‛⋆ 𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕖 𝕓𝕖 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕔𝕙𝕖𝕤┊𝕚𝕔

[viscera.]

AMITY.

A sense of routine was something Amity craved. Perhaps that stemmed from her less-than-stable childhood, but it made her days easier, less jumbled so that she could focus on priorities as opposed to minor details. An easy life, she supposed, but that was the beauty of Havencrest. She didn't have to worry about hunters or those who would otherwise benefit from her demise; she was safe there, or at least as safe as she was going to be, and it kept her at peace to an extent. Her existence there was tranquil, serene even.

Unfortunately, that particular evening was significantly less peaceful.

It had been exactly one year and three days-- she kept count-- since Camila's disappearance, and there was a subtle tension surrounding the coven, like a veil of dread. Amity couldn't pinpoint it, but it was definitely there, and that made her nervous. Typically, she was capable of picking apart people's emotions; maybe this surpassed her abilities. There was also the possibility that she was merely imaginings things, which had admittedly happened before, but that didn't stop her from acting. Better safe than sorry, right?

Organizing a coven meeting felt like the best decision. They had... a lot to discuss, and even if they regularly spent time together, it was difficult to get everyone in the same place at the same time. Amity was determined though, and she'd made it blatantly clear that they all needed to be there, at their regular meeting place before sundown.

Currently, it was fifteen minutes from seven o'clock in the evening, and she was only just starting to make her way towards the edge of the forest. It was normally a bit more lively by then, filled with the songs of birds and rustling of other wildlife, but she couldn't hear anything, and that made her anxious. Then again, so did everything else.
Ephraim was perched on her shoulder, perpetually undisturbed by Amma's jittery movements. He was used to this though, and the young witch was convinced that her calm familiar could sleep through a hurricane. It wouldn't have come as a surprise anyway. "It's late," had been the demon's initial complaint, to which she'd simply replied, "I know," before strolling out the door.

As she reached the edge of the clearing-- she could already feel the energy of the protection spells they'd placed there-- Amma paused and looked over to make sure Heather was still within arm's length. It was rare for the entirety of the coven to be there at the same time, but she had her hopes up. They hadn't had a genuine meeting in months, and it was very much needed. There were issues to discuss, things they needed to talk about as a group--it was a necessary evil, as much as she would have liked to avoid any conflict or tension. The past year hadn't exactly been easygoing though.

"Do you think they'll show up?" Amity asked with a small frown, obviously addressing Heather as she stepped into the clearing. By 'they', she meant the remaining four and was by no means targeting anyone in particular. "It's been awhile," she then murmured under her breath, briefly basking in the warmth that surrounded the forest. It was nice there, it always was.

@pines @daird @Jenamos @any name you wish @Iceydaze

 

[daird]

Jessica enjoyed being out and about in nature. It was only normal, given her magical specialty. The flowers were in bloom, and singing love songs to each other. The sun was nice and warm on her face, and Eleanor was lazing on her shoulder. Everything was perfect. Well, except for the missing witch.

She had spoken to the birds and the bees, the flowers and the trees- even the worms and the fleas, but none knew what had become of Camille. No matter how many living things she talked to, she couldn't get any information. This in itself spoke volumes- whatever happened, Camille had been alone, or nearly so, almost certainly indoors, and it had been fast. This last was the most terrifying by far- Jessica often found herself awake in the middle of the night, scared that something would open up a portal and grab her. Still, that was a problem for the night, not a beautiful day.

"Good to see you, Amity. It's been far too long. When was our last meeting, Samhain?"

 

[wren.]

"It's been quite a while, hasn't it Dea?"

Deagmund nods his head, his large antlers nearly colliding with a set of bookshelves as he does so.

"Be careful!" Cecelia panics, her barefeet thudding against the cool wood of the cabin's floor as she crosses the small space to the dodgily-assembled shelves. Her lithe fingers skitter over the old tomes — and occasional poetry book — to make sure they're in their proper place. They are, of course. There isn't even a small clearing in the layer of dust along the wood. "You've been in that form for years now, Deagmund. I would have thought you'd have a better sense of spatial awareness at this point."

She can feel the irritation radiating off the spirit even as it stands behind her. He elects to ignore the freckled witch's complaints. "Do you think it's wise to go?" He turns his head to follow Cecelia's movement as she crosses over toward the door. "It's quite late, and whatever threat took Camila may just come for you."

