something wicked {this way comes} ele/pyth

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something wicked {this way comes} ele/pyth Sept 12, 2014 23:59:59 GMT -5

Post by ᴥ on Sept 12, 2014 23:59:59 GMT -5

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T O B I A S W U

{ and you thought the lions were bad
well they tried to kill my brother;

He wished she would just say it. The mother who'd once treated him like a prince, who now only spoke to him when in need of a favor or chore. Tobias wished she'd tell him just how much she hated him. It'd be easier than her cold looks, the way she avoided touching him or the grimace she bore when she had to. It's not my fault! The boy he'd once been would scream, how bad it wanted to beg for his mother's forgiveness and to attempt to restore what his family once was. He wasn't that boy anymore, Tobias doubted he'd ever be that boy again. Reconciling his family, having a relationship with his mother were of little importance now. The only man he still cared for had been gone for two years, so far out of reach Tobias didn't know if his heart still beat.

"Tobias I need wool." Her voiced seemed to have cracked with age, or it was the cigarettes she'd taken to smoking. The butts littered the sink, a constant foul-smelling cloud lingering about the house. Perhaps this would have bothered Tobi had he spent any time at home. For what? The boy thought bitterly, picking at his nails. Will you be smoking that too? Or perhaps knitting your favorite son a sweater?

"Yes mother." He didn't ask where to get such a thing, didn't even give his mother a second glance as he threw on a jacket and stormed out of the house. He could hear the click of a lighter as he shut the door behind him.

Spending two years upon the streets did little to help him find such a place. No matter the white-walled, silver spooned buildings he wandered into, they held little more than a knit sweater or a bracelet made of colorful yarn. Tobias began to wonder if his mother's odd request was some kind of goose chase, a feeble attempt to keep him out of the house as long as possible. All she had to do was ask. It wasn't as though he spent more than an hour in the place a day, but perhaps even that was too much. Even the sound of his footsteps reminded her of the son she hated, the one she'd rather have been taken. Tobias knew she wouldn't be as distraught, wouldn't have shut Mordecai out like this had he been the one kidnapped. Were the stories she told for him and Tobias just a lucky onlooker? Was he the second child that they'd never wanted? Whatever the case was, the boy didn't blame her for loving Mordecai more ~~there were already plenty of sins she'd committed~~. Besides, he’d come to loathe himself so greatly he’d be a hypocrite hating his mother for doing the same.

Pulling a dark hood over his head, he wandered. Shoulders slumped, the boy braced himself against the harsh ocean winds, wondering if Mordecai was doing the same. Whether he knew that Tobias’ life had gone to shit since he left and just how much his little brother needed him. No matter how long he was gone, Tobias had no intention of giving up. No intention of forgetting the family who was quite possibly the only one who truly cared about him. ~~As much as that thought stung~~ . His shoes dragged across the pavement, turning down twisted allies and narrow streets. He didn’t much care about finding the wool now. If she wants is so bad she can get it herself. Tobias wanted to go home, but such a thing no longer existed.

The store was nothing significant. Something Tobias would have passed by had his mother not planted the seeds. The Wool Shop it was direct, Tobi liked direct. He pushed open the heavy door, assaulted by the musty smell of wool and of faint perfume. It was nothing big, nothing special, but something about it made his skin crawl. As though eyes were upon him from every angle. Nonetheless he shook the thick hood off of his head, straightening the disheveled locks absentmindedly. Never in his life had Tobi seen so much of one thing. It was astounding, almost captivating. He wondered just how many animals had been shaved, how many hands had touched the wool before it made its way to these shelves.

No. Such a thing was childish to wonder. What did it matter? They were here now, the animal’s coats had regrown and those who made them long since forgotten. He grabbed the shittiest, ugliest wool he could find making his way to what could only be the counter. ”Just this.” He murmured, suddenly self-conscious and unsure. Tobias was never one for socialization, even small transactions like this. He could already feel his palms grow warm, fingers stumbling upon the bills he attempted to hand to the keeper.

Shit.

