primrosella | Entries tagged with hit rock bottom; began to dig

( Private || Hackable by Friends )

[Filtered AWAY from the Deities | Attempted Unhackable]

I'm sure most everyone has noticed by now the carousel animals' recent habit of jumping off their posts and stampeding throughout the City. It's an unexpected occurrence, I think, but hardly a surprising one at this point. It's May, after all, and strange things always seem to happen in the month of May, just as October tends to be a particularly horrifying month when it comes to the curses.

Still, I think this May is turning out to be much different than the ones I've seen before it. It isn't the first time I've ever heard the clock wind down into silence, and it's not the first time I've seen the animals leave the carousel and attack the passerby. What is different, though, is how long things have gone on--and how quiet the deities have been in response to it. Horrible things have happened before, but it's strange that the deities have been so silent. Moreover, they haven't stepped in to intervene this time, as they sometimes have in the past. Last year they fairly finished off the shepherdess for us, and spent a certain amount of time talking amongst themselves about her, as well. But this year there's nothing, and there haven't been any unusual invaders the way there have been in previous years; on the contrary, it almost seems as though this year the City itself is acting to cause the mischief.

It seems clear, though, that the deities aren't willing to step in this time. They left us to manage the problem of the barrier for ourselves, and it seems as though they plan to do the same for the clock and whatever else might be tied to it.

Two words have shown up now, since this trouble seemed to begin--"death", and "IECENVDE", which we think might unscramble into the word "evidence". Death and evidence could point to any number of things, really: to blood, to wounds, to the graveyard, or to the dead in the City themselves. Blood and wounds, of course, are evidence of death on their own; a graveyard is evidence of death because it's where the dead are laid to rest, and where those places are marked with headstones. And it doesn't seem to make much sense, having a graveyard at all in a place where the dead are made to live again, but it's played a role in a few times of trouble before this--once when people that tried to escape the City were put into graves instead, and another time when it filled with all new gravestones, ones that bore the names of visitors that had come to see us, and digging down into the graves only led to a set of catacombs beneath the graveyard itself.

And then there are the dead in the City, who can't help but be evidence of death just by existing here. Adrastus's mother once suggested that she was the one who paid for the dead in the City, who gave them the chance and ability to live again here. And the first time I met her was just around two years ago this month, when she came to collect Adrastus in the beginning of May.

It's hard to say, with all this in mind, what might be going on. Whatever it is, it's certainly not a series of events we've seen before, though bits and pieces of it have shown up in other places here and there--the clock stopping, the harpies, the carousel animals. And all in the early days of May.

But I think what's becoming clearest of all is that things can't go on like this, and something will have to be done because the deities certainly don't seem inclined to do it for us. There was a second way of restoring the barrier, after the first came down; what's to say there isn't a similar way of restarting the clock, if we can only find it? That seems to be the problem most at hand; if the City revolves around the clock and it's the City that's against us at the moment, then perhaps mending the clock will also mend the City. Perhaps that's the thorn in the lion's paw that only needs to come out for things to resolve themselves again. ~~But I can't face that clock, I can't--~~

Which I suppose, at the risk of mixing my fables, leaves just one question: who, then, will bell the cat?

[OOC: Bzns has officially become srs. Anybody with information about the Omens Plot who wants to get together and chat it out, consider this an open forum to do so! Threadjack, talk amongst yourselves, whatever. Rosella, for her part, is still suffering from phantom pains and is fixin' to get that clock fixed; if she answers you in voice or video, feel free to notice she sounds rather strained and tense. o/]

Current Mood: determined

( Private || Hackable by Friends )

There's a story in one of my favorite fairy tale collections about a little princess with six brothers, all of them older than she. And of course, as fairy tales usually go, there's a wicked stepmother--and one who is a witch at that--who grows jealous of her husband's love for his children, so she decides to curse them all by turning them into swans. And she manages to do it, almost, except that she happens to miss the little princess with her curse. So the brothers turn into swans and fly away, and the princess is left alone and distraught with all her family taken away from her. But the princess resolves to chase after her brothers, so she runs after them as they fly away, and follows them for days and days.

One night, as she stops to rest, the six swans fly down and transform back into her brothers for a short spell, and tell her the nature of the curse they're under. They're condemned to live as swans for all but a quarter of an hour of each day, and the only way to break the spell is if someone vows to go for six years without ever smiling, or laughing, or speaking a single word, and to sew them each a shirt of thistles in the meantime. And if she slipped even once, then the curse would set, and it could never be broken again.

