#violet liddell

Posting some sketches w my new OCs that based on Scary forest from "Snow White" and Talking flowers from "Alice in Wonderland"

Theyre names are Olive Nightwood (fairy guy) and Violet Liddell (shy girl). Will show them in future after I finish their backstory and more detailed arts!

They were made as love interests to my previous OCs lmao. I love them

Milo Clover w Olive Nightwood

"Finish your breakfast quickly, Violet," Rhoda said. "We have to leave to school soon."

Violet glared at her older sister's back. Lately, Rhoda had decided that she was too old to talk to children like Violet during school and spent breaks giggling with her friends while Violet wandered the schoolyard alone. Not that the other girls her age weren't nice. They were, Violet supposed. They were just...boring. Rhoda had been her only friend. Now she acted like she didn't care about Violet at all, except to boss her around.

"Come on, Violet." Rhoda nudged her. "We'll be late."

At the end of the table, Alice flinched.

Across from Violet, her two little brothers made faces at her. She grimaced back at them. They giggled.

"Violet," her mother started warningly, but then Lorina accidentally knocked over the jam jar with her elbow, sending strawberry jam splattering halfway across the table, and in the ensuing chaos, Violet and Rhoda escaped out the door.

Alice walked them to school. Each of Violet's older sisters, and occasionally her older brother Harry, took turns walking their younger siblings to school. Violet's old governess, who was now her little brother's governess, could have done it, but apparently it was good for the Liddell siblings to spend more time together or something.

Besides, Rhoda wouldn't have stood for it. She considered herself too grown-up to be walked to school by older siblings, let alone a governess, and was constantly attempting to convince the Liddell parents (unsuccessfully) that she was old enough to walk to school unsupervised. Rhoda was currently walking about fifteen metres ahead of Violet and Alice, far enough ahead to pretend that she wasn't related to them.

Violet skipped next to Alice, who was walking sedately. Violet knew skipping was unladylike, but it was fun, and she was young enough to get away with it for now.

Violet looked up at Alice. She was jealous of her. She was jealous of her and Edith and Lorina. The three oldest Liddell girls were close in age and the best of friends, doing almost everything together. Not like Violet and Rhoda. Rhoda was five years older than Violet and had recently declared herself far too mature to be playing "baby games."

Violet kicked a pebble. It landed near the gnarled roots of an oak tree.

"You're going to ruin your shoes, Violet," Alice chided. "Rhoda! Slow down!"

Rhoda rolled her eyes but slowed her pace somewhat.

"We'll catch up to her now," Alice declared. "What are you doing, Violet?"

Violet was peering into a mouse hole near where the pebble had landed, by the tree roots, and jumping from one side of it to the other side. She had read that small animals like mice could feel vibrations in the ground. She hoped that one would get curious about what those vibrations were outside its hole and come out. Maybe she would be able to catch it. Maybe Mother would let her keep it as a pet. Probably not, though.

"Violet!" Alice had reached Violet's side and was staring wide-eyed at the mouse hole in the ground. She nudged the pebble into the hole, than began scraping earth into it with her shoes-the same kind of shoes she had just told Violet she would ruin by kicking a pebble. Let alone this.

"Hey!" Violet started to protest, but Alice held her finger to her lips and continued until the hole was completely blocked by earth. Then she took Violet's hand and firmly led her away toward school.

A few days later, Harry, the oldest Liddell son, decided one evening that his youngest sister Violet was old enough to learn how to play chess. He set up the chess board at a side table.

Violet was excited. She scarcely ever got to spend time with her eldest brother.

"There are two teams," Harry started. "White and black. Although sometimes it will be red and white or red and black instead. The lighter color-in this case, white-goes first."

He moved one of the small pieces in the front row. "These are pawns. Pawns can move only one space at a time, except on each one's first turn, when it is allowed to move to spaces."

"Why?" Violet asked.

"To give it a head start, I suppose. Since pawns can't move very far at a time, they tend to get captured often. A pawn can capture another piece if that piece is diagonally in front of it." He took one of the black castle pieces and placed it diagonally in front of the white pawn, then moved the pawn to where the castle was and put the castle back in its spot. Then he took the castle away and put the pawn in its spot at the end of the board. "If the pawn reaches the end of the board," he told Violet, "it becomes a queen."

