The Beginnings of the Harvest Season (OPEN)

[acrookedchild]

1) Business as usual

The shop was easy to manage. People came mostly or Tarot or palmistry, but she had a small, steady client base who came from what they considered spells. They were longer-ranged, though. Rituals, not spells, and Abigail didn't have the heart to tell them the truth about the strange ways in which they could work. Not that there wasn't magic in them... Still, no one seemed too concerned that their dreams of love and money didn't immediately come true.

She'd gotten used to referencing the 'Rule of Three' and 'Mother Earth' and saying 'Blessed be.' The clients came, after all, for the New Age sort. They expected Wiccanism, not true witchcraft, so Abby gave them what they wanted. They paid for it. She did, of course, try to work magic where it was needed, and she trusted the craft of the Tarot.

Still, the shop is open, still offering its first Tarot reading free and displaying the rates for everything else on a sign immediately visible upon entry.


2) Everyday dangers on the streets - closed to Cooper
cw: violence from/to a dog

It's a perfectly nice August day. Great for walking from shop to shop. Mostly, she's stocking up on candles and incense for her work, but she's got a few books for herself and other such things. Overall, it's just a nice day to herself. Which makes Abby more than content.

She stops on the sidewalk for a few moments to admire a set of painting in a window display. They might be nice on the wall of her shop. Something to give the place an even more homey feel.

A slight ruckus catches her ear. Someoneone trying to get their dog under control. A woman scolded a man for being so stubborn that he wouldn't even muzzle it. And then-- And then real shouting.

Before Abby can even really register what's going on, there's pain in her leg. Lots and lots of pain. She staggers as the dog sinks its teeth in more. When she's finally really aware of the situation, she twists to try and kick the dog anywhere she can with her free leg, though there are tears already streaking her face.

And she's screaming, too. Saying something? Or just screaming? She doesn't really know. It hurts too much to think and fear robs any remaining senses. People are trying to help, but the dog just bites at them and goes back to lunging at her.


3) A ritual at night - closed to Balem

Late at night on the 17th, Abigail left her flat and travelled by car to Bedfont Lakes Country Park. She wanted to do it when no one else would be there to see. Or, at least, when there was as little chance of being seen as possible. After all, this ritual was meant to be done in safety and privacy.

She sets down her small bag and takes out her supplies. They're simple, hardly worth notice. An apple, a penknife, an embroidery needle, and a packet of sugar.

After a few moments to steady herself, she takes up the apple and the knife, cutting the apple in half horizontally. With one half in each hand, she looked out over the north lake. Then, she spoke, quiet and serious.

"By the water in my blood,
By the rivers of the earth,
By the tides of the moon,
Bring me one who knows my worth."

She repeated the words in a gentle rythym several more times. Nine in all, if one was present and counting through them all. Then, she put the half of the apple in her right hand down on her bag and took up the embroidery needle. She drew a downward pointing triangle on the right side of the flesh, then her name along the bottom, then, at the left, a waxing crescent moon with the needle.

Half of the packet of sugar was emptied onto the apple half, and she threw it into the lake, as far from her as she could. Then, she sprinkled the other half of the sugar on the remaining half of the apple and began to eat it.


4) At the mercy of public transportation

Abby has decided that she hates crutches. They make everything a hundred times more complicated than they need to be, and they slow her down. But, well, they're better than having lost her leg to that mutt attacking her. Which is still so weird. Nothing like that has ever happened before.

Which means there's plenty to consider. That's why she's at a little coffee house, sitting on one of their sidewalk tables, as she waits for a late-evening bus to take her home.

She has a notebook in front of her, and she jots things down at certain points before scratching it out and writing something else. It could be (and probably is) something as simple as a grocery list for another time.

Comments

[acrookedchild]

"I'd prefer to have a child with someone I love," she replied. With someone else, she might have danced around the subject a bit. But for a fae... she would be direct. "And I'm the last of my line, so I have to have a child."

Because letting the line die because of something someone had done five hundred years ago wasn't going to happen.

[entitles]

"Ah, yes. My mother was over ten-thousand years old already, when I was born...but you humans only have a couple decades to get that particular business done," he said, with understanding but not much in the way of actual sympathy. He didn't really want any children, although he may have a few of them out there.

"There are more reliable ways to find love, you know," he said, "It is a wish, like any other."

But his wishes always came at a price.

[acrookedchild]

Abigail shook her head a little. "I have enough of my life that's going to be riding on making a wish with the deal. I... don't need my love life dragged into that, too." There was a small, almost apologetic smile on her face as she said it.

It was tempting. To add one more deal. But deals had gotten her ancestors in trouble. Deals had stained the Widdowson legacy with blood. Better to keep it at what she needed and wait for the rest.