Cecelia sighs, gesturing pointedly to the golden light filtering in through the nearby dirt-tainted window. "There's still a decent amount of daylight left. Besides, it's your job to protect me, right?"

He snorts in the way a stag can, and Cecelia is sure that if his eyes were capable of the movement, he'd be rolling them. "You're worried, too." It's not a question, because it doesn't need to be. Her greenhouse-worth of plant life is all reaching out to her, as if in sympathy.

Of course Cecelia is worried. One of the strongest witches she has ever known had suddenly disappeared, and despite months of searching, nothing regarding her possible whereabouts or more-likely-death had surfaced. Sure, Cecelia can pass for a normal girl most days. A little more eccentric than average, sure, but not particularly conspicuous. But a gathering of several witches in an easy-to-target clearing? Not the wisest of decisions, really. Still —

"It's necessary. You've seen the worry we've all be out under by the potential threat. Not to mention that we are an entire leader short now. We've needed to have this discussion for a long time."

Fortunately, Deagmund seems to accept her decision, and they step outside together. The weather is admittedly splendid, not exactly congruent to the atmosphere surrounding it. The forest is suspiciously silent, as if everything has stilled to watch the events taking place. Cecelia isn't sure how she feels about that. Anyone could be listening in. Although, she supposes Dea would let her know if he sensed anything. "This will be faster if I ride you," Cecelia smirks, casting a glance at her dear deer friend, and he stares back with utmost sorrow. Well, probably not, but Cecelia likes to think the natural shine to his large eyes is the product of unused tears.

He bows his head, and Cecelia grins, climbing on to his back before they set off towards the agreed-upon spot. It isn't a long journey, given the cabin's conveniently short distance from the area. Even so, she somehow isn't the first to arrive — an observation that makes her eyebrows raise into her hairline. Not that she should be surprised. She can see the tension in Amity's shoulders, a clear mark of her own anxiety at the prospect of all of this. Cecelia isn't the only one who's been awaiting this moment. Heather and Jessica are also already present, the latter girl appearing to be rather cheerful for the occasion. Such an optimist.

"Well, hello, darlings," she deadpans, hopping off of Deagmund's back when he slows to a halt beside the group. She habitually places her hand on Deagmund's thick neck, fingers threading through the scruff there. It's a comforting sensation. "Lovely night, isn't it? I think the forest could be a bit more ominous, though," she smirks, hoping the sarcasm might ease the conversation.​

 

[pines]

heather.
it had been a year.
how was she supposed to deal with that? sure heather had never liked camila, but...
sometimes it was too much. sometimes she could feel the claws of guilt dragging through her.
she almost wondered why she wasnt dead yet.

amity had called a meeting. it was a long time coming really, theyd been seeing one or two of each other for days, but when was the last time they had all come together like this? samhain? that in of itself had been a mess. heather could see the tension, the anxiety in every little move amity made. it made her want to take her hands, hold her and protect her. not a uncommon feeling.
she always felt a sense of dread in the forest, could almost hear the ghost of whispers. they knew she'd think, but jessica would come and say everything was quite, no one knew anything. the underlined fear there made her swallow. if the forest didnt know, then what happened? what could have taken camila away? heather was sure that was scarier then knowing.

knowing what amity wanted to do, knowing the meeting was going to happen, heather found herself sticking closer to her pink haired girlfriend. mortem had remained silent the whole day, not quite solid, bleeding in with the shadows he crossed. they both knew what the others didnt. heather hadnt really realized what it was like to hold an unbearable weight. the shadows whispered more that day. heather hadnt realized how bad it would be close to the date everything changed.

it had been a year.

it didnt feel that long.

each step through the forest was a step closer to the inevitable. whether anyone knew it or not. it might be the first time they discussed as a group what happened. camila was missing, gone, no one knew what happened.

glancing to amity as she spoke, heather lifted a hand, before it dropped gently brushing the back of one of the other witch's "theyll show" she murmured. of course they would, this affected them all. something took her, killed her. they didnt know what, or if it would come back (heather silently preyed it never came to that). mortem brushed past her, fluid, like pushing him to hard would cause him to collapse in a puddle of water. she knew he was feeling the tension like her. she said nothing as he slipped into the shadows, disappearing before one by one black eyes appeared, stretching to watch, to see the forest.

they'd all come.

