i. (cw: animal attack, major injury, blood, eye trauma, possession/lack of agency)
While Eda’s on the lookout for artifacts, she hasn’t heard about the mirrors yet. And so it comes at a complete surprise when she catches a shock of very red hair out of the corner of her eye.
The girl visible in the mirror might be recognisable to people who’ve seen Eda as a witch or a human, although she’s a good thirty years younger. A small teenager with no signs of her future hair colour, and two matching amber eyes.
The scene playing out in the mirror appears to be an average domestic moment, Eda at home with her sister—an older girl with wildly curly, darker red hair—and their mother, a middle aged woman with soft features and short brown hair.
For a brief moment, Eda is more puzzled than anything else. In fact there's even a pang of soft nostalgia as she watches herself help set the table.
And then her heart sinks as she watches the door to the house open. A man who looks quite a bit like Eda’s younger self walks in, calls her pumpkin and ruffles her hair.
Eda tries and fails to tear her eyes away as her father grins cheerfully and produces a party popper from his coat. It’s almost funny what a small, innocent looking thing it is, for all the trouble it lead to.
“I won't be home for a while, so that's why tonight… I'll be leavin' in style!”
And then a few things happen in very quick succession. The popper goes off, fireworks exploding in the living room over their heads with a dazzling flash. The teen Eda’s eyes widen, and she looks dazed and overwhelmed by the light.
…Until her eyes go solid black. She hunches over in pain and lets out a bird-like shriek as her form begins to twist into something larger, animalistic and covered in feathers.
ii. (cw: animal attack, potentially graphic injury, possession/lack of agency)
Another scene starts in an equally innocuous way, but Eda is quicker to guess where this one is going. And to regret that it’s so easy to lock eyes with a mirror, even when she’s doing her best to watch for them.
“No, I don’t–I don’t need to see this right now.” Things are going so well lately.
The young woman in the mirror is more immediately recognisable as Eda this time, somewhere in her mid-twenties and beginning to grey prematurely at the temples. She’s sitting on a hill, in a world that will look unfamiliar to most. The grass and sky are shades of purple, and the view overlooks red trees and what appears to be a mountain range made of huge, jagged bones.
She isn’t alone in this vision, either, but in this case the witch sitting near her will also look familiar, at least to anyone who’s met them here–Raine Whispers is also much younger than they are now, and somewhat slighter, but with the same intensely green eyes and seafoam hair.
“I’ve made a decision,” says the image of Raine. They curl in on themselves, wrapping their arms around one of their knees and looking away from Eda. “I’m joining the bard coven and… I think we should see other people.”
iii. (cw: likely mentions of child endangerment/harm, potential mentions of (fantasy race) genocide)
“Okay, I know you got your head cut off, and we started some kind of prison riot–”
Eda can’t help but look up the familiar voice, even as she realises in almost the same instant that she’s heard that sentence before. Her kids aren’t here. Of course they aren’t.
It’s too late either way; she’s watching the image of a teenage human girl, bright-eyed and enthusiastic if somewhat uncertain at the moment. The girl stands in Eda’s eclectically-decorated living room, looking up at a version of Eda who looks more or less as she does now–well, current harpy form notwithstanding.
A small, furry creature with horns and a skull for a face stands near Eda, wearing a red collar and a tiny gold crown.
“But this is the most fun I’ve ever had.”
The kid looks full of barely-contained hope in a way that very nearly breaks the current Eda’s heart. Because she knows what happens next, and she knows with a painfully guilt-ridden certainty that she should have said no.
➥ 8-ball for Your Thoughts (cw: loss of agency, obsession, codependency)
It’s no secret that Eda likes to collect shiny things. How much of that comes from the bird part of her brain is anyone’s guess. There’s often another reason, either way—it makes her a tiny bit sad to see things she considers nice thrown away.
