EVENT: Wandering the halls

[ladyghostwidow]

Name(s): Open to anyone not in the Library log!
Location: All over-- except the Library and Great Hall
Week: 41
Time: Around midday Saturday onwards, following the posting of Cid's journal
Rating: Uhhhhhm. There is violence, all mun approved, and a crazy ghost.

Note 1:PLEASE SEE THE POST IN THE OOC COMM ABOUT INTERACTIONS IN THIS LOG. REPLYING THERE

Comments

Uhm.

[ladyghostwidow]

It was a fickle thing, wasn't it? Life and all the trimmings? Belladonna examined the flesh beneath her nails. When had she last had such a thing? Willamina Willowsparrow? "No," she murmured to herself, idly picking the remains out and inspecting them. Without looking up, she addressed Sabriel. Sabriel, the insolent little one that had thought to drive her from this place. So naive. Oh well. She'd see. The web was already being spun was it not? Yes. It was. It was dancing icy fingertips a c r o s s the g r o u n d.

"It's a funny thing, life. So unreliable. It comes and goes without our seeing to have any control," she started, not looking up, but instead raising her wand to her mouth. She dragged her teeth and her tongue down it, tasting the magic and blood soaked into the dark wood, and a quiet laugh spilled forth. "It's so fleeting. So, so fleeting. Tick tock tick tock up and a r o u n d the mulberry bush, tangled thorns and blackened hearts, tick tick tick tick," her words were rushing into a frenzied whisper as she slashed her wand down and across, using it more like a dagger than a sword, movements almost hypnotic as she twisted right around to stand behind Sabriel.

Sweet, sweet Sabriel. Quite a treasure. Shame about that dirty tongue and filthy soul.
"Sabriel. Darling Sabriel," she breathed, and the ice spell that she'd cast between her rabid steps was crawling up the girls arms to render them useless. "Time is fleeting. Running out for you-- but! but, my darling Sabriel," and Belladonna gripped her wrist, hard enough to call up a purple bloom of glorious bruised roses, "Sabriel, where do we go to find the fly to feed the spider?"

Her smile was wicked. "I'm h u n g r y, Sabriel. Have you gone three hundred years without a thing to dine on, and then had a banquet lain at your feet?"

She guessed not.

[OOC: Yeah, this is her going a little crazy on the fun times. Let me know if you are unhappy/uncomfortable with it and I will gladly change it. orz]

Re: Uhm.

[as_bells_toll]

She felt sick, a rolling wave of nausea crawling up in her throat making her feel unable to speak. Sabriel had known Belladonna was dangerous, deadly, but she at least thought she would have a fighting chance.

The ice was growing fast, and one of her arms was already held fast and tight in the harsh grip of the formal ghost. That left Sabriel with one hand, and little time before the ice took that chance from her as well.

Still, she had to try.

"Webs are delicately spun." Sabriel whispered, a plan forming haphazardly in her mind. "Beautifully sinister, but still a delicate balance that is so easy to snap."

She acted fast, the arm not in Belladonna's grasp jerked wildly, earning several harsh scrapes from the growing ice as she scrambled to get a bell. Saraneth, a heavy but trusted bell, was the one she took hold of. The Binder was her only chance--but the ringing fell short, warbled in her hurry. Damn it.

[ladyghostwidow]

"Those t o y s are not permitted," the Widow whispered against Sabriel's ear. "For-bid-den items in these halls." Shimmering filigree that hooked around the Ravenclaw's fingers and up her hand at an alarming rate encompassed the bell, the magical frost far stronger than it had any right to be.

This was verging on intoxicating, the return to a purpose to which she had been so well suited. Belladonna's grip tightened around Sabriel's hand, slowly pulling back. "There s h o u l d be order kept to keep e a c h and a l l wrapped up and safe, should there not?"

Oh yes. Yes, there should. There was no denying it. Not now, not evermore. She smiled against Sabriel's neck. "You m!u!s!t! be punished for your sssssinssss."

Her grip tightened and snapped back, with the sickening crack of bone drifting to her ears like music most divine. "You shall be cleansed. Fear not."

[as_bells_toll]

No. The bell was silent, and she couldn't run now. For the first time Sabriel could feel the terror creep in, just on the edges. She had known she could die here--why was she starting to fear that fact now.

And one had to give her credit, she had tried to keep her face straight as Belladonna's hand snapped back and she felt her own break in that grip. She had tried, but the sharp cry of pain still left her.

"It is you who will...who will end up punished." She panted, her face still in a grimace of pain. "Someone will put you back in your place you miserable old hag."