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alias: Jessica
age in ##: 38
story: Wizard of Oz
gif (150x150): https://orig00.deviantart.net/556e/f/2017/311/6/0/ezgif_2_e050e1e0cc_by_mycers-dbt1ugv.gif
Application: http://ourheroesandvillains.jcink.net/index.php?showtopic=2375
Plot Page: http://ourheroesandvillains.jcink.net/index.php?showtopic=2386
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Last Seen: Yesterday at 02:00 pm
Local Time: Nov 23 2017, 06:53 PM
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Zelena

Oz

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Nov 16 2017, 02:25 PM
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<div class="zmbox">
<div class="zmlyr1">once you go green</div>
<div class="zmlyr2">you'll never go queen</div>
<div style="background-color: #7da26c; padding: 2px; margin-bottom: 2px;"></div>
<div class="zmmain">
<div class="zmpb">- Zelena slammed the door behind her. The clang of metal meeting stone rose in a blare of noise, only to meet a stubborn wall of silence. Her heels clicked softly on the bare stone, each a steady beat against the floor. <br><br>

The Enchanted Forest. She was finally here. Outside she could hear the faint shrieks of the monkeys - probably terrorising another village nearby. It wasn't her concern. This world would be hers, rightfully hers, but her thoughts were still far, far away, back at the castle, back with her sister and her lovely little friends…old bowls and cups clinked gently as she walked. She was carrying a tray, the remnants of a certain someone's latest meal.<br><br>

The Dark One was still safe and sound in his cage. And completely mad, of course. Zelena felt an itch at the corner of her mouth - the beginnings of a smile - but it was soon tempered. Oh, Rumple. If only he hadn't absorbed his son, if only he had let that waste of space go....and then perhaps she would be dealing with someone she could actually have a conversation with. Someone who knew where he was and knew how powerless he was to stop her. It was fun, certainly - and such a novelty to see him lose control. And this way she didn’t have him fighting against her as much as he would’ve done if he were sane...but the realisation about what was happening to him was a bit too buried. A little too filed away. She wanted to see his emotions brought right up to the surface....<br><br>

It was easily fixed. As soon as everything was in position she could work on him, tease out the tendrils of sanity that still lay under the surface so he could understand, fully understand, what she was doing and his role, if he wanted to take it. Even if he didn't, she'd go ahead anyway - but that wasn't the point. This wasn't meant to be permanent. <br><br>

None of it was. <br><br>

It was a shame they'd had to move out of Regina's castle when sister dear had come along, but Zelena had been getting bored anyway. Playing house got a bit boring when there weren't any dollies to play with. After throughly ransacking her sister's jewellery collection (onyx, black pearl and diamond - but none of those suited her particularly emerald colouring) and finding nothing to her liking, and having tried on every dress she could find, there was comparatively little to do. She didn't know this place, didn't have any attachment to it, so that limited the enjoyment she could get from burning it down or stamping on its ashes. And all of those balconies and open air corridors - it really wasn't her thing. Really, either architecture in the Enchanted Forest had done a suicidal nosedive or Regina had been getting sloppy, but better that she was with Rumple in his cosy castle, fine-tuning her ingredients in comfort and security than scurrying around trying to defend herself in a frankly hideous home. <br><br>

The fire crackled in the grate as the witch entered one of the halls. Stone turned to carpet, dull walls turned to faded drapes and tapestries. This place was a home away from home as it was, almost. It was funny. She could remember turning up here a dozen times for Rumple’s lessons - heart pulling, heart crushing, replication of objects, teleportation...and she'd dreamt then about coming back, a witch fully in her prime. And here she was. Zelena. All over again, bigger and better than before. The student becoming the master. And the student bringing a friend, too. <br><br>

The little brother she never had. <br><br>

"Still spinning," she announced as she walked in, her dress rustling as she moved. "Not enough for a brain just yet, but we'll see. You should hear him." Her mouth twisted in derision. His dagger, her emerald pendant; she knew to keep the source of her power protected. Why didn't he? "He's still babbling. All day every day, far as I can tell. I was thinking of moving him up here." She set the tray down on the table with a clatter, dusting her green hands of it before turning around in the space. "He'd really brighten up that corner. Add a touch of something."<br><br>
</div>

