Nicholas to his room. I wonder where Andrew is, he thought as he followed Annabelle to his room.

xxxx The next day Nicholas decided to explore the town now that there wasn’t a mob in town square, he went by the mayor’s office to chat but didn’t stay very long, the mayor looked tired and he felt bad for the man. Nicholas walked up a tall hill to the church and pulled his guitar case closer to him so it didn’t throw off his balance. When he reached the grand doors of the church he hesitantly pushed them open to poke his head inside and walked in when he didn’t see anybody. He sat down on the front pew and leaned back, the church was very calming. Nicholas slipped off his guitar case and then pulled out his instrument, deciding to play a soft tone. Nicholas brushed his fingers against the string and began playing a lullaby his mother used to sing to him and his brother. It was a song for strength and comfort, for hope and happiness. Nicholas smiled at the thought; his mother was the one who taught him about music.

xxxx “You play remarkably well,” said a voice from the corner.

xxxx Nicholas nearly dropped his guitar from fright. “A-Ah!” he paused to look over to the man, who happened to be the pastor. “Oh, thank you. My mother taught me,” he said happily, grinning.

xxxx The pastor laughed. “Do you play any other instruments, son?”

xxxx Nicholas nodded. “I play the violin and piano as well.”

xxxx “Violin? Well, well!” the pastor said, “I need a violinist for the funeral, if you’re interested.”

xxxx Nicholas blinked and looked away; he knew the funeral was for the boy. “For the boy, from yesterday?” he asked, though his question was rhetorical. “Alright, I’ll do it.”

---

xxxx Nicholas had played all throughout the funeral though the sound of his violin was drowned by all of the crying and words of goodbye. He watched as everyone left the church once the funeral was over, only the family stayed behind to take the casket to the graveyard. The wanderer sighed and ran his fingers through his hair; this town was not what he expected. It seemed that winter cursed the land and now tragedy did as well. Nicholas sat down and thought of his mother’s funeral, she had died three years ago but it seemed like yesterday. She had always been fragile and weak to illness, then one day she simply lost the battle. She no longer had the strength to live and so she passed away in her sleep one night. Nicholas understood that it was her time but Andrew took it hard, perhaps that was why he became so cold. He used to be so nice and cheery, Nicholas thought and shrugged lightly. He could only do so much to help his brother, it would take love to heal Andrew’s wounds! Nicholas laughed at the thought and turned to his violin, he was in the mood for music. He pressed the violin up against his skin and began to play the same lullaby as yesterday. Nicholas closed his eyes as he played, music put a certain spell on him where he could only pay attention to what he was playing.


[ o o c ] I have terrible writer's block, terrible post. OTL [ / o o c ]

[angelmarina]

┃│Karina Sinclair┃│

┃│The Farmer┃│

'cuz when it all boils down
At the end of the day
It's what you do and say
That makes you who you are
Makes you think about it,
Think about it
Doesn't it
Sometimes all it takes is one voice

┃│┃│┃│┃│┃│┃│┃│┃│┃│┃│


A shiver ran up her spine as she quickly turned off her alarm. Her blanket still draped around her shoulders as the brown eyed farmer quietly began to dress. She wasn't fond of funerals, but she somehow felt responsible for the boy's death. They had been very close, friends even. Now, he was gone. She couldn't cry or feel sorrow, she learned it was better to hold her head up high in these times. Not that she couldn't cry, she just refused to allow herself to do it. Despite her usual get up, she found that she had a single black dress. It was simple, but held a history of sorrow behind it, how many funerals had she worn it too?

She knew she wore it to the funeral of both of Damen's parents. That had been a really hard time for him. She didn't want to wear it, wrinkling her nose, she slipped it on anyways. Karina always had a great love of hats, but no hats she owned could ever go with this outfit. It was just to depressing. Sighing, she put on a smile. She had gotten up very early because she had much to do. First thing, first: animals. Slipping on her shoes and a coat, she headed outside into the unforgiving cold. She shivered at the temperature change as she dashed to her chicken coop.

She had to get a heater for her animals, she was so scared they would freeze to death. Closing the coop door behind her, she adjusted the heater's temperature and turned to her babies. "Good morning Chicky, Chica, Chico, Chichi, and Lue." She said to her chickens. Pouring them some feed, she gathered up their eggs and placed half in the shipping bin, the rest she took with her. "See you guys later!" She said happily. She stepped out of the coop and trudged through the snow. Entering the barn, her windblow brown hair and pink cheeks stood out as she listened to the cows and sheep.


