| Welcome to Darkest Web: A Black Jewels Trilogy RPG. We hope you enjoy your visit. You're currently viewing our forum as a guest. This means you are limited to certain areas of the board and there are some features you can't use. If you join our community, you'll be able to access member-only sections, and use many member-only features such as customizing your profile, sending personal messages, and voting in polls. Registration is simple, fast, and completely free. Join our community! If you're already a member please log in to your account to access all of our features: |
| you made me .bury. something; *Mags* | |
|---|---|
| Tweet Topic Started: Jun 27 2007, 05:18 PM (319 Views) | |
| Jozuah Everard | Jun 27 2007, 05:18 PM Post #1 |
|
Unregistered
|
Jozuah knew that the moment Soleil and Rhone became aware, the moment they sensed that Rhaevin and Chansity were gone, his life was as good as forfeit. He used all the strength in his Opal to mask their absence as long as he could, but he already felt the irritation through the mark. Rhone was becoming aware, and she was not happy that he was using his Opal. He matched Soleil with that Opal, but he had never turned in on the young Queen, even before when she had worn the Rose. No... and Rhone if no one else knew why. He was terrified of Soleil, so terrified. Knowing that she would turn her wrath on him after this hadn't been enough to turn his back on Chansity and Rhaevin, but his skin trembled with the anticipation of his punishment. He turned when he heard the door slam. And so it would begin. "JOZUAH!" Soleil snapped, storming up to him. Jozuah gave a bored smile and turned, desperately hoping the ice could cover the fear. He was so unsteady, the ground spinning under him as he looked down at the young Queen that had his life in her hands. Her pale face was red with anger, flushed with her indignation. She raised her hand and brought it down, a slap across the face. Jozuah just stood there, let her do it. Her small, gloved little hand wasn't enough to truly hurt him. "WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!" She exclaimed. "You dirty little bastard you helped them, didn't you? You helped that Blake bitch and my pet escape!" Rhone appeared next. The mark was burning, and he could have sworn he smelled his own flesh on fire. He hissed, clutching his forearm close to his chest, and Soleil turned to Rhone. "He let them go, he HELPED them get AWAY! SEND SOMEONE AFTER THEM!" She barked. Rhone cooed at the girl before she send guards after them. Then Rhone turned to Jozuah, all of her hate burning in her eyes before she motioned to two of the guards. "Bring him. We'll handle this." Jozuah barely remembered what happened. The pain stopped mattering when they took the fireplace poker to him. After that being whipped wasn't so bad. He could smell the blood, feel the blood, but no matter how much he tried to reach for that wild part of him, it wouldn't come. He was broken, so damned broken. He just took it, with his eyes unfocused and his heart shattering on the floor. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered. He was left on the floor of that room, left to pick himself up and carry himself back to his room. Chansity and Rhaevin had always helped him, put their efforts into healing him when he protected them. But they were gone, they couldn't be touched anymore. Thank the Darkness. He made it to the hallway before he hit the floor and couldn't move. |
|
|
| Magdalena Everard | Jun 27 2007, 06:56 PM Post #2 |
![]()
Black Widow
![]()
|
The rage and anger that was pulsating from the room down the hall frightened Magdalena. She sat quietly on her bed waiting for the pulsing anger to subside, but it raged on. Never had cousin Soleil been this mad, and never had Grandmama egged her on quite so. Magdalena wished that Keiran could have been there to rock her and make her feel safe. She only felt better when Keiran was around. Magdalena had retired to her room after their mid-day lunch because she had begun to feel ill. Her mother, Christabella Everard, always brought her her lunch and it was a welcomed ritual in Magdalena’s turbulent world. Gratefully, Soleil avoided Magdalena usually because she too feared that Magda’s incessant sickness was contagious. If anything, Soleil kept Magdalena from attending functions that she would be at. This hurt her more than she would admit. Her mother ignored her except for when she was violently sick and her father would only visit between his trips to the Red Moon house. Keiran was the only one who was by her side always. Mags knew her cousins Chansity and Rhaevin had escaped the tyranny of their young cousin and Queen Soleil, but she hadn’t realized that Jozuah had helped them until now. She brought her knees up to her chin and hid her eyes that seemed too large for her face and tried to block out the sounds that drifted down the hallway. Soleil’s wicked laugh echoed while the sounds of whips punctuated every sizzle of the fire poker. Mags retreated to a place in her mind where the pain and terror that assailed everyday couldn’t reach her. The sound of whips stopped and Magdalena edged closer to the bed. Should she look? Should she put her feet down? She trembled as she thought of the germs that crawled like premoridal slime across her floor. She had had someone scrub it down before she came in to rest after