Wednesday: I may have had... briefly, mind you... stirrings.
Pugsley: Stirrings?
Wednesday: Stirrings.
Pugsley: What, like feelings, you mean?
Wednesday: No, no, no, no, not quite all the way to feelings. More like... All right feelings, damn you.

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@wednesdayfaddams
Wednesday: I may have had... briefly, mind you... stirrings.
Pugsley: Stirrings?
Wednesday: Stirrings.
Pugsley: What, like feelings, you mean?
Wednesday: No, no, no, no, not quite all the way to feelings. More like... All right feelings, damn you.

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Pugsley: Father, we did something very bad!
Gomez: Did you wreck the car?
Wednesday: No.
Gomez: Did you raise the dead?
Pugsley: Yes.
Gomez: But the car's okay?
Wednesday and Pugsley: Uh-huh.
Gomez: All right, then.
Black and Red
wednesdayfaddams:
Wednesdayâs knife lowered slightly in disappointment when her teacher spotted her. She was too exposed. She knew her error without being told.Â
Shadows. We live in the shadows. Blend with the light.
When her mentor put her finger to her lips, she felt a sudden shift in their training. Noise had not been her downfall, not this time. Perhaps she was tired of this training and needed another way to teach her.
Very well.
She followed her mentor down the passageway, careful to stay silent as she moved. When she saw her start to climb, she understood. She needed this practice as well because there were sure to be times it would be needed to find and eliminate a target.
She sheathed her knife and followed after the red woman.Â
Natasha skimmed lightly across the rooftop, her eyes roving as she sought out the best path. She kept a small fraction of focus behind her to listen to Wednesdayâs muffled sounds of pursuit. The girl seemed to be coping well with the abrupt change in plan.
Worry snarled another fraction of her focus, and the woman let her thoughts wander to possibilities. To tell the girl? But she would be frightened, and fear can lead to mistakes and regret. To keep the secret? She would begin to wonder, to question, perhaps to distrust. Trust is an important thing to keep, but is not the lesson to trust no one?
She would wait, Natasha decided. Wednesday must be told, for her own safety, but now was not the time. First, they must disappear. She increased her pace as she neared the edge of the roof and, at the last possible moment, leapt across the empty space to land on the housetop opposite. Her knees bent, she tumbled forward, and rolled neatly back to her feet in the shadow of a pergola. She took a breath and faded back against the wall to watch her studentâs advent.
The girl followed the woman as she seemed to flow through her surroundings. She was not sure where they were going, but that was not a question that she needed answered at the moment. Instead, she followed obediently, learning all she could from this new training.
The girl watched the woman as she disappeared into the last patch of shadows. She didnât slow her pace as she attempted the same jump. Though her landing was not as neat, she was able to pull herself up on the the housetop and fall into the shadows beside her teacher. She said nothing and worked to control her breathing as she waited for the woman to correct her.
Me trying to be niceâŚ

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Black and Red
thespidertakeshold:
She dies, or we both die.
Natasha took another step back, her eyes lowered as she listened for any sign of movement from the other side of the door. Â âArranging itâ meant elaborate, if Wednesdayâs family was to be deceived, it would require a noisy, visible death, enough mutilation to make a simple assassination look like -
Her stomach turned and her jaw clenched.
No. Â No, not to one of hers. Â Death was easy enough, all men must, but in return for no crime, performed for no price, to save the face of the Faceless. Â No.
Her gaze flicked upwards and she locked eyes with the girl.  Well done, flickered through the back of her mind, a moment of distraction and complete silence.  Very well done.
She held the look only for a moment, a split second decision suddenly concrete in her mind. Â Her finger rose to her lips, indicating complete silence, and she drifted away from the wall, turned, and ran.
Reaching the end of the passageway took only seconds, she would follow, she must, onto the overlook and steady a hop to the rail, straighten and reach for the carvings below the cornice, find a foothold, pull.  The girlâs climbing skills needed practice, anywayâŚ
Wednesdayâs knife lowered slightly in disappointment when her teacher spotted her. She was too exposed. She knew her error without being told.Â
Shadows. We live in the shadows. Blend with the light.
When her mentor put her finger to her lips, she felt a sudden shift in their training. Noise had not been her downfall, not this time. Perhaps she was tired of this training and needed another way to teach her.
Very well.
She followed her mentor down the passageway, careful to stay silent as she moved. When she saw her start to climb, she understood. She needed this practice as well because there were sure to be times it would be needed to find and eliminate a target.
She sheathed her knife and followed after the red woman.Â
Black and Red
It was almost uncanny, the way the girl took to it. Â Anyone else might have been disturbed, but Natasha understood. Â She permitted a faint smile as she climbed the stairs, the sound of her movement just a whisper against stone.