"Morning Moo, Leche, Bells, Betsy, Betty-" She took a breath and began listing names off her fingers. "Chocolate, Baa, Lindsey, Tammy, and Shelly." Feeding them, she then tended to each one, picking up all milk and wool after careful milking and shearing. She took special care of Moo, her pregnant cow. After all was done, she entered her greenhouse after careful shipping of her lovelies products. She tended to the small herbs she had grown and any other crops. She knew Lily would be mad at her because she had a habit of keeping her greenhouse in spring. It was her way of coping with the loss of the beautiful season. Karina had been in this town for a while, two or three years, to her it felt like forever. Especially without spring.

Done with her work, she wiped off the sweat from her brow. Sweating in the middle of endless winter, that in itself was amusing to her. Finally she had one last stop before the funeral. The doctor's house. She made her way out of her greenhouse and briefly paused to look at her barren field. It was a sad sight, especially for a farmer. She kicked the snow as if it would go away. Not even weeds grew anymore. Dropping the gathered product she hadn't shipped at home she ventured out to Lily's.


┃│┃│┃│┃│┃│┃│┃│┃│┃│┃│

Take what you want
Steal my pride
Build me up
Or cut me down to size
Shut me out
But I'll just scream
Im only one voice in a million
but you aint taking that from me
Oh oh no you aint taking that from me

[angelmarina]

» ✿ «Lily Lena Simon» ✿ «

» ✿ «The Doctor» ✿ «

When she was just a girl

She expected the world

But it flew away from her reach

✩ - ✿ - ❀ - ❁ - ❄ - ❅ - ❆ - ❇ - ❤


The doctor gripped her cup of tea as she sat in her bed. She had no plans to go to the funeral. She hated death, it scared her. Even though she knew it was unavoidable, she would run from it anyway. She wasn't all that courageous, she never was. Thats not to say that she ran away from her problems. Death was just a loophole to that rule. Yawning, she took another sip of her mint tea as she headed downstairs, she lived in a bedroom upstairs from the clinic she kept.

A knock on her door made her jump slightly, she hadn't been expecting anyone, but as a doctor Lily always had to be prepared. Opening the door, she was surprised to see Karina. "Ms. Sinclair? May I ask the purpose of your visit? You look to be in perfect health." She asked formally, she was very formal in fact, when she wasn't upset of course. She set down her mug and looked the upbeat farmer up and down.

Though some pep was lost from her step; this, Lily easily noticed, having always known Karina for her antics. She invited the girl in quickly closing the unforgiving cold out of her warm and toasty house."I came to get you, so that we can go to the funeral together." Lily could see that this experience was hard for Karina. The girl never cared much for company, unless she had a good reason. She looked away. "I'm not going. I am very empathetic, I can't do things like funerals." She crossed her arms and gave Karina a stare.

The brown eyed girl pursed her lips. "Your going." Just to prove her point, she watched as Karina went through her closet. She was about to protest, not happy with the girl going up to her bedroom and rummaging through her things. Before she could further object, she was given a black dress. It was one of the few outfits that were adverse to her culture, not to mention personality. "But Karina!" She said feebly, but it was obvious she had lost this arguement, she was going. And before she knew it, she was dressed and they were off to the chruch.
~ ~ ~

After the funeral, Lily's eyes were all red and puffy from all the crying. Her crying had died down to small hiccups as she walked with Karina out of the church. She was ready to go home now. She was absolutely mad at Karina for dragging her along, but she knew if she hadn't gone she would have regreted it. Sniffing, her and Karina stood in the middle of the vast area. Clusters of people were here and there. She noticed Noah all alone on a bench as well as Annabelle and Darron at another.

Sighing, she tried to calm down as a shiver ran down her spine. She felt like her tears had frozen on her face. The thoughts of how the town use to be such a warm and welcoming place broke her heart. Now it had become so dead and lifeless. It was more of a tundra now then a town. Looking around, she decided it was time to head home. "K-Karina, I'm going home 'Kay?" She said to her friend, shivering and taking steps awag from her. Her hand began to sway as she walked.

