Ghosts of Yesteryear Eda's getting more than a little bored patrolling the fence surrounding Dogtown. While she's very curious about this particular rash of reports—hard not to be when it's this witch focused after all—she’s still having trouble staying focused on staring at the woods. Especially with the occasional little creature scurrying through the underbrush.
But it just happens that one such noise draws her attention towards… it’s surprisingly hard to tell if that figure is one of the trees, but after a moment she's certain. The proportions are odd, but it's definitely an old woman—who turns and is seemingly swallowed up by the ground once Eda approaches the fence and makes eye contact with her.
“Hey! Wait, I just want to talk. One witch to another, yeah?”
Outfoxed at Foxhill [Closed to Raine] “You sure about this, Rainstorm? I mean there's no one I'd rather explore the monster-infested woods with…” All the same, she left the implied but hanging there. Dogtown was one thing that was exactly as dangerous as the ADI said, in her experience. Which wasn't to say that Raine couldn't take care of themself, but she wasn't completely sure how they were doing for magic, and physical fights weren't necessarily their strongest area.
That said, Dogtown seemed to be… behaving itself, for a given value. Or at least no one seemed to actually be running into those monsters lately. But that was part of what had her a little on edge.
“But I don't know if I trust how quiet it is,” was what she settled on. So far the walk through the trees was frankly nice. Tamer than the forests on the Isles were likely to be, even. It would almost feel like a simple hiking date, if not for the fact Eda didn't fully expect things to stay nice. Or the fact they were looking for the ghost of a local witch—then again, that felt like the sort of afternoon adventure she and Raine would have come up with when they were kids. She couldn't help feeling a little nostalgic at the thought.
She reached to absently adjust the backpack that sat between her—currently glamoured—wings. It was mostly supplies they might actually need, but there was also a soft clink of glass. From everything Eda had read about the witch ‘queen,’ homemade apple blood (or at least a half decent approximation) wouldn't be amiss for a peace offering.
Those Meddling Kids I. “You know, if we were back home I could definitely cobble together something for tracking ghosts,” Eda muses casually to whoever chose—or was volunteered—to go ghost hunting with her. It's hard to tell how serious this is, but hey– no one here can prove her wrong, right?
Not that she’s certain whether the sightings are ghosts, at least maybe not all of them. But she’d like to find an actual ghost. Honestly, she’d like to find anything. She's starting to think maybe they ought to try splitting up.
II. Another night, Eda has significantly better luck hunting on her own, though what she’s caught definitely isn’t a ghost.
If someone passes by a certain back alley that just happened to be a dead end, they might notice a few drips of glow-in-the-dark paint leading into it. Or they might overhear bits and pieces of a conversation between Eda and a younger-sounding, anxious voice.
Bits and pieces like oh calm down, do I look like someone who talks to cops? or this thing you’re doing, it’s pretty cool.
And You Must Ask Yourself [cw: the prompt + (mild) body horror] Eda always used to like spiders.
She didn’t even see why everyone kicked up such a fuss about the ones with the cute little hands a few months back.
Eda’s getting really damn tired of spiders.
The first nightmare was perhaps still the worst. Or at least the most personal. Someone she very much loves and trusts being the one to catch her in their web, trap and bind and poison her.
But the nightmares plaguing her since her unpleasant bus ride aren’t exactly a good time either. The exact content varies, but the most recurring theme is control. Puppet strings guiding her through the motions of things she’d never do, or toward some unknown destination.
That’s what it is tonight. Following a forest path even as she struggles, tiny spiders coursing down the strings of web that pull her along, weaving them thicker and stronger.
She still feels them as she blinks awake. Spiders on her skin, or maybe under it. Tiny little feet crawling through the veins in her wrist.
Not fully conscious, Eda responds to the discomfort by pulling her lower arm off. It separates neatly, the joint coming apart with a little pop that she’s long since gotten used to. She tosses it to the side instinctually.
The crawling, tingling sensation fades as she sits up, suddenly alert and deeply lost. Normally when she wakes up from one of these nightmares she’s doing something only mildly out of character, like cooking breakfast at a reasonable hour.
This is the first time she’s dreamt of the woods and woken up there.
She’s startled as she spots whoever happens to be nearby. If you’re lucky, you simply have a witch staring at you in slightly sleepy confusion. If you’re less lucky, you just got smacked with a severed arm bearing a spider web shaped tattoo on the wrist. There are probably worse ways to be woken up, right?