Violet heard a gasp and turned to see Alice standing at the doorway, staring at the chessboard, her hand covering her mouth. Her face was pale.

"Alice?" Harry asked.

Alice shook her head, said, "Nothing. Never mind," and walked very fast away from the room.

Harry shrugged and turned back to Violet. "The horse pieces are called knights..."

The next day was a bad day. Violet woke up late, didn't have time to finish her breakfast, was ignored the whole day by Rhoda, and was sent to bed early all by herself for throwing a tantrum.

It wasn't fair.

Violet glared at her reflection in the big mirror that hung by the bureau as she undid her hair. Her reflection glared back.

Then it winked.

Violet blinked hard. So did her reflection. She was almost certain that she hadn't winked. She definitely wasn't in a winking sort of mood.

Her reflection tugged on its earlobe. Violet looked at her hands, which were not anywhere near her ears.

She looked at her reflection, feeling fear, but also a growing sense of wonder. "You're...you're alive," she whispered.

Her reflection nodded.

"Can you talk?" Violet asked.

The reflection's lips moved, but no sound came out.

"You can talk, but I can't hear you," Violet guessed.

Her reflection nodded.

Violet checked the back of the mirror to see if there was anything that could cause her reflection to come to life, but it just looked like the regular back of a mirror. When she turned back to the front of the mirror, her reflection was laughing soundlessly, but not in a cruel way; more like Violet had just told a funny joke or some such.

"Will you..." Violet asked nervously, "will you always be here in my mirror now?"

Her reflection smiled.

Violet laughed.

Violet's reflection became her new best friend. Every morning she would stay in her room for as long as possible, talking to her reflection, and every afternoon she would rush to her room to do the same, until she was called down for supper. She began to go to sleep later, too.

Violet had figured out that her reflection–which she now called the mirror-Violet–couldn't hear her either, but she was able to lip-read, so she understood everything Violet told her. Violet wasn't able to lip-read very well, so her reflection communicated with her mostly by nodding or shaking her head, motioning, facial expressions, and writing notes on a piece of paper, although they were hard to read, since because it was written in the mirror, it was backwards.

Despite all this, Violet felt that her reflection understood her perfectly. After all, it was her.

Violet told her reflection everything–the distance she felt between her and her older siblings, the way Rhoda never wanted to play with her anymore, how she had no friends at school. Her reflection always nodded sympathetically and motioned for Violet to tell her more.

Violet began to feel wan and fuzzy, sort of as if she hadn't slept well, only she felt that way all the time. She grew quieter, and wandered aimlessly around–except when she was talking to her reflection. She felt as though talking to her reflection was the only thing that mattered.

Violet began to eat less, and sleep less, but she barely noticed. Her mother remarked, with some pleasure, that Violet was now much more well behaved than she had used to be, but both Edith and Alice looked somewhat concerned.

Violet didn't notice.

Violet never felt angry at Rhoda anymore, or jealous of Lorina and Alice and Edith, or upset at Mother for always taking Rhoda's side. She didn't feel happy when she had her favorite dessert on her birthday. She didn't feel excited when Harry offered to play chess with her again.

She didn't feel anything.

"Violet!" Rhoda exclaimed as the two of them trailed home after Edith.

"What," Violet said.

"I called your name four times. You really didn't hear me?"

Violet stared blankly ahead, not really registering what Rhoda had said.

"What's wrong with you?" Rhoda asked quietly.

Violet tried to think of a plausible excuse. It wasn't easy. She had found it hard to think of late. "Er. I didn't sleep good last night."

"Well," Rhoda corrected automatically.

"What?"

"You didn't sleep well last night. Not good. Well."

Violet sighed.

"Violet! Dinner!"

No answer.

"Violet! It's time to eat!"

Silence.

"VIOLET CONSTANCE LIDDELL!"

Still nothing.

