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Wither and Bloom

@the-necroprancer

Octavia//20//Satyr//She/Her WARNING: This blog will contain insects. This blog is also haunted by the human Artificer Rain (tagged #Rain Posting)

Name: Octavia 

Species: Satyr Planeswalker

Gender and pronouns: Transfem She/Her

Color identity: GB

Height: 6'0"

Weight: ~170lbs

Age: 20yrs (AR)

Plane(s) of residence: Shiv, Dominaria (current), Arcavios, Innistrad

Plane of origin: Theros

Affiliations: Witherbloom College, Strixhaven (former student)

Titles/ranks/positions: N/A

Allied organizations: N/A

Companions/associates: Rain (ally, crush, source of immense frustration), Biilzie (Friend/it's complicated)

Likes: Insects (especially bees!), Mushrooms, Moss, zombies, dancing, hunting

Dislikes: Large groups or crowds, mirrors, swimming

Bio: Born on Theros, Octavia was often the black sheep(pun intended) of her community, due to her lack of interest in the hedonism and revels of most Satyrs. She often found herself alone in the woods, exploring, hunting, or gathering herbs to study. 

She sparked at 15, when she was attacked while out in the woods by a group of Nylea's followers, who had chosen to interpret their God's ire for Xenagos and his ascension as a call to violence against Satyr kind and their revels. 

Grievously injured, she Planeswalked to Innistrad, finding herself in the care of an elderly witch. There, she learned the basics of necromancy, studying the old shamanistic ways which predated Ghoulcalling and Stitching. Only months into her stay on Innistrad, her mentor was caught up in the Travails, and killed by the Flight of Moonsilver as a heretic. 

Octavia planeswalked again to escape, eventually finding herself on Arcavios. Learning of Strixhaven, she took the opportunity to join Witherbloom college to continue her studies in necromancy and botany. She stayed there until the Phyrexian Invasion, when she, a long with other students, worked to repel the assault.

After the invasion, Octavia once again found herself unsettled, feeling unsafe in the place she had called her home for 3 years. Rather than stay and assist with the rebuilding efforts, she elected to travel the realms, trying to find someplace she could feel at home. Eventually, she ended up in Shiv on Dominaria, where she met the artificer Rain. Intrigued by him and his project, she elected to stay in the area for the time being, to assist him, and travel with him to find the parts he needs to repair the ship.

Cards: Coming soon

Rain slides the communicator away, grumbling as he puts the ruined welder onto his desk. It would have to be scrapped. Completely rehoused, if there were still any working components in it. He went to the engine room, pulling one of the batteries from the generator, and replacing it with an empty one, carrying the battery back. He hooked up a second welder to the battery and continued his work.

It'd been years since he needed to do that. He had managed to power smaller, hand held tools without a battery since he was 16. He wondered why he was having surges now. He knew his magic, his electricity was based on his emotions. If he got angry, he sparked and had a constant charge going through his body, but he wasn't angry, or stressed. Right now he just felt… nothing?

Maybe he should examine that more. Instead he continues welding the vent he had noticed damage in. The damn pigeon-rats had chewed through another section of wiring, and he had to burn out part of the vents to get to it. He shouldn't be doing this. His arms ached, and his back screamed for relief.

He wondered where Octavia was. She was visiting Chortos but that was hours ago, surely he would be asleep by now? He pushed the thought away. She’s fine. It's not his place to worry anymore, anyway. They had both made their decisions.

A few sparks crackled off his hair.

Rain looked at the patch job he did, examining the edges where the damage ended, and sighed with satisfaction at the inability to tell where the damage had occurred. No one would see this, except maybe 3-V, but that didn't mean he wanted to do shoddy work. He stepped down, letting his muscles relax.

He picks up his communicator and flips to Octavia’s contact. His fingers hover over the buttons to message her… before he puts it down with a sigh. It's not his place. He had made his decision. Now he lives with it. She was fine.

He hoped.

Part of him wished he didn't care, wished he could accept that Octavia was somewhere. Or wished he could lie to himself better. Convince himself she was out partying, or having fun with friends. Wished he hadn't noticed her exhaustion. He pushes those thoughts from his mind as well.

A few more sparks.

For the hundredth time that day, he told himself, again. It wasn't his place. He'd made his choice, and she'd made hers. They were friends, and barely at that point. Then he shoved the thoughts away, and began planning tomorrow.

More sparks.