At the top, she stepped through the passage and out onto the walkway encircling the courtyard. Â There was no visible sign of Wednesday, and Natasha kept moving. Â The walkway would be expected - there were two rooms opening off the passage above the stairs, both essentially dead ends. Â Another passage lay ahead, dim in the shade, and ending in the railed overlook on the outside corner of the building. Â Two doors opened from it, two more dead ends. Â Beyond the passage, the walkway made the sharp right turn towards the tower in the center. Â More doors.
Natasha chose, and turned down the passage. Â Over the railing and up the ornate carvings to the roof would be simple enough, and test the girlâs climbing skills. Â Hovering in the shadows along the wall, she moved silently, listening. Â Her ears caught voices and she paused. Â The door on the left. Â Business conducted behind closed doors was not unusual, but - she cast half a glance over her shoulder. Â Neither sight nor sound of Wednesday. Â Better not to have your back to an empty hall, so she stepped past the door and turned, her back to the wall and her ear close to the joint of the hinge. Â A shadow of a frown crossed her face. Â She knew that voice.
âFor her to stay will be trouble. Â They will be persistent, and not silent, and much attention will be drawn.â
âOur purpose is no secret, we are well-known.â
âWe are Faceless for a reason. Â She cannot stay, and she has been here too long to return. Â She must be killed.â
âKilling the daughter may not silence the parents.â
âIt is a long and dangerous journey. Â Accidents and raids are common, they can make no complaint. Â The Red Woman will arrange it.â
Natasha grew cold. Â To kill the girl - but to not kill the girl likely meant death for them both. Â Her lips pressed together and her gaze rose to the walkway as she took a step back from the door.
Wednesday did her best to watch the direction her mentor was taking and to follow it closely. When she believed her mentor would stop, she tried to go around to a different passage way so that she could surprise her.Â
When she felt as though she was getting close, she paused to remember all of her teachings. Soft steps. Blend with the light. Quiet breathing. She started to approach where she thought Natasha would be again, her knife at the ready.Â
Before she could get there, she saw Natasha take a step back from a door. She froze, not wanting her motion to draw the attention of her teacher. She hoped she hadnât been seen already. She paused, waiting to see what her teacher would do and where she would go now. She was ready to follow her and win their game this time.
Black and Red
starter  |  @wednesdayfaddams
The sun beat down and the red-haired woman closed her eyes.  She basked for a moment, enjoying the heat, and listening.  Her ears caught just a whisper of leather against stone.  There.  Good. And then⌠ Oh, gods.
Natasha spun, delivering a sharp slap to the top of the girlâs head. Â âKeep your defenses up, you must be prepared. Â I couldâve cut your throat by now. Â Your footwork is good, much softer, but if youâre going to assassinate me, try not to breathe like a sow in heat.â Â She almost smiled, and waved a hand. Â âGo. Â Again.â
She turned away, fading into the shadows against the wall of the courtyard. Â Footsteps passed on the walkway overhead, and Natasha slipped through the doorway to the stairs.
Wednesday tried to keep all of the teachings in mind as she neared Natasha, knife in hand. She had no plan to kill her instructor, but nothing proved that you could put a knife to someoneâs neck without them noticing you first like putting a knife to their neck without them noticing you first.Â
When her instructor moved in a scarlet blur, she knew sheâd failed. The slap on top of her head confirmed this. She gave a controlled sigh and lowered the knife. For her, it was almost an emotional outburst. She quickly composed herself and considered how to execute the corrections she would need. She watched her instructor dissolve into shadows once again.Â
This time. She would get her this time.
She took a moment to focus her breathing so that it wasnât so heavy before she started to look for her instructor once again.
Swamped (closed)
startlingmetamorphosis:
Bruce wasnât sure what to make of the little girl. Most children were more animated, but she didnât seem to be scared and he didnât see any of the other tell tale signs of abuse he knew too well. Her response to his question only answered exactly what he asked and didnât offer further information which he found interesting.
He was taken aback by her question and the phrasing was odd. âI didnât come here to cause trouble,â he said trying to be reassuring. âOr to steal anything. I just, um, I keep on the road and there was a problem. I was running away from it and happened to find myself here.â It was the truth for the most part. He did leave out the bit where he was big and green for most of that running. That only caused problems and heâd really like to get some clothes if he could before having to move again.
Wednesday looked at Bruce for a long moment and then continued. âOf course not,â she stated as if it were obvious. âYou would not have changed back if that had been your intent.â She wasnât sure why he thought she was concerned about such things. He was a terrible thief to let her see both sides of him and hear him so clearly. If he was a thief, he would know of her family. He would also know that if he harmed her, her father would stop at nothing to bury him in pieces all around the estate. âBesides, most thieves would know where they are before trying to rob it.â
She walked deeper into the woods until she found the garden. There, she picked only the best and largest false morels, leaving the smaller ones to grow and produce more spores. She gently put them in her bag, careful not to damage them.

