Realistic or Modern Salem's Lot: The Cradle

[Saracen_Rue]

A C T O N E
A W A K E N I N G

OFFICIAL PLAYLIST

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• .
• location

  the forest
  

  outfit

  Attire
  

  mood

  pensive
  

  song

  There's a Road - Kinney
  

  tags

  @ people
  
  
  
  

code by opaline

Rowan Solis

❛The Green Witch ❜

There had been something in the air as of late, as there always was this time of year. The ending of summer, and the coming of fall. A time of rebirth, healing, and passing, all of those born into the supernatural world knew that, it was a part of their culture and very being, after all. An Autumn solstice, accompanied by a blood moon, and with that, came the Witch and Folklore Festival of Salem, a time that the modern day mortals considered time for celebration for magical education, history, and community, but for some, they considered it in bad taste, an offense to some, even. Forming a holiday out of a past filled of nothing but cruelty and oppression, and in the city of Salem no less? The town that held the famed Witch Trials centuries ago? Poor taste indeed. But even those of the supernatural breed knew that there was something magical and ethereal about this time of year, that much couldn't be ignored let alone denied. All Hallows Eve would be soon upon them, the time of year where the veil between the living and dead was at its most thinnest, and those that held any capacity of magic drew from it for their own gain, healing, or whatever form their magic found itself bound to the witch.

The air was beginning to cool, the heat slowly leaving as darker, cloud filled skies would soon take its place. Colorful leaves would soon cover the town, and an equally cold breeze would fill the air and the cycle of life would begin anew. And that is where one witch found herself specifically. Another late night working on a never ending project, a dull glow escaping the upper story window as always as the artist had been at work for hours, and an even later morning as the young witch slept in once more. She hated mornings. A form withdrew itself from what could only be called a nest of blankets, barely feet scattering across cold hardwood floors and into the bathroom. The sound of the water of the shower sounding, steam filling the room. More feet scattering across the cold floor once more as the witch began the start of her day, finding an outfit appropriate enough for her endeavours. Shorts and a long sleeve shirt would have to suffice, she'd grab a sweater for later if she needed it, and a pair of black socks and equally black boots that came up just above her ankles.

"Another part of your strange courting rituals, hm?" a deep voice seemed to vibrate the room itself, the young witch remained unflinching as she continued to apply whatever form of minimal makeup she decided to go with for the day, her eyes never once leaving the mirror in front of her on the vanity.

"What?" she scoffed, a small roll to her eyes.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about, you mortals are strange beings these days." the voice mused once again from behind the young witch.

another small scoff from the Green Witch, this time as she stood up, giving a small stretched and yawn before grabbing a backpack and tossing it over one shoulder, "I haven't the faintest idea of what you're talking about, it's the start of that bullshit festival, and I have no choice in but to go. That's it." she gave an annoyed roll of her eyes as she finally looked at the form on her bed. "Plus, you're one to talk, you were once mortal too, ya know."

the large black form, green eyes scanning over the witch before giving a small chuckle that sounded more like a purr than anything else "Right right..." was all that was said, before Rowan patted her shoulder, extending one arm out as the feline jumped from the bed and onto the floor, quickly climbing up the young witch's leg and onto her shoulder where he found purchase, giving his witch a small nudge and purr before finally laying down, content.

Rowan finally made her way down to the main floor of the old home, the old wooden stairs creaking with every step, Oscar really did need to get to finally working on fixing them before someone ending up tripping on a loose panel, let alone the annoyance the sound of old wood caused. She made her way into the kitchen, where her aunt Val and uncle Oscar were already at the table, Oscar reading the newspaper as he slipped on a still hot mug of coffee, and Val was busy at the counter, still working on breakfast Rowan figured.

"About time you graced us with your presence." the older witch said without even looking up from what she was doing, busily tending to her task at hand.

"...Sorry?" Rowan said with another yawn, rubbing her face as she walked over to the fridge, grabbing a green apple before closing the door. "It was another late night...Again."

"You've been having a lot of those lately." her uncle mused, finally eyeing her over the rims of his glasses, eyeing the now dried paint still on her hands somehow. Rowan gave a small shrug in response.