[entitles]

"So I've heard. I don't know your exact situation - I don't suppose you'd be willing to tell me," he said, because oh he loved knowing interesting secrets.

[acrookedchild]

Abigail laughed. Not an amused laugh but almost a tired one.

"Would you care for the long version or the short?"

After all, for a fae... She could recount the history of her line.

[entitles]

"To be long by my standards you'd have to spend a good decade telling it to me," he said, "Give me whichever version you like."

[acrookedchild]

"Sir Roderick Widdowson. Not the first Widdowson, but the first of the Widdowsons."

The ones who'd given the family their reputation.

"He was an influential member of Queen Elizabeth I's court. However, he and his wife couldn't conceive. Without an heir, the line would have died out. So, he turned to truly dark magic. Human sacrifice, even children. Equivalent exchange, if you will."

And then the mistake had come.

"To my understand, one of the sons he took was the child of a widow witch. She found out only after her son died. The story is that his ghost contacted her. I don't know for certain. But she used her own life to lay a curse. Every Widdowson would suffer tragedy until their bloodline was wiped out."

She shook her head, taking a deep breath in.

"Sir Roderick contracted with a powerful fae to make sure his line continued and to protect the children of the Widdowson name. However, the witch's curse wasn't just on him. It was on all his descendants. So... we've done it for centuries. Making a deal with the fae to live and to have a child."

[entitles]

"A curse that lasts for generations...I've done that, a few times. Not the easiest feat. The costs are steep," he said. Someone's life had to be pretty much ruined already before they resorted to it.

"And you've made this deal, then?"

[acrookedchild]

"Not yet," she admitted. "I was safe until I was eighteen -- the original deal. That fae still resides in Geap Manor. Still protects all the children of the Widdowson line. Particularly the first-born."

But now, well. She was an adult and time was running out.

[entitles]

"I cannot tell the future, as it is. The stars do tell something - but there are so many billions of threads of fate that it would take longer than your lifetime for me to decipher it," he said, "But I can change it, to an outcome of your choosing."

[acrookedchild]

"For a price."

She understands how these things work. She's always understood. Unthank taught her well, made sure she understood the fae. It's still a terrifying thought, finally making the deal.

[entitles]

"Of course, for a price. It is not an easy task, not something I would do for free," he said.

[acrookedchild]

"I'm not making a deal right now. I'd need time to prepare a proper contract, of course," Abby murmured, though her mind was already beginning to write it. "But. If I were to, with you. What price would you ask?"

Because he knew the basic situation she was up against, and she wanted time to prepare herself for the price.

[entitles]

"I'd usually need a soul, for something like that," he said, "But I imagine you know what that would mean."

Being eaten, basically.

"But we are allies, of sorts, so I can be generous and spare you that particular fate. It still won't be easy, but..." he paused for a moment, "How much do you know about fae?"

[acrookedchild]

Abby was silent for a few moments, considering. What she was asking for a large favor. A high price was to be expected.

"Would you require a soul immediately? Or would you accept a deferred payment?"

Because it was a price she was willing to pay. Not right away, no. But eventually.

[entitles]

"Deferred is fine. But in the interest of keeping the peace between your coven and the fae, I should warn you that my own family has a history as well," he said.

A history of being ruthless and vicious and playing with the lives of men.

"I am from the line of Abrasax, if that name holds any meaning to you. Do not attempt to use that knowledge against me," he said sternly, "But use it to think carefully on this deal."

[acrookedchild]

"I'm not really familiar with your family name," she admitted.

But she knew what to do. At least to some extent, so she looked right at him.

"What should I know before entering into a contract with you?"

[entitles]

"Know that I am among the oldest of my kind, and I have very discerning tastes," he said, "And know that if you give me your soul I will devour it upon your death unless you negotiate otherwise."

He was an ancient wish-granter made partially of fire with a fondness for devouring souls...and yet he'd still get angry if anyone called him a demon.

[acrookedchild]

"The only stipulation on that front I'd ask is that, when the time came, you'd ensure that my child or children were not present to see the devouring happen."

There were details to figure out, a proper contract to make, but it could be done. Ought to be, she knew. Time was running out, and she needed to act quickly.

[entitles]

"Of course. I'm not that cruel," he said. He was curious about the fact that she was willing to give him her soul - most humans, when they sold theirs, didn't know what was going to happen to them. She must be very passionate about averting that curse.

[acrookedchild]

The idea of it was terrifying. But at least then the death would sort of be on her own terms. It wouldn't be some random accident, and she wouldn't have to worry every time she set foot outside Geap Manor. Maybe she could finally start enjoying herself.

"So, we'll meet up soon to discuss the details?"

[entitles]

"Very well. Do choose your words carefully when it comes time to make that deal. The stars are quite literal," he said, and he himself was more than willing to twist a wish if he found an opportunity.