This very sparkly magic 8-ball, for example, clearly doesn’t belong in the trash. It belongs in her nest. Or does it? Hah, she supposes she should ask.
Signs point to yes
If only any other answers in her life were as simple as that.
i. [Closed to Raine] i try so damn hard to make everything my fault, don't i
It's subtle at first; as much as Eda's decor is… eccentric, she does like a clean house.
Fold your laundry
Not the kind of advice she expected from her new sparkle-thing, maybe, but come to think of it she'd forgotten to do that. She might as well.
She might as well fold Raine's, too, if she's doing it anyway. And she should really try to pick all the feathers out of it.
Dust the room
She supposes she hasn't done that lately, either. There's been so much going on. But she really should keep up; she's not the only one living here. It couldn't hurt to be a little more thoughtful.
After all, it's mostly her own things gathering dust. In fact most of the decorations, if you can call them that, are her things, now that she thinks about it. Her odds and ends, the walls and the tops of the bookshelves lined with strange human objects she's picked up for one reason or another.
She doesn't even know what some of these are for. By the end of the day, there are just a few less.
Apologise for being rude
Huh. Today's advice is a very different sort than the various little reminders of household chores. But the 8-ball has been right about everything else, hasn't it?
And, once she thinks about it, she knows what it's talking about.
She shouldn't have snapped at Raine yesterday. But it's happened a few times lately, over little things, as the two of them settle into the shared space.
A stack of books that she decided was in her way here, a creeping pile of disorganised sheet music there. Nothing major—in fact, nothing she should have gotten annoyed over at all.
Because really, it's her fault if they don't have enough space for their things, isn't it? They're at work right now, so she'll have to apologise later. But she might as well do some reorganising in the meantime. Does she really need all these books?
ii.
Offer to help
It’s a puzzling suggestion, for a moment, but Eda finds herself certain it will make sense soon enough. Everything else the 8-ball has suggested has made sense. Everything else it’s suggested has been helpful.
And it does make sense, the moment Eda spots anyone doing something that looks like it would be easier with two people. Or easier if someone simply did it for them, whatever it is. In fact, she should probably just do that. Save them some trouble.
“Need some help with that?”
iii.
Or perhaps you ask her something, anything. Whatever the question was, Eda gives you an uncertain look and asks you to just… wait a moment.
Taking a distracted step away, she pulls a very bedazzled magic 8-ball out of her pocket, or her bag—she’s tired of not being able to keep things in her hair, but that’s beside the point—and shakes it.
She seems genuinely absorbed in watching for whatever answer is going to surface. But given that this is Eda, maybe it’s some kind of a bit?
Dirty Old Egg-Suckin' Tech
i. (likely blood, potential animal attack)
When the noise begins, Eda is quick to throw her phone to the ground and crush it under her talons. She’s not doing this again; she’ll worry about replacing it later.
Except the noise is coming from plenty of other places, even if she didn’t have ears more sensitive than the average human.
Said fluffy ears fold back against Eda’s head as, instead of whatever hallucination she was bracing herself for, blinding pain blooms behind her eyes.
She cries out, bracing herself against the wall of the nearest ADI building.
Eda’s eyes begin to swim with tears and then resolve into solid black.
“No, no no… calm down, we’re–” Eda tries to reassure the panicking creature that shares her body through gritted teeth. It doesn’t work.
With another noise of pain, more bird-like this time, she hunches over and falls to all fours. The transformation may not be quite as dramatic when she was already a harpy, but the beast she becomes is still a far cry from Eda’s usual self–most recognisable by the face, but even that’s currently a good deal more animalistic even than usual.
The owl beast lets out another ear-piercing shriek and presses the side of its head against the wall, before trying to cover one of its ears with a huge paw. Frightened, hurt and panicking it begins to search for somewhere–anywhere–to hide from the noise.
Wildcard Feel free to hit me up badgirlcoven or Ilya#4143 on discord. Or just surprise me!