"One of your friends was here earlier, by the way." Val informed, finally turning around with a small stack of blueberry pancakes.

Rowan gave her a small glance before holding up the apple in her hand, indicating she was gonna be going soon, "And you didn't think to wake me?" she sighed, pinching her nose, "Which one was it?"

There was a small pause as Val handed the plate to her brother before looking back at Rowan, "The uh...Storm Witch?" she snapped her fingers as she remembered finally.

Rowan gave a small nod, "Yeah...I forgot she was supposed to be over this morning. I'll catch up with her later today-"

"You'll be at the festival later today, right? You're supposed to help Val with one of the booths tonight." Oscar said before taking a bite of his breakfast, delicious pancakes as always.

Rowan gave a small pause before a sigh escaped her lips, "...Will I at least be able to leave early then? Some of the others wanted me to hang out with them later."

Oscar gave a small look of disappointment, as Rowan had promised to work with her aunt that night, weeks ago, Val had instead cut him off with a small nod, "Of course, hun. Considering its the first time you've actually shown interest in the festival itself, how could I say no? We'll catch up later, maybe make a few sales at the stall, and say about after two hours you can go hang out with your friends then? Deal?" she gave her niece a small smile.

Rowan nodded after a moment, "Of course! I'll see you later then-" she started to make her way out the kitchen.

"Where are you going now then? Thought you'd have some food before you go?" Oscar asked, a sip of his coffee once again.

Rowan paused, midstep, "Was gonna go into town for a bit, maybe check out some of the stalls early?"

"I could drive you?" her uncle offered, holding up his keys to the old truck.

"N-no. I'd rather walk this morning actually." she gave a reassuring nod.

There was a small look exchanged between her aunt and uncle, before they chuckled. "Of course you do." Val gave a small smirk.

"I like walking. Besides, I'll have Binx with me-" the familiar chirped up as if on cue, "He'll keep me company." and with that she was out the door, as a means of escaping anymore awkward conversation.

The cool air that greeted her as she stepped onto the front porch was a welcomed one, taking in a deep breath. She took out a remotely old smart phone, and earbuds, looking for a proper playlist and song as she started her way through the woods, and into town. It was going to be a good day, at least she hoped so..

​

 

[CrimsonInk]

code by opaline

Helena Morrow

❛ the violet witch ❜

come little children to the hanging tree

peter hollens and bailey pelkman

"Things are so rarely what they seem to be."

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• .
• mood

  enigmatic
  

  location

  the shop
  

  outfit

  violet fit
  

  mentions

  n/a
  

  interactions

  npc naomi
  

  tags

  n/a
  

code by opaline

Prologue

❛ the festival ❜

The moment autumn came to Salem there had been an overwhelming abundance of mortals roaming and gallivanting through the streets. Tourism is an interesting sight to see from the perspective of a new local — the true sight of having to see the distasteful side of having to depend on many who show any lack of respect for a community that is so giving. It was one of the few things Helena appreciated from her time residing here. Even if it had been so little, she still gave the time to pray for its abundance and for the town to prosper. Mists from the light fog spread along the streets with the sun yet to peak from its deep slumber. It was that morning when she decided to walk instead of biking to open the shop. Exiting her home she began to make way for Celestial Body, a shop she helped her housemate with in order to make income.

Her raven hair cascading down her back with her attire strictly picked for comfort and modesty. A simple periwinkle blouse with a black skirt, belt, socks, and boots to put altogether. Covered by her violet cloak, she made way to the shop with ease. Mornings were much more trivial to surpass than the time of night, where she would become her most energetic self under the moon goddesses blessings. She could feel her eyes begging for them to close once more, to be in the comfort of her bed surrounded by pillows and furs. A luxury she couldn’t let herself have just yet.