✩ - ✿ - ❀ - ❁ - ❄ - ❅ - ❆ - ❇ - ❤

and the bullets catch in her teeth

Life goes on, it gets so heavy

The wheel breaks the butterfly

Every tear a waterfall

In the night the stormy night she'll close her eyes

[Myro Gato]

D E L I L A H ____A R E T HReality Ends

CREATIVITY_____IS_____FOREVER_____

________________

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The sky seemed to be in alliance with the cold, or, it seemed that way to Delilah. Cross-armed and completely swaddled in blankets, she leaned against her windowsill. Her eyes peered out in to the blank skies, as if she were searching for something. But what was there to look at? The patterns in the sky seemed to repeat themselves. Ebbs and flows of gray seemed to weave their way back and forth across her vision. There was no such thing as color up there, or even down below in the familiar town. Her eyes slipped closed for a moment as her alarm clock went off loudly. She had awoken before it, as usual. In this instance, however, she dreaded it more than anything. Today was the funeral for a death she herself had witnessed.

She pushed the blankets off of her shoulders and slid out of her small encasement. Her entire home which sat above the Sundrop Town Tailor's shop was quite messy. To avoid dealing with tricky home-improvement methods, she had simply covered the walls in quilted patterns, giving the room an illusion of being a enlarged decorative box. Pieces of projects she had been working on were strewn around the room, she kicked some aside, not willing to clean everything up before the funeral. It didn't even matter to her, how her home looked, nobody ever went up there anyway.

Her footsteps weaved their way through the strewn fabric and to her wardrobe. The entire thing was packed full of Winter clothes when she opened it. For the past five years, she had no choice but to continue making and repairing clothes for the dreaded season. She sighed and peered at the dresses, arranged in a color spectrum of dull shades. She pulled a dress from the most outer edge of the rack, a long-sleeved black dress covered in a soft, sheer fabric. She sighed as she looked in her floor mirror. It reflected a drab and almost too unbearable version of herself. Shaking her head, she reached out and grabbed her pocketwatch and a feather hairpiece from her vanity mirror. Though they didn't do much to add color, they gave the outfit some sort of mood other than death.





Delilah's sluggish footsteps had carried her through most of the morning. For most of the funeral service, she had attempted a bit of condolence to those who were suffering more than she had. But it was difficult. There was no way to really help someone when you were feeling the same, it seemed. After a while, the whole service seemed horribly slow. She mentally reprimanded herself for wanting to be out of there. She had to stay, there really wasn't another option.

There was something urging her to leave throughout the entire service, she noticed. It wasn't just her imagination or a bit of whatever emotion was in the air slipping around, no. There was something more than that telling her to get up and leave. Telling herself to stay put became harder and harder as time went on. As the parents stood up to speak of their dear lost child, Delilah looked up to listen intently. Instead, however, her head began to hurt. She felt a quick shortage of breath, and her vision seemed to gain static. It was as if she had stood up too fast and forgot to breathe, though she had not moved at all. A sudden wash of familiarity fell over her, and she struggled to push it away. This was the same feeling that she had discovered many years ago.

To be exact, it was five and a half years since she had first felt that dizzying fear. She sat there in the front room of her shop, pinning a dress to the back of the dress model that stood in the front window. Sun spilled through the glass and suddenly a spark caught her eye. As she looked at it, the symptoms came. Everything turned to gloom, hail seemed to rain from the sky and she saw the entire town engulfed by it. She saw crops freeze and townspeople forced to huddle around in their homes, color fading from all aspects of their lives. It was terrifying, seeing all of it happen before her eyes. It was such an abstract vision, but at the same time it made complete sense. The last thing she saw was a figure, it seemed to have the stature of the goddess they had been told about in storiesWhen her eyes opened once more, she was sprawled out on the hardwood floor of the shop, a piece of fabric gripped tight in her trembling hand. From then, she went to Lily, to see what was wrong with her, not mentioning the vision at all. But Delilah was in perfect health, instructed to maybe sleep a little bit more or drink more water. Fear always remained for her.

Another month passed from that, and she had almost completely forgotten the strange 'dream', as she called it. It had been brushed aside as maybe a side-effect from too much sun exposure. The annual Summer Solstice festival came about and the entire town set out to town square to celebrate. In the middle of the activities, Delilah found herself chatting among a large group of people. And suddenly, it happened again. Her breath caught, and to the surrounding townspeople, she simply seemed to faint. Her vision was the same as it had been before, except it seemed to go on for much longer. She watched her pocketwatch tick endlessly, and the whole town became shrouded with a heavy mist. And then she saw it, the funeral, but only for a moment. Upon awaking, she was met by many concerned faces. When well enough to stand, she tried to explain the vision, saying that now she knew that something was about to happen to the town. Most simply shook their heads at her, and her voice faded. There was no way anyone would believe something like that. Only a few months later, her visions seemed to come true. Within the five years of Winter gone past already, she had seen more and more visions. And as of the past week, the funeral came as well.

