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* Plot Informaton for Scelt

Scelt is a Territory in turmoil and peace is tenuously held together by the Sceltic Queens. Rivalry between the Clans errupted into horror for the Territory that resulted in many dead, on both sides, and culimated in Clan Sheane being outlawed in the Territory. Further troubles plague the Territory in a variety of manners - Landen villages are raided, Courts are attacked, and no one seems to be safe.
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Author Topic: Spiderwebs of glass  (Read 467 times)

Description: attn: Molly

Offline Brigid Clery

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Spiderwebs of glass
« on: Oct 23, 17, 04:14:58 PM »
Fall 192

Brigid read the letter from Morgan again. The paper still held the faint scent of him, something she had been trying to figure out how to preserve but so far, to no end. Her fingers traced the words he had written, his distinct penmanship as familiar to her as everything else about her older brother. She knew the letter would say nothing that it did not already, but she read it again anyway. She could hear the words in her own mind's voice as well as his. She could recall the sound of him perfectly. Night, she missed him.

She had tried to lose herself in her focus on Ewan. Between that and holding her boundaries with their parents, she had little else to busy herself with. Right now, with all three out of the house, she just felt... alone. The nights had been the worst. Her nightmares came and she would wake and Morgan just wasn't there. She had taken to sleeping in his room wearing his shirts. At least then when she woke up in a panic, the scent of him surrounded her, the echo of his presence wrapping around her mind. She rarely went back to sleep after, instead focusing on happy memories of him and Ewan, and occasionally, in a really dark mood, her fallen sister Deirdre.

The windows had already started to frost over, the cold Autumnal winds leaving no doubt that Winter was close at hand. Tucking the letter away in her pocket, she walked to the window and pressed a fingertip to the cold, pulling it to make a line, and then another, and then another. Time passed as her vision blurred, stolen away by her thoughts. Her hair fell into her eyes, having only half heartedly pulled it back. She was still wearing one of Morgan's shirts and her pj pants, thick wool socks pulled onto her feet with no shoes.

When her eyes came to focus, she stared at the window. She had drawn a large intricate web covering almost the entire window. "Hell's fucking fire," she said, realizing what she had done and sliding across the floor to get a towel to wipe it clean. She knew there would be endless lectures if her parents saw it, or worse yet, one of the neighbors. Before she made it back to the window, there was a knock at the door. She froze. Had someone already seen it? What would they say to her parents? And how would she navigate it without Morgan?

Slowly, as if each step was leading her to some dire fate, she padded her way to the door and opened it, praying silently that it wouldn't only be a little bad and not an insane amount of bad. 

Offline Molly O'Kerry

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Re: Spiderwebs of glass
« Reply #1 on: Nov 27, 17, 08:05:15 PM »
A web on frosted glass captured her senses and halted Molly’s determined step. Behind her the guards she told to wait by the road looked on worried that she was perhaps about to fall into a vision. She often did so after ceasing amid any action. Instead, the witch was caught, awed by the intricacy of another’s pattern that in its lines carried traces of dream. She could almost see the threads in what etchings were made for their space. Properly woven in spidersilk what secrets would be found in its divination? This was an answer she resolved to uncover. Her stride resumed just before the men bound to her protection were about to seek getting their Lady (by paycheck and by loyalty in equal measures for different reasons) somewhere safe til she was released by premonition's call. Sometimes it was moments.

Lady O’Kerry, Mistress of Scelt’s Hourglass, arrived at Brigid’s door just before it completed its opening arc. Stormy eyes smiled and shone with pride at sight of her Opal Jeweled sister newly found. It always pleased her to see someone as themselves not as who they had to be in order to travel the world safe. Unfortunately, on their island it was wise for almost no Black Widow to show the full glory of what made her. Corrupted dogma made the otherwise righteous folk of their shores fear a caste seen everywhere else as a blessing profound as any Healer, Priestess or Queen. All held special duties in Mother Night’s plans and their Territory denied witch’s their futures. All over the nation witchblood bloomed and longing ghosts lingered searching for lives they’d lost, certain never to be found.

