• This section is for roleplays only.
    ALL interest checks/recruiting threads must go in the Recruit Here section.

    Please remember to credit artists when using works not your own.

Realistic or Modern ˗ˏˋ TRUST FALL. | ( *starboob & ellarose. )

For the audience above watching, let it be known that Valentine Thorne is a rotten liar. She dangles the promise of s’mores and taketh them away. Despicable.

Were it not for the fact that the local good witch could probably yeet them around the globe without so much as breaking a sweat, Miro might have tried something dastardly and dangerous. As it is, they keep their private tantrum private and pick up their wizard staff that they had staked into the sand. “Fine, but if I don’t get s’mores for drawing s’more, I will take to the streets. I will riot!”

It’s not that serious, nothing ever is with them but they try to keep a strong face anyway. (Like that could ever intimidate the blip witch. She’s too badass for their games.) They trace out the new emblems in the sand, asking Valentine only once to repeat the elements to make sure they’ve got them all. Once they start touching the symbols, it goes as expected. Water gives them a small spurt of water. Ice freezes the ground, spreading to about the size of a basketball. Air brings a whisper of a breeze.

Most interesting, the synonyms for “fire” only bring the same paltry red sparks as before, probably because all of the emblems come out identical – not that Miro is able to note this themself. “Green fire,” doesn’t give them green fire either. It just turns the sand green for a second while also lighting the same red sparks. Miro tries a few more times, but the results are all the same. The emblems respond to their touch, but not with the same gusto or vigor as the ones drawn up by Hadeon.

While not defeated, they are tired and eventually slump into the sand, not caring that the ground is wet or that the waves threaten to soak their shoes. As if they’d feel it. “I don't know how he does it." And by "he," they of course mean Hadeon. Even if they're proud of what they've been able to accomplish in this single training session, they know it's nothing like what they've managed before. They scratch the top of their beanie. "The emblems usually appear when I'm in danger, like right before I'm going to be eaten by a monster." They still aren't sure about the other random cases, but those are so few and far between it might not be worth it to investigate. "Maybe I need to be more scared? How do your powers work, Val?"
 
"My powers defy explanation. I don't have to ask how because this magic is a part of me. I think about it the same way I think about breathing. Sometimes I'll take a deep, intentional breath it to calm down or focus... otherwise, it comes naturally to me." Valentine says with a shrug. "There are a lot of rules I have to keep track of, though." She snaps, summoning a bucket hat that she twirls on her finger like a basketball, "I can summon any object in Bellwick Springs as long as I've touched it once." The hat disappears and she replaces it with an orange feather. She circles her hand over it and a chicken materializes in her arms with a joyful cluck. "I can summon and understand all of the creatures in Bellwick Springs, though it's easier to do if I've bonded with them first." She snuggles the chicken in her arms before sending her back home to her coop.

Valentine points her toe like a ballerina, using it to draw a shape that resembles Bellwick Springs in the sand. "And I can teleport," She looks at Miro meaningfully-- teleport, not blip-- and continues, "Basically anywhere, as long as it's in Bellwick Springs. I can't use my teleportation to travel anywhere on a whim. I've never used it to break into concerts, amusement parks or tourist sites across the globe or anything like that."

She would've seen a lot more of the world if that were the case. These powers would be infinitely cooler if Valentine weren't chained to Bellwick Springs.

With great power comes great sacrifice and all that jazz.

"Telekinesis requires the most focus..." Valentine flicks her hand towards the picnic blanket, raising the basket and radio a few feet into the air. She lowers them gently to the ground and then flexes. "And I have to be extra-extra careful with my strength. I could bench press eight elephants." She glances at them and soberly informs them, "I could break you in half."

It's not a threat-- just a fun fact! Like something you'd find on a bottle cap or a popsicle stick. As for the soul eating, honing in on her name and everything else... Valentine holds her tongue. There's no need to get into all that biz, especially if Hadeon Bellwickson is eavesdropping.

"My magic is wrapped up in my senses and my connections with the town." Emotions like fear tend to provoke outbursts. Powerful outbursts, mind you, but it can get way too dangerous. When she's drunk on her magic she can lose sense of who she's protecting, of what's happening around her. As for Miro... Valentine bites her lip. "Meanwhile, you're borrowing from someone else's well of magic. On top of that, you've been numbed of your senses. You might have to dig a little deeper to get it to respond to you."
 