The feeling faded from her, and she looked around. The funeral service had gone on as normal, she hadn't collapsed as usual. She sighed in relief, knowing she would have regret passing out at such a time. In her few moments of seeing something, she saw a familiar spot. The Goddess' spring, frozen over. She had not visited that place since she was a child, so why was she seeing it in the permanent cold that had just recently come? The soft tug of something urging her to leave seemed to let her know that it wanted her to go there.

After the service was over, Delilah slipped away through the side door of the church. She snuck around the walls, peering at the crowds of near-silent people conversing about the young child who had passed away. Her hands felt along the wall as she walked, she was following it straight to the forest. The main path was heavily used, the only path that lead to the mountain pass, one of the few entrances to the town. But hidden in the wilting trees and bushes was a small footpath, mostly overgrown with time. When coming in to the town, one might mistake it as a shortcut in, but it was Deliliah's other destination. She trotted along it, picking up speed as she broke brittle branches, clearing a path. Before long, the path opened up to reveal a small spring. Once dotted with flowers, the spring remain barren. The only life left was a large tree which sat behind it. Delilah approached the edge of the spring and sat near it. It was only then that she realized that she had lost her breath running. She pulled her knees up to her chest and peered at the frozen-over surface. What was she supposed to do now?

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

I say to you now __________________________________________May we
never________________________________________________Be so wise
As to f o r g e t____________________________________ you

【 Ѡђεяε: The Goddess' Spring 】【 Ѡιтң: Nobody 】【 Ⱦңϊиκїиg: I'm here, now what? 】
【 Ⱥcтїνίтγ: Sitting by the spring and regaining breath 】【 ωℯα╓ίηℊ?:Looking good! 】
【 Øμт Ơƒ Ċǿғғεε: Sorry about it being so long!!!! @_@ 】

[little nutbrown hare]

speech
"Blaaaaaaaaaaayne. Brother! Brother dearest! Bro! Brethren!"

Harper called as he stepped out of the bathroom, steam following in his wake. Towel slung over his hips, with another wrapped around his hair turban-style, the older Livingston brother stood with his arms crossed and his mouth wide open. Normally, if he yelled his brother's name - or a variation of it to summon him - he would hear something back by now, or Blayne would have come to see him. Thus, the lack of arrival from his younger brother meant only one thing - he was either still asleep, or he had already left to go take care of his flowers. The latter was the most likely. Although Blayne did have a habit of sleeping a lot, which was surprising considering his work ethic and other things that seemed to indicate otherwise. The florist actually took frequent naps, even though he did at least wake early.

Deciding there was no harm in checking the bedroom that belonged to his brother, anyways, the blonde padded down the hallway. The heat was cranked up, so the air was pleasantly warm, even to Harper, who was still damp from his recent shower. The house was small; it was two floors, with a master bedroom and one guest bedroom. Harper stayed in the master now; he had shared a room with his brother for the brief time when he returned from culinary school and his mother was still alive. Their father had passed away when they were young, and about three and a half years ago, their mother succumbed to a brain tumor that they hadn't even known she had. It had been a shock, and they'd had to make a decision about her condition when she was brain dead. It was something they didn't talk about much, and even if Harper wanted to, his little brother was far too sensitive for it. Although the room had remained empty for nearly half a year, eventually, Harper and Blayne knew they had to move on. Thus, Harper moved into the master bedroom, and had been in it since. (His reasoning for taking it was that he was the older brother of course).

Opening the door to the guest bedroom, Harper peeked in with wide blue eyes, hidden behind frames. The two brothers had inherited their bad eyesight from both parents, and although Harper normally wore contacts, he'd been due to go order a new pair last week and, with the recent events plaguing the town, had instead stayed in. As a person who didn't seem to let anything effect them, he was nearly completely the opposite of his brother. Despite not knowing the boy well, Blayne had cried off and on for a good two days. Harper couldn't leave him, just like he couldn't leave many of the other townspeople he wanted to support and give his shoulder to.

The room was empty, confirming Harper's suspicions. He didn't know when, but Blayne had left to go to the florist at some point. He sighed, hoping that he'd at least had something to eat before leaving. Hopefully, he would have had some of the blueberry crepes that he had prepared yesterday. They were leftovers, but it was better than his brother skipping a meal altogether. Closing the door to the cleanly room, Harper moved down the hallway to his own so that he could get dressed and prepared to go to the funeral. He hated sad things. He disliked being anything but cheerful all of the time; though he doubted there were few people that wanted to be sad.