</div>
<div style="background-color: #7da26c; padding: 2px; margin-top: 2px;"></div>
<div class="zmbb">ADD.: Michael Banks | WORDS: 735 | NOTES: </div>
</div>
<div class="tcred"><a href="http://shine.b1.jcink.com/index.php?showuser=1892" target="_blank">♛ Ames</a></div></center>[/dohtml]
Nov 14 2017, 01:56 PM
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<div class="zmbox">
<div class="zmlyr1">laws exist until they're broken</div>
<div class="zmlyr2">BY SOMEONE SUPERIOR</div>
<div style="background-color: #7da26c; padding: 2px; margin-bottom: 2px;"></div>
<div class="zmmain">
<div class="zmpb">At least she wasn't green. <br><br>

Zelena pulled up her sleeve of her blouse, turning around to look around her. It was a forest, trees pressing in from all sides. She sighed, her hands dropping into her lap. She was still in human form and she was all in one piece, with no broken bones and no cuts, beyond the few that she’d fixed herself. That was lucky, by portal standards. But still. It was like she attracted the bloody things. She’d say this was a turn up for the books, but it really wasn’t. If anything the novelty was really wearing off. What did portals want with her? <br><br>

And what did they want with her, too? <br><br>

Maybe it was because Zelena was more used to portal jumping now but she found herself less seasick and achy than before, coming to after the shock that bit more quickly. She hadn’t been awake long, just enough to realise where she was. And, naturally, that she wasn't alone. The witch's eyes crossed over to the stranger again, the one still lying where she’d fallen. She had to be someone in town, of course, but as to who Zelena was fairly sure she hadn't seen her before. Sometimes she'd had difficulty remembering what had happened moments before a portal jump, but temporary amnesia or no temporary amnesia she was sure she didn't know this woman to start off with - just someone who had gotten unlucky, she supposed. Same as her. Wrong place, wrong time. She'd checked the woman was vaguely alive (always helpful, she found) and left her to wake up naturally. She needed time to think.<br><br>

But this was too much time. The witch tapped on her thigh, a staccato beat of impatience as she balanced precariously on a tree stump. Already the itch to find out how to get back was rising in her - to test out her magic and see what she could do to get out of this. What realm was she in, even? She ran her hands through her hair, her fingers snagging at the strands. This didn't incite panic anymore, going to other realms. Just exasperation - like a particularly nasty traffic jam she hadn't expected. She had to get home, now more than ever. <br><br>

But she couldn’t do any of that without her little friend here. She had the distinct impression she ran the other B&B in town - not Granny’s but the other one. That meant she’d surely be missed. Zelena pursed her lips. Obviously someone would get blamed for that, and by ‘someone’ they meant her. The witch would take credit for what she did when she actually did something, thanks, but not before. And as it was she couldn’t lug her through the woods…she got off her tree stump, brushing herself down. Time to wake Sleeping Beauty, since she didn't seem to be doing that herself. <br><br>

She went down to crouch by the woman, getting down to her level. The gentle rise and fall of her chest assured the witch that if she was injured it wasn’t life threatening at least - at that she exhaled in relief. But beyond that she didn’t stop to see for any injuries as she gently shook the woman’s shoulder, trying to rouse her. "Hello…?" She paused, but just as she stopped to try to remember the woman’s name her eyes slipped to a sort of nametag on her clothes - like the type worn by staff at some of the places in town. The inn - of course. The Ozian read Lorelai Gilmore and then, underneath, manager. She shook the woman’s shoulder again, a little louder now she was armed with the stranger's name. "Lorelai? Hello?" <br><br>

The name was awkward on her tongue, clunky and unfamiliar and wholly unlike any other name she'd heard, but they had to get up and get moving - and quickly. Zelena took a glance around them. Any realm wasn't usually quite as spellbound as it appeared, and even with her magic she didn’t want to find herself outnumbered against someone - or something. It was dangerous here. She looked down at the woman. "Lorelai," she said, a little louder. "You need to wake up now." <br><br>