“She’s going to kill you.”

The inevitability of that is clearer than crystals. Miro can see themself torqued in half and smeared into the streets of Bellwick Springs, their red scar glowing. The vision comes to them so perfectly they have to gasp to remember to breathe; to remember that they are still alive. (It’s just in their head.) They bite the inside of their cheek before their features can betray what they’ve just seen. (It’s just their imagination.) They remind themself that they are no more prey than Valentine is predator, and vice versa.

They’re the blip witch and the green wizard, after all.
Valentine Thorne has saved them more than once, after all.

Scrubbing their eyes until they see little stars and fairies, they mull over what the local good witch has just shared – aside from the fact that she can (and will) break them in half – as it relates to their own newfound abilities. “Borrowing? More like stealing,” they blurt out. “If I were borrowing, I think it’d come a lot more willingly.”

Just as Miro resists Hadeon’s takeovers, Hadeon resists Miro’s use of his power. That’s the way it appears, at least. But if Valentine Thorne believes that they could tap into it and make it theirs, they’re certainly willing to try. Especially if it can help them defend against the parasitic demon feeding on their soul. Maybe then they'll be able to rediscover the coarseness of the sand, the warmth of the sun, or the frigid waters lapping at the shore. (As it is, Valentine is the only one who can reach them.) It might’ve been cool at first to learn they’ve got the constitution of a cockroach, but there is something to be said about the fragility of the human condition. When they were human, they had a life that was their own. That’s one glaring difference between who they were and who they are now.

They trace another emblem in the sand with their staff then tap it, watching the sparks fly and fizzle. If Hadeon can steal their senses, then they ought to be able to steal his magic. It’s just a matter of figuring out how, and they don’t think they’ll figure that out without practice. Which means it's time to be a nerd like the local good witch. (Ugh.)

“You don’t have to write out little emblems for your magic.” Curiously, they look over at the local good witch and recall the way she reacted to the diagnostic exam booklet they had filled out with song lyrics. “You didn’t even know about them.” They ponder this while drawing another fire emblem. “I guess that makes sense. Different strokes for different folks.”

Valentine draws her magic from the town itself. Hadeon, on the other hand, isn’t limited by the boundaries of Bellwick Springs if he was able to possess them in Undersky as well as lend his magic well before they ever set foot here. Until tonight, Miro couldn't even produce a spell over their own; it was always Hadeon providing the template. Hmm...

"Maybe for me, it'll be creativity." It's about the only they have going for them, so it's the only thing they can think of to connect themself to magic. Maybe if they create a pretty enough emblem, the magic will respond with thunderous applause? "Hadeon has all these big complex emblems – I can't even read them when I do see them. They're just pretty and glowing and begging to be touched like a big red button, but green and not a button at all." Excited as they are about this possibility of control, their cheeks immediately light up in flames. "Ah, that probably sounds silly. I swear, I am taking this seriously though. I want my life back."
 
"No," Valentine agrees with their assessment that she'd never encountered these symbols before. "I've never heard the name Hadeon Bellwickson until you rolled into town, either. You figure with a name like Bellwickson I'd know at least something, right? It's weird."

Is Hadeon using his influence to fabricate a history for the town that doesn't actually exist? Or had his stain on the town been erased so thoroughly that not even the cryptids hiding in the most secret and mystical of spaces knew his name? Valentine has done tireless research on Bellwick Springs. It's her home, a mysterious town that offers her godlike power while simultaneously holding her captive. The keys to her escape could only be hidden deep within its lore. So where the hell has Hadeon Bellwickson been hiding all of this time?

It's impossible to keep a secret from Valentine Thorne. Even whispers attached to her name echo in her ears loud and clear, informing her of anything and everything said behind her back.

Valentine stares out at the sea, entranced by the dark vastness of it beneath the stars. With all the strength in her body, she's certainly capable of swimming past that horizon-- yet she can't. She could turn the sea red if she wanted to, or lavender or yellow, but she won't. The good witch doesn't show all of her cards, not to anyone. That's why she's known as the good witch and nothing more. It's the title that aligns with her motives, that allows her to be perceived in a way that suits who she is-- not what she is. The goal has never been to frighten anyone. (...Except for her enemies, of course. It's fine and dandy if they're frightened.)