Angry as she’d been at the Clery’s for how thoroughly Brigid was kept from the world she saw that the sacrifice of her timely education and socialization weren’t entirely in vain. She restrained less of truth than the others would and it would be a good example for those young enough to unlearn their unfairly placed shames. “Well aren’t you just a revelation of something lovely, Brigid Clery?” She addressed the girl in a manner so far from formal she was quite glad Clark was nowhere near to act a witness her breach of protocol. It hardly seemed like a good idea to approach a sheltered witch like a rigid stranger. “I’m Molly O’Kerry and I’ve long hoped to meet you. To do so now is a pleasure.”

Gesturing towards the window Molly went on her speech quick, but her enunciation  precise enough for easy following of her shared thoughts of which there were many. “Luck's all through your tracings, Lady Clery. It's no wonder my morning’s tea leaves promised joy sharpened by fear. That I’ve already found at first glance. You've left a touch of dreamweaving in your shapes. Such is the most dangerous of our arts, even journeying the Twisted Kingdom’s paths can be safer if practiced by anyone not taught thoroughly its intricacies. There are many among our kind even outside of Scelt who err on caution’s word and avoid it altogether even when fully trained to its subtleties. I see great talent in you, and a natural knack for an oft neglected and beautiful talent. Please, promise me you’ll be careful. You'll never know your full potential if you lose yourself in the making before you've learned to lay your heart's creation true. It isn't negotiable, the being careful, but I promise to be fearless when it comes to our lessons together if you'll only experiment with supervision or as directed in private study."Molly didn’t exactly wait for an answer before trailing into her next thought.

“Oh Mother Night! You’re dressed just like I be when I’m doing my best work.” She paused for a beat and clarified for honesty’s sake. “Well, my best Craft. Most of my best work involves arguing and heated debate has more than a bit of image tied to the knack of it. To be honest with you I’ve always needed someone else’s help with that bit.” Shaking her head the gesture was accompanied by a shrug that said. what can you do? Exhaling a puff of breath that turned white in the autumn chill, Molly grinned, a blush rising to her cheeks. “Sorry, I ramble when I’m excited, and I’m very excitable when it comes to recruiting minds like yours. May I come in? We can meet outside and walk your fields if that’s what you’d prefer. Wherever you’re comfortable talking. I promise there’s no worry I won’t do my share.” Finishing with a self aware chuckle Molly shifted and waited for Brigid to work through the wave of information that came at her with the same intensity with which a shot of Sceltic whiskey hit an empty stomach.
hope is a thing with feathers

Offline Brigid Clery

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Re: Spiderwebs of glass
« Reply #2 on: Dec 02, 17, 12:22:49 AM »
Brigid stared in open awe at the Black Widow who approached her. She knew who she was by sight and scent and sound, Morgan having described her in such detail and so often she thought that she might be dreaming for a moment as the witch of her mind's creation materialized before her. Too shocked to say anything proper, Brigid said nothing at all, simply plucking Lady O'Kerry's words from the air and holding them close, as if she could press them between pages as surely as leaves and wilted lilies.

Brigid's hand rose to cover her mouth when the Head of Scelt's Hourglass Coven spoke of the dreamweaving in her traced web on the window. She didn't know she could bring forth that kind of Craft from the dreaming to the waking, didn't realize that was even a possible thing that she could manifest. Morgan knew she had visions in her dreams, some that she could make sense of and still more that she couldn't. The flame haired girl child, quickly coming into her own as a woman but trapped in the in between of time and responsibility, shunned too often for what she was at her very core, flinched when she was told it was dangerous, surely as if she had just been snatched from the stove's heat and told it was burning hot.