"I'll get her," Edith volunteered. She padded up the stairs. "Violet?" she called softly, not wanting to startle her.

She reached Violet's bedroom door. "Violet?"

She knocked; still no answer. Edith tried the knob; it was unlocked. She opened the door.

Edith found Violet standing in front of her mirror, staring unblinking at her own reflection.

Edith laughed in relief. "So this is what you've been doing, Violet! Preening yourself in the mirror! Dazzled by your own beauty already? There will be time enough for worrying about how you look when you're older, you know."

Violet didn't move.

"Violet?" Edith stepped forward and placed her hand on Violet's shoulder. Violet jumped, startled, as though she hadn't realized Edith was there.

"Violet, everyone's waiting for you," Edith said.

Violet stumbled downstairs after Edith in a daze.

"I'm getting worried about Violet," Lorina confided to Alice and Edith. "She's getting so pale, even though it's almost summer, and whenever I talk to her, half the time it's like she doesn't hear me."

"I've noticed that too," Edith agreed. "And she isn't eating well. And I don't think she's sleeping well, either–she has these big black circles under her eyes. Do you think she's ill, Ina?" she asked, using Lorina's pet name.

"She should be getting more sleep, at least," Lorina suggested. "I'll ask Mother to start sending her to bed earlier. What do you think, Alice? Alice?"

Alice had been standing by the window, staring into the distance. She started at Lorina's voice. For a few moments she did not speak. Finally she began, "I think–" then stopped, moistened her lips, and began again: "I think we should be keeping an eye on her. Just in case."

And so Violet began to be sent to bed earlier, but she didn't mind. It allowed her to have more time in her bedroom, talking to the mirror-Violet. She began to stay up later and later talking to the Violet on the other side of the mirror, quickly jumping under her bedclothes and pretending to be asleep whenever someone checked on her, and then climbing out of her bed whenever whoever it was left to stare at the mirror some more, until she eventually fell asleep atop her blanket, fully clothed.

Violet felt like the whole world was gray and lifeless–except when she spoke to the mirror-Violet. She felt drawn to her mirror, like there was an invisible string pulling her to it again and again. She felt as though her mirror was the one thing that gave life and color to the world. Everything else felt quiet and muted, like she was underwater.

Violet was walking on a path through a wood. The wood was made up of tall, tall trees with very dark green leaves, and giant mushrooms that were taller than Violet was, and the occasional wild rosebush.

"What are you doing here?" a voice asked.

Violet turned. Crouching on top of one of the giant mushrooms–a gray one, with red speckles–was the largest cat she had ever seen. It looked as big as a lion. Its fur was dark ginger, but the tip of its tail, which was swishing to and fro beside it, was black. Its eyes were a blazing blue.

If Violet felt anything at all, at most it was mild interest. She hadn't felt emotions strongly enough to feel anything like fear for at least two weeks.

The fur on the cat's shoulders was bristling, but as it saw Violet's face its fur lay smooth and the cat seemed to calm. "You're not the other one," the cat said. "I thought you were the other one."

"The other one?" Violet echoed.

"You know." The cat shrugged. "The other one."

In a sudden, fluid movement, the cat bunched its legs together and jumped off the mushroom, landing less than a metre in front of Violet. Its head was almost exactly the same height as her chin.

Violet didn't flinch or step backward.

"Brave," the cat conceded. Its blue eyes blinked. "Or foolish. Or both." It cocked its head to the side. "Or–apathetic."

"What?" Violet said.

The cat sighed. "So it's already started."

"Started?"

The cat didn't answer. Instead it squinted at Violet, then took a step backward and regarded her from that short distance away. Its eyes sharpened. "You look like the other one."

"The other one?"

"You have the same eyes," the cat continued. "And the same fur. I mean, hair. And you're the same height as she was."

Violet put a hand to the top of her head. "Height?"

The cat took a step forward, its blue eyes blazing into Violet's own. It tipped its head to the side. Suddenly it turned and jumped back onto the mushroom. It paced around the top a few times before finally settling in a half-sitting, half-laying position. It looked at Violet. "Were you surprised to see me up here?"