Edalyn Clawthorne | The Owl House | OTA
➥
ReflectionsTwo Truths and a Liei. (cw: animal attack, major injury, blood, eye trauma, possession/lack of agency)
While Eda’s on the lookout for artifacts, she hasn’t heard about the mirrors yet. And so it comes at a complete surprise when she catches a shock of very red hair out of the corner of her eye.
The girl visible in the mirror might be recognisable to people who’ve seen Eda as a witch or a human, although she’s a good thirty years younger. A small teenager with no signs of her future hair colour, and two matching amber eyes.
The scene playing out in the mirror appears to be an average domestic moment, Eda at home with her sister—an older girl with wildly curly, darker red hair—and their mother, a middle aged woman with soft features and short brown hair.
For a brief moment, Eda is more puzzled than anything else. In fact there's even a pang of soft nostalgia as she watches herself help set the table.
And then her heart sinks as she watches the door to the house open. A man who looks quite a bit like Eda’s younger self walks in, calls her pumpkin and ruffles her hair.
Eda tries and fails to tear her eyes away as her father grins cheerfully and produces a party popper from his coat. It’s almost funny what a small, innocent looking thing it is, for all the trouble it lead to.
“I won't be home for a while, so that's why tonight… I'll be leavin' in style!”
And then a few things happen in very quick succession. The popper goes off, fireworks exploding in the living room over their heads with a dazzling flash. The teen Eda’s eyes widen, and she looks dazed and overwhelmed by the light.
…Until her eyes go solid black. She hunches over in pain and lets out a bird-like shriek as her form begins to twist into something larger, animalistic and covered in feathers.
ii. (cw: animal attack, potentially graphic injury, possession/lack of agency)
Another scene starts in an equally innocuous way, but Eda is quicker to guess where this one is going. And to regret that it’s so easy to lock eyes with a mirror, even when she’s doing her best to watch for them.
“No, I don’t–I don’t need to see this right now.” Things are going so well lately.
The young woman in the mirror is more immediately recognisable as Eda this time, somewhere in her mid-twenties and beginning to grey prematurely at the temples. She’s sitting on a hill, in a world that will look unfamiliar to most. The grass and sky are shades of purple, and the view overlooks red trees and what appears to be a mountain range made of huge, jagged bones.
She isn’t alone in this vision, either, but in this case the witch sitting near her will also look familiar, at least to anyone who’s met them here–Raine Whispers is also much younger than they are now, and somewhat slighter, but with the same intensely green eyes and seafoam hair.
“I’ve made a decision,” says the image of Raine. They curl in on themselves, wrapping their arms around one of their knees and looking away from Eda. “I’m joining the bard coven and… I think we should see other people.”
iii. (cw: likely mentions of child endangerment/harm, potential mentions of (fantasy race) genocide)
“Okay, I know you got your head cut off, and we started some kind of prison riot–”
Eda can’t help but look up the familiar voice, even as she realises in almost the same instant that she’s heard that sentence before. Her kids aren’t here. Of course they aren’t.
It’s too late either way; she’s watching the image of a teenage human girl, bright-eyed and enthusiastic if somewhat uncertain at the moment. The girl stands in Eda’s eclectically-decorated living room, looking up at a version of Eda who looks more or less as she does now–well, current harpy form notwithstanding.
A small, furry creature with horns and a skull for a face stands near Eda, wearing a red collar and a tiny gold crown.
“But this is the most fun I’ve ever had.”
The kid looks full of barely-contained hope in a way that very nearly breaks the current Eda’s heart. Because she knows what happens next, and she knows with a painfully guilt-ridden certainty that she should have said no.
➥ 8-ball for Your Thoughts
(cw: loss of agency, obsession, codependency)
It’s no secret that Eda likes to collect shiny things. How much of that comes from the bird part of her brain is anyone’s guess. There’s often another reason, either way—it makes her a tiny bit sad to see things she considers nice thrown away.
