abraxaslogs | • OPEN •

[returning from the nether, the summoned seem to be in a bit of a better mood. getting to meet and care for dragon hatchlings probably does that to someone, but it's generally considered a really good thing if there isn't any fighting to be done. the elders of the commune seem, too, happy with the newly accessible shrine. it isn't for anyone else to see, but that ought to keep the commune busy for now, especially with the general populace working to gather and package the promised grains and water to the nether.]

( A ) TEACHING RUNES.

[and while that is happening a lot of the adult population finds itself scattered to complete the additional tasks, leaving children with half days of school, running about and needing to entertain themselves. the demand for people to tend to the children is high, and after a day or two, wanda's made it to the primary settlement with a basketful of round wood chips.

she calls the children to the school's yard, sitting them down in the benches she's organized for them. today is an arts and crafts day, wherein the children have their paints, the provided wooden chips, and pieces of twine. wanda sits with the small groups, one at a time, to see how they're doing. they can paint their names onto the chips, or draw something onto them; make necklaces out of them or chains with the twine.

for those who ask, wanda takes a moment to draw runes for them to copy.]

They have different meanings. [she says aloud, leaning back from where she's crouching, to get the attention of whatever child is willing to listen.] Some are for protection, others for good luck. You can make your chains and offer them to the shrines, too.

[standing up, she asks.]

Who can show me the one for courage?

[a series of hands shoot up, along with an enthused chorus of kids wanting her attention.]

Me! Miss! Come look!

No—me first! Eljas always goes!

Alright, one at a time.

[she could benefit from the help, as a group of children follow her towards the bench that she's going to first, to peek over her shoulder to see if their friend has gotten the answer right, hands holding onto their own depictions, ready to show them off just in case.]

( B ) DIVINATION PRACTICE.

[most days, when wanda isn't in the primary settlement helping with the kids or helping with chores, she tends to the treehouse. there is a lot of cleaning to do, considering how big the place is, and laundry is always a bigger task to accomplish when there isn't a washing machine at hand. sunny days this time of the year are few and far in between, so whenever the sun peeks out from the usual accumulation of clouds for a rare day of blue skies, she takes advantage of that moment to put the wet clothes to dry up on clotheslines in the garden.

anyone who comes to visit, however, will find that wanda is sitting by the smaller of the black eye lakes, grey betty. close to the shore, she doesn't seem to mind to be getting her clothes wet—poised forward, her hands skimming over the water. the placid lake glitters brightly under the early afternoon sun. wanda seems to be enthralled by the lights, and not a moment too soon before she lets her hands to sink in the water, touching the floor of the shoreline, the water reaching her elbows. the rustle of the breeze plays a tune between the branches as it picks up, the ripples caused by the disruption of her hands in the water growing around her. the sunlight reflected shines into her eyes, and prisms of light dance on her face.

her shoulders relax and her head lulls to the side, as she sees images reflected back at her, until the ripples come to a halt and the lake stills again.

wanda draws a breath and sits back, pushing wet hands onto her face and closing her eyes as she tilts her head up towards the skies. even through her eyelids she can see the scoring of the light dotting her sight, so she waits for it to dissipate a little. it doesn't stop her from speaking as she hears the scuffle of the ground behind her.]

It's scrying, Nero. With an 's'. [clearly this is something she's had a discussion about before. she pushes some water onto her face again, rubbing at her eyes.] I'm not crying.

( C ) PRAYING TO OLD GODS.

[soris immaneus' shrine is deep in the woods where many dead are said to have been lost and swallowed by the earth, both animal and human. she doesn't question how long they've been there for, but she knows that they are primarily animal. though her visits are daily, she travels by horse on her trusted clover, who keeps her company as she gathers the skeletal remains that predators leave behind after their hunts. at this point, she thinks she's picked up most of the human remains along the roadways, but at times she'll find something new as the seasons change—as the rain shifts the ground and the vegetation recedes.

clover snorts as wanda ties the leather bag with the remains onto the saddle.]