On my first anniversary here, I remember thinking about that story. I'd seen so many wonderful and terrible things in that one year of life in the City, and the princess in the tale went for six times that, never speaking a word, for the sake of the people she loved. It's really rather extraordinary, isn't it? The things we can do when we know someone is counting on us to succeed.

She managed quite a lot, that little princess, and on less hope than many of us have here.

It's certainly something to think about, isn't it?

Current Mood: quiet

( Private || Hackable by Friends )

[Voice Post]

Would anyone--

[A brief pause; a careful swallow. And then she tries again, her voice more steady than before, but thinner somehow, and a bit too cheerful.]

That is, I was thinking of spending the evening out tonight, if anyone would care to come along? Cain? Neil, Todd? Or Claire, or--it's just, I thought it might be exciting to make a bit of an adventure of it, and try something different, and of course adventures are always more pleasant with company, aren't they? And perhaps we could walk around and find someplace new to visit--a restaurant we've never been to before, or that building with all the lights and colors and games, or something else new and interesting to look at...

[Another pause; she feels as though she's doing terribly at this, but she's already lost out on one resolution after only a week of the new year, and she's loath to break another. So she pushes on.]

I think it'd be lovely to...that is, if it isn't too much bother, I'd like to see you. That's all.

[She's quiet another moment, but she's said what she needs to say, and so she quietly clicks the audio off.]

[OOC: More friends leaving = one sad Rosella. Please try to cheer her up, someone? She's having kind of a rough time of it.]

Current Mood: glum

( Private || Hackable by Friends )

Thank you again to everyone that offered help with trying to catch Snowdrop the other day. We did manage to coax her out, in the end, and she and Prince are both safely back at the Warehouse now. Prince is settling in well--which I suppose is only natural, since we brought his whole bowl and everything with him, so the only thing that's really changed for him is the view outside his glass--and seems content enough. Snowdrop has taken to avoiding me, I think, but I know she's been eating the food I've been setting out for her, and I've seen flashes of white fur every so often, so I think she's still just getting used to being in a new place. There are certainly plenty of places for her to hide around here, and if she'd rather not be found, then that's all right, too.

...I think there's a curse out today, if all the, er, odd things outside are any indication. So it seems we're back to our usual variety of curses. I remember having the last one once before, when we all went to school and took tests and then had a ball to celebrate; this time was a bit different, but it was still just as busy and silly as before. But I suppose it's harmless, really, and I hope that today's curse is just as harmless, even if it is a bit...strange.

~~I shouldn't ask, bu~~
~~Please, I know there's a curse, but could som~~
~~I don't want to be alone right no~~

Do you suppose it's too ridiculous outside to go for a walk today, or would it be better to just stay in, instead?

Current Mood: quiet

[Accidental Video Post]

[The video opens with the sound of a click, revealing a lopsided view of what appears to be a bedroom--and Rosella, on her hands and knees, peering beneath the bed. Her hair is fanned out behind her in a curling mass of gold, a sharp contrast to both her blue dress and the carpet beneath her. However, there is something strange about the scene: anyone who knows Rosella will be able to identify at once that this is not her own bedroom, since the floor is actually visible, and her surroundings are neat and tidy. Sitting nearby, partially obscuring the frame, sits a brown basket with a blue ribbon tied around the handle and a few fuzzy-looking towels and sheets inside.]

There you are. You remember me, don't you? Yes, of course you do, it's just me, see? It's just me. Now come here, Snowdrop. Come here...

[She reaches a little farther under the bed, making a faint noise of frustration.]

Please come here? I know, I'm sorry, it's been--it's been days, I'm sorry, but I was cursed and acting quite silly and I didn't know any better, or I would've been here much sooner. Snowdrop, come here, come on...

[But gradually, she stops reaching, and instead just sits still and looks under the bed, apparently watching something.]

I'm sorry, but you have to come with me. I have to take you home with me, Snowdrop. Please come out? I know you like it here much better, but...but Blue isn't here to take care of you anymore. And that means that now you've got to...to come live with me, instead. Please? And Prince, too, we'll bring him back with us, we won't forget him. I'll remember. I'll...

Please come here, Snowdrop? I know it won't be the same without Blue looking after you, and that you're...going to miss him, so much, so very much...

[Slowly, Rosella sinks from her hands and knees to the ground, now lying on her side with her head resting against the floor and one arm still stretched beneath the bed.]