 

[Iceydaze]

Ilyas Scott

Ilyas awoke to the feeling of absolute peace. In his dream, he had dreamt of dying. Even now, he felt as if he was falling into an endless abyss. Unlike the familiar urge to jump awake most people have, Ily was accustomed to the feeling and even found the floating sensation a little euphoric. Upon opening his eyes, the first sight he saw was Lazuli resting on the tip of his nose, his white wings flapping on occasion as if deep in thought. Blinking away the sleep, Ily was about to shoo his familiar off when Lazuli abruptly paused his flapping. 'I only took a little. You owe me twice as more later. Hurry and get up. We have places to be.' The butterfly reminded him through the telepathic connection they shared before fluttering off towards the mouth of the cave they resided in.

Weak to the butterfly's commands, Ily obediently complied and got dressed in the same dirty clothes he had been wearing throughout the week. Casually sniffing the sleeve, he judged that it was about time to wash the outfit and switch over to another set. Wandering off to a certain corner of the cave, he finished preparing with the "gift" the other coven members had taught him to make. If it weren't for the natural homemade deodorant, Ily would very likely smell so bad, they would kick him out of the coven.

'That wouldn't be good..' Worried by the thought, he clumsily stumbled out to join Lazuli who led the way as usual. The assigned meeting area wasn't too far from his cave. Building a gate would be really pointless and lazy. Thanks to the butterfly's presence, the chance of encountering a predator in these woods was very rare as well. It was one of the many things Ilyas was grateful for. Although the butterfly could be a little forceful and commanding, Illyas knew he couldn't be too bad. If it was completely evil, wouldn't Laz have killed him off by now?

The two quickly approached the clearing they were to meet at. The familiar warmth emanating from the protection spells driving off the deep chill Lazuli's presence filled him with. Seeing no need in leading the way any further, Lazuli lazily fluttered to Ily, resting on his head. Whether it was to assert his dominance or to warn the others to stay away, Ily wasn't sure, he had more important things to worry about.

The Coven had been without a leader for quite some time. Ilyas wasn't sure how long it had been but the seasons had certainly cycled at least once. By now even he was clued in by the fact that something was very wrong. Making his way out of some shrubs, completely oblivious to the path the others were taking, he came to a stop once he was in full view of the others. His eyebrows raised upon realizing he wasn't the last to arrive for once. The slightest of smiles graced his pale lips as he raised a hand before him and waved ever so subtly. So long as they were all alive and well, the days could never be boring. It had been a long time since they all had gathered.

Interpreting for him, Lazuli fluttered his wings and raised his raspy voice to greet them. "The little cow is very happy to see you all. He hopes you have all been well." The wispy dark tendrils wormed themselves out from his wings and wove themselves through Ily's hair, yearning to consume the boy. While the butterfly wasn't a fan of the coven, he loved the flavor they filled his snack with. Oblivious to his familiar's hunger, Ily proceeded to pluck the leaves and twigs out of his messy platinum locks and shawl. All that was left to do was wait for the last member.

---

Location:
Interactions:

Cave>Meeting area
Everyone present

 

[any name you wish]

ｓｘｄｂ．


The week before, Safia worked her mother's ghost and voodoo tour agency in New Orleans in time for a large influx of tourists. While it was satisfying work to show people the culture they were raised on, she sometimes dreaded taking ordinary people on the tours. Far too many of them failed to respect all the work and intention they put into the magic. To them, it was all a matter of poking needles into a straw doll and taking revenge. If they wanted—strictly—to go that way, they were going to go down a dark path. The effort it took not to roll her eyes at them made the week stretch on for far longer than she liked.

Now that she was going back to Havencrest and back to her coven, a company of people who actually understood how serious it was (thank the gods) to attend their first serious meeting in a year, she feared was going to be late.

'Matí. This is serious. I can't be late! Amma and the others'll be halfway there by now!' Safia leant by the doorframe of her brother's bathroom, arms crossed disapprovingly him.

A muffled response came through the sound of tooth brushing.