Tomorrow was Leta’s funeral. Tomorrow he needed to be on his best behavior. Koda needed support, and Rain didn't know if he trusted anyone else who would be there to give it. He'd have to push more of his anger down.

This was his place, now. Because of the decisions he'd made.

A single spark fell, as the dull, empty feeling washed over him again.

Tomorrow was a new day.

He hoped it would bring new problems, not more of the same, but he doubted it.

Written by @average-ravnican, who plays Rain

It had been an odd day for Octavia. She had gone to visit her brother... She thinks. She remembered listening to him at the table. That was probably real, she remembered the feeling of the pencils in her hand and she doodles with him.

But she also remembered feeling like there were ants inside of her hands, so it was hard to tell.

She closed her eye for just a moment, and it was so dark when she woke up. How long had she managed to sleep? No one came rushing to help, so she must not have woken up screaming this time. She was so tired. The nightmares wouldn't let her sleep.

She dropped off Chortos' plushie in his room. He had been sleeping, fitfully, but he calmed down once she had carefully tucked the plush under his arm. She was jealous. And she knew it was irrational. She wanted to rest like that. To feel safe. She was so tired.

It took her a while to get down the stairs. Her balance was off, but the way the stairs swam and bent didn't help. She stopped into the kitchen for a snack on her way out. She saw Froggy in the cupboard when she opened it for snacks, but she'd been seeing a lot of things that weren't there lately, so she ignored her.

She needed to get back to the Silverwing.

Rain was...

There.

Not really waiting for her. No one was waiting for her. She had all the time in the world to...

Do something.

FRG-NUL-47, who may or may not have actually been there, was staring at her. She must have fallen asleep for a few seconds. Again. She smiled at the vision and closed the door. She had spent enough time intruding upon Lethaltooth and Silentsign's hospitality. She was mad no one had woken her up. She had work to go to. She needed to keep busy. She was so tired.

She had no more tears to cry about it, she had already cried the last time she woke up from a nightmare and it took a while for her to stop. Piloting training was on pause after she (allegedly) fell asleep at the wheel. Rain was still upset about that one. She could see his shadow hovering outside of her door sometimes when she was failing to sleep. Her bed felt so cold and empty and even after everything, unsafe. She may be co-owner, but what use was it if she couldn't get though a conversation without falling asleep for a few seconds at any slight lull in conversation? She was so tired. She was so tired. She was so—

On Innistrad. Not the ship.

This was not where she had meant to planeswalk.

Did she fall asleep while planeswalking...? The burned out wreckage of her mentor's home was right where she had left it and so were the grave markers and the grass had begun to regrow over the churned ritual circle from when she had trained with her friends and the leylines hummed deep in the earth in a way she always found comforting.

She needed to be closer. Laying in the churned earth as she had come to be was not enough. The basement. There was a basement. That's when she kept the last of her mentor's things. It had survived the fire, and the angel, and the things and the monsters.

Sanctuary.

She was so tired.

Maybe.. maybe it would be a place to rest. Quiet as the grave, like they always say! And she needed to get inside. The shadows outside of the clearing were beginning to roil and writhe in a way that could be very real on Innistrad and not just her fried brain or eye failing her and She was so tired.

The stone of the cellar floor hummed with power, enough she could feel in crawling across her skin. Or maybe that was the ants again. She floor was nice and cold, even if it was hard. She dragged whatever cloth or coverings she could find, creating a nest. But she left enough space that her hand could touch the ground. The leylines still pulsed soothingly and she wanted to feel them. The cellar door was firmly bolted, and she was finally alone. She had started crying. Probably when the tiles of the floor began to wave and swirl. She was thankful for the snack that FRG had given her. At least, she's pretty sure that's what happened. It was hard to tell when She was so tired. She was so tired. She was so tired she was so tired so tired so tired so

COLD! She woke up shivering. But not screaming. And the walls weren't melting this time. There was daylight streaming through the cracks of the cellar doors. The leylines still hummed soothingly below the stone below her freezing hand. She would need to get back to the Silverwing soon, if she hadn't returned last night. Rain... Might be worried. But probably not. He could wait for a few more minutes anyways.

Octavia took a few minutes to enjoy it, the quiet. The feeling of having rested.

Even if it was only likely for a couple hours.

And she was still kind of tired.

Home and Away

Just another day in New Capenna. The snow gently sitting on the ground. Cars going by on their way to work. Streetlights indicating when to walk, and people ignoring them as usual. Gesserith and Shadowstep were still at home, both enjoying their own activities after a particularly competitive board game.