She didn't know how to be careful, didn't know anymore than she knew how to crawl out of the dreams when they came. The only solace she found lay in Morgan's calming words, his arms wrapping tightly around his sister when she could not still her own mind. She's never thought of herself as rare, well not at least rare beyond possessing a snake tooth beneath her nail, rare beyond the sister of a brother who shared her forbidden caste, like a caste granted from the Darkness could somehow be wrong or bad or forbidden,  rare in that she and Morgan shared the burden of the death of their sister between them... but not rare like Lady o'Kerry meant rare. Not rare like flowers in the snow or the smile of a stranger once they got close enough to know the truth of her.

When she asked to come in, Brigid nodded mutely, stepping back into her home to allow the other Black Widow entrance. She closed the door behind her and stared at it for a moment. Molly O'Kerry was in her home.

Molly. O'Kerry. Was in. HER HOME.

She turned and offered the other witch a nervous smile. "You know who I am." It was a thought she had held since the Black Widow first named her on sight and had held inside her mouth until this moment, refusing to interrupt the living legend that now stood before her. "Tea? Coffee? Can I get you anything, I mean?" she offered awkwardly, realizing she should have done the moment the Blood Opal Black Widow appeared before her. "I don't know how to control it," she blurted out, the other thing that had been clawing from behind her teeth to be set free. "It just happens."

Offline Molly O'Kerry

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Re: Spiderwebs of glass
« Reply #3 on: Dec 16, 17, 10:50:09 AM »
Crossing the threshold into the cottage, the Coven’s leader took note of how dream’s weaving clung to certain items in the house and marked them as particular favorites of the young, uncommonly talented Clery girl. She couldn’t help but wonder why Desmond came to her for his readings instead of Brigid. With her, he shared the bonds of blood and family. After jumping to the conclusion that he preferred her prognostications because the professional nature of their interactions likely made him feel more secure that she wouldn’t lie to spare his pride or feelings, Molly finished her cursory study of the humble abode and turned her gaze’s full attention upon the younger Black Widow. “Of course I know who you are,” the elder witch said before taking a seat near the window etched in webs.

“Even if it wasn’t my job to keep track of these things your jewels and talents make you a difficult person to miss.” In response to Brigid’s offering of refr, shment Molly shook her head. “I’m fine, thank you.” Barely had she declined the nervous girl’s hospitality before the young witch’s thoughts shifted to matters of earlier moments. I don’t know how to control it, it just happens, The words spoken in innocent confessions might’ve chilled another sort of woman. Molly? Her nerves were iron and her courage reckless in its scope.

There wasn’t any getting around the fact that the Clery siblings were strange. Molly appreciated that in Morgan and she found the same to be true of Brigid. She was, caste excepted, a rather normal specimen. It was a boon when it came to winning over the minds of Scelts who thought all sisters of the Hourglass were sirens of madness and beasts of poisoned lust. However, it often left her feeling somehow less than her wilder sisters who’d never known need or ambition that forced them to shape their predatory instincts into a palatable package. Lady O’Kerry, who favoured oversized sweaters in earthen tones and warm cups of tea to strange cauldrons of deadly tonics was, by her own design, as non threatening as a Black Widow could manage.

Few long lived witches outside of the island who shared her caste could understand why the fiery Sceltic girl worked so hard to fit herself into a mold not meant for a soul like hers so touched by prophecy and promise. She envied the unbridled passion and talents Brigid wielded without fear or shame. Dreamweaving was one of the most dangerous and least understood gifts of Craft known to their people; it was no surprise Brigid did it with the same thoughtless ease with which others walked or talked.

“That’s not uncommon, even for Black Widows not naturally graced with a knack for it,” Molly said, her voice certain and kind. “That’s why education and sisterhood is so important for our kind. We need each other to navigate the wondrous roads known only to our caste. Now that you know, it will be important that you do your best to monitor and curb your instinct to make thought reality outside of your lessons. You will slip, everyone does, but what’s important is to be mindful of your urge to create. As your education and experience grows that will become easier and your weaving more solid and less likely to take turns beyond your waking mind’s control.”
hope is a thing with feathers

Offline Brigid Clery

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Re: Spiderwebs of glass
« Reply #4 on: Jan 07, 18, 03:56:44 PM »
Lady O'Kerry named her Jewels and her talents as things that made her hard to miss. Was that good or bad? It's not that the people who lived near them didn't know what she and Morgan were, but they certainly didn't advertise it. Or at least he didn't want her to. He didn't seem to mind it being a known thing about him when he was seducing her friends into his bed, something that Brigid found endlessly annoying about her older brother. There weren't many things that brought out her temper and made her want to throw things at Morgan, but that was definitely one of them.