</div>

</div>
<div style="background-color: #7da26c; padding: 2px; margin-top: 2px;"></div>
<div class="zmbb">ADD.: Lorelai Gilmore | WORDS: 725 | NOTES: </div>
</div>
<div class="tcred"><a href="http://shine.b1.jcink.com/index.php?showuser=1892" target="_blank">♛ Ames</a></div></center>[/dohtml]
Sep 22 2017, 03:26 PM
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<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">The old wood of the porch creaked under her feet as Zelena made her way into the open air. In the early evening the birds were beginning to quieten, the light starting to fade. She leant on the porch, leaning against one of the supports and staring out. For once it was peaceful, and she'd learnt to treasure those days. Faintly strands of red hair were blown with the gentle breeze as she looked out at nothing. Nothing at all. If she listened very carefully she could hear the hubbub of the cars in main town Storybrooke, the occasional shout. She tilted her head to one side. <br><br>

It was easy to conjure the ball. It leapt willingly into her hand, bright and sparkling. With an upward flick of her wrist it went up into the sky, past the porch and the farmhouse and the chimney and into the air. She threw another and another, little balls thrown in the air and then latching onto the sky like they had tiny claws, snagging the dark fabric of space and nestling there and weighing down the sky - stopping it from slipping away into the night just yet like tiny pins. Their rapid ascent slowed. She drew her fingers out splayed - <br><br>

Boom.<br><br>

- And the balls suddenly exploded with a dull rumble, bursting into fireworks. With a crack and a blaze the sky outside her home was torn into ribbons of colour, bright streaks of vibrance amid a darkening sky. The old walls of the farmhouse were lit up with a brilliant radiance of circles, bolts and beams - the dazzle of a hundred shapes. And then moments later it was gone. A sprinkle of sparks soon followed, falling like rain but dissipating into nothing by the time they hit the ground and leaving trails of coloured smoke. <br><br>

She used to do this as a girl. Stand out in the cold in something threadbare, making the sky light up in a thousand colours. It'd been fun, to see what colours she could do. Yellow, for the brick road. Green, for the Emerald City. Red, like her hair. Tiny fireworks, though - nothing like these. "Never would've done this." The words passed her lips despite there being no one to hear them, a murmur just under her breath. No. Never like this. Magic was something to hide when she was a child, like some unfortunate disease. Something to hide from the neighbours, something that made the boys whisper of the monster in the shack. Her father was always on the lookout for magic. He would've seen for sure and come marching out of the cottage, brandishing whatever he'd been able to land his hands on first. Depending on if this was before or after her mother's death, there wouldn't be anyone to stop him from unleashing his anger on her. His rage. <br><br>

His fear. <br><br>

Fear it was, she'd worked out. Zelena might've not gone to a school - not really, as Oz wasn't known for its wide-scale education plan, nor any desire to lift up its people; she'd accomplished what she'd accomplished despite of Oz, not because of - but she was able to identify motives when she saw them. Her father had been scared of her, fearful of her power, even when she would have done nothing towards him. When her mother was around she'd thought it was because her father thought she'd hurt herself - that his concern was fatherly, paternal. Of course it all came out after she died. God knew where he had gone once she had ascended to power in the Emerald City, but he had been wise to keep his head down. Zelena would've come after him and given him a true reason to fear her. <br><br>

He was probably dead now, she reflected, her blue eyes following the whizz of colourful flares. She rarely thought of her adoptive father. The witch pushed the thought away, enjoying the moment and tossing another firework up into the air - and then another and another for the next show. It was still early evening, the night in its infancy. So what if some people down in main Storybrooke could see a few lights up here? She wasn't doing anything remotely wicked. If anything they should be thanking her for the show. <br><br>

</div>

</div>
<div style="background-color: #7da26c; padding: 2px; margin-top: 2px;"></div>
<div class="zmbb">ADD.: Morgana Pendragon | WORDS: 722| NOTES: SORRY FOR THE WAIT NADIA!</div>
</div>
<div class="tcred"><a href="http://shine.b1.jcink.com/index.php?showuser=1892" target="_blank">♛ Ames</a></div></center>[/dohtml]
Aug 29 2017, 01:14 PM
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<div class="zmbox">
<div class="zmlyr1">she's spunkier, fresher-faced</div>
<div class="zmlyr2">and clearly more innocent than me</div>
<div style="background-color: #7da26c; padding: 2px; margin-bottom: 2px;"></div>
<div class="zmmain">
<div class="zmpb">The buckets hit the back of Zelena's calves as she lugged it through the woodland lane. <br><br>