Shadowstep whistled to get his attention. Hey. We need to talk.

Gesserith brought his recliner down. "Hm? What's up? I've already got lunch in the oven."

It's not that, she signed. We need to talk about you being gone so much.

"I'm not out that much. I'm home for dinner. I'm not exactly sure what you mean."

She sighed a little. Yeah, you kind of are. You keep disappearing at the drop of a hat and coming back all messed up, and then you end up at the orphanage or some other medical wing. Kami forbid you're gone for days and have to call Grandma or Doris. It's hard to keep up with it. It makes me feel alone. Her face was riddled with some sort of deeper pain.

Gesserith thought for a moment, hand grasping his face for some form of comfort. "I... Shadowstep... it's... it's complicated." He looked away. "No, no it's not. You're right. It's just that it's only been me for so long. I haven't had to worry about this."

Well you do now, she interrupted, and you need to change it. Do something different, please.

He played with his hands as he came up with a proper response. "Alright. I'm going to be honest, I can't just stop. I have a spark, and that means I have a responsibility to be there when people need it. If my friends need my help, I can't just abandon them."

She signed back with a slight fury. You can't just abandon me like this. I am your daughter. You wanted this, I wanted this! I wanted a proper home. But it's so hard to make it feel like home when the best part keeps disappearing on me. A tear ran down her cheek.

He stifled some kind of noise. "Shadowstep, I... I'm so sorry. I never meant for any of this. I love you so much, I don't want you to be like this. Is there any way I can help? Please, just tell me, I don't want to lose you."

She looked at him and slowly signed back, Please, just tell me what you're doing. When you're leaving, when you're coming back, where you're going, if you get hurt or anything like that. Please, just let me know. I worry about you.

He nodded. "Sure. Of course. Will do. I will let you know if I ever leave the plane and everything about it. Is that okay?"

It's perfect. Thank you, Dad. Please stay safe.

"I will do my best. I promise. I'll be better. I'll do better. For you." He got up from his chair, and the two hugged for a short time before he went to go prepare lunch.

She was in the closet again. 

She found herself there many nights, closing her eyes and waking up in the cold, dark closet, alone with her face pressed against the rotting wall paper skin of Duskmourn. Sometimes she was alone, sometimes she wasn't. Tonight, Telete was there. The phantom of her mother's smiling, serene face leered at her, knife still through her throat and blood still on her mouth.

Octavia hated how happy she looked. 

Like she didn't have a care in the world. 

Like she had truly gotten everything she wanted. 

Like it didn't matter that some part of Octavia was happy she was dead. 

Like Octavia wouldn't wake up from this dream and wash her hands raw for the hundredth time, hoping to stop feeling the hilt of the knife and the warmth of the blood.

"You were so eager to take a life! You broke the tip of my knife off in my altar. I'm so proud of you, Octavia." Telete's mouth moved out of sync, fuzzy as her brain tried to string together enough memories to even guess what Telete would look like saying those words. But she still looked as happy as she had when she had died. The smile she wore when she was playing nice and being subtle in her cruelty. 

"You wedged the tip into the stone. You know, when you stabbed me." The wallpaper against her face felt wet.

 "No one actually believes it was an accident. They all know how much you claimed to hate me." It was blood again. She could feel it running down the wall, mixing with the coating of oil on the floor.

"And now you've proved it to them! And you've proved to me how much you love me. You brought me home, to Nyx, to find our god." It was already beginning to slowly fill the doorless room. She didn't bother trying to stand. She remained seated as it began to rise past her hips.

"He's not gone. And neither am I."

Octavia knew that was truth. Telete would never be gone. Was it grief, that kept her here? Or anger? Was it a bitterness that her own cruelty hadn't been enough to hurt her mother in her last moments? 

Bitterness that Telete had died happy, after failing to kill two of her children and being sacrificed on her own altar?

Was it the look on Nona's face from the shadowed edge of the clearing as she was pulled away by Vasro? The horror and haunting grief and regret on her younger sister's face, which she had hoped mirrored her own? (It didn't. She knew it didn't. She hadn't felt much of anything for a while afterwards, and her face reflected it.)

As the blood reached her neck, she wondered idly who would be there to not pull her out this time. Rain, looking down in disgust as she drowned in a crimson tide? Biilzie, grinning, watching her flounder in the disaster she had created?