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Last Edit: Sept 13, 2014 0:01:11 GMT -5 by ᴥ

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something wicked {this way comes} ele/pyth Sept 13, 2014 14:17:37 GMT -5

Post by ✌ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ on Sept 13, 2014 14:17:37 GMT -5

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A T R O P O S F A T E

This morning she had pressed her thumbnails into the the eyes of a boy named Jared Stone until his eyes had exploded in his skull and blood had swam over her thumbs and nearly up her arms with the force of it. He'd screamed beautifully, she had an idle fear that the restraints would snap and send his arms around her neck in a hold so tight that dear old Death might even be jealous. However the pain had made him sorely weak. He'd flopped about a bit like a fish on dry land and stilled even as his mouth moved like he was crying. She'd ruined his tear ducts, he couldn't. She had laughed at that. It was funny.

Then she'd taken her knife and raised it high into the air, one hand wrapped around the hilt, the other pressed against the end and brought it down, over and over into the boy's chest. It made an odd tearing sound as it went through the skin between his ribcage. She'd made note of it to compare it to her other victims. Maybe she'd tell Decima about it later. She wasn't sure yet as she wrapped the body up in some old sacking and sent it tumbling into the canals for Bastille Styx to find and deliver to the Underworld as per their monthly agreement.

Then she had walked home and had a cup of tea. She did not take sugar but did delight in the smallest bit of milk.

After the morning tea break, Nona had told her that it was her turn to watch the shop and seeing as she knows that my insanity is fabricated I could not spit in her face and shake a dead ferret in front of her eyes to get out of it. So now she's stuck here, watching the shop door, working through some knots in a clump of wool. It seems that the afternoon shall pass in this way, wool sorting between customers until treat of all treats, the most perfect of all customers enters the shop.

The sisters have been waiting for this particular customer for a very long time. Not because they particularly care for him but it's because they know something absolutely wonderful. They know who he is of course, all of the underground world do. He's been a bit of something to raise a glass to ever since it happened, near two years ago now. He and his brother that is. You don't often come across one so noble that it takes the three meant to take two to only be able to take one. We're certain he must have lost a lot of blood in that transaction.

Atropos watched the boy angrily move about the shop from her place behind the counter. Oh he was beautifully mad, like a perfectly lovely piece of furniture that's been told it's useless after only two uses. She would be angry too, she supposed. After all, she was so much more than the wood that was used to shape her.

Her fingers flew nimbly over the pile of wool in her lap, disentangling even as she watched the boy pick up an old bit of wool that was from a man who grew them lovely and proud in his yard on the edge of the district. He had chosen a thicker strand, when it was used the holes would be bigger and the wearer would feel the cold far more. Usually such a wool was only used to make a throw for a couch o an extra blanket on top of three others. This boy didn't seem to care.

She barely moved as he dropped the wool on the counter and announced that it was everything. She stilled her fingers, resting her elbow on the counter and her chin in her hand, staring intently at the boy who was beautiful in the fact that he was in so much pain. She adored the little things that boys did to be so lovely, pain being at the top of her list of things that she found agreeable, just above them taking their shirts off by grabbing the back and lifting it over their heads.

"Oh lovely Mr. Tobias, we know what you need," she said softly, a grin spreading slowly across her features.

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something wicked {this way comes} ele/pyth Sept 22, 2014 22:29:54 GMT -5

Post by Python on Sept 22, 2014 22:29:54 GMT -5

Nona Fate

She swallowed a sip of warm tea, and imagined that she was swallowing the soul of Jared Stone. Her black ink scratched through his name, which melted to the color of rust over the flame at her fingertips. The thin material shriveled and flaked until it was scarred black by the heat, blacker than Jared’s decomposing corpse and blacker than the putrid perfume of death that surely wafted through her sister’s lungs. Not mine, she mused, indifferent eyes dancing with a reflection of fire and smoke as her death sentence for Jared Stone turned to dusty ash and decorated the inside of her jewelry box. Her body was not physically polluted by the scars of handling the dead, but that did not mean Nona Fate was free of its taint. Snip the seams and peel back the layers and one will find the skeletal handprints of death himself riddling her spirit. She reeked of it, she was polluted down to her cold bones, and she couldn’t be bothered to see herself as anything but great.