The young Sister winced. Summers in Oz were either one way or the other: freezing right down to the bone, or blistering hot. This year was apparently the latter. It had got so warm these last few days she wondered whether she'd gone and taken a wrong turning and ended up at the Deadly Desert instead. Maybe that wouldn't be such a bad thing, she thought to herself. <br><br>

She'd been shifting water all day to the munchkin villages. They were without water thanks to the drought and the well by the grounds of the Sisterhood was one of the only places where the water hadn't run dry. Glinda was always saying that to truly understand the suffering of the people who lived in this land it was imperative to really experience it. Zelena had laughed the first time she had heard that. They all had magic in the sisterhood, so why not use it? Since she had fully embraced her magic all she wanted to do was actually go and use it - save them all a bit of time. But no. Apparently they had to be aware of true suffering. So there Zelena was lugging it behind her, thinking perhaps of other methods of true suffering... <br><br>

She wouldn't really do anything, though. Zelena knew that. She was just a bit hot and bothered. If Glinda wanted them all to lug around buckets she supposed it had to be done. She was a member of the Sisterhood now, a proper member of something - and she knew now, of course, why she was here. Delight unfolded in her chest, as if she was discovering the news all over again. She was here by prophecy. Glinda had said she was always meant for more. She'd just hoped that more didn't mean more buckets. But Zelena was still happy to do it - sort of. She could....she could learn to be patient. This was where she belonged - that was what her sisters said. Her true sisters, not Regina. She'd just have to wait a bit, and then she'd do her bit, unseat that greatest evil Glinda had talked about. <br><br>

But even so, something lingered at the back of her mind, as she avoided a piece of uneven ground and continued to drag the buckets behind her. She noted that Dorothy, apparently due to her young age, didn't have to do any of the work the other Sisters were doing. She went to wipe some sweat off her brow. Ugh. At Dorothy's age she had been working like this or even harder back home, when she'd still been a peasant. Why did she get a way out? <br><br>

She knew, of course. It was because Dorothy was special, wasn't it? More innocent, more spunky. Zelena wasn't stupid! She'd watched how Dorothy was fawned over by her sisters. They all loved having her around. They all had their cookies and their biscuits at the Sisterhood Table. Not that Zelena could say anything, she thought to herself. She went through some mud. Normally she just sat and watched and smiled and laughed because that was what she had to do, because that was what Glinda wanted. But inwardly she cringed away from this little girl who seemed to have everything.....<br><br>

Zelena's eyes shot down to her skin, praying not to see the hint of green she knew was there under the surface. Her skin, surprisingly, was still clear. Phew. She let go of a breath she hadn't known she was holding and looked back up to the lane. She'll be gone soon, she thought to herself, trying to take what Glinda said to heart. Let go of envy. Let go of envy. Let go of envy. She can't stay here forever. She'll be gone soon. What was the place she came from? Kansas? There had to be people who missed her there. Zelena wasn't entirely sure why she hadn't gone yet, but it was too rude a question to ask and the Sisterhood were all about manners. She'd held her tongue for a while now, seeing Dorothy skip about the place while everything was laid out for her. Only a few more days, probably, she thought to herself. Then it would just be her and the Sisters and her prophecy...<br><br>

As she arrived at the well clearing she blinked in surprise. Who was here but the heroine in gingham herself. "Oh." Zelena put the buckets down, rolling her shoulders to try to get some feeling back. "Dorothy."<br><br>

</div>

</div>
<div style="background-color: #7da26c; padding: 2px; margin-top: 2px;"></div>
<div class="zmbb">ADD.: Dorothy Gale | WORDS: 1000 | NOTES: <3 </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, 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>

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<div class="zmbb">ADD.: cora mills | WORDS: 507 | NOTES:</div>
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