... It was Chortos again. The heart broken and haunted look on his face as he watched her drown again in their mother's blood. He turned away before she slipped under every time, lead away by someone she couldn't see. It always hurt the most when she woke up choking after that.

She scrubbed her hands raw with cold water in the bathroom. They stung, at first, before they went numb from the temperature. She didn't bother looking in the mirror as she pulled out her concealer, an ancient bottle she still used from Lake at Strixhaven. It would cover up the bags under her eyes. 

It was only noticeable when you got close. No one would notice.

Dividers by @jasper-graphics

The buzz through his body is what alerted him that something had changed. The feeling going up through his spine, a rush like he had felt only while using the Omen-Generator. He staggered over to his mirror, the cracked glass revealed him. A misshapen, hunched thing. The Generator sticking out of his back, tendrils of nectotized flesh going towards his eyes. His bright purple eyes. He staggered away, as if he has been struck.

Stop resisting, Rain. What do you fight for? It's all gone.

He shook his head. It wasn't, he knew it wasn't. Octavia had won, she had beaten this thing. He opened his door, maybe if he could find her this would be over.

He opened his door to see smoldering remains. It was obvious who it was, between the horns and the non-human legs. And the one eye.

You did this. You killed her, just like you've killed everyone who's loved you. Just give up.

No. No this couldn't be right. He hadnt hurt Octavia that bad, he knew he hadn't. He couldn't have.

"Another one, darling?" He could hear the cruel mockery of life in the voice before he turned. The metal imitation of life. As he turned, he felt her claws sink into his skin.

"You've really developed a knack for killing us. And you think the demon is bad, for killing people he doesn't know? What does that make you?" He tried to open his mouth, to say something, to make some retort, as he did she kissed him, and he could feel her tongue, or whatever this thing had instead of one, lodge down his throat. He struggled, he fought, but he couldn't pull away from the metal grip this thing had.

"You always struggle right till the end. Like a worm on a hook."

Rain snapped awake with a scream, immediately taking a gasping breath. He ran over to the mirror, still shattered. He turned to the polished metal of the walls, then, to see a reflection.

It was him. Despite it all. Despite the flecks of purple that didn't seem to fade from his eyes.

Written by @average-ravnican, who owns Rain
Dividers still by @jasper-graphics

She was in the closet again. 

She found herself there many nights, closing her eyes and waking up in the cold, dark closet, alone with her face pressed against the rotting wallpaper skin of Duskmourn. Sometimes she was alone, sometimes she wasn't. Tonight, Telete was there. The phantom of her mother's smiling, serene face leered at her, knife still through her throat and blood still on her mouth.

Octavia hated how happy she looked. 

Like she didn't have a care in the world. 

Like she had truly gotten everything she wanted. 

Like it didn't matter that some part of Octavia was happy she was dead. 

Like Octavia wouldn't wake up from this dream and wash her hands raw for the hundredth time, hoping to stop feeling the hilt of the knife and the warmth of the blood.

"You were so eager to take a life! You broke the tip of my knife off in my altar. I'm so proud of you, Octavia." Telete's mouth moved out of sync, fuzzy as her brain tried to string together enough memories to even guess what Telete would look like saying those words. But she still looked as happy as she had when she had died. The smile she wore when she was playing nice and being subtle in her cruelty. 

"You wedged the tip into the stone. You know, when you stabbed me." The wallpaper against her face felt wet.

 "No one actually believes it was an accident. They all know how much you claimed to hate me." It was blood again. She could feel it running down the wall, mixing with the coating of oil on the floor.

"And now you've proved it to them! And you've proved to me how much you love me. You brought me home, to Nyx, to find our god." It was already beginning to slowly fill the doorless room. She didn't bother trying to stand. She remained seated as it began to rise past her hips.

"He's not gone. And neither am I."

Octavia knew that was truth. Telete would never be gone. Was it grief, that kept her here? Or anger? Was it a bitterness that her own cruelty hadn't been enough to hurt her mother in her last moments? 

Bitterness that Telete had died happy, after failing to kill two of her children and being sacrificed on her own altar?

Was it the look on Nona's face from the shadowed edge of the clearing as she was pulled away by Vasro? The horror and haunting grief and regret on her younger sister's face, which she had hoped mirrored her own? (It didn't. She knew it didn't. She hadn't felt much of anything for a while afterwards, and her face reflected it.)

As the blood reached her neck, she wondered idly who would be there to not pull her out this time. Rain, looking down in disgust as she drowned in a crimson tide? Biilzie, grinning, watching her flounder in the disaster she had created?

