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alias: Jessica
age in ##: 38
story: Wizard of Oz
gif (150x150): http://orig14.deviantart.net/616a/f/2017/042/7/0/zel_profile_gif_by_mycers-das0jwj.gif
Application: http://ourheroesandvillains.jcink.net/index.php?showtopic=2375
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Joined: 10-December 16
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Last Seen: Aug 15 2017, 10:41 AM
Local Time: Aug 18 2017, 10:00 PM
181 posts (0.7 per day)
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Zelena

Oz

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Jun 26 2017, 12:35 PM
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<div class="zmbox">
<div class="zmlyr1">the life that I deserved</div>
<P>
<div style="background-color: #7da26c; padding: 2px; margin-bottom: 2px;"></div>
<div class="zmmain">
<div class="zmpb">"Mother!"<br><br>

Zelena pounded down the hallway. Portraits and sitting areas and busts of ancient kings and queens rushed past her, their familiar features blurred as she rounded corners and raced down steps. Her heart pounded in her chest like it never had before and she sucked in breath after breath as she weaved through the grown-ups, the columns of people that stood in place like a moving forest of trees. Everywhere she went, adults - all overhead, maids and butlers and noblemen and lords, all talking about the same thing. Their chatter filled the hallways, the corridors, the web of rooms. War. <br><br>

War. War. War. Its whispers, and that which followed of a broken betrothal (though whose she didn’t know) and other political matters followed her wherever she went in the estate, from the wine cellars to the towers. And she went to them all to find some peace, to try to work out what was going on. It was as if the estate was speaking in one voice. Finally, in a haze of confusion and panic, Zelena was going to the last place she wanted to go - the place she had been told never to play in, never to even go near without Mother or Daddy. Those rules had been burnt into her brain from a young age: don't go near the study, stay in the nursery and your bedroom. But she was a little girl and she wanted her mother, and that meant even those rules could be broken. <br><br>

Zelena nearly upset a pair of elderly nobles as she skidded around a corner. She missed them, but her foot caught in the hem of her long dress and she tumbled to the floor. She cried out in surprise. Already maids were going to help her up but she picked herself up, scrambling out of their grip to keep running. When she practically threw herself at the big oak doors of her mother's study, her knees were scraped, her red hair - so unusual, people kept talking about it and she wasn't sure why - she had always wondered why she didn't look like Daddy - all unkempt. "Mother!" <br><br>

Her mother was in her usual place by her desk, surrounded by advisers. They were all talking in mutters and mumbles, crouched over what looked like a map, only for silence to fall as they all turned around to stare at her. Their cold gazes made her want to shrink, to disappear forever, but she still fearlessly stepped forward, looking at only one person - her mother, the one familiar face amongst a sea of stern grown-ups. They were all in military uniform, medals shining on their chests. "Is it true?" Her voice wavered but she pressed on, swallowing hard. Her breath came in quick gasps. "We're going to war with Princess Eva's kingdom? The Northern Kingdom?" Her teeth grazed over her bottom lip. "Why? What's going on?" She gestured wildly but tiny green sparks shot from her fingertips. She cried out in surprise, wrapping her arms tightly around her chest. She had to control the magic but this time she couldn't, not when she was so scared. <br><br>

</div>


</div>
<div style="background-color: #7da26c; padding: 2px; margin-top: 2px;"></div>
<div class="zmbb">ADD.: cora mills | WORDS: 507 | NOTES:</div>
</div>
<div class="tcred"><a href="http://shine.b1.jcink.com/index.php?showuser=1892" target="_blank">♛ Ames</a></div></center>[/dohtml]
Jun 26 2017, 11:54 AM
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<img src="http://orig12.deviantart.net/3461/f/2017/072/5/8/601whynot_2_by_mycers-db2761m.png">
<div class="zmbox">
<div class="zmlyr1">or what?</div>
<div class="zmlyr2">YOU’LL SMITE ME WITH YOUR BOOK LEARNIN’? </div>
<div style="background-color: #7da26c; padding: 2px; margin-bottom: 2px;"></div>
<div class="zmmain">
<div class="zmpb">Normally, Zelena liked being isolated. It gave her space; it allowed her to think, far from watching, or indeed critical, eyes. And work, as well, for the exact same reason. It gave her the freedom and the quiet she needed for getting on with what she wanted to get on with, and at any case she didn't have to concern herself with what anyone thought of her. In the rest of Storybrooke someone's opinion could...get in the way of her plans. At her home? Less so. <br><Br>

