Willow Rosenberg (
guiltapalooza) wrote in
towerofanimus2011-12-10 03:44 am
❝trying to talk my way out of this❞
Characters: Willow and whoever. OPEN.
Setting: Sixth floor (the forest).
Format: I slightly prefer action over prose, but I'll match whatever you want to do!
Summary: Willow's been doing a lot of magic lately, and tries to meditate to help manage it. Unfortunately she picks the worst place possible. Run into her in A or B, just let me know which one in the subject!
Warnings: Grief. Addiction recovery.
A.
[Since she got here, she's been doing magic almost nonstop. Well, not really, but it feels that way. Casual, advanced, ritual and on the fly-- she's even been teaching it, a little. Willow desperately needs to meditate and feel the Earth beneath her before it catches up with her. She can feel the temptation, feel how easy it is, to just solve everything with a burst of power and a hand gesture, maybe a well-placed word...
But it doesn't solve everything, and it won't bring Tara back. Tara, who had just wanted the best for her; who had wanted her to use magic for good things, as an expression of compassion toward the world. Not for selfish reasons. Willow feels intensely ashamed that she still struggles with this, but that doesn't mean she doesn't. She needs the grass under her hands and trees above her head to recenter herself. To find peace.
She shakes out a circle of ash about five feet in diameter, within sight of the stairs. It's a magical perimeter, intended to stop anything with malicious intent from crossing in and harming her. She hasn't had to use one in years, but Eridan had warned her about the monsters lurking in the woods. Willow uses one now, and settles herself cross-legged in the middle.]
B.
[Some time later, just as she'd really been settling into her inner space, the part of herself that stays calm and undisturbed no matter how much black magic roils through her... she hears a voice, and her breath catches. She could've sworn her heart stopped.]
Tara? [she whispers, and a moment later, she hears another trace of it echoing again.
No. She's dead. Willow lurches to her feet, leaving the small bowl of ash behind, forgotten, and rushes over to the stairs. She's breathing fast, almost hyperventilating, as she races down them.]
Setting: Sixth floor (the forest).
Format: I slightly prefer action over prose, but I'll match whatever you want to do!
Summary: Willow's been doing a lot of magic lately, and tries to meditate to help manage it. Unfortunately she picks the worst place possible. Run into her in A or B, just let me know which one in the subject!
Warnings: Grief. Addiction recovery.
A.
[Since she got here, she's been doing magic almost nonstop. Well, not really, but it feels that way. Casual, advanced, ritual and on the fly-- she's even been teaching it, a little. Willow desperately needs to meditate and feel the Earth beneath her before it catches up with her. She can feel the temptation, feel how easy it is, to just solve everything with a burst of power and a hand gesture, maybe a well-placed word...
But it doesn't solve everything, and it won't bring Tara back. Tara, who had just wanted the best for her; who had wanted her to use magic for good things, as an expression of compassion toward the world. Not for selfish reasons. Willow feels intensely ashamed that she still struggles with this, but that doesn't mean she doesn't. She needs the grass under her hands and trees above her head to recenter herself. To find peace.
She shakes out a circle of ash about five feet in diameter, within sight of the stairs. It's a magical perimeter, intended to stop anything with malicious intent from crossing in and harming her. She hasn't had to use one in years, but Eridan had warned her about the monsters lurking in the woods. Willow uses one now, and settles herself cross-legged in the middle.]
B.
[Some time later, just as she'd really been settling into her inner space, the part of herself that stays calm and undisturbed no matter how much black magic roils through her... she hears a voice, and her breath catches. She could've sworn her heart stopped.]
Tara? [she whispers, and a moment later, she hears another trace of it echoing again.
No. She's dead. Willow lurches to her feet, leaving the small bowl of ash behind, forgotten, and rushes over to the stairs. She's breathing fast, almost hyperventilating, as she races down them.]