"No," Violet said.

The cat looked disappointed. "No one's ever surprised to see me up here, not since I started. It's like, where else should I be? What else should be up here? Like nothing surprised anyone at all." It blinked at Violet. Although I feel that an allowance should be made in your case."

"My case?"

The cat thumped the side of the mushroom with its tail. "Stop repeating everything I say. "You're not through the looking-glass yet."

"The looking-glass," Violet whispered. She shivered and wrapped her arms around herself.

"Exactly." The cat nodded. "A word of advice to you–" The cat stood, stretched, and jumped off the mushroom again, landing right in front of Violet. It reared up on its hind legs and placed its front paws on Violet's shoulders. A small corner of Violet's mind noted the giant sheathed claws, the weight of the cat, and the smell of cat fur. Standing like this, the cat was nearly half again as tall as Violet was. It leaned down so its muzzle was level with Violet's ear. "Never double the mirror," the cat said.

The cat stepped back and took its paws off Violet's shoulders–she stumbled–and dropped back onto all fours. Then it jumped back on to its mushroom and settled into the same position it had been in before.

"Technically, that was four words," the cat clarified. "But you people are so fond of your expressions, even the ones that make no sense. Especially the ones that make no sense. And we're supposed to be the nonsensical ones?!"

Violet blinked.

The cat looked mildly concerned, inasmuch as a cat can look concerned. "You do know what 'double' means, don't you?"

"Double," Violet began. "Twice; to twice the amount or extent; in a pair; of two parts–"

"Yes, thank you," the cat said, cutting her off quite rudely, "no need to recite the entire dictionary entry. You know what 'double' means, then; don't do that to the mirror. Dispose of it, preferably."

Violet inhaled sharply.

The cat sighed. "Consider yourself forewarned," it said. "I have done all I can; I can do no more."

It looked up at the sky, then all around them, as if expecting something to come out of the wood, but nothing did.

"Fare thee well," the cat continued, sounding sad. Its eyes burned blue. "Or so I dearly hope." It smiled, but it was a sad smile.

Then the smile got bigger and bigger and wider and wider, slowly swallowing the rest of the cat bit by bit until all that was left of it was its huge smiling mouth hanging in midair.

"Give the other one my regards," the mouth said.

Then that, too, winked out.

Then Violet woke up.

As Violet dressed for the day she found a single strand of ginger fur on her shoulder. She held it between her thumb and forefinger and looked at it. Then she looked at her reflection.

Come now, her reflection seemed to say, though it spoke no words. You wouldn't believe a silly cat over me, would you?

Violet had an idea. She wasn't sure if it was her idea or the mirror–Violet's idea, but it didn't really matter, did it?

The idea went like this. Whatever the mirror-Violet did in the mirror came out backwards on Violet's side of the mirror, because mirrors reflected things backwards. That's why it was hard to read the notes the mirror-Violet wrote instead of speaking, because Violet had to read them backwards.

But what if the notes themselves were reflected? Then they would be reflected twice, and the backwards would be reflected frontwards, and she would be able to read them!

So she went and found an old silver-plated mirror of her mother's. On the way back to her room she bumped into Alice.

Alice put her hands on Violet's shoulders and looked into her eyes. "Where are you going?"

"My room," Violet said.

"To do what?" Alice asked suspiciously.

"Um," Violet said, trying to think of something. "Draw."

"Well," Alice said. "Later I'll be wanting to see one of your drawings, all right?"

Violet nodded. Anything to get Alice out of the way faster.

"Alice!" someone called from downstairs.

Alice turned, then stopped and turned back to her youngest sister. "Violet," she said seriously, "you know you can tell me anything, right?"

Violet nodded again.

"Alice!" someone called again.

Alice gave Violet one last penetrating look from her dark eyes, then went downstairs. The moment Alice was out of sight Violet ran to her room. She closed the door.

"Look!" she said to her reflection in the mirror, holding up the hand mirror. The mirror-Violet seemed to understand everything instantly; of course she did.

The mirror-Violet smiled and clapped her hands, then, taking a paper and ink from her side of the mirror, wrote a note. She held it up to the mirror.

