abraxaslogs | • OPEN •

[the rifts have closed and the beasts that once terrorized the commune—abraxas at large—are no more, but for a few that have been allowed to roam and remain. as if they had never been there before, things in solvunn start returning to normal. things ease, the land seems to heal, and, as always, there are shrines that need up keeping.

she can do so much with her magic, it feels selfish to do nothing.]

( A ) AN OFFERING IN BLOOD.

[wanda would be found, then, by the forest groves near and around the settlement, sitting on her knees, hands on the ground and fingers splayed out across ground and roots as she chants in whispers. the trees nearby rustle despite the lack of breeze, seeming to groan as they take in the benefit of her magic feeding into their vitality, small white and lavender flowers sprouting throughout the grass. the least she can do, in the absence of having offerings to give, is keep the homes of these shrines wealthy in health and beauty; a practice she has done often before, sometimes with someone nearby trying to learn how to do the same. she remembers carl fondly... and sends a quiet sigh into the world along with another pulse of magic, hoping that he is well, wherever he is.

after a moment, wanda has to sit back, tipping her head up. lines of blood draws down from her nose to her lips, and it's hard to breathe. there's a pattern here that she's noticed, unfortunately, and it's whenever she's used her magic—ever since the monsters disappeared.

it's frustrating, and so she puts her hands back down on the earth, grass blades between her fingers, and continues. drops of blood join her hands, and she refuses to stop despite herself, despite the contrarian pain she feels that comes from using her magic.

less than a minute goes by, before she's tipping to the side—and falling limp on the ground, white and lavender flowers around her.]

( B ) TREEHOUSE ROUTE.

I'm alright. Really.

[as if it weren't embarrassing enough, she gets offered to be brought back to the treehouse. thankfully it's close enough to the primary settlement, so it's just a matter of lasse bringing the goats and cart over for the trip. she waves off any lingering concern, though finds herself unable to reject the basket with fruits and food given to her.

it's all she can do to usher the kind locals away, and it isn't until their backs are turned and they've turned a corner that she lets a heavy exhale, dropping the basket down to her feet and plonking down on a nearby bench. her head still spins from the overuse, earlier, of her magic and whatever this symptom is that is causing her to bleed whenever she does.

wanda picks up her head at the sound of approaching feet.]

—tell me they didn't ask you to keep an eye on me.

[whoever it is, the intention is written clearly on their minds. the locals are eager to help the summoned, but they know that it is best when they deal with one another.]

I'm just waiting for Lasse and the goat carriage.

( C ) PRAYERS FOR A SHRINE.

[it seems that wanda doesn't know the words 'stay put', 'rest', or 'tell someone if you're going anywhere'. at the treehouse, she's pulled out her horse from the small stable area to get him all dressed up and suited in leather for a short trip.

sometimes, in the treehouse, she and the others have guests that they're not aware of. sometimes, if someone wants to sleep away from the settlement, or got caught out late at night around the area, they are free to stay—or come around for one of the meals. their doors are always open. this is very much the case, right now.

wanda tightens the bridle on her horse, then moves back inside towards the kitchen, to get her bag with some supplies—food and water, that is, not quite acknowledging whoever else might already be there, eating fruit loops with milk, or whatever other assortment for breakfast.]

Edited 2023-09-13 14:14 (UTC)

[wanda's idea of coming into nocwich is to have her fill of company that she can't otherwise get while in solvunn. it's not the same, seeing someone in person versus seeing them in the horizon, so she tries to make every moment count. it's been on her mind, though, how to be of some service to the other summoned—especially after the previous open dialogue she and istredd opened themselves to not too long ago.

if people want to learn high magic, then she'll start this weekend with it. she sends a quick message to all summoned with a general address and the time she'll be there, but has no idea how many people will actually take her up on this.

wanda has chosen a place by luna, towards the northern half of the peninsula. having made a reservation through glen's recommendation for a bit of privacy, wanda waits about fifteen minutes after she's settled before sighing and getting up on her feet. after the events of the past few weeks, with the monsters, she's been feeling a sense of dread creeping up on her. she's been feeling a little unwell, too. but it's because of the trouble she put others through that wanda wants to do this—to give something back.

she returns from the bar with a steaming cup of tea to find someone seated on the velvet couch she had been on before.]