no subject
And thanks for the encouragement, but I'm not too bummed about it. I can do plenty of other things. Healing, for example, [she goes on suggestively.] Which maybe you are in need of? Cause I am totally offering.
no subject
[Also he has NO IDEA what are you're talking about lkjsdf]
Healing...? Like... first aid? I'm not dying, though?
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[And most people find Willow at least somewhat confusing, so this is not new...] You might not be dying but you're clearly not at 100% if you're flying into trees, [she says firmly.]
And hey, here I am, a witch. Who can heal. So if you're game, I am. I'm all about the good deeds. [She's starting to get this sense that trolls don't do a lot of random acts of kindness, based on how they keep reacting to her.]
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You're talking about, magic?
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[Honestly he's kind of hoping for the second. Magic would be a pretty darn cool thing to find out about existing]
[After a second, he nods] Uh... okay perhaps it is a troll thing, but... I think I will try not to be skeptical about magic existing, for now. What, do you need me to do...? For your magic to work? [Assuming healing is still an offer on the table here..........]
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Healing is actually not one of my strengths, so do you mind if we... have a little powwow in the grass? If we sit, I mean. [She should probably try to be less, uh, herself if all of this is confusing for him.]
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[But he doesn't have that voice, so he just... bobs his head, sighs faintly, and... sits. Of course, sitting for him is a remarkably awkward thing seeing how he has to make room for his wings, and his wings are some of the worst hurt parts of him. There is a lot... trying to make it look like he's not actually in pain though... because that is what cavalreapers do in the presence of people who can help them in such a vital way. Try to look strong when they're not... Troll pride and all that]
[At least it's better once he's settled? He's definitely ready to not be hurt anymore, anyway. What was that about cultural exchange to break the ice? lskdf]
no subject
She takes a deep breath in through her nose, and finds herself sliding easily into that quiet, still place that lets her do white magic. It had helped a lot, meditating, until she'd been interrupted. She definitely needs to do it more.]
Okay, [she exhales, and then holds out her hand.] We need to hold hands, and then just... sit and be patient. But this should work, I promise. [She gives him an encouraging smile.]
no subject
[Sets his hand in hers and... smiles back, carefully again. He's still not sure what to think about this, but he suspects he'll know soon enough!]
How long?
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It depends on how injured you are. This might make you a little tired, but I figure it's a good trade off, right? I'm just going to use the energy in the E-- er, planet, to speed up your own healing process a little.
Ready?
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[But he just smiles a little wider at her apologetic look. S'okay, brosis. You do what you gotta do sometimes]
Yes, if you are.
no subject
She feels bolstered by his smile, and gets down to business. This guy, healing, stat.] Then here we go. [She closes her eyes, focuses. And... okay, she can do this. This is healing, it's good magic, she's doing good. The complete lack of guilt involved is a huge relief.
It takes a few moments, but then there's a warm, faintly tingly feeling, almost like pins and needles, wherever he's injured. Gradually, slowly, flesh knits together and pain lessens. It's almost like trying to watch a plant move-- they do, but increment by increment, so that you see the result and not the process.
White magic is all about a fair trade, equilibrium. It means not getting something for nothing; it means paying respects to the Earth. So there's a price to pay for healing, and that is energy. Willow wasn't kidding-- the more he's healed, the more drained and tired he'll feel, and so will she. She's using some of her own energy to bolster the process. Just a little.]
no subject
[So he holds back, taking a breath between his teeth and trying to stick through this... It's... kind of terrible actually! Pins and needles in a couple places is sort of annoying, but he gets it literally over his entire body. There's barely an inch on him that hasn't been bruised or cut up or broken, though the worst of it is definitely concentrated along the deep gashes across his back and sides, and around the joints of his wings]
[I HOPE she's being careful about that... draining energy thing though because... three days ago he was half dead, and three days is not really a very long time to stop being half dead. If he were human, he would be pretty much... bedridden. And not moving at all... And he's too stubborn to say anything if, or when, the drain starts to overtake whatever good she's doing. It doesn't help that he's been having trouble sleeping already. With that added on, it takes everything in him just to grit his teeth and focus on keeping his eyes open]
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She might barely know him, and maybe this will come back to bite her later, but today what Willow really needs is to do something good that she can't feel guilty for. Something Tara would've been proud of. And that spare thought, that if it were Tara here with her this would be a cinch, neither of them would hesitate, it would get done so easily because Tara is so well suited to healing and would always help someone she'd just met--
It motivates her. Willow throws her strength into it entirely and stops taking his. She can deal with being tired if it means this guy doesn't have one foot in the door to death.