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Swamped (closed)
startlingmetamorphosis:
Bruce thought the child was a little odd. Her affect was flat and calm which wasnât usually how people reacted to suddenly seeing a half-naked stranger on their property. Obviously she hadnât seen the Other Guy or her reaction most likely would have been very different.
âIâll follow you,â he said getting up. His progress would probably be a little slow at first and he wouldnât be much help having to use one hand to hold his pants up. If he got moving he hoped that it would get his brain in gear. âDo you gather mushrooms often?â he asked. âAt night.â Even though it was on the grounds of an estate there were probably snakes or other things to worry about. Not to mention the fact that he might not have been the only person that has gotten on the grounds before.
Wednesday nodded and waited patiently for the man to gather up his pants. When he started to move, she turned and made her way towards the garden. She walked slowly, feeling no need to rush either of them.
âNo,â she answered Bruce. âOnce a month is all,â she looked up at the bright, full moon and then to Bruce. He clearly wasnât some kind of lycanthrope. Because she had answered his question, she felt it was her turn to ask one.Â
âDo you know why you came here?â she asked. One of her cousins was a werewolf and she knew that his memory during a transformation was rather limited. She wondered if this man had the same memory loss.
Swamped (closed)
@startlingmetamorphosis
Wednesday had finished her homework so Grandmama had sent her to gather mushrooms from the garden by the swamp. She didnât mind the walk. It was cold and damp and the ground started to seep as she stepped. It was a dreary night for tending the garden.
She saw the man when she rounded a corner and she stopped and stared at his back. He was tall, taller than Lurch and green. She considered him while he seemed to be preoccupied in finding a comfortable place to lay down and relax.Â
She continued to watch him as he lay on the ground. She was unsure if she should approach or not until the most interesting thing that had happened to her all month happened. He started to shrink. She walked towards him at this point, wondering what he would become and was slightly disappointed when he stopped shrinking and looked like a normal man. Two arms, two legs, a head. She sighed. He wasnât even green anymore.Â
The basket in her arms reminded her of her errand, but she didnât want to be rude in not inviting a guest into the house. She decided to wait until he noticed her. Perhaps he wouldnât mind waiting for a moment.
Bruce always did his best to avoid incidents. The problem was he lived as a drifter and generally that wasnât a recipe for a stress free life. Maybe he would have had it easier if he didnât look like a skinny weak nerd that would just roll over if someone said âbooâ too loud. It wasnât his fault that heâd chosen the wrong place to try to take a nap. Â Heâd been mugged before and usually handing over the few buck he had was enough, but these guys decided they wanted to beat him up. Â That was their second mistake.
When Bruce came back to himself he saw that he was in a swamp of some kind. Â He wondered how far the Hulk ran to find a quiet, safe place. Â It took a few minutes for the disorientation to fade. Â His mind felt jagged like his brain had been put through a blender. Â There were vague flashes of memory though they were mostly too garbled by emotions for him to really get anything out of. Â He hoped the lack of blood on his hands and clothes meant the men that attacked him survived. Â It might seem like an odd thought, but it was just how he was.
He rubbed his face and started to get up when he saw something out of the corner of his eye. Â When he turned his head to look he saw a young woman in the swamp. Â âUm, hello,â he said gripping the waist of his pants very tightly. Â âCan you tell me where I am?â
Wednesday watched him as he studied his surroundings. She didn't back away as he turned and face her. She watched him gather his pants around him. Through all of it, her face remained impassive and her dark eyes continued to watch him calmly.
"You are on my family's estate," she told him, her voice the same, passive calm as her face. "I have to gather mushrooms, but I can lead you to the house afterwards," she told him.
Always be kind to strangers. You many never know when you look upon the face of an enemy.
"You can stay here and I can return afterwards or you can follow me. It is up to you," she told him before she started to more towards the mushroom garden.
Swamped (closed)
@startlingmetamorphosis
Wednesday had finished her homework so Grandmama had sent her to gather mushrooms from the garden by the swamp. She didnât mind the walk. It was cold and damp and the ground started to seep as she stepped. It was a dreary night for tending the garden.
She saw the man when she rounded a corner and she stopped and stared at his back. He was tall, taller than Lurch and green. She considered him while he seemed to be preoccupied in finding a comfortable place to lay down and relax.Â
She continued to watch him as he lay on the ground. She was unsure if she should approach or not until the most interesting thing that had happened to her all month happened. He started to shrink. She walked towards him at this point, wondering what he would become and was slightly disappointed when he stopped shrinking and looked like a normal man. Two arms, two legs, a head. She sighed. He wasnât even green anymore.Â
The basket in her arms reminded her of her errand, but she didnât want to be rude in not inviting a guest into the house. She decided to wait until he noticed her. Perhaps he wouldnât mind waiting for a moment.