Please come out. We have to go home, Snowdrop...to the Warehouse, I mean. You have to come back with me. I promised Blue I'd look after you, and I can't look after you if you won't come out. We can't just stay here...we have to go home, so you have to come out. We can't stay here forever. We have to go home. We can't...can't...

[She slowly trails off, going quiet and hardly moving, just lying still half-curled on the floor.]

I know how much you're going to miss them, Snowdrop...

[And after another few seconds of silence, the feed ends.]

[OOC: So Blue went home on Monday, and thanks to the High School curse following immediately afterward, Rosella hasn't had to actually face that reality until now. Sob, two of her dearest friends in three months, poor kid. Feel free to recognize Blue's apartment or the fact that the cat she's projecting her sadness onto is Alice's, and put two and two together from there!

Also, for anyone interested, my HMD thread is here!]

Current Mood: sad

( Private//Hackable by Friends )

[Voice Post]

[The audio switches on to the sound of shaky, uneven breathing, punctuated by the occasional sniffle; it is immediately evident that the person behind the device has been crying, and is doing everything she can to keep herself under control long enough to speak. Perhaps it would have been easier to rely on text for this post, but there is something removed, something impersonal, about the thought of delivering this message in writing. So she will speak, even if she has to fight to retain her composure every step of the way. When she finally does manage to find words, they come in a thin voice that trembles every so often, and threatens to crack at any moment.]

My best friend once saved the whole world.

[She draws a slow breath, then continues:]

He showed me once--well, no, a few times, really. They made a movie about what he did, you see, and he had it and he showed me. We watched it together. I remember thinking I could never do the things he did--I was scared out of my wits, just watching those events on the movie on the screen. I could hardly imagine what it must have been like, being there in person. But he was, and he did, and the world--the whole world, every bit of it--was saved. Because he was there.

He...he was always there. For me--for anyone who needed him. I think I just needed him more than most other people. He once...he once burned his eyebrows off, saving me from a dragon, and oh, didn't he look silly afterwards--and I teased him about it, too, and took pictures, but I was always so, so glad, even so, because if he hadn't been there...I don't know what I would've done if he hadn't. There were a lot of times like that, when I don't think--when I'm not sure what might've been, if he hadn't been there. But he always was.

He was.

[She swallows hard.]

That's...what he's doing now. Sam Witwicky, off to save the whole world. It needed him again, and he...of course he...

[And now, at last, her voice breaks, and a single sob escapes her lips. As she reaches to switch off the Network device, intent on ending the recording before she breaks down any further, her last whisper reaches the microphone.]

He's really gone.

[And then, with a click, the recording ends.]

[OOC: BRB CRYING FOREVER. So Sam has left the City and returned home to save the world once again during Transformers 2; Rosella is understandably distraught, considering she's just lost her best friend of a year and ten months. But at least he managed to say goodbye, so...she's not quite as much of a wreck as she might've been. But please, won't someone give the poor princess a hug? :( ]

Current Mood: depressed

[Accidental Voice Post]

[The recording switches on to the sound of a Network device skittering across dirt and stone, as though it has just been shoved or kicked away and it has turned on of its own volition.

For a long time, the recording is silent, save for the faint sound of shuddering, irregular breaths and the occasional high, strangled whimper. After a minute or two, the owner of the voice breaks down into a few wretched sobs, and then after a short while they are suddenly muffled again. It's clear that someone is sitting nearby, crying her eyes out and trying to stifle it. It's equally clear she has no idea that the recording is on.

After about another minute, she manages to compose herself somewhat, and the scraping sound resumes; this time, she is sliding it back toward herself, and as she picks it up, she makes a small squeak of surprise when she realizes it is already on. With a resigned sigh, she swallows hard and begins to speak, her voice thin and trembling.]

I'm--I'm so sorry. About yesterday. I know it--it doesn't make things any better, just saying that, but--

[She sniffles, fabric rustling near the microphone as she wipes her eyes.]

I was--cursed and--and Sam was too, and we took the wrong devices, he took mine and I had his and we were both cursed and all those things I said, those horrible things--it wasn't me, it was Sam, but it wasn't Sam either because he wasn't himself and I wasn't myself and we just--I'm so sorry, please, please, I didn't--

[Her voice cracks.]