A short while later, she stops, letting out a long breath and opening her eyes. She feels a bit light-headed from how much effort that took.] I think I got most of it. Any more and we'll both be useless.
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[And he... feels it, when she stops taking from him, like a relieved breath filling him up from the inside first before he exhales. He's still hella tired though, and it shows in the half-lidded smile he gives her once she opens her eyes again at the end of it. For a moment, he doesn't say anything at all, just experimenting with the turn of his wrists, the opening and closing of his wings. WELL THIS IS KIND OF... INCREDIBLE???? The little aches left over are easy to ignore, and it is only that monumental exhaustion that keeps him from climbing up the nearest tree and taking to the air again]
[Still, he's... curious... about that shift right in the middle there. So: ]
What happened...? I uh, stopped getting tired, all of a sudden?
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I kind of... used my own strength instead of yours. I didn't realize how hurt you were, [she goes on, taking on a more scolding tone now.] And you were trying to fly around like that!
I couldn't just-- leave it.
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[w h a t]
[What are random acts of kindness how does that work. Also, wow he hasn't heard that tone of voice since the dawn before his moirail died. Jesus. Slowly raises an eyebrow... before he just laughs, shaking his head. Humans sure are weird!!!]
You could have. Uh... I'm glad you didn't, though. [...hell, he can't let that tone go. The instinct to argue with it is too strong] Also, of course I was flying. How else could, I have fixed the damage he did? [Building up muscle post-maiming is important so strength isn't lost along the way! Gosh, Willow! Let him just not mention how utterly terrified he was for a little while there that he'd been grounded forever]
no subject
She also dishes out those random acts of kindness like it's her job.] And I really couldn't. I know you guys have this hang up about people doing nice stuff for you, but we humans try to help each other out whenever possible. I'd be a major bitch if I just left you like that, trust me. Totally excommunicated from the official superhero sidekick club.
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[The second bit makes him... pause again. That... actually sounds really nice to him? Helping people out when they need it is definitely a thing he's interested in doing, but... it's hard. Empathy is hard when everything about his culture tells him not to indulge it]
Why?
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It's just the right thing to do. Our society smiles on good morals, and also good personal hygiene. Not that there aren't exceptions, but they usually aren't... violent exceptions. For the most part.
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[More and more, he gets the feeling humans come from a world that he can assume nothing about. Worse, he thinks maybe it was a better world then the one he was saddled with, if violence is somehow the exception to morality... even if its people seem so... weak...]
What does that uh... mean to you, then? 'Good morals'? [Finger quotes that with one hand. Gosh, this could get really deep, maybe he shouldn't have this conversation half asleep lsjdf]
no subject
Well, it's pretty subjective. Earth has a lot of different countries and cultures-- I'm from America, not that that means anything to you, but just so you know not to assume about other humans that you meet.
Anyway, being moral is like... helping people whenever they need it, like I said. Not taking advantage of anyone, not betraying someone's trust, working hard and contributing to society. Withholding judgement and being understanding of their circumstances... Pretty much all the stuff you see on after school specials.
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[But uh... wow that sounds really nice? Kind of like what he wants to work towards after getting rid of the Condesce... Hmm )'8]
That is uhhhh... basically, the opposite. Of where I'm from. Actually. [After school specials for trolls are almost certainly hideous]
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[Yeahhh he definitely did. Willow looks a bit sheepish, but not at all repentant.]
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