lunch, but the amount of germs that could be on the floor now made the bile rise up her throat. There was a thump outside her door and was startled by the sound. She wished that Keiran was here, because he wouldn’t be afraid of the millions of germs that were now inhabiting her floor. “Kieran?” Perhaps it was him and he had brought her a present like he promised? With thoughts of Kieran in her mind, she scooted of the bed and with the merest hesitation stepped onto the floor and raced to the door. When she opened it though, she was horrifyingly disappointed that it was not her older brother Keiran outside her door with a present, but her older cousin Jozuah and he was looking incredibly worse for wear. The sight of his blood oozing from the various whip lashes made the bile once again rise up and threatened to spill out of her throat and the blackened skin from the fire poker made her eyes tear with the acidic smoky smell they gave off. “J…Jozuah?” Her fingers trembled like bony hummingbirds over his body. He must be covered with more germs than her floor. Her chest tightened as she thought of the amount of bacteria that must be crawling all over him and yet… he needed her help. There was no more Chansity or Rhaevin to help him. Keiran was no where to be found and Mama and Grandmama would only scold him further. Magdalena wrung her hands in worry and frustration. Perhaps if she wore gloves it wouldn’t be so bad. She skittered back into her bare room that verged on the point of sterile and slipped on her ladies’ gloves. She shuffled back to her cousin and wrapped her hands around his bicep and began to pull his considerably larger body into her room. His blood smeared across her shining floor and once he was in her room she raced to her sick pail and vomited. The sight, smell, and food from earlier made her stomach upend itself and she could no longer keep it down. |
![]() |
|
| Jozuah Everard | Jun 27 2007, 10:26 PM Post #3 |
|
Unregistered
|
Jozuah was vaguely aware that he was being dragged. It took only a second more to know it wasn't Soleil or Rhone doing it, and they weren't even near, so he did his best to help whoever it was along a bit. It was bad, he knew it was bad. He couldn't feel his back, the burns were taking too much of his attention. But the blood, oh Mother Night the blood, it was everywhere. Blood is the memory's river, but also the source of life. He whimpered as he collapsed down onto his arms, pinning a particularly bad burn between his chest and the wooden floor. Hissing his tried to shift and found he didn't have the strength to do it. Who... he shifted his head enough to look. Magdalena. Jozuah had to be honest, he'd had so little contact with the girl... Soleil had no use for her, and Jozuah was so rarely around her himself because of it. Sometimes Rhone had asked... ordered him to help her with something or the other, but Soleil was jealous with her pets and rarely permitted him to be shared with the other witches in the family, even when it came to fetch and carry sorts of tasks. He was shocked that she'd attempted to help him. She was such a germaphobe, everyone knew it. Sick all the time, and constantly whining about germs and the like. She was one of the more gently reared of the cousins. Because of the almost constant childhood illness, Soleil hadn't wanted anything to do with her. "Magda..." he couldn't even finish her name. His tongue was thick in his mouth, dry and sticking to the roof of his mouth when he tried talking. He closed his eyes and tried to draw on the Opal. He wasn't wearing them, he wasn't allowed, but he could still find solace in the power that was his. He knew enough healing Craft to begin to knit the damage, the worst of it. "Water...?" he managed. He needed water if nothing else this cousin could offer. First the burns that were sapping so much of the strength out of his arms and torso. He was no Healer, but he knew the theory. Darkness, he hoped this worked. |
|
|
| Magdalena Everard | Jun 28 2007, 02:30 PM Post #4 |
![]()
Black Widow
![]()
|
When Jozuah whispered for water, Magdalena lifted her head from her sick pail only to vomit once again at the sight of blood pooling on her germ ridden floor. What had she been thinking? How could she have thought she was strong enough to help him. Her pain-filled blue eyes squeezed shut as tears dripped down her cheeks unchecked. She knew that she was covered in germs now – they were what made her so sick and made it so difficult for her to find a place in the Court. Everyone had a place even her brother Keiran had a place and for as much as Mags loved him she still resented that he knew his place in the family. Once she felt like she was in control of the contents of her stomach (mostly because there were no more contents) she skittered once again on her thin willowy limbs to her personal bathroom. She was one of the few who were granted such a luxury mostly because when she was younger she’d had a few mistakes in the hall way that had caused her Grandmama and Soleil to be cross with her. Her mother, in an effort to placate Rhone, had convinced Soleil to give her a bathroom that she could use so she would no longer have to run down the germ ridden hallway to get to the bathroom. She eyed her own drinking glass. It was always sterilized after she used it and the idea of someone else’s lips touching the rim (even if he