#ROSELLE SWANSON. / v. the moons witch

[moonsmourning]

@loveheir: [ calm ]   your muse telling mine to  ‘ just breathe ‘ . - [ konan & roselle ] konan's honed senses picked up on the trouble before her amber eyes could see it. the blonde woman coming down the sidewalk was a walking neon sign of distress. smoke break cut short, she drops the cigarette between her lips, crushes it under a thick boot while beckoning the woman over. "step inside my shop if you need to hide," she murmurs once they're close enough. she's still scanning the streets, for signs of dangers or threats. after several minutes she steps inside her shop and softens her stance and expression. "im going to bring you some water. try to take some deep breaths. if you need to leave, the back door is just through here." she gestures to the open space behind the front desk, where several tattoo stations are set up. past those is a large black door, the words exit hovering above.

usually roselle was several steps ahead, usually she knew when they grew too close to her location. but it seemed they had gotten smarter in their advances and caught her off guard. roselle's coven were not pleasant people, they were wicked and cruel and wanted her to be their puppet. and if she didn't, they wanted her dead. still, after all these years, they hunt her down, hoping she'd 'come to her senses' and join them, even after the horrible things they had done to her family. but rose was stronger than them, her connection to her magic was more secure, which was perhaps why she didn't worry about them as much as she should, which was definitely why she ended up in the situation she was in now.

her thoughts are louder than everything around her as she moves with purpose, barrelling down the street with horror in her eyes. it must have been noticeable, given the fact a total stranger reads her like an open book. book or not, the witch doesn't think twice about ducking and rushing into the shop. while the other woman stays outside to survey the area, rose looks around, scanning for any type of danger. when the store is revealed to be a simple tattoo parlour, she relaxes somewhat, turning just in time for the woman to approach her.

leaving right now wasn't an option, they'd find her running around the streets like a headless chicken. instead, she nods, lips parting to speak. ❝ thank you... if it is alright, i'd like to stay for a little while. ❞ her french accent isn't too thick, but definitely noticeable. gesturing to the small entryway to another part of the store, roselle offers a scared smile. ❝ may i hide in the back? ❞

[soulsballad]

@sociieties: “ roselle…? ” moon calls softly, seemingly appearing from nowhere. by the time she spots him, moon sits comfortably with her cat, of whom he’d forgotten the name of, offering the animal a small piece of fish he’d brought with him. “ do you remember, ” he begins, gaze soon moving onto the woman, “ when you asked me to take away the magic from the people in your coven? ”

making themself aware or not, roselle knew whenever moon was close. it wasn't like the soft coolness that tickled her hot skin, unlike the warmth that spread to every crevice of her body when she was too cold under the moonlight. no, moon's presence was like a hit of pure power, it made the magic within her bones vibrate with an intensity that could easily make her vomit or unwell if she didn't know how to handle moon magic in the first place. instead, she feels a rush of energy as they appear, turning slightly from finishing up cleaning up after dinner to see the being feeding her cat. she greets him back with a hum of acknowledgement as she puts the dishes away. his question is heard fine and well, but she doesn't begin to answer it until she's strolling back into the same room as him.

❝ yes, ❞ roselle finally responds, tone void of any emotion, ❝ why? ❞ for them to appear and suddenly bring it up meant something she wasn't too sure she wanted to know. but either way, she, of course, had to hear what they had to say. moon was, after all, the very being who was responsible for the power she wielded.

[moonsmourning]

@st4rsinclined: ❝  he  has  been  using  his  magic  for  entirely  selfish  reasons.  ❞ *shaddix & rose

sitting up on the chair behind the counter with folded legs, roselle tosses another walnut into her mouth and chews, happily bouncing her crossed leg while reading from a rather large and old book spread across the counter. it's about the same size as the cash register, and she knows shaddix is no doubt annoyed that she's got her own personal things scattered across the shop. but she's smart enough not to leave them in places the average person would look. her gaze flickers through the pages, soaking up the knowledge being spilt, but also still being active in the conversation with shaddix as he grumpily restocks shelves.

