#v : 𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐬 ‚ arc iii.

[wickedslip]

" I b -- bel -- belong to y -- you . " ( her prey animal )

❛ Oh, is that so? ❜ Nausicaä countered, and pivoted on her spike-heeled ankle boot to come stalking her innocence like a ravaged, obsidian-furred panther, her dark tresses gleaming from the skylights of the cavernous parlor of Rosethorns. If anyone was going to be after her, it wasn't her fucking house. She had first dibs, and she had been waiting for quite a while for her little prey animal to be so brazen.

[wickedslip]

❝  i think i just need to be quiet for a little bit.  ❞

Nausicaa pivoted toward him, and pulled out her ear buds, one at a time. She could understand about the need for quiet, for the deafening silence that was almost impossible to come by in such a fast-paced environment. But she found the more quiet it got, the more resolute she became in her resolve, and it was harder to dig herself up from the surface of the ground if she sank so far into it.

❛ If you look hard enough for it, the world can be quiet. ⸻ Even if it's seething with its voracious appetite and snapping teeth, just waiting to take its first bite. ❜

Sometimes quiet was the calm before the storm, and she felt one brewing through the onslaught of trees that all but bent to her sway.

[wickedslip]

“ i trust you.. but do you trust me?”

She stopped in mid-stride, the clacking from her patent leather shoe along the tile ceased to a halt and the sans of echo left it damn near deafening in the expansive yet empty ballroom that she hadn't quite decided on what she wanted to turn it into. The surface glowed in burnished beauty as the sun dappled the silhouettes of darkness, showing how dark the wood paneling was in its black walnut glory. Francesca, her head maid, looked after Rosethorns like a child that needed to be nurtured.

She would always reiterate to her: If you treat the house without care, the house could treat you without care. So it's best to just do the right thing in this case.

She trusted very few, and kept those few close to her under lock and key. She had enemies, and they would and could use this kind of thing against her if spoken out in the elements. Nobody was safe around the witch, and she often wondered if the trust she gave others would ever be breached.

❛ Trust is earned. You have to give something to get something, and from where I'm standing you owe me a personal effect. ❜ She smiled, slowly sauntering over to where Regulus stood. ❛ A blood vile will do. ❜

[wickedslip]

It had been a day from actual hell, or as close to it as she would have ever concocted. She had been minding her own business, pruning the herb garden to add more to the herbarium at the apothecary, and all she wanted was silence. Silence from the elements, from consumers, from everyone and everything around her. And that’s when she realized that her ears had somehow magically plugged, and she had gone deficit of hearing for the last three and a half days. Oh, by some grace of hell she had really outdone herself this time. The only comparison she could draw to was when she had received a nasty ailment of spring allergies the year prior. Somehow, this seemed worse. The voice that sounded in her mind, rather in her ears, and she nearly jumped out of her skin, for the way she hadn’t expected it.

❛ Magic does that. It wastes you away. Once it grips you by the ear, the real world gets quieter and quieter, until you can hardly hear it at all. ❜ @ashbalfour bestowed to her.

That was the first time she had ever heard anyone telepathically, or at least that was what appeared to have happened. She wasn’t hearing it from the outside; it had all come from within, and she wasn’t even sure if his lips had even moved. Slowly she concentrated on the drums of her ears and leftover residuum, practicing in a heighted notion to alleviate the blockage. She knew she had succeeded when she felt the satisfying pop, much like when you change elevation when flying at high altitude.

❛ Did you just say that, or did I do something strange? ❜ It was almost expected to be the latter mentioned, because knowing her, she one hundred percent had done this to herself. ❛ Magic only wastes you away if you take on too much power, and not have a balance for it. ❜ She slowly turned to him, walking in his direction. ❛ Are you a magic user, Asher? ❜

[wickedslip]

i can't see anything i don't like about you.

She couldn't help but to stop dead in her tracks, and she slowly pivoted on the silk of her ballerina heel, the dress twirling around her midsection in the sway of it. Poising one hand behind her to clasp it into a formed cage with the other, she always did this when she needed comfort⸻ often relying on herself to be the one to give it. When your whole life has been doctored with lies from your family, and you weren't even sure if you were human enough to deserve the niceties, it was just flat-out easier to believe in the bad things.

❛ That's because we are still getting to know each other, Z. Give it time, and I am sure that you'll wind up changing your way about me. I'm not an easy person to know or to like. ❜ But she hoped that she was wrong. She rarely was, but in this instance she truly hoped for it. She just didn't want to be anyone's disappointment any more than she already was to herself.