But the same four walls could quickly become boring. And what faded walls they were. It was far from both the glassy, emerald and gold of the palace at Oz and the dirty hovel she'd grown up in but she had always felt the urge to redecorate, if she ever got round to it. But for now the interior of the farmhouse was becoming stifling - suffocating, even. So she'd gone to the park, a spell book under one arm. The sky was muggy from the past heat of the day but was now residing, at around four or five, at a comfortable temperature. If she could work out here so much the better. <br><Br>

She looked around. Hazy clouds skidded overhead, anonymous in that padded uniformity of grey. Apart from sitting on the ground all of the benches were being used here - by lovers, by work colleagues, by those strange and foreign things called friends. In other words, no opportunity for Zelena to put down her things anywhere. After all, most people weren't likely to offer a seat to the Wicked Witch...<br><Br>

Apart from one person, of course. <br><Br>

Henry. Zelena spotted him from a little way off, but she could recognise him anywhere. There he was, sitting on a bench, yet another of her sister's crowd. As her son - only adopted, mind you, only adopted - this was somewhat to be expected, but Zelena hadn't been on her parents' side nor did she expect anyone else to be (apart from the Charmings, who managed to make everything a family affair). Less goody two shoes, though, than the rest of them. A little more...understanding. Or, as Zelena liked to think of it, open minded. Yes - open minded. That worked. A little less likely to follow the straight and narrow entirely faithfully, which fitted for her purposes. <br><Br>

As she passed his bench she let her eyes suddenly land on him. She smiled. "Oh, Henry," she said, as if she hadn't scouted him out for afar for seating prospects. "It's you." Who said that family, for all its grievances, didn't have some perks? You had to use the rellies for something. Sacrifices and the odd threat, mostly, but also seating. She moved towards the empty patch of bench next to him. "Do you mind if I sit here?" <br><Br>

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</div>
<div style="background-color: #7da26c; padding: 2px; margin-top: 2px;"></div>
<div class="zmbb">ADD.: Henry Mills | WORDS: 472 | NOTES:</div>
</div>
<div class="tcred"><a href="http://shine.b1.jcink.com/index.php?showuser=1892" target="_blank">♛ Ames</a></div></center>[/dohtml]
Jun 24 2017, 02:13 PM
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<img src="http://orig05.deviantart.net/39ab/f/2017/175/c/d/xx_by_mycers-dbdw6n6.jpg">
<div class="zmbox">
<div class="zmlyr1">and you're rude!</div>
<P>
<P>
<div style="background-color: #7da26c; padding: 2px; margin-bottom: 2px;"></div>
<div class="zmmain">
<div class="zmpb">Zelena squeezed her eyes shut. <br><br>

God, she had to stop at the portal jumping. The fact she could tell she'd portal jumped without even opening her eyes was, in the dull, yet remarkably still snarky corner of her brain, mildly concerning. Why? How? When? She didn't know - right now she knew nothing, nothing but the reeling, teetering sensation of a loss of balance. She forced herself to take deep breaths, acclimatising to the portal travel. Just stay still, just stay still. Movement would hurt. Movement bad. <br><br>

She'd been talking to someone - someone with a whiny voice. High pitched, squeaky in places. Irritating. The thought just came to her without prompting. Yes - irritating, not threatening. Arguing he could do something better than she could...at least she thought it was a he. Something about...about..she lifted her hand to cradle her forehead, to try to still the spinning sensation that was now becoming a bad habit. <br><br>

Instead of a hand, though, she suddenly something that felt like a paw over her face. With a sharp cry of surprise she instinctively darted away, looking wide eyed out towards the darkness. It was night, she suddenly realised. She could barely see what was a few feet away from her, let alone anything else; it was all swallowed up in a patchy, inky void. But there was nothing there - nothing but a shriek of objection from every muscle in her body, and some places she never knew could hurt. The sharp movement was shredding on her legs and arms. She winced, curling in towards herself in a spasm of aching pain. <br><br>