Pulling on various layers - the only thing he had in black were his pants and shoes, and the rest was a smokey gray - he then dried his hair so he wouldn't catch cold going outside with wet locks. As he often did, he pulled up most of it in with a thin rubber band. A few strands from the bottom and his bangs escaped, but he didn't want to look too casual by leaving it down. Heading down to the kitchen, he was satisfied to see less of the crepes left on the plastic-wrapped plate than their had been yesterday. He ate the rest himself, throwing out the leftovers and finishing it with a glass of milk. Pulling on his coat, he locked the door to the house behind him and then made his way to the funeral.


- - -


The air was almost too heavy for Harper to bare. If he wasn't careful, his shoulders might collapse beneath it. He had hoped that the closure of this funeral would help the town start to recover and lighten from the boy's death, but it seemed foolish of him now to think such thoughts. The aura of the people only seemed to darken once the funeral had finished. With a quiet, unsatisfied noise, Harper turned to face the various people. He could recognize most of them; nearly everyone came to his bakery. It was popular in the town, as well as out of the town; he would often get out of city visitors.

The silence was still too much. Debating whether or not to leave, he was just about to do so after the moment's thought when he heard the violin start again. He'd heard it all through out the funeral, though he had been far too focused on what was going on around him to actually go see whom was making such beautiful music. Harper loved music; although he could not sing well at all, and could barely hold a tune, he knew how to appreciate art. He was an artist himself, even if it involved icings, cakes, and fondant in most cases.

Following the sound, he pinpointed someone he had never seen before, with sandy hair and a beautiful violin pressed near to him as he played. After a brief pause, Harper made up his mind to approach the boy. He stepped towards him, sitting down next to the stranger. "Y'know, I normally make a habit of getting to know everyone here. 'Specially ones as attractive as you." He whistled the tune the other had been playing, the only way he could possibly not sound tone deaf.

"If you're new to this town, you've come at a sad time. But thank you for playing your violin. You do it beautifully." Harper smiled charmingly, glad for a distraction from the sobbing faces of the courtyard's other occupant. He refused to flirt too much, however; he didn't want to be disrespectful.

He glanced away, momentarily distracted, before looking back to the mysterious musician. "Oh, man, I'm being rude -- I'm Harper Livingston. It's a pleasure to meet you." Harper added on a slightly belated introduction.

[saying dude]

[ o o c ] PICTURE COMING SOON LOL. [ / o o c ]

xxxx The wandering warrior felt a wave of dizziness wash over him as he stumbled through the forest he had been walking through for the past two days, he knew he should stop to take a break but he refused to do so until he reached the town. He narrowed his eyes at the thought, his brother had arrived no doubt… which meant he was wrong. Andrew growled at the thought, he didn’t like looking stupid around his younger brother. He was supposed to be a role model, wise and strong. Having absolutely no sense of direction and listening skills didn’t help him one bit, now he was lost. He was somewhere in the middle of a sea of trees, hoping to somehow find Snowdrop Town in order to find his brother and an inn to have a much needed rest. Andrew adjusted the weight of his sword on his back, the heaviness was holding him back but he would never leave it behind so he kept going without complaint. Andrew wiped the sweat off of his brow with his sleeve and looked up at the sun to see what it time it was. It was nearly noon. He sighed and stumbled down another small path.

xxxx If only Andrew had listened to his brother Nicholas, the younger male was dead set on the left path being the correct one but Andrew had been sure it was the right. The warrior rubbed the back of his aching neck and rolled his eyes at the thought of Nicholas lounging around a comfortable inn room. Andrew continued to walk, deep in thought, and tripped on a large log. He crashed into the ground face first and groaned in pain, then flipped himself over onto his back. The brunette closed his eyes and breathed heavily, his chest rising and falling as he tried to regain as much strength as possible. After a few moments he attempted to stand back up again but then the wave of dizziness hit him again like a hurricane, causing him to lie back down. Andrew rubbed his temples with his thumb and tried to breathe away the pain he was beginning to feel. He couldn’t understand why his body was acting this way; he had water just a few minutes ago so it wasn’t dehydration. He slept each night and made sure to eat, he wasn’t unaccustomed to traveling through the forest.