[wickedslip]

“ I could show you the way. “

❛ Picture it. Siciliy. 19──. Oh my god, please stop me, Stiles. I am making our entire conversation into a sitcom, and there's no help for it. ❜ She grinned, keeping one hand with its glossy, polished manicure gleaming in the beaconing moonlight just overhead. ❛ Yes, I think you'd better. I am delirious and the GPS might have steered us into a direction that is otherwise... not right? Please drive? ❜

[wickedslip]

“ i am infatuated with the private life, and with anonymity; perhaps even invisibility. ” wesboro

Nausicaä could understand about privacy and about anonymity. Hell, she might as well have become a ghost after the occurrence. �� The disastrous events that she had almost been able to smudge out of her memory, or at least a great deal of what had happened; that was the only way she would be able to cope to a degree of being able to propel herself forward. She isolated herself from the painful obstruction of emotions she couldn’t endure. Nikolai Thorn had been her world and refuge, the anchor from the raging tempest of failed parentage provided by their mother and father.

For the longest time, she was an island unto herself, and didn’t want anyone’s help, acknowledgment or be their burden. She found it was easier to just rely on her own two feet, her own shoulders to bear the internal war raging in her mind. She had graduated with honors from Crescent Harbor Prep, after burning New Salem High School down to the ground. Her emotions had been long in disrepair, with the smallest thing, even so much as a look in the wrong way, enraged her.

Narcissa had almost been scorched alive, irritating her until she had had the last straw. Narci had been her best friend, and at times she would even have been ashamed to admit that she had seen her as her very own soulmate. But that had changed. When the rug had been pulled out from her Aquazzura leather ankle boots, leaving her upended like a slighted witch hanging from the gallows, that was what had ended their close-knit friendship, and nearly their lives as she downward spiraled. Working in the very coven that was perfectly fine sacrificing the only thing that mattered to her. No, there was no remedy for that kind of betrayal. So yes, she understood about wanting to be nonexistent. Better than most.

❛ You’ll pull through it. I’m not saying one situation overrides another, but if I can get through the fire without it devouring me, I think you can too. ❜

[wickedslip]

There was no level of chill that knew Nausicaä by name, and she felt it to be a fatal flaw. Her voice softened, trying to assuage the presence of such pressure on him. Giving him a gentle smile, she backed up slightly to give him room to find his own bearings. She really could be a lot for most, and she had to work on that. Gazing intently into oculars that reminded her of her favorite beverage, and her acquired drug of choice, she gives him a winning smile, showing just how charismatic she could be. And it was natural, and most importantly, genuine — no mock displays when it came to Peter Graham.

❛ You have nothing to fear, least of all with me. I’d never hurt you. ❜ She hoped she could see that through. Betrayal seemed to course through her veins, she was unfortunately a member of the Thorn-Black horde.

❛ Please, ❜ she eyed him carefully, giving him a bit of reproofing, batting her long eyelashes heavenward. ❛ I know better than most to not touch another’s magical object. But the baby is calling to come out of hiding. You must allow it to play. ❜ She careened toward him, slowly still, to not make such stride of rushed movements, the heels of her shoes slightly clicking along the tiles of the kitchen. ❛ You know there’s nothing to hide between the two of us. Don’t you remember that one time you stayed over, and snuck downstairs to drink milk right out of the carton? You had the most adorable boxer shorts with these funny little cartoon characters on them. ❜ The apples of her cheeks enlarged, giving him a blissful grin. Oh wait, he didn’t know about that. Cat’s out of the bag now.

Sucking in her breath as he made a hesitated motion to remove the lovely object, it was as breathtaking and something she had never thought he would possess. The way it fit into his hands was perfect, as if it had been destined to be there all along. Watching how he coveted it in the welcome weight of his hands, it had keenly found a home with him. ❛ The coolest, ❜ she admitted, feeling a satisfaction that was compelled by just the sheer sensation of happiness that had overcome his visage. It appeared that he had finally become one with his heritage, and at the same time all she wanted to do was protectively let him know that nothing could hurt him now. And if anything had ever tried, she would find some way to take it out of the equation.

❛ Only one, and it’s all yours. Right where it belongs. ❜ She grinned, and gestured to the kitchen table where he could sit more comfortably to tell his tale. ❛ I am picking up on so much about it already. But I am sure there is so much more that you want to tell me. ❜

     the sudden demand raises the hairs on the back of his neck, coffee-coloured eyes flitting neurotically upwards; much like those of a deer that has just heard the click of a gun.      ❛ wh— oh. um— ❜ peter hesitates, fist curled protectively around am's rounded exterior in spite of him already being out of view. if there's anybody in the world he can show, it's probably nausicaa— but that doesn't mean he doesn't have his reservations about doing so.  ❛ ...sure. ❜

     after an extended moment of silence, peter removes the guardian from the depths of his pocket. in this form, he looks like little more than a cool collector's marble of some sort; vaguely reminiscent of a novelty crystal ball with his cloudy pink and white pattern. while he feels immediately compelled to explain it, part of him wants to know if she'll know what he is simply by looking. by feeling.      ❛ cool, right? ❜ he asks, watching closely. he wouldn't be surprised if she was none the wiser. "looots of hocum in those books of yours, kid! GOOD LUCK!", paimon had said upon learning he was going to attempt to delve into the world of occultism. despite his less than helpful adversary, peter feels inclined to agree. if people can believe they're truly predisposed to certain behaviours because they were born on a certain day, it's evident that matters of magic and witchcraft have a LONG way to go on earth.  ❛ there's only one like it in the world... ❜