Oh. I didn't — actually expect anyone to show up.

[this person is here for the high magic tutelage, aren't they? just in case, stepping closer and sitting down on the other end of the couch, she sets the cup down on the table.]

You're here to learn about High Magic, right?

[she just wants to make sure!]

Edited 2023-09-11 19:46 (UTC)

[wanda can already hear michael's arguments against her joining him to take on the tedious—but important—task of bringing back the lost spriggans to their homes. it's not that he wants to, but josie keeps nagging him about it, and wanda just so happened to be around when the conversation took place.]

If I hear one more person tell me I have to lie down and rest, I swear—

[it's no secret that she's been feeling weak as of late, bleeding from her nose and fainting (just the one time!) out in the fields. michael must certainly have heard of the circumstances around her health. whatever it is (and however they feel about one another, currently), michael is one of the few here in solvunn that she would not hesitate to act like a petulant, stubborn child around.

she follows after him, trying to plead her case, before he decides to fly off.]

I'll go by myself even if you say no.

Edited 2023-09-11 23:25 (UTC)

[the months scatter back towards a colder season, and it feels even cooler in nocwich where the sun doesn't shine. booked into their usual inn, wanda and matt spent some time reacquainting themselves with one another—an intimate affair by all accounts—and after a shower, she's all cozied up and ready to call it a night. matt's still in the en-suite bathroom when wanda attempts to use her magic to organize things in the room a bit—make it cozier, still.

but there's that familiar, recent rupture that forces her to stop; blood spills down from her nose, over her upper lip, and she breathes slowly as she brings a hand up so that she doesn't stain her clothes.

back into the bathroom she goes, over the sink, to lean her face over.

even with matt being blind, with him being unawares of the situation, he would very well be able to smell the blood—would be able to hear it dripping down her chin and unto the stone sink. as for wanda? she's not trying to hide it, so much as just trying to make it stop, shutting her eyes and brows furrowing.]

Edited 2023-09-11 20:00 (UTC)

[wanda really did not know there was a beer garden in nocwich, but when sam tells her about it—she's really not surprised that he'd know about it. it's good, though; once she returns to matt before the end of the day, she could bring him beer from the place and whatever food they sell.]

I really miss being able to wear jeans outside the Horizon.

[she says by way of greeting, joining sam at one of the tables scattered about. he isn't sitting yet, so she doesn't, either. the overhead lights that stream down a line like fairy lights really speaks of the ingenuity of the werewolves—the likely owners of this spot.

wanda's tired, and a tired wanda means that she's unwilling to fight appearances or the fact that she wants some amount of comfort. which is why she gives sam no chance to really look at her too closely before she's tucking herself against him, arms around him. they'd talked before about the fact that natasha was gone, and further looking into it confirmed the theory. it hurts, losing her all over again, but that's just how things are in abraxas.

they aren't permanent.]

There it is again.

[muttered—'it' being that pain that overwhelmed them when they had been returned, only to find out that natasha had sacrificed herself for the task.]

[wanda has a feeling that she was responsible for some rather… distasteful nightmares set out on jessica. what happened at that time, when she was in a trance by the skeletal beast’s instincts, remains a bit of a fog on her mind; matt refuses to tell her what she did, but perhaps jessica will be a little more eager about that.

and, if she wasn’t, wanda wouldn’t blame her.

sheepishly, she takes a seat next to the dark-haired woman by the counter, ignoring the noise from the tavern to the best of her ability. the crowd is a little rowdy today.]

You’re having something already?

—SOLVUNN • OTA • SEPTEMBER

—NOCWICH • OTA • SEPTEMBER

—SOLVUNN • MICHAEL • QUEST