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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
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Joined: 10-December 16
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Last Seen: 13 minutes ago
Local Time: Jun 26 2017, 07:08 PM
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Zelena

Oz

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13 minutes ago
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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, now residing, at around four or five, to 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>

</div>


</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 class="zmbb">ADD.: Kuzco | WORDS: 693 | NOTES: THIS IS GOING TO BE HILARIOUS. XDD </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>
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<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 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 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]
Apr 28 2017, 05:54 PM
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<img src="http://orig13.deviantart.net/5fd2/f/2017/042/4/3/zel_post_box_pic_by_mycers-daw7kge.png">
<div class="zmbox">
<div class="zmlyr1">and this little munchkin</div>
<div class="zmlyr2">NEVER LIVED TO SEE THE LIGHT OF DAY AGAIN!</div>
<div style="background-color: #7da26c; padding: 2px; margin-bottom: 2px;"></div>
<div class="zmmain">
<div class="zmpb"> What did Zelena hate more than some visitor from town being on her farm? <br><br>

Zombies being on her farm. That's what. <br><br>

Granted, her farmhouse hadn't seen much zombie related activity. Being far away from the rest of Storybrooke as it was - in the 'middle of nowhere', as she put it with that soft exhale of someone glad to be as far away from possible from the drama that seemed to come from the town centre - the zombies didn't seem to travel up here. They preferred the alleyways of the main town, the open roads and of course old haunts like the graveyard. <br><br>

She would be lying if she said she hadn't done some...investigating. No one outwitched the Wicked Witch of the West and no one, quite frankly, attacked her without there being consequences. And once the zombies had made it personal she'd scouted some out. Of course, that hadn't been anything but magical target practise. Her aim had gotten better, but that was about it in terms of advancements in any way as to who was doing this and why - and why they'd gone for her, if anything. If the stinking vermin could talk they certainly weren't clacking those mouldy jaws to chat with her and no amount of dark art magic seemed to do much to correct that. So Zelena had retreated, for now, with a wary eye on these new supernatural neighbours. It wasn't admitting defeat. It was reorganising, establishing whether they meant to be a further threat. <br><br>

Until they'd decided on a house visit - and that was enough. Sorry, but they didn't get to crawl across her real estate. And it was with flashing malevolence in her eyes and a toss of red hair that she came storming out of the farmhouse, trotting down the steps and heading right for the undead visitors round the side of her dwelling. They were ambling around in her back garden, slack jawed with bloodshot eyes staring blankly ahead. She could smell them from here. "Oi! You!" Her call made the zombies slowly turn to see her. "You've messed with the wrong witch!" Her eyes skimmed across them. Three. She could handle three. Hell - the could handle five, in her opinion. Zelena rose her hand in readiness to dispatch the trespassers. This was nothing. One blast and they'd be back in the earth where they - <br><br>

She stopped. Under the protection spell that told her who was on her property there was something else - no, someone. Someone beyond the zombies she could see, at least. She looked around, suddenly catching sight of a complete and utter stranger. Her frown soured. Why was she so popular today? Didn't they all have things to do down in town? Fighting their own zombies, maybe? "Who the hell are you?" <br><br>

</div>


</div>
<div style="background-color: #7da26c; padding: 2px; margin-top: 2px;"></div>
<div class="zmbb">ADD.: Charles Vane | WORDS: 471 | NOTES: THANKS FOR YOUR PATIENCE BACH</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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