The--the things I said. I didn't. Those horrible things, I didn't mean them, not any of them. I didn't know what I was saying. I...I don't really think any of that, and I'm so sorry, everyone I talked to while I was pretending to be Sam--there was a girl, one of Sam's friends--I didn't know her name, I still don't, but please, miss, if you're listening, please don't be angry with Sam, it wasn't him--it wasn't, it was me, and I just didn't know--I didn't know your name, that's all...

[Her voice rises in pitch as she starts talking faster and faster, clearly about to lose it again but forcing herself to keep talking.]

Sam's not--I didn't mean it, please, it's all just a mistake and I was cursed and we--I didn't mean it, I didn't, I didn't, I'm so sorry, I didn't know what I was doing! I never--Sam, I'd never, I'd--I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I never meant--I shouldn't have--

[She breaks off suddenly, choking down a sob, and takes a few shaking breaths to steady herself before she tries to continue.]

I'm so sorry, I'm sorry, it's all my fault, I did it, I should've known better--I should've stopped myself and I didn't and now I can't--I can't stop seeing it, over and over, every time I close my eyes...

[As she breaks down once again, she fumbles with the device. Her fingers are trembling too hard to work the switch smoothly, but she eventually manages to get the feed turned off.]

[OOC: So, um, yeah. It wouldn't be the Ides of March without somebody literally getting stabbed in the back, right? ( Which means...OOC TL;DR goes here! )

Feel free to action her up if your character would think to look for her out there (since it's an old standby hiding place of hers), but she's not particularly interested in leaving it at the moment. And of course, Network for everyone else.]

Current Mood: distraught

( Private//Hackable by Friends )

It's quiet out today, isn't it?

The barrier is patched. That strange man is gone. The animals are back, and they say that soon they'll let the people out, too, if they haven't already. Has anyone come back, or did they finally make it home, after all? I wonder.

Is it over? Can it finally, finally be over?

Sam, if you need me to do anything for you today, just yell for me. Or call on my device. I'll wake up, I promise.

~~Please just let it all be over.~~

[OOC: Hello, rock bottom. Fancy meeting you again! Fortunately, the only way to go from here is up, right? Also, this is kind of placeholdery; I have to step out soon, but I'll get back to all tags as soon as I can.]

Current Mood: exhausted

[Accidental Video Post]

[Rosella is standing near the edge of the lake in Xanadu, her back to the camera as she gazes out over the water. This is the second time in two days that she's come out here, but this time she is alone, a solitary figure wrapped up snugly in a bright red cloak. She moves, and there is a brief glimmer of silver as she raises her flute to her lips and begins to play, gentle and sad. It's not a perfect rendition by any means, but she's not playing to perform; indeed, from the way she's acting, it's clear she doesn't even realize that her device is recording at all.

As she draws to a close, she slowly lowers her flute and stands a moment in silence before beginning to speak.]

It's strange, isn't it, to watch the world fall to pieces before your very eyes?

[She glances down at her flute, then back up again at the rip in the barrier, out over the water.]

Once upon a time, I would've believed it was really you out there. But how many times I have I learned, again and again, that all they ever do is spin out lies and half-truths and hollow promises? Maybe the truth really is that they'll never let us go.

Maybe I'm the awful one, that I can't find it in myself to believe so easily anymore.

This world and that world, and I'm halfway between. I don't know what the right answer is, Daddy. I don't know what the right thing to do is this time. I can't choose. I don't want to choose, don't make me...

[An abrupt pause, as she covers her face with her free hand and chokes on her words. A minute later, when she's managed to compose herself, she returns to speaking, softer than before.]

There was a day, once upon a time, when I accepted the thought that I'd never see any of you again. But I will. I know I'll see you again. I'll be home someday, I promise.

But this isn't home. It's nothing but a lie.

[She stands in silence a moment, the wind playing about the hem of her cloak and the curls of her hair, and then she raises the flute and begins to play once more.]

[OOC: Yeah, um, she's having a really bad week. So much for December looking up with the coming of the holidays? Right. Anyway, the link is not necessarily the exact song she's playing, but it's pretty and fit the mood, so there you go. Action for anybody out by the lake, Network for everyone else.]

Current Mood: numb

[Filtered AWAY from Sam Witwicky | Blue's Codes | Unhackable]

~~I don't even know what to say but~~

For any friends of Sam Witwicky, he's in the hospital right now.

To anyone that normally has occasion to go in the buildings near the Warehouse, please take caution. There's a ~~machine~~ trap in one of them. I didn't see any others, but there might very well be more, so please don't go there at all if you can at all help it. It's dangerous.