'He is just concerned about his breath smelling good for that pípônpupa one he likes,' piped Ìdin in his sing-song West African lilt as he was cleaning his feathers.
'You're making me late... for a piece of ginger ass.' She rolled her eyes. 'Who is it this time? Wes? Harvey?'
'Olga, actually.' Matías wiped the excess toothpaste suds off with his used towel and grinned at his sister. 'What's that look for?'
'You're such a slut.'
'Look who's talking.'

Safia, mouth agape in disbelief, hit his shoulder hard and stormed off. He guffawed, reaching over to tug on the nearest silver-pastel purple box braid he could grab.

'I was kidding! Hey, don't be that way, you're not a slut—'
'Ugh. Just get me to the meeting, Smelly. And don't touch my hair!'


As soon as they pulled over as near as they could to the forest without giving the meeting place away, she felt the presence of the five others and gave her brother a disapproving frown.

'Have fun!' He was met with a palm to the face as Safia alighted from the car. Ìdin, who perched atop it when it came to a stop, watched her with his beady eyes.

'I will see you at the edge of the forest.' Sure enough, he perched atop her shoulder the moment she got to the edge of it, and gave her ear a greeting peck.

'I suppose it is time to address the elephant in the room?'
She gave a small hum in reply, straining to see the meeting place in the distance. 'I honestly don't know what's worse at this point: hanging up our shoes and admitting Cami's really fucking dead, or having to decide who's gonna take her place now that she is.'
'Did you not decide in advance who would succeed her?'
Safia sighed wistfully. 'We weren't counting on her disappearing.'


The five others were already there when they arrived at the meeting. The magpie gave a greeting squawk.

'I'm late,' she said by way of a 'sorry', nervously clutching onto the braids on the back of her head. 'Idiot brother gussied up for a date.'

 

[viscera.]

AMITY.

For a long moment, Amity stilled in an attempt to read the energy that surrounded the forest. As usual, it was pleasant, calming even, but that did little to ease her obvious discomfort. Even with Heather's reassurance, anxiety continued to pool in her chest and act as a grounding weight. It was uncomfortable at best. "And if they don't?" she returned, looking back at Heather while habitually pulling at the sleeve of her dress. Realistically, if someone bailed, Amity supposed they could continue with their meeting, but it wouldn't feel right. If they wanted to make progress, the entire coven needed to be there.

Since Camila's disappearance, it felt like they were moving in slow motion. Their coven was already small enough, and the loss of one member-- let alone their head witch-- seemed to bring everything to a grinding halt. After all, it wasn't like anyone had planned on replacing Camila so soon. If Amity was going to be entirely honest, the idea still made her nauseous, but what other choice did they have? They couldn't function without a proper leader, that was just common sense. However, there was nothing to say that Camila was gone forever. If she'd died the night of her disappearance, Amity would've known. Her ability would've picked it up. There was no way she would've been able to miss that... but maybe she had. Maybe something went wrong. Maybe she'd overlooked the obvious signs in a desperate attempt at self-preservation. Amity honestly didn't know, which was exactly why they were there. None of them did.

She tilted her head up at the first sign of movement, relaxing slightly when she noticed Jessica. The other girl was a beacon for optimism, and that alone was enough to make Amity smile. "It has been awhile," she returned, voice quiet as she tried to remember when they'd last met. "I think that's correct." 'Too long,' Amity gently corrected herself.

The tension in her shoulders seemed to melt away as the rest of their coven filtered in, one by one. Cecelia's blatant attempt to ease the tension was appreciated, but Amity only shrugged, too caught up in her own thoughts to appreciate much of anything. Addressing the obvious was always difficult, but she'd called for a meeting, so naturally, it was her responsibility. Someone had to do it, even if she would've rather avoided the issue as a whole. It would only fester until they moved past it though.

Another smile graced her lips as Ilyas wandered into the clearing, but it was quickly retracted at the words of his familiar. That left only Safia, and when said witch arrived only minutes later, Amity felt ten times lighter. Making sure everyone was there was half the battle. "Alright," she breathed. There was no point in skirting around it, and she didn't want to sit there for the next three hours. "I think it's pretty obvious that we have a lot to talk about." And that was putting it lightly. Since Camila's disappearance, everything'd felt off, and she was sure that she wasn't the only one to notice. "It's been a year," she finally uttered, still tugging at her sleeve in an attempt to quell her apprehension, "and we still need a head witch." That left them with two options: continue waiting, or decide on someone new.