That's what makes dealing with characters like Miro Syke so damn complicated. How is she supposed to obliterate the demon inside them without hurting them in the process? Arming her ally with information means she's also arming her enemy with information. Lying to her enemy means lying to her ally. And threatening them, scaring them, means...

Hadeon Bellwickson might be tampering magic she's familiar with, but it's the sort that goes far beyond what she's been willing to tamper with. This is going to test her. What if it comes between choosing to protect Miro or the town? She wraps her arms around herself, shivering against the chill in the air.

"It's not a bad thought... it's just a bit vague so far. Don't sell yourself short. Hadeon knows exactly what he wants. He's sure of himself, he's not afraid to be ruthless, and that's how he takes control. The kind of magic he relies on doesn't have opinions on right or wrong-- it respects a strong will it can follow." Valentine says, setting a hand on their shoulder. "If you're going to challenge Hadeon, you're going to have to keep fighting for yourself. Focus on why you want to stay, on who you are and what you want... and maybe you can convince the magic to obey you instead of him. Charm it by being your creative self! If you think an idea is silly, embrace the silliness. You're a whole lot more likable than he is-- voted best-all-around three years in a row. That kind of influence is a lot more powerful than you might think. If you want your life back, you're going to have to prove it."

This is, ultimately, going to be an internal battle between Miro and Hadeon. Valentine can only do so much from the outside.

"Speaking of fighting for what you want... if you want those s'mores, you're going to have to get started on a bonfire." Valentine gestures towards the pile of sticks she collected further away from the ocean. "Show me what you've got, beanie-boo!"
 
It’s not a question of holding on. For Miro, there is no other option but to hold on – and not because of the demonic parasite they unwittingly invited in. Giving up has just never been an option. That would be all too convenient for the haters, of which there are admittedly few.

“You have to live, Miro. If that’s one thing you have to do, it’s live.”

The firelight glints off their knife as they angle it from left to right. Lighting the bonfire had been as simple as asking for a piece of paper, drawing the emblem, and then using that as kindle. Now they sit before it, feeling none of its warmth as they conjure up all the reasons they have to hold on; to stay. They used to talk about their dreams with Vega; it was almost routine. Those conversations had surprised Miro at first, because Vega seemed to have her whole life figured out, had a full job and everything. And still she was full of want.

It’s up to Miro to live for those wants now. They’re the only one of the two of them who can.

Miro stabs a marshmallow with their knife, plucks it off only to skewer it onto a stick. This will be their third or seventh s’more and they plan to char it as they have all the others. “One perk of not feeling anything,” Miro starts, pulling their flaming mallow out of the fire and holding it up to their palm. On their bandage they’ve drawn the emblem for air and tap it with their ring finger to extinguish the flame. “I don’t have to wait for my food or drinks to cool down.” They sandwich the crispy marshmallow between two graham crackers and squish it with a satisfying crunch. It disappears in seconds, going down without so much as chewing it. “That’s one reason to stay. Probably my number one reason, in fact.” They punctuate this with a sagely nod and signature grin.

Hidden under their veneer of confidence, though, is the fear that nothing about them will be enough. That their dreams and hopes won’t be big enough. That they’re already wasting space with their insignificant contribution to society – like, does the world really need more delivery people? Does it even need their art? “Does it need another fairy killer?”

Maybe they should have become a doctor like their parents.

“If you could do your life differently, would you?”
 
"No. I do everything perfectly the first time." Valentine sighs, jokingly imperious, before swallowing the last bite of her s'more and flopping onto her back. She continues, sincerely this time, "I try my best to be perfect and always have, ever since I was little. Don't get me wrong, all the things I've studied and prepared for have helped me survive this long in Bellwick Springs. But I've had to accept that no amount of planning will protect me from misfortune or from making mistakes." She stares at the stars, reciting her next words as though she's heard them a thousand times before from someone else. "Learn from your experiences if you're lucky enough to survive them and keep moving forward. Don't get caught up in what you could've done. Look at who you are right now and think about what you can do while you've still got a life to live. You're still here. That matters."

Desperate wishes to undo the past are exactly what got Miro into this fix in the first place. Similarly, Hadeon Bellwickson seems to carry his past around like a thorn in his side. Valentine suspects this gives the demon a layer of understanding, a way to worm his way into Miro's brain with promises he knows will be irresistible. Promising the revival of someone who is long gone, entertaining fictional universes of what could've been, when they ought to be on the path of accepting things as they are. The truth, no matter how difficult it might be to face.