I know a lot of his friends have left the City, but please, for anyone still here, I'm sure it would mean a lot to him to see you, when he's allowed to have visitors. Even if you can only spare a little while, I'm sure it'd be greatly appreciated.

I think I'll be staying here for a while, too.

~~Blue, I'm scared~~

I don't know if this happened because of one of the boxes, or if it's something else entirely, but I think it would be wise if everyone were very careful from now on.

I don't know what else to do.

[OOC: Right, so. Sam got Saw-cursed, Rosella found him, and now he's in the hospital while she's a nervous wreck. Someone distract her?]

Current Mood: worried

Once upon a time there lived a king whose only son was very sick, and nothing in the world brought the little prince any joy at all. Then one day, he heard a nightingale singing outside his window, and the music was so sweet and so lovely that the boy began to smile for the first time in years. The king was so glad to see his son smiling that he ordered all his men to chase down the nightingale and put it in a cage, and bring it back for his son so that he might always have that beautiful music to lift his spirits.

The end of the story is predictable enough; the nightingale refuses to sing, and the prince grows sad, and he begs his father to let the bird go and be free of its cage. And when he does, the nightingale stays outside the window anyway, and sings for the prince, and they all live happily ever after. Or so the story goes.

I feel like that nightingale, sometimes.

I made a mistake, and I'm sorry for it, and I hate that I can't ever take it back now. I hate that I'll never know if I might've made a difference that night. I hate that people died when the prison exploded, and I hate that they were ever there in the first place, suffering through what they did. I hate that I couldn't save everyone somehow, even if it's foolish to think that I could've.

And I hate that one of the reasons why I didn't go that night is because my friends were trying to protect me.

I don't know why I keep blaming myself for it. Maybe it's because my friends were hurt while I stayed unharmed, safe at home. Maybe it's because I couldn't think of an answer that would let everyone live happily ever after. Maybe it's because I know I've done horrible things too, and yet no one came for me, the way that they came for my friends. Maybe it's because no one else seems to believe that those things are as horrible as I think they are.

I don't know what to do, and yet I know I have to do something. Doing nothing is what got me into this mess in the first place, so perhaps doing something will get me out of it. I hate that I don't know why I'm so upset. If I knew, I could figure out how to fix it, but I don't and so I can't. I wish I could fix it so that things like that would never happen again.

If I had gone to the prison that night, I think I might've died. I think it's likely that I would've been caught in the explosion, still trying to free people from their cells. That's the trouble with racing a clock that you can't see; there's always the risk you'll take too long and never know it. So maybe my friends were right to keep me home.

But it should've been my decision, not theirs. Maybe that's why I'm still blaming myself.

Or maybe it's that, when it comes down to it, I'm more helpless than I'd like to admit that I am, and sometimes there really isn't anything I can do to fix a problem. I can't save everyone. People are going to get hurt and I won't be able to stop it, and I can't change that.

But it should've been my decision.

I know what everyone else wants. But what do I want? What do I want?

...All I know is that I want to stop feeling like this.

There's also a story about a king that offered a rich reward for anyone that could make his sickly daughter laugh, you know. Perhaps that's not such a bad idea. I don't know how rich of a reward I can offer, but I'm willing to try, since there's precedent for it, anyway.

[OOC: Yup, she's cursed. How 'bout them elephants? And I promise she'll start to cheer up soon, too. Last weekend just hit her pretty hard, that's all.]

Current Mood: gloomy

( Private//Hackable by Friends )

I see, now. How very clever. First make the animals attack us, then set the stuffed ones on us, and now treat us all like animals. That's terribly clever, isn't it? Three bad things, all in a row, just as we'd all been expecting, and all to do with animals.

But it begs questions, doesn't it? Why this? Why now? Why are some people taken and others left alone? And who could possibly deserve the things being done to the people in there? Prison, punishment, seeking repentance for sins--that's all well and good, but if you have to resort to torture to seek it, how are you any better than the ones you intend to punish? What does it solve? Where does it stop?

This isn't justice. ~~It makes me sick--~~ This is suffering for the sake of suffering. Fuel for the clock again, is it?

And now it's said that the island is sinking. The deities have as good as confirmed it, in their roundabout ways--"rats drown with the ship", "tick-tock, get out quick", "time is not on your side". Is it so hard to guess what the "exciting conclusion" might be? And what does that mean for the people that haven't or won't or can't accept the parole that's been offered, I wonder? Or perhaps I don't have to wonder at all.