Wildcard! Feel free to throw a starter at me or hit me up on discord at Ilya#4143 or badgirlcoven
Edalyn Clawthorne | The Owl House | OTA
Eda's getting more than a little bored patrolling the fence surrounding Dogtown. While she's very curious about this particular rash of reports—hard not to be when it's this witch focused after all—she’s still having trouble staying focused on staring at the woods. Especially with the occasional little creature scurrying through the underbrush.
But it just happens that one such noise draws her attention towards… it’s surprisingly hard to tell if that figure is one of the trees, but after a moment she's certain. The proportions are odd, but it's definitely an old woman—who turns and is seemingly swallowed up by the ground once Eda approaches the fence and makes eye contact with her.
“Hey! Wait, I just want to talk. One witch to another, yeah?”
Outfoxed at Foxhill [Closed to Raine]
“You sure about this, Rainstorm? I mean there's no one I'd rather explore the monster-infested woods with…” All the same, she left the implied but hanging there. Dogtown was one thing that was exactly as dangerous as the ADI said, in her experience. Which wasn't to say that Raine couldn't take care of themself, but she wasn't completely sure how they were doing for magic, and physical fights weren't necessarily their strongest area.
That said, Dogtown seemed to be… behaving itself, for a given value. Or at least no one seemed to actually be running into those monsters lately. But that was part of what had her a little on edge.
“But I don't know if I trust how quiet it is,” was what she settled on. So far the walk through the trees was frankly nice. Tamer than the forests on the Isles were likely to be, even. It would almost feel like a simple hiking date, if not for the fact Eda didn't fully expect things to stay nice. Or the fact they were looking for the ghost of a local witch—then again, that felt like the sort of afternoon adventure she and Raine would have come up with when they were kids. She couldn't help feeling a little nostalgic at the thought.
She reached to absently adjust the backpack that sat between her—currently glamoured—wings. It was mostly supplies they might actually need, but there was also a soft clink of glass. From everything Eda had read about the witch ‘queen,’ homemade apple blood (or at least a half decent approximation) wouldn't be amiss for a peace offering.
Those Meddling Kids
I. “You know, if we were back home I could definitely cobble together something for tracking ghosts,” Eda muses casually to whoever chose—or was volunteered—to go ghost hunting with her. It's hard to tell how serious this is, but hey– no one here can prove her wrong, right?
Not that she’s certain whether the sightings are ghosts, at least maybe not all of them. But she’d like to find an actual ghost. Honestly, she’d like to find anything. She's starting to think maybe they ought to try splitting up.
II. Another night, Eda has significantly better luck hunting on her own, though what she’s caught definitely isn’t a ghost.
If someone passes by a certain back alley that just happened to be a dead end, they might notice a few drips of glow-in-the-dark paint leading into it. Or they might overhear bits and pieces of a conversation between Eda and a younger-sounding, anxious voice.
Bits and pieces like oh calm down, do I look like someone who talks to cops? or this thing you’re doing, it’s pretty cool.
And You Must Ask Yourself [cw: the prompt + (mild) body horror]
Eda always used to like spiders.
She didn’t even see why everyone kicked up such a fuss about the ones with the cute little hands a few months back.
Eda’s getting really damn tired of spiders.
The first nightmare was perhaps still the worst. Or at least the most personal. Someone she very much loves and trusts being the one to catch her in their web, trap and bind and poison her.
But the nightmares plaguing her since her unpleasant bus ride aren’t exactly a good time either. The exact content varies, but the most recurring theme is control. Puppet strings guiding her through the motions of things she’d never do, or toward some unknown destination.
That’s what it is tonight. Following a forest path even as she struggles, tiny spiders coursing down the strings of web that pull her along, weaving them thicker and stronger.
She still feels them as she blinks awake. Spiders on her skin, or maybe under it. Tiny little feet crawling through the veins in her wrist.
Not fully conscious, Eda responds to the discomfort by pulling her lower arm off. It separates neatly, the joint coming apart with a little pop that she’s long since gotten used to. She tosses it to the side instinctually.
The crawling, tingling sensation fades as she sits up, suddenly alert and deeply lost. Normally when she wakes up from one of these nightmares she’s doing something only mildly out of character, like cooking breakfast at a reasonable hour.
This is the first time she’s dreamt of the woods and woken up there.
She’s startled as she spots whoever happens to be nearby. If you’re lucky, you simply have a witch staring at you in slightly sleepy confusion. If you’re less lucky, you just got smacked with a severed arm bearing a spider web shaped tattoo on the wrist. There are probably worse ways to be woken up, right?
Wildcard!
Feel free to throw a starter at me or hit me up on discord at Ilya#4143 or