Willow (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
frogfear) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
deercountry2022-06-15 03:28 am
frogfear) wrote in deercountry2022-06-15 03:28 am
Catch-All for June
Who: Willow Rosenberg (frogfear)
What: Catch all and event prompts
When: June!
Where: Various
Content Warnings: Nightmares, amnesia, mentions of blood, implied death and violence
1 - Archives - Remina
[It's been nearly three months since her death at Maul's hands had stolen her memories of Trench from her. Three months, and Willow remembers bits and pieces of her time in the Waking World, but it isn't much, and conventional solutions don't seem to be yielding much in terms of results.
Sometimes she remembers brief moments - Ozpin handing her a cup of hot cocoa in the library at home, Tara sitting on the bed in the room they used to share with a smile, even though she can't remember exactly what the conversation was, or brief snippets of conversation with Faith over a drink.
It's frustrating to say the least, and well past time to start actively looking for a solution, and while she is still reluctant to trust the Pthumerians after everything she's heard, and everything that's happened since she crawled out of the ocean again in February, which she still isn't sure isn't some bizarre joke of Mariana's.
Still, Remina doesn't seem to object to sharing knowledge as long as the seeker is kind to her, and even though it seems strange that one being has an archive of the memories of every single event throughout history, Willow decides it's worth the risk.
Throughout June, she can be found in the Archives at a table with Remina on her shoulder, showing her the things she's forgotten. As soon as someone approaches, the Pthumerian winks out of existence, and Willow looks up with either a small forced smile, or simply an awkward one, depending on the memory she's just seen.]
Oh, um. Hey.
2 - Nightmares (cw: blood, implied death)
[Willow doesn't sleep much any more, and even when she does sleep, she's usually wolfwalking, or, this month, Omenwalking thanks to the influence of her necromancer friend who seems to only prefer titles, or aliases. She doesn't usually dream. Not outside of meditation and dreamwalking in someone else's mind at least.
It seems to come on suddenly anywhere throughout the month. In the Archives, as she zones out reading a book, or at the Ritual Gig while she tidies the shelves, at home, during a meal, or anywhere else she pauses as her mind starts to wander. Her eyes drift shut and she suddenly finds herself in the woods, not far from the mansion in Gaze.
She's already nervous, something doesn't feel right. She shouldn't be here, and she doesn't want to be here, especially not alone. Big flakes of snow drift to the ground around her, quickly accumulating, and it's so silent, that is the only sound until she begins to walk; to try to find her way back, and she can feel the crunch of snow and ice beneath her feet.
It takes a couple steps for her to realize she's on four legs, not just two, and she realizes she's the wolf, small, and red with the heightened senses that come along with this form. She sniffs the air, and she smells blood. She smells danger. She smells death.
She moves from a walk to a lope, to a flat out run as the underbrush tugs at her fur. The wind kicks up with an eerie howl, and the snow is suddenly deep enough that she has to bound, rather than run to keep her pace up as the flakes begin to fall smaller, and faster, and far less peaceful.
Willow doesn't see her attacker, so much as feels the ominous presence as the trees warp, and weave together like a wall to prevent her from fleeing. Her head whips back and forth, watching for the threat, her lips pulled back in a warning growl. She can't run, all that's left is to stand and and fight, even as her feet feel rooted to the spot as she tries to turn to face the unseen threat.
All four of her feet lift from the ground as she's pulled by some unseen force and her back hits something warm, and solid as arms grip her flailing body, pinning her still. She feels hands grip her neck, as she tries to fight, she tries to bite, but she's frozen and unable to move.
It always ends there, and she comes out of it with a start, gasping, and looking around for her invisible attacker. It's only the person who's found her, though. If they're too close, if they're wake her awake, she'll jerk back, looking alarmed before settling down with a deep sigh as she tries to get her breathing back under control.]
Not again...
frogfear)What: Catch all and event prompts
When: June!
Where: Various
Content Warnings: Nightmares, amnesia, mentions of blood, implied death and violence
1 - Archives - Remina
[It's been nearly three months since her death at Maul's hands had stolen her memories of Trench from her. Three months, and Willow remembers bits and pieces of her time in the Waking World, but it isn't much, and conventional solutions don't seem to be yielding much in terms of results.
Sometimes she remembers brief moments - Ozpin handing her a cup of hot cocoa in the library at home, Tara sitting on the bed in the room they used to share with a smile, even though she can't remember exactly what the conversation was, or brief snippets of conversation with Faith over a drink.
It's frustrating to say the least, and well past time to start actively looking for a solution, and while she is still reluctant to trust the Pthumerians after everything she's heard, and everything that's happened since she crawled out of the ocean again in February, which she still isn't sure isn't some bizarre joke of Mariana's.
Still, Remina doesn't seem to object to sharing knowledge as long as the seeker is kind to her, and even though it seems strange that one being has an archive of the memories of every single event throughout history, Willow decides it's worth the risk.
Throughout June, she can be found in the Archives at a table with Remina on her shoulder, showing her the things she's forgotten. As soon as someone approaches, the Pthumerian winks out of existence, and Willow looks up with either a small forced smile, or simply an awkward one, depending on the memory she's just seen.]
Oh, um. Hey.
2 - Nightmares (cw: blood, implied death)
[Willow doesn't sleep much any more, and even when she does sleep, she's usually wolfwalking, or, this month, Omenwalking thanks to the influence of her necromancer friend who seems to only prefer titles, or aliases. She doesn't usually dream. Not outside of meditation and dreamwalking in someone else's mind at least.
It seems to come on suddenly anywhere throughout the month. In the Archives, as she zones out reading a book, or at the Ritual Gig while she tidies the shelves, at home, during a meal, or anywhere else she pauses as her mind starts to wander. Her eyes drift shut and she suddenly finds herself in the woods, not far from the mansion in Gaze.
She's already nervous, something doesn't feel right. She shouldn't be here, and she doesn't want to be here, especially not alone. Big flakes of snow drift to the ground around her, quickly accumulating, and it's so silent, that is the only sound until she begins to walk; to try to find her way back, and she can feel the crunch of snow and ice beneath her feet.
It takes a couple steps for her to realize she's on four legs, not just two, and she realizes she's the wolf, small, and red with the heightened senses that come along with this form. She sniffs the air, and she smells blood. She smells danger. She smells death.
She moves from a walk to a lope, to a flat out run as the underbrush tugs at her fur. The wind kicks up with an eerie howl, and the snow is suddenly deep enough that she has to bound, rather than run to keep her pace up as the flakes begin to fall smaller, and faster, and far less peaceful.
Willow doesn't see her attacker, so much as feels the ominous presence as the trees warp, and weave together like a wall to prevent her from fleeing. Her head whips back and forth, watching for the threat, her lips pulled back in a warning growl. She can't run, all that's left is to stand and and fight, even as her feet feel rooted to the spot as she tries to turn to face the unseen threat.
All four of her feet lift from the ground as she's pulled by some unseen force and her back hits something warm, and solid as arms grip her flailing body, pinning her still. She feels hands grip her neck, as she tries to fight, she tries to bite, but she's frozen and unable to move.
It always ends there, and she comes out of it with a start, gasping, and looking around for her invisible attacker. It's only the person who's found her, though. If they're too close, if they're wake her awake, she'll jerk back, looking alarmed before settling down with a deep sigh as she tries to get her breathing back under control.]
Not again...