She closed the box of ashes and returned it to its perch on her shelf. Another sip of tea with honey tickled her throat. It was easy to lose oneself to the mundaneness of it; collecting names, identities, sketches, all whilst she knitted her wool and sat behind a wooden desk with a cup of tea steaming by her fabric. Relaying information to Decima, listening to Atropos’ reports and confirmations, discussing business, whether innocent or sinful. But she could never forget, not once, that she was the mastermind behind their deadly charity. She was the bitter child left with the least after her parents’ disappearance. She was the one with no control, initially. She was the one who knew exactly how to utilize her sisters’ talents. A month to herself was all it took. No parents, no rules.

Nona’s shop, Nona’s rules.

She discarded her teacup and tidied her desk. There would, of course, be no evidence of her having even known Jared Stone. As far as the District was concerned, Nona was not associated with the boy in any way. Their home was just a wool shop, a family business withering in a homely corner of the district. It was inconspicuous. It was practically welcoming.

Yet she often watched her customers tremble as they entered.

The current shift belonged to Atropos, as demanded by Nona’s handwritten schedule. She had always been the most organized of the trio, only besting Decima by a smidge. But nobody could beat Decima’s punctuality, not even a businesswoman like herself. She descended the staircase with the intent to gather some wool for an unmet agenda, while Decima scoured the district for her latest assignment and Atropos manned the shop door. Her footsteps pressed individual creaks into each step, as if the house groaned at every last one of their sins. Then she was greeted by a lovely surprise – a customer sporting an unmistakable face. Two years, has it been? Two years. How oblivious must've been to discover their shop so late.

Her sister was the first to speak, and Nona couldn’t help but interject. ”Tobias Wu,” she cooed, sauntering to join her sister’s place behind the counter. A bundle of wool? That was his only interest?

He still didn’t know, did he? Just how badly his fate was caught within her bare hands. His brother’s, too. ”Wouldn’t you rather have something else?” Her lips curled, and her calloused fingers slid the sad bundle of wool off of the counter and into her palm. Nona always knew the better way of catering to her customer’s needs, and she would have fun with this one.

Atropos seemed to be enjoying herself as well.

”Certainly wool isn’t the only thing you’ve been searching for?”

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something wicked {this way comes} ele/pyth Oct 6, 2014 3:06:13 GMT -5

Post by ᴥ on Oct 6, 2014 3:06:13 GMT -5

[presto]

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T O B I A S W U

{ and you thought the lions were bad
well they tried to kill my brother;

One became two and Tobias found his hands shaking. Their tones were self-assured, almost taunting. They knew something Tobias didn't and they were thrilled. Instinctively he patted the sweatshirt's cloth upon his chest, searching for any remnants of a name tag that could have given away his identity. It didn't surprise him to find none. The eyes upon his neck were now directly in front of him, the dreamy air of the shop suddenly suffocating. Tobias' mouth was dry, a cold sweat building upon his brow. Searching. The word had no meaning to him now, a mindless act he repeated daily. A hopeless act, as all he ever found was disappointment. It was impossible for a boy as strong as Mordecai to disappear off the face of Panem, yet he did. Not even the most dangerous of areas he'd happened upon wielded anything but close calls and depression. But he would not stop looking for his brother, not until his last breath. Even if his training had fallen by the wayside to do such ~~it was not like his parents cared whether he remained a career.~~

When he swallowed it felt as though he were eating a cotton ball, eyes dancing between the women as he stood in silence. Searching. "L-listen I only need-" ~~my brother.~~ His voice trailed off, the fear he had not felt since that day creeping up his throat and into the corners of his eyes. He was no longer in the eerie shop but bleeding upon the floor, kicking and struggling as men restrained him. The pain was immense, consuming every bit of him like a fire consumed a forest. It would have been so easy to give in, to go limp and let the pain fade away, but he had to get to his brother. He didn't care that he was small and weak, that he was nothing compared to his big brother, he wanted to be with him. For once, to be his hero. "It'll be okay." The words were barely audible to his own ears, still managing to draw forth an unfamiliar moisture to his eyes.