... It was Chortos again. The heart broken and haunted look on his face as he watched her drown again in their mother's blood. He turned away before she slipped under every time, lead away by someone she couldn't see. It always hurt the most when she woke up choking after that.

She scrubbed her hands raw with cold water in the bathroom. They stung, at first, before they went numb from the temperature. She didn't bother looking in the mirror as she pulled out her concealer, an ancient bottle she still used from Lake at Strixhaven. It would cover up the bags under her eyes. 

It was only noticeable when you got close. No one would notice.

Dividers by @jasper-graphics

With a burst of smoke and sparks, I arrive on a familiar island. Small, scrubby, notable only for the state of its sands. The beach has been kicked up and melted to slag, walls of glass forming into shapes bizarrely reminiscent of some areas of the Prismari campus.

“Hi, Leta.”

My eyes are closed. My wings are folded close to my body.

“I did what you said.”

One of my hands moves to hold the dragon-claw necklace she left me, hanging heavy around my neck.

“Well. I did what you said not to do. Used you as an excuse to go on a bender. This time, I dragged Octavia down with me. You said you’d kill me. You haven’t even shown up, but I think Rain wants to, now. Octavia, too. I… fucked her up.”

I sit heavily, my hands shaking just a tiny bit.

“I’ve had friends die before. Plenty of times. Martha, Big Iron. Everyone in the Kamigawan pits died for me, even the ones I liked. Hells, I killed Mel myself! Your death shouldn’t… it shouldn’t hurt,” I lie, my head catching fire.

I sigh, squeezing myself, the flames dying down.

“Vasro won’t accept you’re dead. Neither will Roxie. But… I know a bit about souls. I know that if you made it, you would’ve fucking told one of us by now. And since you didn’t, and you almost certainly died here, or one of us would’ve found you by now, you’re still here. Or, you should be. I think. Everything’s… more complicated now.”

I let out a groan, flopping onto my back, wings spread.

“And mostly worse. But, you don’t need to worry about that anymore. Don’t need to worry about anything. Lucky bitch.”

I sigh, I clear my throat, and I stand again, dropping a handful of coins to the sand. About enough to buy a coffee.

“He says ‘ow,’ by the way. That’s… that’s the end of the joke. Feels pretty underwhelming now, doesn’t it?” I let out a strangled laugh, tears of glowing black mana hitting the sand. “Ow. Ow. FUCK!” I slam my fist into one of the raised sheets of blasted glass, then hit again until it shatters, streaked with black blood. I’m shaking.

By the time I leave, nothing of the island remains above the water.

Tentacled Days

About 15 years ago…

(Dividers by @jasper-graphics)

The autumn leaves fluttered into the gutter. A cold breeze struck the family of raccoons camping in a park bush. A familiar click echoed around the Broker as the midday sun gave way to the alley’s darkness. A voice came from behind the weapon. “Hey, you’re kinda cute.”

“If you actually thought that, you’d lower that gun.” Gesserith’s voice was dry, having already been threatened like this twice this month. “I’ve got business to attend to.”

“Oh, come on, Broker boy, play around a little! Man like you’s got no business in this territory. You know this is an Obscura neighborhood.” The cephalid agent giggled.

Gess sighed. “You know this minor threat’s just wasting both of our times. There’s no reason to shoot.” He lazily turned around. The Obscura smiled and waved, gun still held up. “I’m just going to turn back now, if that’s fine.”

She pouted. “No, it’s not fine. You wandered too far, now you face the consequences. But I really don’t want to kill you, that’s a lot of work and blood to clean up. You wanna do this the fun way? Do you even know what fun is with those contracts shoved up your ass?” She was just waving the gun around, something that irked Gesserith.

“Do I really have a choice?”

“No. Follow me, I’m feeling peckish. I know a place.” She finally sheathed her weapon as she led him out to the main road.

[A video. Octavia and I, onstage with Cannibal Voyeurism. Me and Di are absolutely nailing a duet. Even on the unicycle, Octavia is absolutely nailing the choreography.]

[An image. A rooftop soirée on Fiora, populated by the fabulously wealthy in whatever they think will let them go overlooked. A small crowd is busy fawning over mine and Octavia’s inhuman countenances.]

[A selfie. Octavia holds the camera, standing in front of one of the lava pits of Rix Maadi. I am splashing in the shallow parts. In the back, a shadowed object shaped like a tremendous, horned head can barely be made out.]

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