Valentine knows it's possible, having clawed her way out of a similar hell. This life is not what she expected, it's not exactly what she wanted, but she's still here-- able to protect the town and Miro Syke-- because she refused to give up on herself the day her dreams shattered into pieces. She won't give up on Miro Syke and all the potential their life still has.

"...There are plenty of things I would change if I could go back in time. There are things I wish never happened to me. My life didn't go according to plan, no matter how hard I tried. So y'know what I did? I adapted. I made a new plan. One that took my magic and my circumstances into account. It took time to figure things out, mind you, it wasn't easy." Valentine says, her eyes softer in the firelight. She sits up and sets her hand on Miro's knee, offering some warmth that the fire might not. "Now I'm protecting the town... and I'm proud of that."

Valentine gestures to the fire. "So, you're wielding magic now. If magic ends up being a part of your life forever, how do you see yourself using it? How would you want to use it?"
 
It’s completely like Valentine Thorne to say she simply formulated a new plan when the original one did not pan out. Of course, to say that it was simple is probably a disservice to the grief that had to come before accepting and adapting to her new circumstances. Valentine Thorne is dodgy on her past, only giving Miro enough to sate them in the moment, but they’ve put together the pieces and know they still have an incomplete picture of the local good witch – even if she has revealed such things as striking to kill, much of her is still a mystery.

Miro wants to hold onto their belief that they can still do something for Vega, but a new understanding of their situation is starting to cement itself and, soon, they’ll be able to recognize, just as Valentine has, that there is no going back. There is only forward.

For several seconds too long, they just stare at her hand on their knee. It’s warm. Through their jeans, they imagine that it’s soft, too. The gold flecks in their eyes dance with the firelight. Their cheeks warm.

“I–I dunno,” they shrug, clearing their throat that has gone dry – because of the too many s’mores they've eaten and certainly not because Valentine is touching their knee, sending zaps of electricity up their thigh. “I think if this were before and we were talking hypotheticals, I’d say I’d try to get away with as many pranks as possible.” It’s near impossible to take their eyes off of Valentine’s hand, but they brave the unknown and follow her hand to her wrist to her arm, her neck, her jaw, stopping at the corner of her lips. (Lips she used to kiss them. Save them. Same difference?) They swallow thickly, before they meet her eyes. “But I really don’t know now that it could be real.”

That’s not an answer they’ll settle for. They tilt their head back and search the stars for inspiration. Before their life changed, their dreams were few and far between. Their dreams were simple – like wishing for a gay commune to keep all their friends in one place and enough money to keep them sustained. They never dreamed for greater, and now that endless possibilities lie before them they aren’t sure how to dream bigger, how to imagine what a life with magic could be. (Are they even worthy?)

After a long stretch of silence, they pull their knees up to their chest. “It feels like a waste to do nothing if I get to keep this magic.” The weight of this power could very well crush them with possibility and responsibility. All they ever wanted was to have a silly little life. “I never wanted more.” They were scared to want more. “I’d want to make people happy, I think. I don’t know how I’ll do that with magic, but it seems worthwhile to do what I can to make people smile. To give people hope.”
 
"Well, I think you're on the right track. It's dangerous to want too much." Valentine muses, drawing her finger back and forth in the sand. (You would know.) The locket burns hot against her neck, the constant reminder it is. "Especially when you're dealing with magic."

Swindlers with sky high ambitions were charming once, to a naive girl who wanted the world, sweeping her off her feet as they spun their grand dreams into poetry that spoke to her soul. Miro raises none of those red flags as they wonder over their dreams and how magic might affect their life. There's no shiny armor, no trace of a front as they stumble along the path to working things out. Granted, they've only experienced a taste of power thus far-- an appetizer at most-- but their core values are refreshing. Selfless.

"In my book, it's more than okay if all you want to do is make someone smile. I'm just relieved you're not plotting world domination. That's basic-- I've dealt with it more times than you could imagine." Valentine says, blowing a raspberry as she falls onto her back again. It seems like Hadeon Bellwickson is standing in line. While it might have been easy for the demon to slip past Miro's defenses, pulling on their heartstrings to get his way at first... ultimately, because he didn't select a shrewd person to do his bidding, it's going to make it harder for him to play Valentine for a fool.

"But there is something you should want more than anything, Miro. You need to want it."