❝ he's a man, ❞ roselle points out, not once lifting her attention from her book, ❝ most of them are selfish. the fact he's a witch is just lemon juice to an open wound. ❞ that was the only way to properly describe malachi. he could be selfish, but he could also be selfless, it depended on the day, and his mood, really. and how much magic he used and how badly it bounced back. still, it's no surprise that shaddix has never really liked malachi, and she's not too sure the witch likes the demon either. they only seem to tolerate each other for her sake, which she found amusing. she's still unsure as to why malachi sticks around, not even amelia can seem to understand why either.

when she finishes reading a page she pauses to lift her head, giving shaddix her attention. ❝ he can barely use his magic as it is, so trust me, he's definitely not a threat. not to me, not even to you. ❞ no, and god bless malachi if he tried to be a threat to shaddix. roselle was on the opposite end of that once, she recalled being forced to relive her worst nightmare over and over, being keenly aware that someone else was in the nightmare, watching, listening, waiting to pounce. she was just lucky to be able to cut the connection and locate him. and she was lucky that he wasn't a total jerk, he happened to be a nice guy, who was just given the short end of the stick. since then he's refused to feed on roselle. she understands why, she'd seen glimpses of his past and it wasn't pleasant. uncrossing her legs, rose moves to stand and strolls around to approach shaddix. when she's by his side she reaches out to pluck the book he was going to place on the shelf out of his hands, grinning at him. ❝ surely you aren't threatened by him? he's like an annoying feral racoon. ❞

[soulsballad]

tag drop; original characters. ( p. 1 )

[soulsballad]

❝ i don't know, ❞ comes another honest response. she knows that with moon near her the power she wields is something out of a comic book. she feels like she could singlehandedly destroy the entire planet, and she's also vaguely aware of the fact moon is not at full strength when he's here, in this form. but he is the moon at the end of the day, who is she to fight to keep something that rightfully belongs to him? half the time she doesn't even want it. plus, as a celestial being, her power did not compare to his, as hers was a tiny fraction of his.

when he begins to speak as though he is going to do as she once asked, roselle straightens up and leans back in the chair, watching him wearily. truthfully, when she asked back then, she was hyperemotional and still learning how to dial down the wave of power she feels whenever moon is around.

she's a moment away from telling him that it's alright, that he doesn't have to do it, but his question lingers in her mind and she's quite frightened that she already knew what exactly her answer was. ❝ whenever i think about the climax of this all, of them winning and murdering me, of me winning and doing whatever i need to do, i never see myself surviving. ❞ that is the truth. she's always had an inkling that is the reason why death keeps her alive for now. it's merely waiting for the right time.

“ do you believe you would be able to stop me if i wanted to take it now? ” it is a simple challenge, one moon shops no true interest in testing. he remains still las he asks so, gaze again moving, on roselle’s cat once again. head tilts at the thought, gaze then flickering towards woman as an arm is laid a ross his torso.

the moon, unlike others, is not as spiteful as he should probably be. he is not quick to anger, nor hard to please. his questions are only that, curious of where she may stand. currently, he’s come to determine roselle thinks herself better than those of her kind — morally, if nothing else.

she would be right to think so, too. unlike the others, roselle does not intentionally taint what is given to her. she does not thoughtlessly trample on the gift he’d given her and those like her.

“ i believe you, ” such words are spoke softly, bone tired and empty. “ i understand your exhaustion, i do. ”

a moment passes them by and moon drops his gaze to his fingers, touching thumb pad to index finger and watches as dust falls onto his person. “ you may be the last of your kind if i grant your wish. do not misunderstand me, if i do so, this will be for me, not for you. i am tired of my people abusing what i grant them; i tire of them breaking my heart. ” a beat, and moon’s gaze returns to roselle’s face, expression soft and blue. “ i am on no one’s side — i pity them as i pity you. what will you do to ease the pain? ”

[soulsballad]

there is something very innocent about moon. roselle can't quite put her finger on it, but there is. when he talks, she listens, despite looking completely out of it. when he finishes she shifts upright, tired chocolate hues fixating upon him, revealing years and years of torture that the average person wouldn't have received in a lifetime. ❝ i have killed before. it is not new to me, but i do not do it for my own gain, unlike them. ❞ she's killed a few of her own kind, as they have killed her. the only difference is that death was on her side, not theirs.