[wickedslip]

The box is thing and delicate, a deep purple color that looks bruised. The thin silver ribbon wrapped around it shines under the chandeliers light, and Alice can’t help but smile at Nausicaa warmly. Shes pulled strings and made a couple calls here and there, hushed whispers for this little surprise. It’s not often common you can find someone willing to professionally dye a vintage night slip; let alone do it so well it looked original. A pink nail taps the box as she lifts her delicate shoulders, “ Don’t think anything of it, I simply saw it and knew you needed it. “ of course she did, a vintage night slip turned from its delicate white form to a deep bright plum. It simply screamed for ownership and Alice thought who better to wear the piece than the girl before her.

For once, the ominous witch was spellbound by the vampiric seer, and dazed was the only prophetic culmination that she could have possibly been in that moment. Only moments before, the box had been placed in her adroit hands, the long, sensitive fingers on either side of the presentation box. As violet-tinged as a lingering contusion, shifting them into the dusk of an endless night. Lifting her index finger to run along the intricate silver ribbon that was no more than a hairsbreadth transverse, its gleam caught her eye like the serrated edge of a finely-honed blade. Peering up at the petite goddess in cool crystalline-like flesh, she flashed a grin of her own, nothing ominous or sinister about it. Only unabridged affection.

❛ You brought me a gift. Anything from you cannot merely be nothing. ❜ she interjected. A loving play about her lips as she twisted them into a delightful conjecture of mirth. ❛ Need. What is it that I need, Alice? ❜ She smiled and couldn’t help but to carve her sharp nail into the silver, watching it come away in wisps.

Nestled deep inside of the box, lay the most insubstantial, flimsy material that she had ever seen— and equally the loveliest night slip she had ever witnessed. It was… as though it had been crafted by hand by some unseen god, and she didn’t have a thing in her wardrobe to compare it to.

❛ You’ve outdone yourself. The color, the weight of the material, the silky seduction of it all. ❜ Twisting in her chair, she didn’t quite remember moving, but she was immediately within Alice’s arms, hugging her slight form to her. A genuine draping of herself.

[wickedslip]

[ WARM ] sender finds the receiver has fallen asleep somewhere and places a blanket or jacket over them. 

Turbulent dreams were not lost on Nausicaä, and it would appear that the closer it had gotten to Death Season, the more she felt it. October was a trace of the past; Halloween and her birthday had since wrapped up a good three weeks ago, and with that came the depression that she always seemed to drag behind her like a cadaver. One day she wouldn’t feel so lost, so despondent. But she found every time she wanted to latch onto a new emotion, it was one of rage and fear in equal measure. One day her past would catch up to her present undoubtedly, and she’d be forced to endure the soiled crown on her head by way of her father. She didn’t want the responsibility that he mapped out for her, but it just wasn’t as easy as telling him no. She wasn’t just a prisoner, belonging to her family. She was a prisoner in her house by means of keeping them out. Salem was her prison because she needed to know her surroundings to be able to move quickly if the need would ever arise that she’d come under siege.

When she had awoken the next day, she found herself wrapped in a blanket that had been strategically placed by Francesca on the back of the sofa, and she had no other evidence that would transpire that it had been given by Zeev. They had stayed up late into the night sipping beverages until the sun started to come up. While she didn’t like the sun beating down on her, the indication of it was the promise of a new day— a day that she was safe and not in the grasp of the cult. She was a survivor and being near Zeev, and near the sun, meant that she was alive and not shackled in chains.

❛ There you are, ❜ she responded in a sleepy voice, blinking a few times to et her bearings. Sitting up slowly, the blanket fell, as she placed her slender legs down, standing on the shining oak floors like a doe walking for the first time. ❛ Look, I am nothing without coffee first thing in the morning, sunshine. Would you like a cup? ❜

[wickedslip]

❛ well, someone's cranky today. ❜

❛ Lupe, darling, please stop talking to yourself in the mirror and come have coffee with me, ❜ She grinned, unable to help herself. ❛ I got you a pumpkin spice latte, and as you might have surmised, there is no pumpkin in it. Starbucks is one big lie. What are we gonna do about that? ❜ She shook his cup at him before handing it over, grin perfectly intact.