were her cousin) made her stomach grumble in protest. Still she swallowed it down. She had to be strong like her cousins… strong like her brother… strong like Jozuah. She filled the crystal glass with cool water and shuffled back to her cousin. He was already starting to try and heal himself and use the energy which he needed to heal. She shook her head. She pulled a few cloth pillows from her closet and propped him up against her bed to help him drink the cool, crisp water. She, of anyone, should know how to heal cuts and other wounds. When she was younger and her sickness had taken a turn for the worst, her mother had hired a skilled doctor who said that her illness was because of her weak blood. He pulled out numerous leaches and scalpels to “bleed” the bad blood from her. When he finished he hardly cleaned her up and she was left with oozing wounds and a mother with a weak constitution who had to excuse herself. She had laid in bed bleeding for a half an hour before Keiran came in to check on her. He’d swore and rushed to her side and took it upon himself that night to teach her how to clean wounds properly and bind them up. He’d even given her ointment to reduce the amount of scars she would have from all the cutting the doctor did. She still bore thin white lines across her arms and legs, but her skin was so pale from never going outside that they were difficult to see. As Jozuah sipped the water, Magdalena reached under her bed with a fractured sob as dust fell on her arms and pulled out a chest. Before she could continue she had to run back to her bathroom and scrub the dust and dirt and blood from her hands. Once they were clean again she slipped on a different pair of gloves and took a shaky breath. She kept repeating a mantra of strength in her head as she once again joined Jozuah at his side. She wanted to close her eyes as she pulled out a bottle of alcohol and cloth pads to clean his wounds. She was no Healer, and she was somewhat of a joke as a Black Widow as well, but at least she could manually clean wounds. “Jozuah, it’ll… it’ll sting,” she whispered as she poured a good amount of alcohol over his chest and began to blot the wounds. He was no where near strong enough to heal himself, but perhaps if Mags helped him he would at least escape infection. |
![]() |
|
| Katrina Everard | Jun 29 2007, 03:08 AM Post #5 |
|
Healer Queen
![]()
|
Pain, Anger, Pain, Anger… All around her radiating throughout the house and the room, she had been causing the young child to curl up in a ball in the darkest corner of the unfamiliar room. She buried her head into her knees and prayed to the darkness that it would be all over soon. Tears ran down her face as she wondered just what kind of place her parents let her be whisking off too. She sat there, curled up in the ball, hoping that everything will just go away until the Anger swept out of the house. However, the pain was still there… Still overwhelming her small mind and body… It called to her… called to the healer side of her nature. So she slowly stood up and moved her away to the door. Carefully opening the large door, the small child poked her head out just in time to see the blood Warlord Prince get dragged into a room not to far away from her own. Shutting the door once more, she closed her eyes as she tried to fight off the disbelief about what she just saw. Why was there a bloody man crawling through the halls and no one healer running to help him. It was just barbaric and mean and just… just wrong. She pressed her eyes closed as she tried to keep herself from slipping back into that scared little child mode and opened the door once more. Taking the first step out into the hallways was a painstaking process, she didn’t know what else would be in that hallway, but she was a healer and her father had taught her what that meant even if no one here understood that. With each step, her breath became more ragged and she had to close her eyes a few more times to keep from running away. No she would get to the room and soon enough she was there. Carefully, she rotated the doorknob and slowly opened the door. Much like a person in a honor movie, she didn’t know what she might find behind the door, and she was ready to jump at the slightest movement. But bit by bit, she quietly slipped into the room. No word was said as she skirted the blood pooling on the floor and moved closer to the hurt Warlord Prince. She had just received her birthright, but her sister and father made sure that she had as much knowledge about the healing craft long before she received her jewel. Once next to his side, she kneeled down beside him not even caring if she was getting blood on her clothing. He was in pain and she was going to help. Clumsy gathering up the Green strength that had just been given to her, she reached to try and heal the dying man. |
![]() |
|
| Jozuah Everard | Jul 3 2007, 12:34 PM Post #6 |
|
Unregistered
|