her head dips and hangs, the entire conversation is soul-destroying. yet roselle doesn't give him the disrespect of shutting him up or cutting him off. ❝ i don't know. ❞ she doesn't know if slaughtering them all would give her the peace she craves, she doesn't even know if taking their magic away would be enough.

what she does know, though, is the answer to his last question. it prompts her head back up so they can lock eyes once again. this time she doesn't look quite as tired, but instead absolutely confident in what she has to say. ❝ because even with an entire coven hunting me down i haven't retaliated. i just keep running. and running. and, mon dieu, is it tiring... ❞ in every meaning of the word.

there is also another reason, but she falls quiet before voicing that. ❝ you would take my magic too. when i knew i didn't need to keep defending myself and protecting others from these pests, i would willingly hand it over. ❞ all she has wanted was a normal life, after all.

“ how would it not be, miss roselle? ” how far would she be willing to go for peace, moon so frequently wonders. what is and isn’t punishment / what should and shouldn’t be considered punishment? “ should i clip a bird’s wings, would you not consider that punishment, either? ” to take away that of which one was born with — how is that not punishment?

never had moon said they’d not been deserving of it, but that it would be such a thing.

moon is not blind. he sees well enough his people, his creations have strayed from their paths. they disappoint him deeply because of it, and truth that had been spoken before would would be stated again, if needed.

and yet — she pleads her case with no regard for what it might do to the others or even to him. ( perhaps she does, perhaps roselle had thought of it, but speaks nothing on it. moon does not know. he does not care to know. )

“ they want to do so because you have defied their ways, no? ” they ways are not right, moon will acknowledge that. “ you go against what they claim to stand for, therefore you must be eliminated. this is what they think, is it not? ” still, it is not right, and the moon relents, settling again in his seat as gentle gaze finds something else to settle onto. “ these people have lost their way, but to take their magic would be to clip their wings. it may even kill some of them. if they die, it will be on your hands. ”

this wouldn’t be the first time he’s considered such a thing / wouldn’t be the first time he’s actually followed through. a slaughter of hundreds, thousands, and even millions because they abuse his blessings. punishing one usually means to punish all — such a thing is a tiring act.

“ if this evil you speak of is all they know, who or what might they become without it? ” he waits for no answer. “ i would kill them all, little witch. would that bring you the peace you search for? if, in that case, you remain alone, what stops you from becoming as evil as them? ”

[soulsballad]

❝ i was genuine, ❞ roselle responds curtly, moving to sit on the sofa chair opposite moon. she falls silent again, thinking over what he asked. did she have to answer that? was it not already obvious? hands fall onto the arms of the chair and she sinks back, mentally exhausted. she's exhausted because of them. she's exhausted because of the magic they wield. she's exhausted because of the moon. the magic they wield is too tricky and difficult, and it's bred some pretty nasty worshipers.

eyes fall shut slowly and a breath is inhaled before she speaks up. ❝ when did i say it was punishment? ❞ sure, she wants the entire coven punished, but not by taking their magic. that wouldn't be punishment, but a gift. ❝ they want to kill me. they want to take my magic and murder me. then they'll find more people with the same kind of magic as us and do the same to them. they're evil, moon. they use their magic for badness, they take and take. we're not supposed to do that. we're supposed to keep balance. ❞ and what they do is certainly tipping the scale too closely to the other side. ❝ does that make me any different from them? that i want them to simply stop destroying? ❞

just as she does, moon watches the woman carefully, head tilting the slightest bit as she enters his space, not quite spotting any emotion in particular from her. strange. initially, his response is silence, one that meets her question head on as if he hadn’t been the one to bring up the topic at hand. he was the one to approach her, not just this time, but every time. slowly, fhe moon blinks at woman, attention now fully on moon watch, fish easily set aside for the cat. ( moon refuses to show face without offering soem mind of gift — he knows better. )

“ were you just asking because you were curious, or did you seriously want me to? ” he doesn’t bother beating around the bush, casually motioning her to sit with him. the last time they spoke of this, moon apologized; this time, he won’t. “ either way, the answer is yes, ” and head cocks of so slightly to the right, seemingly waiting for her to say or do something. he could, yes. he could do so rather easily at that, underneath certain circumstances. “ but i must ask, if i were to do this for you, how would me doing so for you make you any different than those you want to punish? ”