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
[Willow listens to this description and tries not to giggle.] You've got it bad, huh? [she asks slyly.] He sounds like a neat guy. Very memorable. [She can't help but wonder how similar he is to Eridan's Sollux, but it's not really a question she'd expect Aradia to have an answer to, so she holds that to herself.]
no subject
[And now that dark red blush is getting stronger]
Well, hopefully you'll get to meet him soon and find out for yourself.
no subject
[She's still smiling, pleased to see Aradia so obviously attached to someone.] I'll have to look out for him. I'm happy that you have him while you're here.
no subject
[More happy blushing]
Well, it was a nice surprise. And I'll keep hoping that yours will come here too. Who knows what this place is capable of, right?
no subject
--Oh, you mean... That Tara will show up? [Her smile turns a little melancholy again, but it's a lot more accepting and calm than the sheer grief she'd been battling earlier.] No, that's okay. She deserves her rest. I know from a reputable source that death is a lot more traumatizing to the people left behind, and resurrection is the hard part. I miss her, but... I know she's happy where she is.
But I appreciate the thought. Really.
no subject
[She gives a slight shrug]
Well, I expect this tower will do as it wants. But I suppose it's different for those who just stay dead.,,and in worlds where it's less of an everyday occurrence.
no subject
Is it really that common where you come from? You've implied a little, but I mean... it seems wacky for resurrection not to have serious consequences.
no subject
Well, not normally. The game allowed it because we had dreamselves...in my case, I don't think I was truly myself until I revived on Derse. But I suppose being able to commune with the dead, and that I was able to exist and be dead at the same time at one point, makes me a little more open-minded about the possibilities.