Jozuah found a shred of his own sanity in the cleansing burn of alcohol and small, inexpert hands that pressed against him. Eyes that had been nearly lifeless fought back to life. He sensed her. A young Queen. A very young Queen. The little Green that had been brought back not so long ago. Jozuah knew of her, even if he had only seen her in passing once. He raised a shaky hand to lay over one of hers and rose out of the Abyss, away from his Birthright and his comfort. The Opal, the crisp cold Opal. He cherished that cold, but for now he needed to be aware, to aid in the healing in whatever way he could. He could feel his spirit mending and his body rousing to heal. The disinfectant helped, the Healer-child finished. He blinked once, twice, again, and finally dared to try and push himself up just a bit. He would not let the child overtax herself. She may have the power of the Green at her fingertips, gloriously dark and on equal footing with Rhone but she could lose herself in a healing of this magnitude if she was not careful. She was not yet accustomed to her strength and the Green would eat her alive if she wasn't careful. *Little One, let me show you where best to use your strength.* He wouldn't tell her not to help. He needed her or he would die, and she wouldn't leave. She was a Healer and a Queen, two castes not known for their self-preservation streak. He carefully brushed against the girl's inner barriers, asking politely for entrance. Once inside he could show her where best to apply the healing strength she was using; places that were life threatening. Once those were healed, he would survive and she could rest. *I mean you no harm, childling.* Oddly, he looked at the floor of the room and felt a swell of guilt. He'd gotten blood all over Magdalena's floor. Knowing the girl, she probably couldn't sleep in here anymore. Soleil would be irritated, but that was one cousin that she couldn't just destroy without consequences, and she knew it. He would apologize to his cousin for dirtying her floor. She had shown more courage today that he had ever believed she possessed. |
|
|
| Magdalena Everard | Jul 3 2007, 08:28 PM Post #7 |
![]()
Black Widow
![]()
|
Magdalena was slightly shocked at the sight of the young Healer Queen entering her room. This was more people in her room than she had had for a very long time. Her mother only visited her when Magdalena was too weak to make it to the dining hall, and her only other regular visitor was her brother Keiran. Her room had maintained it’s sterility for years and in one bloody evening it had become a room of nightmares for her. Her only protection were the white gloves that were now sheer with alcohol and the disinfectant that had spilled from Jozuah’s chest to create a liquid moat of bacteria killing ethanol. Magdalena’s classic Everard eyes narrowed on the young Healer Queen. Her mind raced as she tried to place her name… Katie, Katty, Katrina? There had probably been an official welcoming ceremony, or adoption ceremony by Rhone that Magdalena hadn’t been invited to. She was never invited to any of the Court functions, which made Magdalena resent those who could. Even though Katrina was nine years younger than herself, Magdalena felt a strange sense of camaraderie to her. Both girls were unpracticed in their craft and unsure of their place in the Everard Court and family. Yet, Magdalena felt a sense of embarrassment that a girl of eight or nine years old and having just received her birthright jewel knew more about her caste and calling than a seventeen year old woman who’s birthright ceremony was almost ten years ago. Katrina was like a salmon… fighting against the strong current of the Everard’s to find her way in the world. Once Jozuah seemed out of the danger of dying, Magdalena slide back away from her cousins. Even with the dosing of alcohol they could still all be covered in germs, yet what she wouldn’t say is that she didn’t want the freshly healed Jozuah and young Katrina to become sick like herself. Magdalena’s biggest fear was that her constant illness was as contagious as Soleil herself feared. Magdalena felt the weakness steal through her limbs and her pale skin took on a very gray hue. Her room was so dirty now… so filthy… so rancid. Her obsessive mind could no longer be strong in the face of such enormous fears. Her slate blue eyes went wide as the Black Widow slowly gave into her hysterical fears and inched away on the sterile marble floor. |
![]() |
|
| Katrina Everard | Jul 6 2007, 09:11 PM Post #8 |
|
Healer Queen
![]()
|
Katrina filched as Jozuah’s mind brushed up against her inner barriers. Her father had taught her to never let anyone in to the most sacred of places. She turned her head to look at him in the eyes, and tried not to flinch when his eyes met hers. He stated that he meant her no harm, but many things evil things could be coated in sugar. It was something she was taught the moment she was old enough to understand. But she needed help. She knew the basic art of healing from what her sister taught her, but the Green kept slipping out of her grasp. How could the jewel that she had been gifted with fight her so much. She needed its strength now, and yet it seemed to be unwilling to let her have it. She opened her mind just enough to let the Opal Jeweled Warlord Prince in. Extremely ordered for an eight year old, the mind of this Healer Queen radiated with a maturity that someone of her few years should ever have. It was orderly inside and the healing that she was doing was foremost in her head. She allowed Jozuah give her the help she needed to do the healing. But towards the end, her mind kept slipping as the Black Widow inched away her them… fear being to radiate throughout the room. She didn’t know why the woman was scared, only that she was. It made the Healer Queen flinched with anxiety. Could she be scared of her? Her father had always told her to keep her distance from those that might fear her. Closing her eyes, she tried to block everything else out as she finished up the healing. |