Past the streetlights and a few waves to locals opening up their own stores, Helena grabbed the key from her pocket and inserted it to unlock the store. A bell jingles with an ear-piercing screech echoing the small space. Her feet scurried over the wooden floors to press the buttons on the alarm by the register. Her fingers soon find the light switch to be flicked on, blinded by the store's brightness for such an early morning. The woman sluggishly began to set up shop, removing her cloak and setting it by the register, as time ticked pressuring them to open — brand new small sets of body care were displayed in the front for the tourists to see, inserting the cash drawer back into the register, sweeping the floors, saging the store, lighting some candles, turning on the mini fountain, and finally connecting to the speakers from her phone to start playing Naomi’s playlist. Such tranquil and relaxing music made the witch sway side to side, following its gentle beat as she flipped the open sign and took place at the register. If Helena didn’t know any better, she would have fallen asleep standing up if it weren’t for Naomi to come in with donuts and coffee.

The bell jingles from the door opening and the first thing Helena saw was the pearl whites of her roommate flashing her way. Her cheery behavior took up the space of Helena’s sleepiness as she brought over breakfast to the counter.

“Good morning Lena!” Naomi said, Helena hummed in reply, “thank you for opening! I already have the stuff set up near the festival grounds, I just need to set up there at ten!”

Helena gave a nod, listening to the mortal woman yap her ears away as she peeked into the small box of donuts that had been calling her name. The smells of chocolate, pistachio, blueberry, glaze, it was practically a mouthwatering haven for the witch. Her taste buds were set on one donut in particular — the infamous dubai chocolate inspired one. It had a crunchy toasted kataifi and pistachio crème filling with a nutella top coating decorated with crushed pistachios. It was one of the few sweet treats she could ask for that made mornings like this worth it. Taking the donut she took a big bite, slowly consuming the sweet treat.

“I was actually wondering if you don’t mind closing the store at four pm today!”

Helena raised a brow.

“Why? Is there something wrong?” The witch asked mid-chew, covering her mouth to not expose the mess she was making.

Naomi shook her head. “No. I actually want you to go experience the festival! It’s your first one and I think it’ll be nice for you to go look around!”

“No.”

“But Lena-”

“Absolutely not.”

Naomi pouted, her lips pursing up and brows furrowed at the woman. It was little things like this that Helena never understood with the mortal woman. Outgoing activities were frivolous in Helena’s eyes, and felt more comfortable in a home where quiet made everything more bliss. But Naomi never brought out such a puppy-dog look for just anything. It was true the festival held some deep rooted history for the town, however you may see it. She also couldn’t deny that she was also curious about the festival — though she wanted to be careful with entertaining this activity. ‘Curiosity killed the cat’ was a proverb for a reason.

“Fine. I’ll go.”

The mortal woman's face lit up like a firework, her arms reached out over the counter to hug the petite woman. Affections like this were common in their relationship, and despite it being uncomfortable at times….Helena wouldn’t have it either way.

Ting~

“Good morning, welcome to Celestial Body.”

 

[partially-stars]

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• .
• location

  apartment --> town
  

  outfit

  here
  

  tags

  @ nobody
  
  

code by opaline

elodie iris

❛daughter of the wilds❜

No matter how many rugs she dotted across the pale wooden floors, no matter how many soft blankets she threw over furniture, Elodie’s apartment was always cold. There was always an echo, too, but that was easier to cope with, especially because it took away the edge of so often being the only soul in the apartment. Besides Biscuit, of course, but you could only have so many conversations with your cat to take the edge off of the loneliness. Some mornings, she was content with her lot and her life, glad that she had at least survived to get where she was. And then there were mornings like the first of the festival.

She had slept badly, tormented by nightmares and dreams that felt like she was almost home, but not quite. Even her loyal companion’s weight on her stomach, in the crook of her legs, by her side, wasn’t enough to soothe her soul. And so when she finally reached the point of being unable to sleep any further, she was still exhausted, as if she’d never slept in the first place. She trudged downstairs soundlessly, scrolling through podcasts until she found one she liked the sound of. With the upbeat yet gentle voices coming through the small speaker on her coffee table, Elodie set to the task of making herself breakfast. Matcha, first. Considering that she spent most of her days making coffee, she’d never quite come to appreciate the taste. Matcha, however, she had come to appreciate. There was something soothing in the earthiness, although she usually complemented the flavour with syrups, something to sweeten. That morning, her choice of additive was a white chocolate mix. Indulgent for some, perhaps, but given how badly she’d slept and how she could already feel that tiredness settling into her soul, something sweet to take the edge off was already called for.