[wickedslip]

“ You look like you’ve seen a ghost, is everything okay? “

Rounding from the side of the parlor and down the long corridor of mirrors and photographs on either side of the darkened gallery wall, Nausicaä had truly thought she was losing her mind. Or rather, well on her way to being committed to Mclean Hospital if she didn't make some lifestyle changes. She felt as though all color had been lost from her body, and her hands began to tremble. Even the air around her was akin to some unknown substance, its fragrance polluting the vicinity around her. The strangest notion was she hadn't smelled that particular perfume in over fifteen years, when she was eight years old and Niko had only been a year into the world. She knew without even the slightest of hindrances that it was the scent of her departed grandmother on the maternal side of her family, Gaia Thorn. So perhaps she had seen a ghost, and she was here to send her a message.

❛ Ready to do a séance, sun king? Because it's either that or I'm getting committed today. ❜

[wickedslip]

" In my own manners I saw what you call the devil with my two eyes, innocence incarnated who decimed thousands and corrupted everything she can touch, fooling them in games~ You make me think of her. The same prestance of power." ( from Hades)

❛ Well to be perfectly honest, if you heard or saw me call him anything other than Satan. Lucifer. Deucalion. Father. Dad. Padre. Loathsome abuser. Brother killer. Child Murderer. [ . . . ] then you are sadly mistaken. Don't worry though, I've called my mother much, much worse than that. ❜ Innocence died screaming, and Nausicaä would never not hear the cacophony of blurred echoes belonging to Niko that would haunt her for eternities to come. Was anyone more than a good rompecabezas? ❛ Someone had to be the one to do it. You know, lure them into the lion's den. If anything, I should be thanked for my infallible service. ❜

[wickedslip]

you're not afraid of a little bit of dark because you are the dark.

Sitting at Rosethorns at the séance table nestled between the apothecary and the herbarium, she couldn't help but to agree with Zeev. She typically didn't procure the cavernous room unless it was for séances, but lately her eyes had been plagued from the brightness of the open apothecary. Nausicaä could only wonder if it was some new, uncharted power in the realm of her territory that was starting to make itself known.

❛ It's not that I'm afraid, exactly, but I'm definitely suspicious as to why it's happening the way it is. ❜ Delving forward to place her hands around the steaming mug of black tea, she needed something stronger than her typical lavender to get this going.

❛ If I'm the darkness, then you are the light. The only light that doesn't obliterate my sight right now. ❜ Pulling closer to this apollonian deity's seat, she inched closer until she was in front of the sun king, directly in his line of sight. ❛ Is there anything wonky going on with my eyes? Do you see anything weird? ❜

[wickedslip]

Did he know that she’d move the earth for him if it even dignified a semblance of ease for him? If anyone had their red door swinging wide open, it was his brother for daggering him to the eternal abode of slumber that he should have never been dealt to begin with. She wouldn’t bring it up, she held no qualms against the rest of the Mikaelson family, but she would always prioritize Kol’s happiness because he had simply deserved better. She was growing soft for him, she knew that. Was it embedded in her DNA, this resolute sway that she was subscribing to? Perhaps not, but it didn’t matter in the end.

If anyone could pull off flannel and make it look like he was dressed to the nines in couture, it was Kol. She could feel the thoughts resonating within him through their wavelength, and while chaotic and feral, she felt a righteous smirk move her to an accord, biting the lower plumpness of her crimson lip.

You can eat me instead. Just remember that if I die in your arms, you have to make it up to me by figuring out that whole necromancy bit for me.

nausi was a dream on this earth. he knew that speaking out loud could make someone come to the meeting point right away. not that he was embarrassed to wear the same thing as stefan salvatore, he knew he would wear this outfit like a charm, it was the fact that he was sharing a dinner with his girlfriend, his brothers' ex and his brothers' little puppet. although, now, stefan rose in his esteem; the power he had had over klaus, one he shared with him, was something he would like to see again and again. he wanted to take his mind off things.

i'll wait patiently. although, i might eat the person who drops off the mail. remember to take some paper so i can look like something after my little lunch.

[wickedslip]

“ You look like you’ve seen a ghost, is everything okay? “

If there was one thing Nausicaä wasn't proficient with, it was perceiving that her past, her far-reaching past, had caught up to her to the present, in the most uncanny of ways. This déjà vu, this tedious familiarity, was something she hadn't been expecting yet wasn't sure how to proceed to move from it. ❛ Everything is [ . . . ] fine. It looks like I need to figure this situation out, but nothing I can't handle. ❜ She smiled finally, even if it was just a ghost of one.