You said it would be okay, Mordecai. You promised. Okay was an almost laughable term. Nothing was okay anymore, not Mordecai or Mother or Father. Not even Tobias. Had his big brother really believed things would work out in the end? That they would escape the terrible men and return to running along the beach like nothing had happened? How different of a boy Tobias would be, freer, still captivated by the wonders of life that he now knew meant nothing. Just like the tales his mother once told, it was not for him. It was for Cai and some trick of fate had taken him away, leaving Tobias in a world which he never belonged. But it will be okay.

There was something in their voices, the cruel taunting within their tones as they looked at him. The gleam in the women's eyes as though regarding a new plaything with lust, gave him the feeling he was in a far more dangerous situation than he'd ever been. Not even the slums, the crime-ridden areas of Four had given him such an intense feeling of dread. His muscles tensed, fists curling into his palms as they had when practicing hand-to-hand combat nearly two years ago. His muscles had long since turned lean after days of walking and hours of running, the boy no longer possessed the strength he had. There was no doubt in his mind that the women could take him down. Tobias was terrified of having to fight for his life again, but he did not run.

He had run from his problems for far too long now.

”Wouldn’t you rather have something else?”

Mordecai.

”Certainly wool isn’t the only thing you’ve been searching for?”

Mordecai

Tobias never spoke without thinking, never let himself go. It was far too dangerous, he could upset Mother or feel too much. Feeling was a poison, something he had come to despise. Most days he avoided it, dragging sand-filled shoes along the shore and thinking nothing. So numb to everything around him he wasn't upset when the sun had sunk below the shore and all the other kids had gone back to their homes and he remained. There was no point going home, ~~mother had already locked the doors,~~ and so he pressed his back against a scratchy oak post. Protecting himself from the evening breeze, he'd pull his hat over his face and sleep. He liked the ocean much better than home. After all, it was was the last place he'd been happy. Once upon a time.

"You know where he is." The words were louder than he intended, no forethought going into the order or the tone. It was rushed and excited, like a child eager for his birthday presents. "You know my brother." It wasn't a question, just as the shopkeeper's words had not been. Something gave him the feeling his asking was as good as taking a shovel and digging his own grave.

But maybe, just maybe, Mordecai would be there too.

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[/presto]

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something wicked {this way comes} ele/pyth Oct 7, 2014 2:21:49 GMT -5

Post by ✌ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ on Oct 7, 2014 2:21:49 GMT -5

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A T R O P O S F A T E

Her element was the sea.

The sea of blood, that is, that often swelled out of the way and parted around her wherever she went. There was nowhere in the District that Death did not follow Atropos Fate. She was a walking omen, a ticking clock to measure the length of one's life by. She was the Grim. She was never noticed unless she wanted to be, excellent at blending in and not at all, all at once. Often times she was happy to let her customers know just when she was coming for them so that they might be ready for her. She enjoyed a fight, enjoyed toying with her prey before going in for the kill.

Nona's approach was often more twisted but more direct at the same time. Atropos adored her older sister desperately and her insanity lent to it. She would do much for her sister's approval, come hell or high water. Often times she found herself reaching out unconsciously for the hem of Nona's shirt or the tips of her fingers, still the ugly little duckling trailing behind the gorgeous swan, Atropos considered herself the Igor to Nona's Doctor Frankenstein.

But Atropos was the one who got to have all the fun. She was utterly bonkers after all. She didn't have a need to explain her actions because no one expects an explanation from a madwomen. They expect the unexpected and Atropos was keen to defy that by ding exactly what was expected of ehr and in this case, Tobias Wu was definitely expecting madness.