This very sparkly magic 8-ball, for example, clearly doesn’t belong in the trash. It belongs in her nest. Or does it? Hah, she supposes she should ask.
Signs point to yes
If only any other answers in her life were as simple as that.
i. [Closed to Raine] i try so damn hard to make everything my fault, don't i
It's subtle at first; as much as Eda's decor is… eccentric, she does like a clean house.
Fold your laundry
Not the kind of advice she expected from her new sparkle-thing, maybe, but come to think of it she'd forgotten to do that. She might as well.
She might as well fold Raine's, too, if she's doing it anyway. And she should really try to pick all the feathers out of it.
Dust the room
She supposes she hasn't done that lately, either. There's been so much going on. But she really should keep up; she's not the only one living here. It couldn't hurt to be a little more thoughtful.
After all, it's mostly her own things gathering dust. In fact most of the decorations, if you can call them that, are her things, now that she thinks about it. Her odds and ends, the walls and the tops of the bookshelves lined with strange human objects she's picked up for one reason or another.
She doesn't even know what some of these are for. By the end of the day, there are just a few less.
Apologise for being rude
Huh. Today's advice is a very different sort than the various little reminders of household chores. But the 8-ball has been right about everything else, hasn't it?
And, once she thinks about it, she knows what it's talking about.
She shouldn't have snapped at Raine yesterday. But it's happened a few times lately, over little things, as the two of them settle into the shared space.
A stack of books that she decided was in her way here, a creeping pile of disorganised sheet music there. Nothing major—in fact, nothing she should have gotten annoyed over at all.
Because really, it's her fault if they don't have enough space for their things, isn't it? They're at work right now, so she'll have to apologise later. But she might as well do some reorganising in the meantime. Does she really need all these books?
ii.
Offer to help
It’s a puzzling suggestion, for a moment, but Eda finds herself certain it will make sense soon enough. Everything else the 8-ball has suggested has made sense. Everything else it’s suggested has been helpful.
And it does make sense, the moment Eda spots anyone doing something that looks like it would be easier with two people. Or easier if someone simply did it for them, whatever it is. In fact, she should probably just do that. Save them some trouble.
“Need some help with that?”
iii.
Or perhaps you ask her something, anything. Whatever the question was, Eda gives you an uncertain look and asks you to just… wait a moment.
Taking a distracted step away, she pulls a very bedazzled magic 8-ball out of her pocket, or her bag—she’s tired of not being able to keep things in her hair, but that’s beside the point—and shakes it.
She seems genuinely absorbed in watching for whatever answer is going to surface. But given that this is Eda, maybe it’s some kind of a bit?
Dirty Old Egg-Suckin' Tech
i. (likely blood, potential animal attack)
When the noise begins, Eda is quick to throw her phone to the ground and crush it under her talons. She’s not doing this again; she’ll worry about replacing it later.
Except the noise is coming from plenty of other places, even if she didn’t have ears more sensitive than the average human.
Said fluffy ears fold back against Eda’s head as, instead of whatever hallucination she was bracing herself for, blinding pain blooms behind her eyes.
She cries out, bracing herself against the wall of the nearest ADI building.
Eda’s eyes begin to swim with tears and then resolve into solid black.
“No, no no… calm down, we’re–” Eda tries to reassure the panicking creature that shares her body through gritted teeth. It doesn’t work.
With another noise of pain, more bird-like this time, she hunches over and falls to all fours. The transformation may not be quite as dramatic when she was already a harpy, but the beast she becomes is still a far cry from Eda’s usual self–most recognisable by the face, but even that’s currently a good deal more animalistic even than usual.
The owl beast lets out another ear-piercing shriek and presses the side of its head against the wall, before trying to cover one of its ears with a huge paw. Frightened, hurt and panicking it begins to search for somewhere–anywhere–to hide from the noise.
Wildcard
Feel free to hit me up