Violet held up the hand mirror to reflect the big mirror.

The small mirror reflected the big mirror, and the big mirror reflected the small mirror, back and forth, back and forth, forever, like a tunnel of reflections, silver glinting all around, and she felt dizzy; she fell forward, into the tunnel–

And a hand curled around her wrist, ice-cold, pulling her forward, forward, and the glass was soft, like cloth, like water, but it was dry, although cold, as cold as the grip around her wrist, and then she was in the mirror, her feet leaving the ground; she gasped for air but found none: she didn't need air.

The cold entered her, freezing her from the inside.

She caught a glimpse of the note her reflection had written: I am you.

And then another hand grabbed her other arm, this one warm and pulsing and full of life, gripping her as tight as if she was life itself; it pulled her back and away, harder, harder, but the other hand pulled hard too, and Violet felt like she would split in two–

And then the second hand won, and it pulled Violet back; with a scream, the other hand slipped from Violet's wrist; it was the first time Violet heard the voice of the mirror-Violet, and it terrified her.

Then Violet was lying on the floor, and Alice was leaning over her, her short dark hair framing her face, her dark eyes, which were the exact shape and shade as Violet's eyes, wide in panic.

Then Alice dragged Violet backward, wrenched the hand mirror, which Violet still held tightly, out of her grip, and leapt over her. She faced the mirror, her face a mixture of terror and fury, and raised the hand mirror. She struck the big mirror with it. It splintered, a single long crack running down the mirror.

Violet felt that crack inside her chest; she tried to cry out but all that came out was a single strangled gasp. Alice hit the mirror again, and again, and again, until both mirrors–the hand mirror Alice held and the big one on the wall–shattered into a hundred pieces.

Violet fainted.

Violet woke up mostly under her blankets. She heard the murmur of worried voices around her. She was warm, truly warm, in a way she hadn't been since her reflection first started communicating with her. She also felt scared and bewildered and embarrassed and sad and relieved, all at once, somehow. All these were emotions she hadn't felt in a long time.

She burst into tears.

Someone gasped, and then her mother was there. "Violet, Violet, shh, it's all right," her mother said as she embraced her. "You gave us a scare, but you're all right now."

Edith appeared over Mrs. Liddell's shoulder and gave Violet a glass of water. "Drink this."

Violet drank it. It felt cool going down her throat.

"The doctor said it was just exhaustion," Lorina said from the other side of Violet's bed. "But we couldn't wake you up for almost a day."

Rhoda climbed onto the bed and hugged Violet. "Don't ever do that again!" she said, and Violet knew that Rhoda did love her after all.

Behind all her family members she saw a blank spot on the wall where the mirror had been, but the mirror itself was no longer there. And there was no more glass on the floor anymore either.

"The doctor said you should drink more," Edith said. "And rest more, and eat more, and get more fresh air."

"How is she supposed to get more fresh air and rest at the same time?" Rhoda wondered.

"I'll open the window," Edith suggested.

"She'll catch a chill!" Mrs. Liddell protested.

"It's nearly summer, Mother," Lorina noted placatingly.

They compromised by opening the window halfway.

Throughout it all, Alice said nothing.

The world was not quiet any longer; the world felt real and alive and colorful, almost as if Violet had been living in a photograph and was only now in the real world.

Eventually, everyone left except Alice, so as not to tire Violet out; Alice stayed to keep an eye on Violet "just in case."

Alice sat in a chair next to Violet's bed and regarded her, a crease forming on her forehead.

Violet was hungry. She hadn't been truly hungry in a while; she'd been hungry only for the mirror. But more than that, she felt curious(which was also something she hadn't felt in a while).

"What happened?" she asked, enjoying how sounds sounded clear and present again.

"I told everyone," Alice said, "that you'd fainted holding the hand mirror, and it fell and broke the one on your wall, but that I managed to catch you."

That didn't match up with the events in Violet's memory. "That's not what happened."

"No," Alice admitted. "It isn't."

