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#nox.plotdrop011
noxtms · 3 years
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the moon was barely there, only a sliver or two of it reflecting brightly that night. it was a somber affair, could never really be anything else, not given the circumstances. a woman, kind and caring and virtuous, found murdered. her killer still walked free. any conversation, whispered & quick, was swallowed by the night seconds late. 
it was in this oppressive silence, this display of grief and mourning, that oriana trelawney found themself in. anyone in the crowd could be forgiven for missing the way they stood unsteady on their feet. a sticky sort of malaise plagued them, left them uneasy & nauseous in a way that guilt ( they had, after all, failed to find the woman alive ) could never explain. after a moment, they stumbled forward in their attempt to excuse themself quietly. 
martha strout began her speech, spoke of the sister loved so dearly and lost so tragically. all attention turned to her, not to the stumbling, sickly person hidden in the crowd. except for one cho chang who, at the sight of oriana in this state, moved closely to her former schoolmate. she wrapped an arm around their shoulders and whispered in their ear, asked if they needed anything, before guiding them away from the crowd. 
the pair ends up seated on a bench in a nearby park. by then, a migraine pounded behind oriana’s eyes, and they wanted nothing more than to close them and surrender to sleep. it was a horrid feeling. there was something building and building and building. words they did not know and words they would later know only written down laid heavy on the tip of their tongue. 
in the darkness on that night with the barely there moon, a figure - lurking and looking and listening - was easily missed, never a presence noted by the two twenty-somethings that sat there on that bench. whatever thing, heroic or mundane or villainous, that brought them into the darkness of the night was forgotten at the sight of the two, something in the air making them think to follow them, even if in the shadows, oriana and cho were awarded some degree of anonymity. 
they stepped forward, a twig snapping under their foot. cho looked back, caught a glimpse of the lurker, but that was forgotten in an instant when oriana’s eyes finally drifted, only to open a moment later with a hollowness not there just a moment before. they grabbed cho’s hand, their grip tight and painful and spoke, “vacate et scire...” and the words rang odd in the air.
it felt as if the night dropped several degrees and whatever slivers of the moon that were visible, dimmed. there was not long before they spoke again, the words barely past their lips before more tumbled out. “as surely as the skies will open ... as surely as the sea will swallow the earth ... “ 
it was not silent, of course. but the sounds of nature, that unstoppable beast, were faint compared to the words spoken. “when the thorned king threatens the undone queen, and the dread fires near forgotten burst forth, once more ...” 
“only after an old wrong is righted will a sacrifice still be wrought. blood is blood is blood is blood, spilled once and spilled again.” throughout it all, they sat so still. the only movement was the rise and fall of their chest and their lips. “three did live and three must die, for what nature did not give, the world will not abide. take heed : for blood is, and blood was, and blood is all there shall ever be, should damned spot desecrate the most hallowed of ground.” 
“sic infit … si vis pacem, para bellum.” 
after it all, after oriana returned to themself, only briefly. a something that wasn’t there in the minutes before the speech, a something that perhaps was never there in the years oriana lived before, shined in their eyes before their eyelids closed and they slumped against cho.
and cho stared, tried to make sense of it all, but never got the chance to answer. the lurker chose in that moment to take their exit. they ran, no longer a quiet onlooker, but now one of two that held vital information, and they had people to tell & plans to make. better to get there quick, better to lose whatever advantage afforded to them by stealth, than to risk anything important being lost to malleable human memory. 
by sunrise, emergency meetings would be called, members and officials woken in the middle of the night and gathered, but at that moment, in that quiet, quiet night, cho wrapped an arm around oriana and bore their weight as she tried to get them somewhere safe. 
CREDITS & OUT OF CHARACTER :
first and foremost, credits to chris for the above self para ! they’ve had the patience of a SAINT in working on this whole thing with me, and it felt only right that they get to be the one to write the delivery of oriana trelawney’s first prophecy. thank you most especially to cherry, too, who put in SO MUCH time & effort to the prophecy - it very literally would not exist, as it is, without them, and i am so beyond appreciative of all they’ve done. thank you also to lana, who allowed us to involve cho, and thank you, too, to all of you guys - for your patience, and for your engagement. our first season & prophecy were worth the buzz, and i really hope you guys get a kick out of this one, too ! 
the candlelight vigil, though never officially an event, should wind down from now to focus on what’s to come next - fresh meeting channels, a mini event in the discord, a fun little announcement, and, come mid august, our ministry gala - but let judy never be forgotten. after all : there’s still the mystery of what exactly happened to her to unravel.
the prophecy is, as per the first one, to be posted on a sub section on discord where you can all discuss your thoughts. i actively encourage you all to work together & spitball ideas ! as always, i won’t confirm or deny - but this marks the real beginning of noxtms season two, and you should all feel free to get as involved as you want to ! 
if you have any questions or concerns, feel free to message them to me. once you’ve read this, comment the first thing to come to mind ! 
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