#re.drabbles

Send me a ✗ to hear about a physical scar and a ✧ to hear about an emotional scar.

Jae’s been through a lot and while those who are significantly closer to her realise and understand that, most people are not privy to that information and it’s sometimes shocking to them to hear her stories whether it be her spilling her guts after one too many drinks or when she’s drowning in the abyss of her mind. Even at those moments, she was still somewhat aware of herself and her words and kept them as guarded as she could with her tongue so loose and her heart equally as heavy. But this stranger; a random of many randoms had stumbled into her presence and simply asked. 

With a wry smile and gaze that only matched the smile in part, she took a seat and gestured for the other to take a seat; her eyes tracking the other female as she got settled in the empty seat. She beckoned for two cups of tea and chose to use the waiting time to gather her thoughts. She could always back out and not respond; go back to her shell and remain there. Or she could be open and honest and clear some of the darkness that had settled in her being throughout her life(ves). So lost in her thoughts was she that her scent of pure green tea with the underlying scent of white tea and honey was the only thing to drag her out of her thoughts. She drew out her thoughts and inclined her head with a smile, a thanks for the tea and an underlying appreciation for dragging her out of her thoughts.

She reached for the cup and slowly brought it to her lips, wanting to savour the scent of the perfectly made drink to relax her sense before she would savour the taste. As the first sip of the warm drink seemed to warm her through and through, she set the cup back down and smiled softly at the other female.  She rolled up her left sleeve and held out her arm towards the other female, the fingers her right hand trailing along what appeared to be faint lines and markings. To the untrained eye, it looked like self-harm scars and to some extent, they were. As her fingers ran over the various markings, they seemed to darken as if they were rising to the surface of her skin to make themselves known. 

“These are runes. Not as in from the runic alphabet, but runes for runic divination…runic magick, whatever you wish to call it. They’re a bit obnoxious which is why I’ve gotten then hidden as much as I can from view. Also, let’s keep this a secret between the two of us, yes?” she grinned slightly before reaching for her cup again and taking a couple more sips. “My mother, she used to tell me the stories of Seiðr magic and how it was believed that while Norns were the true masters of said magic, there were cases in which humans could learn and master it.”

“When I was younger I didn’t think much of it. Let’s be honest there though, I was too young to give a fuck. Anyway, through these stories I learned more and more about runes and their meanings and one day, I caught a glimpse of my mother’s runes. I don’t think I was as taken aback as I should have been, but I was definitely enamoured,” she closed her eyes and sighed softly. “When my mother died, I still held on to the stories she told so that I’d remember her voice and soon that voice and those stories became things that haunted me to no extent. I remember being so deep in my nightmares and my sudden fear that I had developed a habit of carving the runes I saw on my mother’s arms into my own as if they deserved to be there or something. I used to trace them over and over, so they’d never properly heal. It’s why at first glance, they seem like self-harm injuries.”

She hummed softly and ran her fingers back over the markings until they faded and faint scars were left behind, “It isn’t clear, but if you look closely, they’re runes that don’t match up to my own runes. Isa, the rune that means ‘ice’ and is a rune of control. It sounds beautiful, but based on my understanding, the usage of isa could have dark effects and isn’t for the mentally weak, which I can openly admit that I am. Then there is othala. Which truth be told, I’m not quite 100% sure of it’s meaning or its significance to my mother. And finally fehu. Its meaning is livestock and wealth, I do believe it has something to do more with my mother’s upbringing and what she was accustomed to and how it tied in with her own magic and understanding…I think. I could be wrong. Of course there’s more, but you only asked for three and I gave you three.”

She offered another smile before finishing the last of her tea. She settled back against her seat and rolled her sleeve back down. She crossed her legs and closed her eyes to mentally prepare herself to continue. It was one thing to talk about her physical scars, but emotional were…well, emotional and that was always just another can of worms that took more out of her than anything probably ever would. But she had made this far and she’d be damned if she didn’t continue.

Mourn — I’ll write a drabble of my character mourning yours.

Jae felt time slow and stop as she watched one of the few people to be called her partner in crime fall to the ground, her body bruised and bloodied in a manner than she hadn’t seen it ever before. She stumbled her way over to the lifeless body and knelt down beside it, her own hands bloodied as she tried to wipe away the blood coating the other’s face. She belatedly realised she was trembling and that tears were rolling down her face with a ferocity she hadn’t have happen to her since she was that scared little girl in the corner of that dingy, yet familiar bedroom. She gasped out a soft sob and covered her mouth to silence herself. Carnage laid around her, but instead her focus was drawn to the cooling body in front of her. She hung her head and uncovered her mouth, the sounds of her heart-wrenching sobs filling the air as she curled into herself and broke down. In the back of her mind, she silently thanked the other clan members for leaving her be for the time being.

When she finally calmed down, her sobs ceasing and her silence disconcerting, she signaled for someone to grab the body in front of her before she rose to her feet. Her right eye flickered between sapphire blue and blood red as she fought for control of her emotions until she gave in and allowed herself to sink into her anger; both of her eyes darkening to a pitch black hue and her posture straightening and tensing. She rolled her shoulder and neck, cracking the muscles there as she tensed defensively and aggressively all at once. Hissing softly at the first touch to her shoulder, she turned to face the owner of the appendage resting upon her shoulder, almost sadistically pleased to see the urge to draw back from her cross their face. She shrugged off their touch and took off her jacket, leaving her in only a bloodied and slightly torn tank top and an equally ruined pair of pants as she walked towards the exit. She paused to grab the weapons she’d discarded earlier on in the expectations of having a fair fight and smirked; a dark, little thing that only matched the pitch black hue of her eyes.

“If you don’t wish to watch a mass slaying then I advise you to stay here and pretend as if you’d never even known me. However, should you choose to join me, stay outside and out of my way. It’s my job to return the favour they’ve given me,” she turned to face the men and women who looked no better than she probably did and her eyes flickered blood red momentarily as her rage coursed through her veins like a shot of heroin. “…and return the favour, I shall.”