With her matcha prepared and a simple porridge made, she settled down to watch the sun finish rising. Biscuit had followed her downstairs and curled up by her feet. She smiled and pulled a blanket down to cover the two of them, tucking it carefully around the cat so he could still see out. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the painting she was supposed to exhibit at the festival later on. If she looked at it fully, all she would see would be the mistakes, the parts she wanted to fix. She’d been asked to paint a piece for the festival. And she had run out of time. The thought of failing, of letting everyone down, was worse than the thought of exhibiting something she wasn’t happy with. At least if she exhibited something bad people might pity her for her delusion, rather than being thought of as a coward. But all the same, when she looked at the piece, she couldn’t bring herself to be truly happy with it. Even on a good day, there had been things she’d wanted to change. On a sleepless morning, there was practically nothing she didn’t want to change.

She still had to exhibit it, though. So when the sun was fully up, the ads in her podcast were starting to annoy her, and Biscuit had left his comfortable spot to instead go chase his toy fish, she finally relented and returned upstairs to get dressed. The temptation was there to just dress in something… plain. Something nobody would notice her in. But people would notice her anyway, so she figured she may as well put some effort in. Tossing a few treats for Biscuit around the apartment to keep him busy once his interest in the fish waned, she wrapped the piece in an old piece of cloth without even looking at it and headed towards the exhibition tent.

The other pieces were already up. A variety of styles and mediums, and every single one of them better than her mediocre watercolour. But a blessing came in the form of an unmanned tent. She sat down the canvas in a corner, turned away from curious eyes, in the hope that it might be forgotten about, and turned to leave before anyone noticed her and asked questions. She was never that lucky. Jocelyn Wright, the frustratingly upbeat arts representative for the festival, was coming into the tent.

“Melody!” She gushed. She was generally pleasant, but seemed unable to retain the fact that Elodie’s name was not in fact Melody. “I was worried we’d be missing your piece! I was worrying that I’d have to rearrange the whole display to cover up the gap!”
“Well, it’s… here now,” Elodie said, gesturing at the canvas, and wondering if she’d get away with making a run for it while Jocelyn went to pick up her canvas. But no, she hadn’t worn fleeing shoes. She’d bought these damnable heeled boots in an attempt to convince her brain she didn’t need to be ready to run at all times. It hadn’t fully worked, and was now backfiring on her.
“Oh, we’ll have to take a look.” Elodie just nodded and braced herself for the inevitable disappointment, the polite kindness, and Jocelyn’s realisation that she’d have to rearrange everything anyway so she could get away without displaying it. Jocelyn picked up the canvas, turned it around, and gasped in apparent delight. Apparently she was a better actress than Elodie had given herself credit for. “Elodie, my darling, this is wonderful! My, you might just have an exhibit all of your own next year!” Jocelyn gushed. Elodie shook her head, the thought of that making her feel like she was about to vomit.
“I don’t think so,” was all she was able to stammer out.
“Don’t be modest, this is gorgeous! What an unconventional self portrait!” The feeling of wanting to vomit was not cancelled out by her stomach dropping into her boots. The painting hadn’t been a self portrait at all, and she had to glance at it in panic to make sure she’d sent the right one. A pair of eyes looking out through the forest canopy; they weren’t supposed to be her eyes, she hadn’t wanted it to look that way. But in the harsh white lighting of the tint, the eyes looked like they were the same blue as Elodie’s. The colour had been one of the things she’d wanted to change most, but hadn’t been sure what colour to change them to. And now she understood why she’d wanted to change them so badly. But she couldn’t say that to Jocelyn, so instead, she just forced a smile onto her face. Thankfully, Jocelyn hadn’t noticed anything was ary.
“You’ll have to come by later, I’m sure some of the local papers will want to get a picture and a profile on you, and of course there will be pictures!” The feeling of nausea was only worsening, and so Elodie just nodded politely, and turned and hurried away as quickly as she could. Gods, everyone would think she was entirely self obsessed now. Deluded and self obsessed, what a horrific combination. She’d promised herself that she’d stay in town, maybe buy herself a nice shiny trinket or something for her apartment, but she didn’t trust herself not to start crying or throw up or probably both, and so, instead, she made a beeline for the forest. Maybe she’d hide out there all day. Maybe she’d just permanently shift into a bird and live in the trees forever. She’d tried that before, it had only worked until she’d fallen asleep, but maybe this time it would work.

