book witches.
they know the myths, the curling legends. and so when odd things start to happen (when one makes the table shake its contents off and another looks down to see her hands stained with light) they know what they’re dealing with. and what’s more, they know where the answers lie.
+++nocturnal witches.
they dwell between unwatched clock hands, in the darkest creases of time, where neither moon nor sun are visible. (it is called the witching hour for a reason.)
and yet, there are stars.
garden witches
they have their plots, their private wildernesses. they grow herbs, vines, unnamed in the usual gardening books, in beds which remain fertile and flowering in any given season. the soil is weeded with chants and the pots carved with runes, ancient but renewing. when harvest time comes, the garden returns the magic they gave to it, months before.
boarding school witches
at night, after the lights in the school have all been turned off, they leave dorms, find empty classrooms in which to convene. set up charms on desks and mutter incantations over bunsen burners. conflicts are settled with curses. they are privileged; uncaring. they can set the world aflame and (within crumbling brick walls, a crumbling institution) be fine.
healing witches
at the tips of their fingers burns something fresh and renewing. there’s an energy, which repels the shading and smudging on the skin of others. they can close gapes and trap ailments and stop the aching of the bones which had almost become part of you. you feel lighter. (they look tired, but they smile).
weather witches
they can, if they so choose, call down the sky. of course, all storms are localised, all winds are limited, but they know words which part the clouds, encourage loose streams of sunlight to unfurl and kiss the ground, and that’s enough.
christmas witches
at this time, magic is just that little bit closer. this may be due to the year’s ending, that weakening of walls during the change over. or perhaps it is the welcoming of nature into the home, the idolisation of the pine: it is certainly easy to wind charms into wreaths.
but it could merely be the lose belief, wrapped it paper and topped in a bow, but stronger now than ever.
royal witches
the throne is cold and dull and lonely. but deep in the castle, down stone halls cold and long, there are rooms with books and bottles and secrets. they have far more allure.
righteous witches
the magic they wield is good, pure, light. the books they recite from are bound in white and crystallised. they are not. they reach into the core of the daytime, and they pull out night.
artwitches
it’s more than just hiding curses and sigils in between layers of paint (although they do that too). sometimes people think they see something moving within the frame, just out of the corner of their eye. they may not be mistaken.
forest witches
they dwell only in the shadows lain down by trees, under the cover of rain, within the arching boughs. in their own chosen glens, now ringed by mushrooms, they construct their cottages (made not of gingerbread, but willow and oak). they frequent the forest’s very core, that sacred ground, where only darkness is constant, and it is there that they call their home.
warrior witches
their armor is not merely metal; it is magic too. protection and healing is woven into it. they were not always thus, they know peace too, but upon the call to arms they raised their swords (enchanted, of course).
they are fighting to defend.
young witches
they are new to an old tradition, tracing again over the path drawn by their sisters, mothers, grandmothers. they pour over aging manuscripts in poster covered bedrooms, weave good luck charms into friendship bracelets. they learn, they grow.
suburban witches
it started as merely a combatant for boredom, but it’s more now. it threatens to tear down the your whitewashed bedroom walls, overturn the perfect front lawns of each house you walk by. you’re not sure this is supposed to happen. you’re not sure if you can stop it.
vengeful witches
they were wronged. they know who did it; they know how. and they must make the punishment fit the crime. slowly, they plan. they learn. they will use any method necessary.
girl gang witches
they stud baseball bats with cursed nails, pour homemade healing potions over bruising knuckles. they clench fists around charms and mutter spells through swollen lips. the gang is their coven and magic merely an aid to violence.
From
here.
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17.03.2015 в 08:19Только картинка с christmas whitches уехала вниз.-
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17.03.2015 в 10:29