xxxx When the wave of dizziness disappeared again Andrew forced himself up and turned to look down the path, his eyes half-open. He saw flashes of purple and red, the sun stinging his eyes. The warrior sighed heavily and continued down the path, making sure to watch out for any more logs. The path became darker as he went and he looked back up at the sky to see clouds slowly beginning to block the light. He frowned, he didn’t seem like it would rain all day so why were the clouds suddenly acting up now? Andrew shrugged and kept going, rain didn’t affect him. Soon he began to see small clumps of snow on branches and suspicion grew on him, snow was long gone by the time spring came in these parts. It was highly unusual for the sun to not have melted everything by now. Nature proved him wrong when the amount of snow increased until everything was a crisp white. Andrew blinked in confusion as he buttoned his coat and continued on, now he needed to watch out for ice on the ground. He was quickly distracted from the snow when he noticed that there were less trees as he went, perhaps he had finally reached the town. He finally reached an opening and approached what seemed to be a frozen spring. Andrew looked around curiously and his eyes fell upon a trail on the opposite side of the spring, where a shadowy figure was beginning to approach. That was when the dizziness returned and the power of it forced him to his knees. He soon black out and fell onto the spring.

xxxx All Andrew could see was darkness, there was no light and when he reached out to grab onto something he felt nothing. Was he dead? He felt light. After a few seconds of his eyes darting around he saw a small light in the distance and he tried to call out to the light but no sound came. Andrew touched his throat and tried again but failed once more. The light steadily grew but suddenly stopped, for several seconds there was nothing. Andrew saw a flash of red and then two pairs of ruby red eyes. The two eyes slowly merged together until one single pair stared directly into Andrew’s and then, the vision ended. Andrew snapped back into reality and gasped for air as though he had been drowning. His vision was blurry and he couldn’t make out his surroundings, all he could see was white. After a few seconds, which seemed like hours, his eyes began to focus and he noticed a girl. His jaw tightened at the sight of her and he scowled, who was she? Andrew sat up and looked away, flushing lightly. Why had he black out?

xxxx “Where am I?” he asked rudely.

[Myro Gato]

D E L I L A H ____A R E T HReality Ends

CREATIVITY_____IS_____FOREVER_____

________________

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After a few moments of contemplation, Delilah's thoughts completely slipped away from her. All she could see or think about was the gray ice which encased the once flowing waters of the spring. How long had it taken to completely freeze it over like it was? A week of the eternal winter? A month of it? A year? She hadn't the slightest idea, seeing as she had not visited it in years. Never had it crossed her mind that there was the possibility of the goddess having something to do with it all. Very few people believed that. Even her, the one with the freakish visions and sensations that led her to frozen over springs. She closed her eyes and shook her head. What was her reason for visiting such a dead place again? Her thoughts drifted momentarily back to the vision, but before she could understand it, a voice broke her concentration.

"Where am I?"
It was a sudden and unexpected voice. Her breath caught for a moment as she looked up. Her eyes scanned the gray-white covered surfaces around her. Through the fog coming from her shortened breath, she saw a figure. It was a male, seemingly stricken by the harsh Winter. He sat, hunched over, next to the spring. She looked directly at him, catching his deep amber gaze. He seemed almost hostile, but helpless at the same time. His large sword and uniform-like clothing suggested that he was some sort of warrior. Though slightly afraid, she was also very intrigued. His clothes were tattered and scratched, matching his face. It seemed like he had simply run through the forest without heed to anything. It took her a moment to realize the situation she was in.

"You're..." She began, unsure of how to answer him. Her arms unclasped from each other, letting her knees go away from her chest, boots sliding in the snow. The longer she stared at his eyes, the more captured she became. There was something...about him? She couldn't quite understand what that something was. It was like she had seem him before, as unlikely as that was. Possibly in one of her visions? But that was impossible, all she had ever seen was the eminent winter that had cursed the town, the death, the funeral. She nearly winced, daring herself not to think about those things."You're at the Goddess' Spring...or...it was a spring..." The last part came out murmered. "Are you....alright? Or from around here?" She asked, doubting if she should say anymore. It would be bad if the stranger tried to go through the woods any further. Normally, it was very easy to survive out there. She had done so herself for many summers with her friends. But in the harsh cold, survival for even animals was a horrible struggle. After the years, much of the forest was simply dead.