Suddenly she got up and, taking Violet's left wrist in one hand, pressed two fingers to the underside of it with the other, where the hand met the wrist. Then she took out of a pocket a small compact mirror. Violet gasped and flinched away, but Alice looked into the mirror, held it right up to Violet's face, looked at Violet's reflection, looked at Violet, and looked at Violet's reflection again.

It didn't seem to be a mirror-Violet anymore. It was just a reflection.

Was Violet sad about that? Happy? Relieved? She wasn't sure.

Apparently satisfied, Alice put the mirror away. She rubbed her eyes.

Alice's eyes were the same shape and color as Violet's eyes.

You look like the other one, the cat had said. You have the same eyes.

"The other one," Violet said. "That was you."

"It was," Alice admitted. "How did you know?"

"There was a cat," Violet tried to explain.

"Oh, the Cheshire Cat!" Alice smiled fondly, suddenly looking a lot more like Edith. "Such a dear. It does try to be helpful–it gave me directions, you know, and came to see how I was getting on at the Queen's croquet game. What did it tell you?"

Violet focused on the part of Alice's statement that she understood. "I think it tried to warn me," she realized. "It told me not to double the mirror, but I didn't understand what it meant..." She looked at the wall where the mirror had hung.

"We took down the frame and cleaned up all the glass," Alice assured her. "But, I don't think you would have understood the cat anyway. You were too deep in the mirror by then."

"What do you mean?" Violet whispered.

Alice pressed her fingertips to her forehead for a moment. "How do I explain this....You know that a mosquito sucks blood, right?"

Violet nodded.

"This was sort of the same thing. Only instead of blood, it was–leeching–your personality, your feelings."

Violet wrapped the blanket tighter around herself.

"Its ultimate goal," Alice continued, "was to replace you. You would become your reflection, and your reflection would become you. You were already linked to the mirror–you fainted when I broke it. If it had been a little later–next week, even–you might have died when the mirror broke. It was draining you. But now that the connection's broken–you feel more...alive, don't you?"

Violet nodded mutely.

"I should have noticed earlier," Alice whispered. "I'm sorry."

She took Violet's hand in hers. "Promise me, Violet," she said, depths that Violet could only partially comprehend lurking in her eyes. "Promise me you'll do your best not to let this happen again. Don't let your reflection be the only thing in your world. There are real live people to talk to. Beware of mirrors."

Violet stared at the spot where the mirror had hung. She thought of Rhoda, and Harry, and Edith, and Lorina. She thought of the nice but boring girls at school.

And she thought of the terrible echoing scream her reflection had made when Violet was pulled out of her–out of its–grasp.

"I promise," she whispered.

Description: A new hero faces his first assignment. Is he up to the challenge? Genre: Fantasy flash fiction Time to read: 2 minutes.

Image credit: Artur Kerkhoff on Unsplash - The knights cheered, slapping the young hero on the back and pushing drinks into his hands. Beer spilt on his shirt.

“A baptism of blood and beer!” roared one burly knight. “Nothing finer!”

Loud laughter rang through the tavern, packed with knights celebrating the young hero’s victory. He felt dizzy with the heat and intensity of the attention—this was worse than slaying the dragon. That had been a terrifying trial, yes, but ultimately a matter of training and instinct.

When he met the fearsome dragon in its dingy cave, red scales undulating like a heat mirage, he stopped thinking and acted. The bones of fallen beasts and men shattered underfoot in the chaos of their fight. The young hero had slashed and dived, plunging his heavy blade through the dragon’s burning snout. The echoing roars of the creature were like the bellows of the knights in the tavern; a language he couldn’t understand. But he had done his duty and passed the trial. He had stood, his armour slick with hot, black blood, as the creature wailed mournfully, its last breaths escaping in pitiful billows of steam.

The hero looked up across the tavern, as though he could replace the image of the dying dragon with something alive. His gaze met with an older woman sitting alone in the far corner. Her keen eyes appraised him. From her sour expression, she did not approve.