![]() |
|
| Rhone Everard | Jul 22 2007, 10:39 PM Post #9 |
|
Unregistered
|
Rhone had left Jozuah to clean up his own mess after the beating. How in the hell had he DARED to... oh, but never mind that. She couldn't let Soleil's pet die on the floor. She would heal him up enough so he would not die. That would make things difficult: Soleil was so attached to her pet and taking the time to train another one to that degree would simply take up too much time. Steeling her chin, she expected to find him in the punishment chamber, but he was not. Her brow wrinkling, until she told herself that that would cause wrinkles, she turned back and looked about. The trial of blood was not hard to follow, but the direction it went perplexed her. Why had Jozuah gone this way, and the trail seemed to lead into a room. A moment's thought brought a name to Rhone's mind. Magdalena. The girl didn't have the brains or backbone to help a pet, especially with her fears eating her alive. She would never be useful to this family, but at least it was simple to keep the little brat quiet and out of her way. Now, though, helping Jozuah. That showed more fire than Rhone had suspected lived in that child's entire being. She did not bother to knock. Opening the door, she was in for another surprise. The child Queen that had recently come to Soleil's home. Katrina. The family only had interest because she had walked away with the Green as her Birthright. She was in no way in line to be family matriarch, but power like that could not be discounted or ignored. Rhone took in what had happened and narrowed her eyes barely perceptibly. Jozuah spotted her first, his survival instinct the most well developed of the collective, and Rhone fought the smile when he hissed, trying to push himself to standing. He managed to get to his knees before he fell forward onto his hands. She was content with that and took one step into the room. "Magdalena, dear, you are having a party and did not invite me?" She gave a scathing look to the girl, but nothing that could be considered outwardly intimidating or rude. "And you, Katrina, are you not supposed to be studying. However are you to become a cultured Lady without learning or a sense of propriety. Get up girl, the servants will see to him. You come as well, Magdalena, while we get someone to clean your room of this dirt." She turned and expected both to follow. |
|
|
| Magdalena Everard | Jul 23 2007, 01:57 AM Post #10 |
![]()
Black Widow
![]()
|
As the door opened, Magdalena was struck with paralyzing fear. It was Grandmama and she was looking displeased. There was nothing that scared Magdalena more than an angry Rhone. As it was Magdalena was almost hysterical with her fear for the bacteria that was now crawling in the room, on the floor, up her leg… She choked down a scream that was crawling up her throat. There was something in the way that Rhone looked at her that seemed to scare her right back into reality. A part of her worried for Jozuah’s health and what Soleil would do to him once she found out that Magda had tried to care for him. Ultimately her fears held her back as they always did. She was the one cousin that Soleil never needed to worry would try to leave. The world was an unforgiving place and Magdalena was unprepared to live in a world filled with danger. She would rather live where the danger was sterile, sharp, and masked in a thin veneer of civility. At least she knew the dangers here. When Rhone rebuffed her, Magdalena hung her head in shame. She knew what they all thought of her, but there was nothing she could do to change it. She was sickly and she wasn’t smart like her other cousins… she was expendable. She knew this, but she lived in a world of pretty denial. "Magdalena, dear, you are having a party and did not invite me?" Magdalena stuttered her apology. “I’m sorry, Grandmama, I… if I had known… there was so much blo —“ She ducked her head in embarrassment. Jozuah must think her so weak. Nothing like Chansity or Rhaevin or even Keiran. Even Katrina was stronger than Magdalena right now. She trembled like a leaf under the unwithering glare of Rhone. Christabella had Rhone’s eyes. Those same eyes that gave the look of disgust that always made Magdalena’s insides turn to goo. "And you, Katrina, are you not supposed to be studying. However are you to become a cultured Lady without learning or a sense of propriety. Get up girl, the servants will see to him. You come as well, Magdalena, while we get someone to clean your room of this dirt." Magdalena scrambled to stand but without having her hands touch the grimy floor or slip on Jozuah’s congealing blood. Magdalena was mad at herself for not being strong, and not being able to say “No, Grandmama! I will not!” She was angry at herself for not staying at Jozuah’s side and helping him through the pain. She snapped to attention like a trained puppet and followed Rhone out with her hands stretched out from her sides so that her hands wouldn’t touch her blood spattered and germ covered dress. |
![]() |
|
| 1 user reading this topic (1 Guest and 0 Anonymous) | |
| « Previous Topic · Everard Estate · Next Topic » |










7:27 PM Jul 11