I know you don't like it. [she coos, patting lightly her horse's muzzle. it's a tall horse, and that makes it a little funnier that clover is easily scared because of bones in a familiar path.] We're almost there.

[the rest of the way, wanda simply holds onto the bridle and walks in front of clover as she makes her way further into the woods. before reaching the clearing with the shrine, wanda leaves clover to graze nearby, taking hold of the bag and putting it over her shoulder to carry the rest of the way. she stops at a tree that already boasts a collection of tied ribbons and adds another.]

A token from Endrborrin. [she states, starting her communication with soris. walking up the couple of mossy steps to the shrine, she sets the bag down on the ground by a rock.] I'm sure you know she sends her regards.

[not that wanda is too open to that communication with endrborrin, only feeling a faint sense of warmth and comfort whenever she travels to the shrine in the secondary settlement. whenever she practices her divination and scrying, calling upon the apparent friendship between both goddesses.

from a pocket, she pulls out a small knife.]

I think I finally understand what's been happening with my magic.

[why she felt so weak after conjuring strong spells and using it for a long time. another gift from the singularity, and one that through weeks of meditating she's finally gotten the answer for.

kneeling before the rock the protrudes from the shrine, she starts by carving a circle within the moss.]

I want to try this first.

Edited 2023-11-04 15:27 (UTC)

[out of the three days that nocwich is open for the month, wanda heads in on the second one. she has some business to conduct—straight to the point and no need to meander or stay longer than what she intends to. she meets with the men (—always business with them—) that she needs to, and then heads for the shops and stalls of the oleuni square's marketplace.

today, she is not shopping for jewelry.

there are some coins that she's taken from rocket's collection (he'll live) to make these purchases: herbs and flowers, elixirs, along with werewolf hair, vampire blood, buttons made from discarded teeth. she doesn't really ask any questions, and the vendors are more than happy to give her what she needs as long as she has the coin to spare.

there are some contraptions made of twigs and twine, along with doll-sized effigies that she takes with her. all this to go to the wagon yard, to find someone who'd be willing to help her create something specific. when another owner of a stall in the yard turns her away, wanda moves towards another, a frown on her brow.

—she'll bump into someone in the process, but—luckily—nothing spills, remaining in her bag.]

Sorry. Do you know where Virve is? He's the one usually in the pottery stand, but he's not — around today.

[which is a disappointment.]

[the crescent spots, tucked away in a corner of luna, is a place that wanda's been recommended to by her most esteemed jewelry vendor, glen. it's a private place with a strict rule on who goes in at any time, so it is, in fact, the perfect place to talk about what they've been discussing.

it will be the first time that the three of them sit together for these matters, so the place chosen will cost a bit of a pretty penny. but that's what viktor is here for, right?

wanda's given out their names at the front desk, and both men, upon arrival, shall be brought up to the room that wanda's sequestered herself in. three cups of tea are already set on the table between the three, cushioned arm chairs; the fire in the hearth warming up the room. wanda herself is sitting, her back to the window, facing the door.]

I've got a few coins to foot the bill.

[is what she says by means of a greeting, taking the cup from the desk and bringing it towards her as she leans back.]

It's a black tea blend. [y'all better drink!!] If any of you is hungry, we can ask for food.

[she isn't.]

Edited 2023-11-04 14:23 (UTC)

[sometimes, the treehouse is completely empty. wanda can count in one hand the amount of nights that she's spent alone in the treehouse, only for her roommates to show up at some point during the morning. she's also guilty of spending the night elsewhere, at times, so it's not really unusual.

much like tonight being one of those nights that the treehouse is incredibly quiet. wanda had stumbled into bed, expecting the silence to imply the himeka and nero were out. and sleep, to be honest? comes easy to her tonight.

but living in a treehouse, surrounded by forest, means that there are sounds that can inspire one's imagination to soar. it digs at one's subconscious, gnawing towards the instinct of survival every living creature has.

wanda startles awake, sitting up on her bed, dot asleep on her lap, at the same time as rocket climbs down from somewhere in the ceiling.]