Mal flipped the open sign to closed and let out a small sigh as she stretched. “Alright, thank you, Violet, that was a good day.” Since they had first come to Lethe, almost two years ago, they had come a long way. Now they even had employees, which had seemed like a huge step at first. She looked at the younger girl with a small smile. “Hey, will you sit with me for a minute? Nothing bad, I just.. I just want to make sure you’re happy here. We’d really hate to lose you.” She slowly moved to an empty table and sat down. There was still cleaning to do, but she figured she could take care of it and let Violet go home if she needed to. “You’re a great employee and you’re really nice to have around too.”

Life had always been a nightmare for Violet Liddell. Born the younger twin to a volatile couple that were verging on toxic behavior, Violet struggled at a young age when it came to the negative energy in her home. It was as if some part buried deep inside knew something bad was destined to happen. After the mysterious murder of the twins mother, it was clear an avalanche of pain was about to hit. Their home life after their mother died was plagued with neglect and abuse from their father who spiraled after his wife’s demise. To protect themselves, the twins gravitated towards each other and a strong and at times strange twin bond began to take shape. It grew to the point where they believed they could feel each others pain and distress. All the strange twin cliches seemed to be real with the pair of witches whose powers also seemed to connect in some way. Where one ended the other began and in many ways it was them against the world. It was a harsh fact that turned out to be more true than they realized.

It had turned out their mothers death was no accident and someone old and powerful was after her due to her powers. Now they were after the twins once they had grown up end matured. The typically shy and reserved Violet, started to appear erratic and frantic due to the stress of knowing someone was physically haunting her and preparing to kill her and Mike. They were constantly taunted to the point where it appeared like Violet had gone insane to the outside world. No one believed them in their home town that someone was on a path to kill them. Their own father supported the lie claiming his sweet and quiet Violet had a few too many screws loose after their mom had died to take the heat of his own misbehavior. She was seen a pariah and soon her typically timid nature was prone to bouts of paranoia and stress. She could hardly go through a single night of sleep without waking up in a cold sweat from a nightmare. All she wanted was a normal existence but by the first time they were attacked it was clear Violet was not meant to have a night without fear. They had managed to hold their own once, but by the second attack the twins only barely escaped with their lives and needed to find a place to recover; and hopefully a way to lose the scent that was clear was making them prey.

ACCEPTED!! welcome to salem VIOLET, DELPHINE, RAMSEY and RACH. hey violet! i’m so sorry to hear about your loss. i can’t even begin to imagine how you must be feeling. i truly hope salem helps you. delphine, you know what they say about repeating history right? ramsey, ramsey, ramsey... i hope you know what you’re doing over there, something tells me things are about to get real interesting for you. but before we can continue, go ahead and make sure you follow all of the tags on our nav page, and send in that beautiful, beautiful blog of yours. see you soon !!

Time: 9:25PM

Now a little more than what she would normally constitute a night as ‘tipsy,’ Ivy Sloane went for a walk outside to sober up, away from the chaos indoors, thumping music, and looming eyes from those she did--and didn’t--know. She could’ve sworn she was walking straight, but on her way towards the door she walked diagonally right into a young woman’s boobs. That was the thing about being short.. oh wait, they were about the same height. Oh, Ivy’s eyes were focused downward. That made sense. She raised her head and smiled up at the girl. She was cute, a little shocked, and though her eyes seemed kind there was something behind them that promised a little bit of danger to come. Perhaps she was disturbed.

Eh, why the hell not. 

Ivy smiled lacklusteredly, unable to take her eyes off the young woman. She almost looked familiar, but was unable to figure it out, so she quickly shook her head and opened her mouth. “I’m Ivy and I’m sick of this crowd. I was born here which means I should know everyone in Lethe, no? But I don’t know you,” she pointed her finger at the young blonde, almost tantalizingly. “Wanna go on an adventure?” 

Of course, Ivy in a sober state would never walk up to strangers. Delilah, maybe, but Ivy kept her guard up. Ivy was the good daughter. Ivy was the responsible ‘motherly’ figure, keeping her siblings safe and fed and watched them do their homework. But the kids were at home, Spencer was god-knows-where, and Ivy wanted a little time for fun. What harm could come from two young women in Lethe?