And then she looked down. <br><br>

For a moment she froze. She was looking at her own hand - or the place she had always expected her hand to be. But there was now a paw, small and red-furred with little claws. She stared. No no no. This wasn't what she thought it was. Swallowing, the witch reached out with her arm experimentally. The paw, which seemed to be attached to her, moved exactly the way her arm did in the gloom of the darkness. She moved her hand up to her mouth in shock - but of course it wasn't a hand at all. Red paws, and a tongue edging across sharp canines...and a bushy tail, curled protectively around her. <br><br>

I'm a fox? <br><br>

"What the - " The curse went unsaid as she looked down at herself properly, saw fur where there should have been the neckline of a dress, of skin. What realm was this? Where the hell was she? Questions spun in her mind but one more important than all the others, right at the forefront of her brain. She raised a paw experimentally - until she gave her surroundings a second look. <br><br>

Her eyes skimmed across to what looked like a very unwell llama. Or an alpaca. Or something vaguely like a sheep stretched out at both ends. It had its eyes closed and was utterly still. It had been behind Zelena, hidden from view for a moment or so until her eyes had gotten used to the dark. Even now she could barely see. It was some sort of herbivore, something that right now she didn't know the name of in her confused state. Did she look like an animal encyclopaedia? It wasn't a flattering description and the fact it looked dead didn't help things.<br><br>

Wait. Hang on. Suddenly a thought flashed white-hot through her mind. Had she killed something? Had she killed it, somehow? There was no 'somehow' about it. She had the teeth to do it, was more powerful physically with her canines than she was in her own body. It wouldn't be her first murder, either. But why couldn't she remember? Surely she would remember sinking her teeth into that? <br><br>

She rushed over - or tried to. Zelena's natural inclination was to scramble over, but with four paws it was difficult, like learning to walk all over again. Eventually she stumbled over. She got up close and looked down her long, quivering nose at the body with big brown eyes, right up by its face.<br><br>

What happened? <br><br>
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</div>
<div style="background-color: #7da26c; padding: 2px; margin-top: 2px;"></div>
<div class="zmbb">ADD.: Kuzco | WORDS: 693 | NOTES: THIS IS GOING TO BE HILARIOUS. XD </div>
</div>
<div class="tcred"><a href="http://shine.b1.jcink.com/index.php?showuser=1892" target="_blank">♛ Ames</a> <a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/chrisparker2012/" target="_blank">Credit</a></div></center>[/dohtml]
Jun 1 2017, 10:42 AM
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<img src="http://orig10.deviantart.net/f68c/f/2017/152/4/e/312wickedalwayswins_by_mycers-dbb6p3f.png">
<div class="zmbox">
<div class="zmlyr1">I do so enjoy </div>
<div class="zmlyr2">watching futility wreck a man's will</div>
<div style="background-color: #7da26c; padding: 2px; margin-bottom: 2px;"></div>
<div class="zmmain">
<div class="zmpb">Squaaawwwk. <br><br>

"Hello, beautiful one." Zelena looked up as the monkey fell to her side. Her hand went to reach for its head, to feel the wiry little fur under her fingertips. But it shook its head, tiny reddish-black eyes like beads blinking behind jaws laced with yellowing fangs. "What is it?" It gibbered in a frenzy. She narrowed her eyes. "What?" The monkey hopped from foot to foot as he and his mistress walked the length of the corridor. Gold glinted across the wall, set with vast veins of emerald. The witch and the monkey were ugly oil splodges against windows looking out against spires and domes of the city. Its teeth chattered together, some kind of humanness still left in it causing it to gesture wildly with little paw-like hands as it tried to illustrate its point. It scrambled to keep up with the witch's pace. <br><br>

But it screeched a harsh note and Zelena stopped dead in her tracks, turning. "I don't care!" Care! Care! Care! Her cry echoed off the golden hall, easily heard from all directions. The monkey cringed, oily black wings folding in towards itself in a rustle of coarse feathers. Tiny little paws went to shelter its head but no blow came. It peeked through its fingers at the witch, who wrung her hands together in earnest and was pacing backwards and forwards, deep in thought. At its gaze she rounded on him, suddenly remembering her servant was there to begin with. "Oh! Kill them for their insolence! Do it! Now!" The monkey flinched, leaping backwards and scrambling to get away. With one bound it launched itself into the air, black wings propelling it around the corner and out of sight. Zelena was left staring after it. In a rustle of her dress she was walking down to her chambers, which were moments away. <br><br>

