cross your heart && hope to die

[stauncherhearted]

[An August catch-all! Please note that Nancy has been cursed to compelled to tell the truth. This curse lasts until she reveals 3 things that she never would have otherwise, or until the next full moon (Aug 29). Please mention if a thread occurs AFTER the 29th as for now, she's defaulting to cursed.

Lots of fun. Please see these lovely starters, and check the comment section for a few starters. Want something specific? you know where to find me (sheakespeare).]

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Option A
The day after Lammas, Nancy woke up like any other day. She fed her cat, had some coffee and cooked up a bit of bacon to keep her hangover at bay. Today was supposed to be like any other day, grab a few bottles of Blood Replenisher to give to Cooper, more VT for her, and maybe stop by a local cafe to read for a while. And everything was going just great.

At least, until she got to the apothecary. When she was asked how she was doing, instead of just saying 'alright' and moving on like any normal person would do, she found herself looking at him and saying, "I'm bloody hungover and I don't know what just happened." But she'd said those words, even if they weren't the ones she wanted to. Blinking, she tried again, but the results were the same. Even after a third time.

"Fine, just ring me up I can tell you're impatient and think I'm crazy." He gave her a look, but rang up her purchases. Nancy was only too glad to get out of there.

Once on the street, that's where she was able to take stock of herself. Putting her bags down, she leaned against the wall. "Alright, Nancy. What's going on with you? This isn't like you." And that was the first of many incidents that day, where she thought one thing, and wound up saying something entirely else. Something, she found, that was true, and only occurred when she was lying.

Someone had cursed her. And she still had to run errands.



Option B

Nancy was determined not to let this curse keep her from working. So here she was, another night, another bar, dolled up. Whenever she approached men, however, she still couldn't, try as she might, even dance around telling the truth.

She sounded desperate, awful, and her game was at an all-time-low. At this rate, she'd have to ask Fagin for money, and he was notoriously tight with his purse strings. The only thing worse than that would be asking someone like Killian to help her out. Completely unacceptable.

Another failed solicitation, and the bartender finally nodded to the bouncer. said bouncer, who had once happily checked Nancy's ID, marched over to the petite girl and promptly informed her that this bar had no room for prostitutes, and she was therefore banned from the establishment for the rest of forever.

Shoulders sagging forward, Nancy trekked through London, trying to keep her tears at bay. Tonight, she decided, she was just going to walk home. Usually, she'd find herself at Fagin's, pouring herself a drink of gin on nights like tonight. But seeing the old man would only be a disaster tonight. Besides, she needed some time to think to herself.


Option C

If anyone has cared to notice, it's been a few days since Nancy'd been seen around London, or even responded to any sort of texts or anything. Her phone is off, and she's more than happy to spend her time right now sitting on the couch with her cat in her lap and read. Reading would lead to drinking and watching television, or even practicing videogaming but all the same, the fact remained she was lonely. Lonely and bored. First July kept her in the house for the Hunt, and now August had her nearly unable to open her mouth at all to have any sort of normal human interaction.

And, when it was feeling like it was going to be impossible to ever lift the curse, she started researching. She had a few books hidden away from when she lived at the Den, and poured over them, attempting to find a solution to her problem.


Option D
Wild Card. Make your own prompt.

Comments

[falsify]

Well it doesn't solve the mystery of who, but it seems like a what. In the back of his mind, there's some concern about Balem-- about Cephei knowing any of Nancy's secrets, but he's far more concerned with potentially having solved this part of the puzzle.

"Secrets," Eames blurts as soon as the thought comes to him and he stops for a moment like he's surprised to hear his own voice. It's little more than a temporary stop though, continuing on with an edge of enthusiasm that isn't often seen from him, "I imagine I'd be correct in assuming you don't share that particular part of your history, mm? If you felt 'lighter' afterwards, I'd bet the key to ending this curse is sharing a specific number of secrets."

Boom. Nailed it. Someone get the man a drink because he is feeling triumphant.

[stauncherhearted]

"no," she told him. "I don't like people knowing that my mother lost me in a deal." your first-born was a popular demand for payment for a reason. she didn't even know her mother's name, just that she was a witch and Nancy was sure she had her wand now..

Eames appeared to be on to something, but secrets? a certain number? "I can't do that." she'd lose everyone if she said some of her secrets. and the question was, how many? if that even was the curse.

[falsify]

He deflates a little at having his brilliant revelation tossed aside, but he gets it. Nancy's is a world of secrets, and that's a large part of what keeps her safe. Eames can't even imagine how hellish it would be to be compelled to tell the truth; being unable to lie is certainly its own source of frustration on occasion.

Honestly, it makes Nancy something of a liability. If he hadn't already invested his time, he'd cut his losses and move on - a witch compelled to honesty for God knows how long is of extremely limited use - but he has, and he's still curious about how her magic will develop, so he's stuck trying to help her out of this particular bind.

"Try a priest?" He offers after some thought, "maybe unload on a drunk stranger and slip them a memory potion? Could be nice to get all that off your chest."

[stauncherhearted]

"I'm Jewish," she told him flatly. Odd, a Witch that was also Jewish, she supposed, but if Fagin could manage it, and raised her at all, it was very much possible. "And I don't think rabbis are under the same confidentiality agreement." She wrinkled her nose, running her fingers through her hair with maybe a bit more force than was necessary.

"But that could work. As awful as it sounds. I just don't even think a drunk would believe half of what I'd tell him."

[falsify]

"Presuming they actually have to believe you, of course." Eames looks at her with raised eyebrows. It's a little more involved than he'd expect a random curse to be, but then without knowing who did it or why it's impossible to really give much insight to this situation and how it all works.

"Either way," he adds after a thoughtful pause, "it's worth a go. Worst that happens is some drunk thinks you're insane for half an hour."

[stauncherhearted]

"if they try to put me away, I'm calling you, I'll have you know." For bail-related problems, she called Fagin. Yes, even that old devil had his cellphone. It was a bit strange, always, to see him pull it out of his old-fashioned coats and hats. But everyone needed cellphones now, even the Fae.

At least she could make fun of her situation. Sort of. When she wasn't about to cry over it.