"Oh yes we dooooo, Tobias Wu," she said with a hiss, fingernails clawing into the counter top as she rose from her seat to lean hungrily towards him. She gave him the full effect, twitching her head to the side as if she had a nervous twitch, letting her nails fill with scraped paint to the point of skin tearing and blood being let. She wanted him to understand because Nona's insanity was more subtle, she wanted him to get just how much they had the District wrapped around their little fingers.

Still, she knew how it was to lose a brother. It had effected the lives of the Fate sisters greatly after all, when their older brother was lost at the market that fateful day. She ran her nails down the length of the counter, Nona would chide her for that later, there was no doubt but Atropos would plead insanity and not pay attention. Benefits.

If it weren't for the loss of their older brother, there would be no insanity to plead because there would have been nothing to cause it. There would have been no house arrest for the sisters and nothing to make them so twisted. Their parents would not have gone off to their dooms in search of a dream that Atropos had spun for them, the wool shop's main export might still be wool.

Atropos had a soft spot for the Wu brothers. Their story touched her heart.

She leaned over the counter, hair hanging in her face as she moved as close to Tobias Wu as she could get. She studied him, eyes taking their time in her project, letting her gaze wander over him thoroughly. She wanted him to feel violated, to be afraid of the little girl behind the counter. She loved the power that it gave her. Licking her lips, she raised one hand up, nails bleeding and crooked a finger, telling him to come closer.

"He's in," she began, voice faint as if what she was telling him was very much top secret information, not to be shared with anyone, "The very last place that you will look." A sly grin spread across her lovely features and she sat back, placing her hands spread across the bench top.

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something wicked {this way comes} ele/pyth Nov 22, 2014 2:43:02 GMT -5

Post by Python on Nov 22, 2014 2:43:02 GMT -5

Nona Fate

The satisfaction was invigorating. She studied every detail of Tobias Wu’s handsome visage, peering through the blonde follicles that shifted in front of her eyes. She anticipated the creases in his forehead and the lights that would blink in his eyes. Like a basement light bulb, they flickered on, illuminating the once oblivious depths of his troubled mind with a new discovery. Feathers tickled her heart as she witnessed this transformation, and she eagerly awaited the words that would follow. ”You know where he is,” he said. She was delighted. ”You know my brother.”

Of course we do. We know everybody.

Atropos leaned and bared her insanity like a dog on a leash snarling at its prey in warning. Nona took hold of this leash, squeezing it in her right hand at the irate screech of her claws scraping into their counter. She was scratching the paint and ruining its surface with scars. Perhaps she would paint over it later, and scold her for her destruction. Or perhaps it was best left unvoiced and forgiven – this was a special guest, after all. Nona could feel the urge to get carried away bubbling in her chest. She needed to remain cautious; there was a bargain to be struck, and she needed his fear and desperation to arrange it. She needed every string of his soul wrapped around her calloused fingers. Atropos could deliver a show, but she was merely the opener. Nona was the headliner. She was the star.

She let Atropos have her fun. It was a shame Decima was absent and unable to join in on their enjoyment, but it would make an interesting tale for later. That is, if she even allowed Tobias Wu to leave this shop.

Mordecai Wu was buried alive in depths his brother could never hope to reach. A long lost sibling, how deliciously heart-wrenching and familiar. It left a bitter taste like stale vomit in her mouth. There was a chance to recover him, to return him to his broken family and relieve their mother of her worries. The Fate family was not so blessed as this. Prometheus might as well have dropped from the face of the District, the planet, and life itself. Along with their parents, his legacy would fade. Their family name would be replaced by secret insanity. The fault? In their parents.

Tobias should consider himself fortunate.

She sauntered around the counter, footsteps in unison with the ticking of the clock on their wall. Her gaze remained frozen against his face until she was behind him. Eyes swept across his hair, the back of his neck, the ridges hiding beneath his upper torso, the fabric of his shirt, the gentle curve of his spine. What a lovely, handsome puppet he was. Worthy of becoming a statue, if his expressions weren’t so telling of his emotions.