Uprisings. The things they didn't tell you about being a tyrannical, usurping ruler. <br><br>

She pushed open the broad emerald doors of her chambers, stomping up to the central dais. Her cheeks were flushed, auburn hair trying to escape her hat. Her hands went to fix it absentmindedly as she walked, not even noticing the lack of guards. But her heel was barely on the first step when she looked beyond to see an unfamiliar figure further into the room. She stopped. "You! What are you doing?" Her bark rang out across the chamber. Who the hell was it now? <br><br>

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</div>
<div style="background-color: #7da26c; padding: 2px; margin-top: 2px;"></div>
<div class="zmbb">ADD.: Flynn Rider | WORDS: 412 | NOTES: SORRY FOR LATENESS! </div>
</div>
<div class="tcred"><a href="http://shine.b1.jcink.com/index.php?showuser=1892" target="_blank">♛ Ames</a></div></center>[/dohtml]
May 29 2017, 03:12 PM
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<img src="http://orig07.deviantart.net/746f/f/2017/043/c/9/zel_post_box_pic_by_mycers-das9ua2.png">
<div class="zmbox">
<div class="zmlyr1">so i will fly</div>
<div class="zmlyr2">INTO TOMORROW</div>
<div style="background-color: #7da26c; padding: 2px; margin-bottom: 2px;"></div>
<div class="zmmain">
<div class="zmpb">It had been in the corner of the kitchen for months now. From her preferred chair Zelena could see it out of the corner of her eye as she sipped her tea, read her books, went about her business. Night or day, rain or shine, it was always there, a silent yet unmistakable presence. An aura of vague malevolence permeated itself, suffused itself from the very nook where it stood, as rigid as a soldier. It hadn't moved. It hadn't done anything. And yet she could, nonetheless, feel the atmosphere it brought into her farmhouse. <br><br>

One chilly morning, enough was enough. She was out of practise, she reflected as she set herself up outside her house, mounting a broom - the broom - a safe distance away. She had barely used it since she had come to Storybrooke, but today was different. Today was the day she would take to the skies...if she could kick off the ground. The broom remained stubborn but the witch kicked the ground again and again, trying to get the momentum. Typical. The one time she wanted to fly, she thought irritably as she gave it a final go - <br><br>

The broomstick bounded into the air. It sprang upwards, spiralling and twisting in a lurching corkscrew - and kept going and going, up and up at a sickening, pitching angle. The strands of twigs were snapping under the pressure, the wood groaning under her with jars and creaks. The wind buffeted her hair, gusts of icy breezes momentarily taking her breath away as she gripped onto the handle tightly, knuckles pressed white over the broom - but the familiar old wood was worn to the touch as the witch's hands found the grooves eroded into the bark, impressions left by hundreds of hours of flight. With a reeling stop it steadied under her direction, settling like an old palfrey and once again correspondent to command. Zelena risked a smile, looking down below to see her house underneath her dangling feet. <br><br>

She had never seen Storybrooke from up high before, as she swooped away from her home and into town. Rather than seeing rolling woods and quadling villages there were grey blocks of buildings and cars running like ants. Cars. She snorted. There were better ways to travel than those metal deathtraps. And although appearing and disappearing in clouds of emerald cloud was stylish, there was nothing quite like being on a broom. She was devilishly agile, darting and swinging around in the open air. The wind was just right today, the chilly air bracing against her face and her lower arms as she rose and dived over streets and homes and houses. Zelena could sit comfortably, not clinging on for dear life but finding her seat and leaning into every curve, every climb into the clouds, every pitch down as low as she dared. But it wasn't enough, and although she was already grinning like a loon she couldn't help a manoeuvre. Building up speed she rose up and upside down, swirling into a loop the loop - just for the thrill of it. <br><br>

A witch had to have her fun. <br><br>
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</div>
<div style="background-color: #7da26c; padding: 2px; margin-top: 2px;"></div>
<div class="zmbb">ADD.: The Red Queen | WORDS: 526 | NOTES: Left the location vague so you can set this up wherever really (wasn't sure as to how to introduce Ana). Sorry for the wait <3 </div>
</div>
<div class="tcred"><a href="http://shine.b1.jcink.com/index.php?showuser=1892" target="_blank">♛ Ames</a></div></center>[/dohtml]
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