But perhaps the question that's most important of all is this: do the ends always justify the means? Is it worth it to become a monster to defeat a monster? To punish people with the same methods that they themselves are being punished for? Or does answering evil with evil only result in twice as much evil at the end of it all? When is it poetic justice, and when is it just plain cruelty?

Perhaps it's the reasons behind it, in the end, that make all the difference. And no matter what anyone might say, I have a difficult time believing that any of this is truly being done for our sakes.

Current Mood: stressed

( Private//Hackable by Friends )

[Filtered from Alexis Hargreaves | Blue's Codes | Unhackable]

Has anyone been counting which bad thing we're on, at the moment? If bad things come in threes...well, I think we're into multiples of three, now, at this point.

Still, the only bad thing about today seems to be that I feel awful there's still hair everywhere, and it seems that we've been left to clean it up. Which, in comparison to everything else that's been happening lately, isn't such a bad thing at all, but it's still tedious.

And yesterday was Mother's Day? We don't have that in Daventry, but I think it's a lovely holiday to have. Mothers...really are important, aren't they? And often we don't give them enough thanks for all the things they do for us, so I think it's nice that there's a whole day set aside for recognizing and thanking them. It'd be better, I think, to thank them every day for the things they do, but sometimes we forget, or...don't notice, or don't have the chance. So it's nice to have a whole day reserved for it. Especially since I think most of us don't have our mothers with us here in the City...

Well. It's been an exhausting few weeks, hasn't it? No wonder I'm so tired. I sat down to rest for a minute, earlier today, and it seemed like I only closed my eyes for a moment, but I think I must've dozed off. Imagine that...

Mm. Well. In any case...mm. ssmsffsosfsffffssssss

[OOC: Poor Rosella's been through a lot in the last few weeks, and all the stress has finally caught up with her--so now she's gone and caught herself a cold. Expect her to be a little tired, glum, and out of it today~ ~~Also, kind of a placeholder; I'll be back soon.~~ And back!]

Current Mood: sick

( Attempted Private//Somewhat Hackable )

...Goodness, I slept in late today. I must've been very tired; I do hope I'm not coming down with anything. Being sick a few months ago was more than enough illness for me, thank you very much.

I do wish I'd checked the Network earlier, though. I suppose I should've guessed that finding candy in my room was the cause of a curse ~~and not anything else~~. Are they all as sad as the ones I received, I wonder? I'm sorry, I promise I won't eat any more than I already have. I didn't realize. And if they're meant to be secrets...I won't tell. On my honor. ~~But that doesn't mean I won't worry, just the same.~~

Still...I know this is a very strange way to be introduced, but if someone by the name of the Tianzi should happen to read this, I'd like very much to speak with you, if you have a moment.

[OOC: Sad princess is sad--and hasn't come out of her room all day. And as if her own mood wasn't bad enough, she also got Rue's DESPAIR, Blue's HEARTBREAK, and Tianzi's INSECURITY, all in a row. So basically...yeah, she's not coming out.]

Current Mood: numb

HELP!

Please, anyone—someone, please help, ~~I don’t know how to~~ there must be something that can be done!

People—people are being turned into stone, but isn't there—of those who have been turned into stone, has anyone been changed back? How can they be changed back? Sam's been turned to stone and I can't—

A spell, or—can people be changed back from a medusa's spell? There must be a way, even if the legends say—no, no, that's not right, people can't die here, it can't be that way—he promised that—no, that means there has to be a way, that means I can fix this somehow...

Where can I go? Genesta, you'd know what to do—Alexander, where are you now? You could fix this, couldn't you? Someone here must be able to help! There must be a spell or a charm or some kind of...

Fairies, wizards, magicians, anything of the sort—please, it doesn't matter what it takes, but please, there must be a way for this magic to be undone!

UPDATE:
Mr. Harry Dresden, you've been looking into these curses? Please, if there's anything that can be done to help break the spell, I'll gladly do it!

[OOC: Aaaaaand cue Rosella's freakout. Which is to say, the poor girl won't be sleeping for the next couple days, 'cause she'll be spending all her time looking for a way to break the curse. Feel free to intervene? >>]

Current Mood: distressed

( Attempted Private//Woefully Hackable )

What's wrong with the forest? It was never this murky before...

[OOC: She's affected by the bad vibes coming off the forest, but fighting it off like it's going out of style. Mood swings are a definite possibility!]