Brigid sat on the couch across from the Head of the Hourglass Coven, pulling her legs into her chest as she did. She tilted her head and laid her head on her knees. She neither understood nor even noticed that she was already treating her as if she was someone long known and not a new acquaintance. In a way she wasn't. Molly O'Kerry had existed in her brother's life, and therefore, she had existed in hers. So close were the siblings that everything Morgan did impacted her, whether he intended it to or not.

She could hardly believe she was sitting across from Molly O'Kerry. She had achieved legendary status in Brigid's mind when she had saved Morgan's snake tooth, milking the infection to ease the pain and helping him heal. Morgan had taught every step of that care to Brigid, who was both careful to always follow Morgan's instructions and to lecture him to follow his own instructions. Sometimes she swore she took care of him just as much as he cared for her.

"If I don't know how I do it, how do I learn to control it?" So long had it been only her and Morgan, no other path occurred to her as an option. Even knowing that Morgan had gone to talk to   her about the possibility of education beyond what they had had access to so far, her mind did not follow that trail to lead her towards the possibility that the Lady could be talking about her future or her education. Her fingers traced patterns over her arm, but she was careful to not put any intention behind them or to lose her focus and start to allow her Craft to seep through her fingertips and into her skin.

Brigid stared at the other Black Widow. "I'm sorry, I just can't believe you're here."

Offline Molly O'Kerry

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Re: Spiderwebs of glass
« Reply #5 on: May 01, 18, 07:38:13 PM »
Brigid acted the part of a girl far more than most witches her age. It riled Molly, the way she’d been stifled and shoved into a box not meant to contain a Black Widow of any Birthright, let alone the Opal. Would she even be able to serve as a strong teacher for those witches that found the Coven’s burgeoning academy who stood below her Blood Opal? The consideration was one she hadn’t the time for in the presence of the insecure daughter of Clery.

Instead of borrowing trouble, Molly focused on the astute questions posed by the natural young dreamweaver who’d curled up on herself. The tendency to make oneself as small as possible was a trait common to many of their caste in Scelt. They who were born to be servants of magic and madness were not forged of small dreams. Even the lightest Jeweled among them was a force of nature stranger than any Queen, more distant than any Healer, and sharper than any Priestesses’s sacrificial blade.

Black Widow’s were Mother Night’s answer to many problems, and source of plenty themselves. What else could be expected of those gifted with the ability to touch, and manipulate, the very leylines of fate?  While she was still considering how to explain to Brigid how to not do that which she was made to do, the younger witch gushed about Molly’s presence in her cabin. While logically aware that she was the Head of the Hourglass, and personally responsible for saving Morgan’s life, she hadn’t been expecting the younger Clery sibling to be something akin to starstruck.

What was it with their family? Was there something about her psychic scent that was to them what lavender or honeysuckle were to bees? It was a strange place to sit, beneath the adoring eyes of Brigid, knowing precisely where she’d been under Morgan’s hands days before. Molly blushed then and played it off as humble gratitude though she was far from modest. Being her own best advocate, and a bit Machiavellian, was how she’d come to hold the title she’d hold into with every fiber of her being.

“Well, you’re going to have to get used to my presence, you’re going to be in it day in and day out soon enough;” Molly quipped with a grin. “I find your inquiry about resisting the pull of instinct to be way more interesting than my occupying a seat beside your window. It’s….”
Lady O’Kerry trailed off, considering the spiderweb in glass Brigid had so idly brought to life. She could’ve almost sworn she saw a crystalline spider navigating its strands.