 

[partially-stars]

• 1
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• .
• location

  lady grey's emporium - outside
  

  outfit

  here
  

  tags

  i don't know how tags work

code by opaline

bella gardner

❛ the venomous witch❜

Salem was a town of many festivals, and every single one of them brought more business to Lady Grey’s Emporium. And on a cold fall morning, tea often called to many who wanted to start their morning at a slower pace. (They had recently branched out to serving coffee too, but only drip coffee. Espresso machines were too loud and would ruin the ambiance.) So as the rest of the town began to prepare itself for the festival and businesses opened their doors, Lady Grey’s had already been open for a while. There were still plenty of seats left, but the coveted spots by the window and the fireplace had already been claimed.

Bella had come in early to check their stock levels and place orders to make sure they wouldn’t run into any issues in the coming week, but as usual, she’d gotten caught up in making sure that things were running smoothly, and then in the morning rush. And yet to look at her, one would swear that she’d arrived only a few minutes earlier, bright eyed and bushy tailed. In reality, she’d been up and working for about three hours, and was desperately ready for a break.

“One pomegranate and raspberry, one earl grey, and two blueberry muffins,” a voice suddenly said, dropping the aforementioned order in front of her. She blinked, scanning the shop to see who was waiting for the order, only to come up empty. Arthur chuckled under his breath as she turned to look at him. “They’re for you, boss. You’ve been up since god only knows what time, and you’ve been working just as hard as the rest of us. By my reckoning, you’re overdue for your break. Go relax. Give that goth lady that always comes around at lunchtime a text, maybe you can have breakfast together too,” he said with a wink.
“We’re just friends!” Bella insisted as she picked up the to-go bag and the two cups.
“I never said or even implied anything to the other, but me thinks the lady doth protest too much,” Arthur replied.
“You’re fired.”
“No, I’m not. Now go enjoy your break.”

Bella smiled and shook her head as she headed outside to the fresh air. She had slept the night before, and she’d slept well too, which was somewhat surprising. This time of year always seemed to affect her sleep, made her dreams worse. Her mother’s presence always seemed closer than normal, and her voice was always clearer in Bella’s head. No matter how much work Bella did in getting rid of it, it was always there. The best she could do was not let it win. Or at least minimise the wins it did get. And on a sunny morning, her favourite fruit tea in hand, that seemed manageable. She walked the short distance to her favourite bench, and sent a short text.
To: Rae
“Heyyyy :3 I got breakfast here for you if you want it, it’s your favourite ”

She sat back on her bench, taking a long sip of her tea as she did so. It had been easy to play off her early appearance into work as just being dedicated to the store, wanting to make sure they were set up for success, given the autumn festivals were always their busiest time. She wasn’t sure how many believed her, but it was an excuse that was hard to argue with. In reality, she hadn’t slept much anyway. It was said that the veil between worlds was thinner this time of year, and Bella knew it to be true, especially so in Salem. The people she’d lost- the people she’d killed were never too far from her dreams, but these days, they took up permanent residence, determined to haunt her. Or perhaps it was just her mother. She’d see glimpses of Sheila too. Julia was a different case, given her spirit was back in Salem, and Bella was forced to look it in the eyes every so often. At least Rowan hated Bella. It made things easier. Bella couldn’t have handled it if Rowan forgave her, given that Bella would never be able to forgive herself. Her mother certainly had never forgiven her. Bella would frequently wake gasping for breath, the sensation of a hand wrapped around her throat still lingering. And somehow, that hatred that echoed from beyond the grave was easier to deal with than forgiveness.