What are you doing?

[she hisses, alarmed, trying to completely ignore the fact that it was a sound that awakened her and not rocket sneaking like a ninja into her room. he's only a silhouette in the dark, but—everything is a silhouette right now.]

Edited 2023-11-04 02:11 (UTC)

[unsurprisingly, matt wasn't in nocwich. he's said it plenty of times before that the only reason he ever goes through the trouble of making the long journey to the portal that leads there is because of her. at this point in time, nocwich has become so strongly tied to matt, in wanda's experience, that she doesn't really want to be there without him, either.

she goes to do what she needs to do, meet with whom she had already promised to meet, and then makes her way back. she still insists, sending matt messages through the connection they keep with the singularity, despite knowing he won't reply to them.

wanda is also not naive enough to expect him to be in the horizon, either, but she fails to neatly put away those emotions that push her to go, anyway, into matt's domain. hopeful—wistful—all too ready to be disappointed anew. it's not the first day she's been here, though, that much is true, and she moves about the place, stepping over the rubble and broken-up streets that were her making, so many weeks ago. matt never got around to fix it—because matt's never been too keen about the upkeep in his domain. it really shows, with the lines blurring and the shapes of the buildings of this corner of hell's kitchen a mess to try and parse. it hits her how much effort matt's had to put to give actual solid shape to his place for the benefit of others.

mary wags her tail beside wanda, as she steps up over the broken-up roof of what was matt's apartment. a roof they had shared intimate conversations in, fell in love with one another; shared smiles and laughter, despite all the pain they both kept inside. inside his apartment, the neon billboard across dilapidated, split in the middle, making a sad sound as it attempts to remain on. wanda pushes her hand against the blurred out window, trying to straighten out the lines; only after, does she crouch to pick at the pieces of glass that had fallen from the panes. the dog, for her part, tries climbing up on one of the chairs, sniffing at it.]

You should have told me what I did.

[she mutters to herself, lamenting, with tears in her eyes, all the damage that she had done and he never told her about; never allowed her to be burdened with. it was all for him to bear in her stead.

wanda wishes that matt would let her carry this weight, too. not for him, but with him.]

[from the open window in her room, wanda's horizon spreads out in a blanket of autumn colors, the fog clouding up any signs of the sun, but making it so it's nice and chilly outside. wanda misses winter, and wishes it would snow in solvunn; for now, she looks forward to that change in the seasons in her horizon. this might also be the last time she looks at her horizon, properly, from this vantage point.

taking a few steps back into the room and towards her bed, feet bare and herself cozy, there is a raven perched on her wrist; its feathers shine between blues and grays, it's glossy finish a dark black. this is the same raven that had guided hilda to the house, earlier, but had its trip interrupted halfway as wanda herself went to meet the pink-haired woman.]

I think this might be the last raven I have without a name.

[six of its brothers and sisters have been named already, but this one had been without a name the longest. a little lost, waiting for someone to make it whole.

sitting down on the corner of the bed, wanda offers her hand over towards hilda. even with the window open letting the cool autumn air in, the fireplace in the corner keeps the room warm, the fire breaking and cracking at the logs. on the bed, mary leans cozily against hilda, having quickly grown acquainted with the new person in the domain; while matt's own domain is in shambles, mary gets to find wanda's space her home.]

It's yours to name, Hilda.

Edited 2023-11-04 20:56 (UTC)

—SOLVUNN • OTA • NOVEMBER

—NOCWICH • OTA • NOVEMBER

—NOCWICH • VIKTOR & STEPHEN

—SOLVUNN • ROCKET

—HORIZON • MATT

—HORIZON • HILDA