Characters like Hadeon are capable of cruelty that goes beyond petty trickery. When that doesn't work, there's no telling what tactics he might resort to. So how does Valentine warn Miro without giving Hadeon key insight into what she's thinking? Hm.

"If you want your life back, doing nothing isn't even an option... at least until Hadeon is taken care of. As much as I want to help, there's only so much I can do for you outside your mind." Valentine admits. "Unless your beanie has a secret portal I don't know about yet?"

Truth be told, she has been studying different methods she could use to reach Miro in a pinch. Hadeon doesn't need to know that she's not completely helpless to help. It'll be a pleasant surprise for him, she thinks. Sneak attacks are the bees knees.

"Hadeon targetted you thinking you wouldn't put up a fight, Miro. But you did. Somewhere deep down, you know exactly where you stand. Your heart's in the right place. That's why I believe there's hope for you." Valentine says, her voice light with sincerity. "Hadeon... he's gonna try and use you to swallow the world, apparently. S'mores aren't good enough for him. Are you gonna let him get away with that? You want to stop him, don't you!?" She narrows her eyes, clambering to her feet and throwing her arms in the air, embracing the dramatics. "He's gonna eat all the desserts in the world, leaving none for anyone else. This bastard's going to ruin all the parties. He's going to make so many babies cry."

"If you want to stop him, you need to say it like you mean it. Hell, you should scream it at the sky! Don't be complacent. Don't let him walk all over you. Make his experience living in your mind a living hell. Get angry!" Valentine waves her hand at Miro, encouraging them to get up, the cheer captain in her coming out with a vengeance. She claps her hands three times. "Up on your feet, c'mon! What do you want, Miro? Say it with your whole chest."
 
She really should join the rugby team – she has the energy for it. In any other context, this would rally Miro and stir the spirit in their chest, but with the late hour, the haunting new realities breathing down their neck, they struggle to rise. And when they do, sand cascading off their clothes, they can’t muster a warrior cry, let alone even a sob. The shock from the injury is still too fresh to feel.

Three months they’ve dedicated to chasing their own tail.
Three months of hope. Three months of promise.

“Will you go?”

Three months of taunts in a voice that’s never returning.

They touch the tattoo behind their ear, tracing the pointy letter. (It was a stupid idea then to let a friend of a friend of a friend with a brand new tattoo gun use them both as guinea pigs. But at least that didn’t result in a demonic entity attaching itself to their soul.) It’s why they did what they did. They saw the shadow in the flash of lightning and bargained with it. All Vega wanted to see that night was the haunted old reactor. She got so much more than that.

When they think about her wishes, who she was at her core, the way she took them under her wing like they were a failed fledging… Well, obviously they have to fight, that was never a question, but it reminds them of the importance of this fight. Her dreams live through them now and one of those dreams had been to help Miro realize their own dreams; get enough money that she could free them from the need to work and they could focus on their art. But she had also wanted to adopt all the animals in the shelter and set them free. She wanted to steal the materials from all the abandoned construction projects in the city and use them to build her own utopia. She wanted to ask that werewolf DJ out on a date…

‘She’s really not gonna get to do all that?’ The question is a wrecking ball they dodge, preferring instead to avoid that confrontation (as they have been doing for the last three months). 'Nope. No time for that.' It'll consume them if they let reality in. It’s better to focus on fury.

Miro squeezes their eyes shut, clearing out all the memories of Vega and what-could-have-beens, replacing them instead with all the reasons they need to stay.

Hadeon tried to use them to hurt Valentine. Hadeon wants to use them to take away everything sweet in the world. (Like Valentine.) Hadeon wants to destroy every child’s joy and that is unforgivable. “He can try, but I won’t let him ruin everything pure in this world.”

They roll up their hands into tight balls, lifting their chin. “You hear that, demon?!” They shout, hopping up as if that will help their message be heard. “You want this life? You’re gonna have to rip it straight from me!” And they know they’re a slippery bastard to catch. All the cops in Undersky say so. “I’m protecting all the kids from ruined parties and crushed dreams. I’m gonna set all the shelter animals free." Behind them, the fire snaps in loud agreement. The heat of it builds as the flames warp between red, green, purple, orange – until all the colors of the rainbow are waving behind them like a banner of resistance. "And I’m gonna get my fucking life back!”
 

Users who are viewing this thread

Back
Top