“Well, it’s unfortunate but control won’t come easy because it is the ultimate goal. First you must acquire awareness of the gift. There is a bit of the Twisted Kingdom in every weaving, and so you’ll begin by learning to recognize when its song of dreams unbound tries to slip your fingers.

From there you learn to start and stop the process under the guidance of a fully trained member of the Coven, and then, after many years, full control will come. I promise it’s not as daunting as it sounds. Why is it that you ask about control of your gift, instead of use or mastery of the Craft? It makes your talent sound more punishment than promise
.”
hope is a thing with feathers

Offline Brigid Clery

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Re: Spiderwebs of glass
« Reply #6 on: May 05, 18, 02:12:49 AM »
Brigid's eyes danced with unspoken emotion. Could Molly tell? Could she simply look at her and know everything she was thinking and feeling? Morgan seemed to be able to see right through her (at least, most of the time). But maybe that was just because he was her big brother and he had known her for her entire life. But then, so had her parents and they didn't seem to know her at all.

"I'm going to be around you day in and day out?" she asked, her nose wrinkling in confusion. A heart beat passed as Brigid seemed to decide something. "Really? Really really? That would be amazing!" How could she possibly look at the Head of the Hourglass as anything less than she was? If anything, getting to know her and learn from her (!!!) would only deepen Brigid's awe of her. Still, she supposed she needed to pull it together and not be quite so moon eyed. Morgan might be embarrassed if he knew how she had behaved.

She sat up straighter at the thought, defiance of a brother who wasn't even there to see it. Well. That was just fine. Let him be embarrassed. He could have at least written her to tell her Molly was coming, even if he didn't want to tell her how he was.

Her lip stuck out in a petulant pout just thinking of her brother. But when faced with a question of why she went to control, she hesitated before answering. "Isn't that... like, our job? As Black Widows? To control it? Like we can't just show our Craft, or even talk about it really. I don't know what mastery might look like other than never having it hurt the people around you. "

Clearly Molly meant something else. But Brigid didn't know anything else. The love she had known from her parents started to fade when her nightmares came, and then seemed to be lost entirely when her snake tooth grew in, confirming the absolute worst for them. And then of course they had lost Deirdre, which was her fault, and everything only grew worse. If she could control it, would things go back to how they were?

It felt like a betrayal of Morgan to even think such a thought, but especially with him gone, she was so terribly alone. Only Ewan made her smile.

"Is that not what you do, Lady O'Kerry?"

Offline Molly O'Kerry

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Re: Spiderwebs of glass
« Reply #7 on: May 05, 18, 02:24:33 PM »
There were moments, only moments, where the years Molly spent in Dhemlan being properly educated could make her forget the horror of what it meant to be a Black Widow in Scelt. Brigid’s brilliant gift had caused that reality to slip away in the excitement of her talent’s discovery. The way the girl spoke about the ultimate goal of their training being control instead of wonder and mastery brought it all rushing back. The world around the Clery girl sharpened. It was as if everything in that small cabin came into hyper focus. A feral, many legged piece of her soul wanted Molly to howl and show the witch before her to sing the same wild song. Instead she gave a small, thoughtful nod that didn’t agree to anything but instead conveyed a thoughtful pause.

“Do you think Mother Night made Warlord Princes only to see them control the unbridled lethality of their being? Or Healers so that they might understand the body but never manipulate it? Are Queens born to know the land but never feed it?” Molly fired off question after question. Her tone was kind and her passion evident in every syllable.

“Darkness t doesn’t give us our talents so that we might strangle them. We are wild things, Lady Clery. Scions of the old ways. To every caste, every discipline of Craft, and every Jewel there is a purpose. That purpose is not to survive but to thrive and live a life in pursuit of our true selves.

Black Widows? We hold power over prophecy, poisons, the mind, illusion and madness. You and I and our sisters of the Hourglass are all weavers of dreams. The point is to find your strength and shape it into something that serves your soul as it serves the world you wish to better. Self discovery doesn’t happen when the self is chained.” Adjusting in her seat Molly schooled her face to wear a reserved, hopeful expression.