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I say to you now __________________________________________May we
never________________________________________________Be so wise
As to f o r g e t____________________________________ you

【 Ѡђεяε: The Goddess' Spring 】【 Ѡιтң: A Mysterious Warrior? 】【 Ⱦңϊиκїиg: Who is this guy? Is he okay? 】
【 Ⱥcтїνίтγ: Attempting conversation 】【 ωℯα╓ίηℊ?:Looking good! 】
【 Øμт Ơƒ Ċǿғғεε: Ohohoho~ She should help him in to town~ 】

[little nutbrown hare]

speech
A soft, breathless giggle escaped a lumpy form beneath a large quilt. "Jiji, Jiji, stop!" Stephanie half-heartedly scolded her cat, Jiji, who was currently purring like a motorboat and rubbing himself up against her cheek. His whiskers were ticklish, and although Stephanie preferred being woken this way instead of hearing her alarm clock go off like a siren, today wasn't a day for giggling and cats. The blonde truly wished that she could just close her eyes, and everything would be over. She wanted to go to the funeral, however, just so she could obtain some closure. She had been friends with the boy who had died - in truth, Stephanie was friends with almost everyone in town - and her death had been especially hard on her. Just thinking about it made her eyes water all over again, and she had already cried a river and more since his death over a week ago. He had been such a sweetheart, and he really loved coming to see some of her animals. Although Karina, the other farmer in this town, had more animals, the boy had just loved them all.

Okay, she had to stop this. Pushing the blankets back from her, Stephanie reached to scratch behind Jiji's ears. The black cat purred at her some more, and she smiled at him. After one final pet, she raised her arms to stretch. She really needed a new mattress, but money was scarce for her since the winter had settled over this town. She had a greenhouse, but it was nowhere near as large as the barren fields which were out of use now due to the season. She wished it were spring, so that she could grow some of her favorites again - corn being one of them. She just loved to watch something so small grow into something so tall. At least she could grow some things in the greenhouse; it wasn't much, but she worked to keep up with what she could. Whatever the farmers couldn't produce, the town had to important, and that was much more expensive.

Throwing her hair up in a quick bun, she tugged on her work clothes and her tattered but warm coat so that she could go and check on her animals. She didn't have as many as Karina did because she focused much more on her greenhouse, and before that her growing, but she still had a few she needed to take care of this morning.

Stephanie headed to her small barn first. The buildings were all located relatively close together, and she liked it that way. She greeted her horse, Stephan, first. She pet him, fed him an apple, and kissed his nose before replenishing his feed and water. She checked him for illnesses, and then moved onto her cows. She was glad that one her cows had recovered from a cold she had caught a while back; she seemed good as new, and they all gave very good milk. She cooed to them for a while before she went over to her sheep. They weren't ready to be sheared again, but she made sure that they weren't getting too cold without their wool. She had a goat as well, which she milked and chatted to.

Stephanie made a brief stop at the greenhouse, to water the plants and make sure that the conditions inside of the place were alright. Nothing was due to be harvested at the moment, so there was little to do there.

Afterwards, she went to her chicken coop; after the death of one of her older chickens, it felt strangely empty, even though she had only lost one. She gathered the eggs and prepared those for shipment as well before making her last stop. She had a special building, where she bred pets. It was like a garage, but with one very large skylight and lots of padding and puppy toys. The b***h, Chelsie, was due any day now; her partner wasn't in the building right now, and had probably gone off to gallop in the snow or something like that. She fed her and gave her an all-around check up. She wanted to make sure everything was going perfectly and on track.

Satisfied, Stephanie went over her mental checklist before being satisfied that everything was done. She went back into her warm house, removing her old jacket and beat-up work clothes before taking a shower. She wanted to look nice for the funeral, but she didn't have many nice things to wear.. She only had one nice coat, and she didn't know if any of her clothing was appropriate for a funeral. Luckily, though, she found one black dress, even though she thought it was still not nice enough for an event of this importance. She pulled on the garment and then put on her coat; she hoped it was okay that it was red, but all of her other clothes had been soiled by work and weren't as nice.

After a long morning, as was the usual, Stephanie headed into town to go to the church for the funeral.




Tissue in hand, Stephanie wiped at her eyes again. Although she had managed to keep her emotions in check to keep from bawling throughout the entire funeral, she had teared up quite a lot. It was strange for her, especially since she was normally outgoing and cheerful all of the time. She intensely disliked this whole situation; everyone was so sad, and she didn't know how they were going to overcome it all. It felt awful to think about and she couldn't believe that the boy was really gone, and that the winter had finally killed someone, instead of just making them sick or hurt. It was almost unreal.

Everyone seemed occupied, except for Noah, a friend of hers. When she looked to him, though, she gave him that hard emerald gaze that meant he didn't want to be bothered right now. Stephanie blushed slightly, shivering a bit in the cold, before moving towards the churchyard gate. She wasn't sure if she wanted to go or not; she had few things to do at home, and this funeral was not making her feel motivated to accomplish things at all. In fact, maybe she could go to Noah's store - if he was open at any point for the rest of the day - and indulge in buying some ice cream so that she could go home and watch cartoons for the rest of the day. She had a feeling that very few people would be doing much of anything today...

