Willow Rosenberg (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
guiltapalooza) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
towerofanimus2011-12-10 03:44 am
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
He blinked though at the idea that there were films... about shakespere...]
I will see if they have them... we never had films for anything outside of educational purposes.
no subject
[Such mundane conversation is improving her mood drastically.]
no subject