“The Hourglass is opening an Academy to help you, Morgan, and others like us to do just that. Scelt isn’t in such chaos by chance. Our nation suffers because she is out of balance. By subjugating our kind the island has unbalanced the natural order of things. We did not do this to ourselves, it has been done to us. But change won’t come from those who see us as a threat. To better our home, we must reclaim our rightful space in society. That starts with education.

The land on which this dream is to be built is already ours.”
hope is a thing with feathers

Offline Brigid Clery

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Re: Spiderwebs of glass
« Reply #8 on: Aug 31, 18, 04:28:40 PM »
Brigid listened with rapt attention as the Blood Opal Black Widow challenged her understanding of her purpose and future within the Hourglass. She did not interrupt and did not lose focus. Every fiber of her being was straining to absorb Molly's every word. Is this what she had taught Morgan? Her brother had a confidence in himself and his Craft that Brigid rarely seemed capable of manifesting. She had thought it was because he was older and more experienced, or even because they were just different people with different personalities.

But what if part of it was having learned from this Black Widow? Would Brigid come to believe as she did? Would she really be able to leave her fear behind her and embrace her Caste and calling the way Molly had?

When she spoke, her words came slowly as if she was still trying to make all the pieces fit in an extraordinarily complex puzzle. "Warlord Princes need to protect, and sometimes that means to kill. Healers of course need to be able to heal and Queens to feed the land." She paused for a moment, pulling on the sleeves of her sweater. "Is it really so simple? Am I a scion of the old ways? I've never thought of myself that way."

Being a Black Widow had cost her Deirdre's life. It had cost her the warm affection of her parents. More nights than not, her night visions sent her running to Morgan for comfort. He had always been the only one to understand her. It was Morgan and Brigid against the world. But what if it didn't have to be.

"I want to learn from you," she blurted our awkwardly. "Morgan has done the best he can, but his Craft is a different flavor than mine. I want to grow. Get stronger. Better. I..." she trailed off before sheepishly finishing her sentence. "I want to be like you."

Offline Molly O'Kerry

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Re: Spiderwebs of glass
« Reply #9 on: Sep 12, 18, 09:34:30 PM »
There's no sense in trying to be anyone but yourself, Brigid Clery.” Molly said, her voice kind. She reached forward and clasped her hand over the younger Widow's in response to her admiration

None of us were t made to live in imitation. So, what is it you want to be? We're messy mixtures of virtue and sin with dragons in our veins.  Being good takes work that's never done, love. One has to think about these things.

Her brogue was rich and her eyes were alight. There was a smile on her lips so genuine it transformed . her bearing. At the edges of her words was the sharp confidence of a soothsaying weaver. Molly O'Kerry didn't just believe in a brighter tomorrow she'd seen its path and she would move Scelt down its course one way or another.

Because things had to improve. They just had to. She'd seen too many girls mad on the gifts that might have warmed the whole Realm if only given a chance to shine.

So, Tell me what thrills your soul and makes you proud. Clark and I? We'll help you build a life with it. That's what teachers are for - spinning dreams in apt minds because we hope to see them grow better than we.

Molly placed her hand back in her lap after giving Brigid's an affectionate squeeze. She studied the little sister of the man with whom she'd been reckless. To say the years had thoroughly transformed the man who somehow bore their caste as a matter of his birth would've been an understatement.

Considering the members of the clan she knew well, Molly realized there wasn't an unattractive person in their number. The private notion made her grin widen. Wasn't that just the way? Desmond, Morgan and Bridge had all dipped their cup a few extra times into the well of fortune's favors. They'd all known their tragedy but each of the triad with whom she was close was uncommonly singular .

The matter was one she decided she'd weave a web to see the purpose of later that evening. Mother Night didn't toss so much power into such a condensed grouping of individuals without having some plan, and some price, in store.
hope is a thing with feathers

 

 

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