[angelmarina]

» ☠ «Damen Alec Williams» ☠ «

» ☠ «The Mechanic» ☠ «

I played that soldier, You played king

And struck me down when I kissed that ring

You lost that right, to hold that crown

I built you up but you let me down

==== ☠ ====


'Tick, Tick, Tick, Tick.'

What was that sound? He shivered in his sleep. He couldn't quite remeber where he was or why he was so cold. Was he in his bed? He reached out for his covers but came up empty.

'Tick, Tick, Tick.'

There it goes again, that sound. It was so annoying! His back was begining to hurt. He realized he was in a very uncomfortable position. His brain was in a fog, hazy from sleep. He had fallen asleep in his workshop again. Well, more like passed out. He was quite a hard worker, he never left his workshop unless he needed food or other necessities. The person he was closest to in town was the Grocer, Noah.

Mostly because Damen was a very indecisive person, meaning he wasn't only a mechanic but a chef as well. Growing up as a child, he lived with his mother and father. His mother was a successful chef, his father a wealthy developer of famous instruments used by many people these days. He was pulled both ways as a kid, like a puppet, and he hated having to choose. Finally, when his mother sent him to live with his two twin cousins (Karina and Sakura) for sometime he had eventually came to a conclusion. He wouldn't choose.

What right did his parents have to force him into one or the other, it was his life right? He loved both, just like his parents, did they also want him to choose between them too? He never got an answer to that question.

'Tick, Tick.'

That dang sound was going to drive him crazy. Raising his head, he grabbed the closest object-a wrench he had been using the night before-and hurled it in the direction of the sound. Hearing a loud crash and the sound of a clock breaking, a very unique sound, he opened his eyes and rubbed them. There goes another alarm clock! But why did he care? He was the repair man after all! And That thing had been agrivating him for far to long, not to mention disturbing his rest.

Speaking of rest, he jumped up. Oh no! He checked the time from a nearby clock, he was going to be late! To what? His brain was still a little slow, he slowly put the pieces together as he made his way to his feet. To the funeral of course! Oh, the funeral. The funeral of that boy, that he didn't know. Unlike most of the reisdence here, he was actually pretty new. He had only been in the town for four months and he's never known nothing more than the brutal winters. Lucky for Damen, he had grown up in a very cold enviroment all around, so his blood was very thick. More simply, the cold didn't bother him.

He was always warm; the only time he wasn't warm was when he was caught off guard by the chill, which wasn't to often. He knew people had to think he was crazy. Entering outside in his work clothes, some shorts and a shirt covered in grease, he climbed the steps to his house, a small attic like building above his workshop. It was a neat little thing, contrast to his workshop which consisted of tools and parts everywhere sprawled in every direction. He quickly slipped in the shower, than looked through his closet. He pulled out the same thing he wore to his parents funeral. The reason why his question went unanswered. His father had passed away first.

He had a disease that lasted his whole life, but he chose to refrain from telling his only son, his mother knew, she had told him. A year after, she had passed away, he claims it was from a broken heart. But the doctors said otherwise. He was an orphan then, but he kept on fighting and pursuing. He lived with his aunt and uncle after inheriting all his father's wealth. But it brought him no happiness, so he used the money for more charitable pursuits and then threw himself into his two great loves. Cooking and mechanis, as if his parents could be brought back through them. Slipping on his clothes, he adjusted his shoes and threw on a coat. Hair done and ready, he made his way out into the storm. Trudging uncaringly, he snuck in the church unseen towards the back row.

He didn't cry or morn, he didn't understand how. Since he hadn't know the boy, but he did at least pay his respects, that was the least he could do. After the funeral, he made his way back outside into the church courtyard. Looking around, he took in faces and put names to each. Seeing Noah by himself, he thought he would go over. The male obviously looked unhappy, but who wouldn't be when something like this happend. Standing by the bench, he slipped his hands in his pockets. "Hi Noah." He said in a comforting tone.

He watched as the people conversed, wondering what they could be talking about. Not that there was much to talk about these days. Barely anyone left there houses unless they didn't have a choice, and festivals? Forget it! How can you have a festival in such harsh conditions, especially with everything so dead. His foot kicked at the snow lightly, maybe he could invent something to get rid of all this snow; yeah, that would be nice. He would get right on it.


==== ☠ ====

So when you fall, I'll take my turn

And fan the flames as your blazes burn