But if the ghosts haunted her dreams, they couldn’t touch her when she was waking. And in the sunshine, the first few warm rays of sun finding her bench, the warmth felt like it was giving her back some of the energy that the dreams had stolen. The town was filled with a gentle chatter as people came to life and began to set up the stalls for the festival. With the hot tea and warm muffin in her hand, it almost felt enough for her to forgive herself for the ghosts.

Almost. But not quite.

And she had plenty to carry besides the ghosts. A lifetime of lies, a lifetime of damage done, a lifetime of being a monster. She’d have to live another hundred years to start repairing the damage, and she didn’t even think that would be enough. The voices started to hiss their suggestions of all the things she could do in repentance; if such a thing was even possible for her. She took a deep breath and another sip of her tea in the hopes of quietening them. In the aftermath of her mother’s death, she’d been bordering on another hospitalisation, but instead, a head doctor had prescribed her medication. It quieted the voices, but could never silence them. The only cocktail of drugs that had ever been able to silence them had almost silenced Bella too. So she would deal with quiet. Especially because the doctor had also prescribed her Valium, something that other doctors seemed opposed to. There were more days when sunshine and tea and the hope of a pretty lady coming by were not enough to calm her down. But today, it was enough. The voices sank back to their usual hushed hissing, and Bella opened her eyes to watch the teams setting up the last few festival tents. She couldn’t repent or fix herself; but a generous “anonymous” sponsor had gone a long way in helping fund the festival this year. She could at least live with that.

 

[Colorless Spectrum]

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• 2

• .
• location

  the forest
  

  outfit

  ensemble
  

  tags

  Saracen_Rue
  

code by opaline

Ellizette Antonia Tepes

❛dhampyr❜

It wasn't an exaggeration to say that Ellizette lives in a house of memories. Every inch of her house was littered with sentiments, paintings of the people she's lost, letters that she reads again every now and then, photos of moments she wished lasted forever. She remembered it as if it was yesterday. Every inch of her house was like a canvas to her past, yet there was something not right. A bright red spot of blood had dripped onto her canvas. Irksome. An unintended drop of paint that made everything worse.

Ellizette was sure that she had only called upon her Aunt Rhiannon to come and visit. That she specifically instructed one of her crows to bring the letter only to her youngest aunt. Yet… her green-colored eyes could only form a woman with hair as black as ebony, skin as pale as porcelain, and lips painted in the brightest shade of red. The woman smiled. She took all the space on the couch and propped her feet on the table, baring her fangs to the dhampyr who had not expected her arrival. “What? Can I not invite myself to your little shindig later?”

“Aunt Anwen, please get your feet off my coffee table. I just cleaned that.” Ellizette responded to her aunt. "Let me guess, intercepted my mail?"

"I did teach you how to train these beautiful and intelligent creatures, did I not?" It wasn't as if Ellizette didn't care about Anwen, or hated her for that matter... It was simply because it was Anwen. Ever so temperamental and ruthless when she wanted to be. Troublesome. Besides, Ellizette dislikes getting surprised like this.

"It's too early for this." Ellizette sighed, put on her coat, and glared at Anwen and at the cat, who was now walking towards her aunt. "Grumpy... You traitor." She said as Grumpy jumped to her aunt's lap and purred, its brothers and sister were on the other side watching the exchange quietly. "I'm going out, please do not bite other people in the neighborhood, okay? I'll get you some purified blood from Rae to keep you fed." She begged as she put on her coat and caressed all the other cats in her living room. "And I cannot stress this enough but I just cleaned, so if you could please not make a mess, Aunt Anwen!"

The older woman put up her hand in defeat, her red sleeves crinkled at the spot where her chelidon rests. With that, Ellizette had closed the door and stormed off to wherever her feet took her.

The rustle of leaves found it's way to her ears, the crunch of her shoes to the grass, and the caress of the wind to her skin. Music could be heard not too far from where threaded. It was familiar. The further away from her house she was, the softer she felt. And it was not difficult to guest why, if one had seen her a few days ago they'd see how much one person had affected her short time since coming back to Salem. "Little witch, a pleasant morning to you." Her voice echoed in her own throat as she greeted the young witch from behind, a small smile forming in her lips.