She took one, two, three steps forward until her lips reached his ear. Her insanity was always well-hidden. ”We can tell you where he is,” she said, ready to start plucking strings and knotting them between her fingers. ”But everything comes with a price.”

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something wicked {this way comes} ele/pyth Feb 2, 2015 6:37:14 GMT -5

Post by ᴥ on Feb 2, 2015 6:37:14 GMT -5

[presto]

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T O B I A S W U

{ and you thought the lions were bad
well they tried to kill my brother;

The whole of his body was twisted into knots as the woman leaned closer. A hungry glint in her eyes as she singsonged words that Tobias dare not believe. There was no skirting around the subject, no gentle pulling on his leg as his hands turned into fists within his pockets. They knew where his brother was and for all he knew they could damned well be responsible for taking him. Rage clawed through his throat like lava through a volcano and it was all he could do to reign in the emotion threatening to run rampant. He wanted to hit the women, hit the both of them, because his life was ruined. And just maybe it was their fault that he spent most nights on the beach, their fault that he no longer thirsted for anything but his brother back. (Would Mordecai even recognize him? Did he even remember who he was?)

There was no doubt within his mind that the both of them had changed greatly within their two years apart. The women spoke of him in present tense, at least Tobias could draw comfort from that. His brother was alive. Somewhere. He had to be. His brother dying was too painful a thing to even ponder so he sucked on his lip and regarded the women through slitted eyes. Every hair on the back of his neck stood straight, shivering although there wasn't the slightest breeze making its way into the store.

Her eyes should belong to a madman, he decides as her head makes a violent sideways motion. Tobias answered her with stepping back in spite of himself and doing all he good to draw his small frame to its biggest height. Perhaps they had been waiting all these years, waiting for him to stumble upon his store and to take him like they'd intended. Something in their tones told Tobi they'd known he was coming for a long, long while. The first speaks again, words that bring the boy closer in spite of himself. He's in...

It wasn't going to be that easy. Nothing had been that easy for a long, long while. Not watching his mother deteriorate or hearing his father's broken sobs. Not the wandering around District Four, hoping he'd stumble across his brother but knowing he wouldn't. A child-like excitement forces its way into his cynical expression and he holds his breath. He waits for an answer he would give anything for. He's in...

The last place you will look.

Tobias feels like crying. She leans back with a satisfied smirk and the whole of his body feels as though he's about to burst from how tightly his muscles are tensed. It wasn't that easy. He shouldn't have hoped. Hoping was what a child did and Tobias had lost his innocence long ago. The world's colorful cloak pulled off to reveal a decaying, black reality that smelled of blood and heartbreak. Tobias was not a child and he should not have hoped, but he did so anyway. And, ripred, did it hurt all the more.

Shouts rest on the tip of his tongue, barely contained by two years' practice. He'd be a fool to attack the women, a fool to think he'd ever get away with such a thing but the thought remained. That's what they deserved for this torture. (People never get what they deserve. Tobias didn't deserve to be alone and his brother didn't deserve to be missing. They deserved happiness and yet here he stands in the presence of madmen.) And when the other speaks his anger only burns the back of his throat tenfold. But everything comes with a price.

As if he didn't know that. He had no faith in the kindness of strangers, not after they'd nearly killed him. Everyone was out for themselves it seemed, from the tiniest child messily demanding its next meal from tired parents to these women preying on a child desperate enough to see his brother to agree to any terms. It was an unspoken truth between them as he walked forward on shaking legs, laying a fist on the counter.

"And how do I know that you aren't the ones who took him? You know an awful lot about me. This could all be an elaborate hoax to finish the job you fucking failed to complete." And he cannot contain the anger, no he could not reign in the emotion seeping from his tone. It shakes with rage and fear and something the boy can't quite identify as he continues. "You can help me or I can leave right now it makes no difference to me." ~~Lies lies all lies.~~ "But I will find my brother one way or another and I won't sell my soul to do it. When I find him we'll be free together, you hear me?!"

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the m o o n controls the t i d e, it could cause you to d r o w n