Topic: Candlewax and Cobwebs: In Preparation of Samhain

CherubicMagic

Date: 2015-10-22 04:13 EST
Crouched before the hot iron belly of her wood stove, a one miss Lilliana McClae let the heat from the fire within lick at her outstretched fingers, soothing their sore tips. They'd been busy, those pale hands. That is, she'd been busy. Busy, busy, busy as a late autumn bee. She and her fingers weren't the only tireless workers either, both boots and the backside that powered them had been putting in their fair share as they traveled to and fro along the lengths of road that stretched between town and home. Things were coming together though, and while her body sometimes ached with the stress of it all, the gypsy witch had no real reason to complain. The night was but a week and a few precious days away, and while her preparations were many and near done there were still quite a few loose ends that needed tying. There was the butcher to see, her corset to tool and buff, the farmer who'd be delivering her pumpkins, the local brewers who'd supply her night's drink, a chandler whom she still needed to consult...

"Ah, an' the leather smith. He'll be needin' a checkin' up on. Be' he'll have the oil I've been aft'er fer this damn corse' t'oo." Pursing her lips, Lilli exhaled hotly, her breath aimed up high at the persistent curls that haloed her brow. The leather smith also had a particularly essential part to play for her upcoming festivities. Without him, let's just say Lilliana and her many guests would be more open to ethereal mischief without the goods she'd commissioned the man to craft.

Retracting her hands from their hovering about the stove, the brilliant buxom took a few steps backward to assume a more relaxed position inside the afghan-draped arms of a favorite chair. There at it's side stood an equally favored, three-legged antique table that'd seen many a day before her own. Atop it, beside a half finished cup of tea and a hank of yarn she'd yet to ball, lay open a loose hard cover journal. It's pages showed a series of little lists and half drawn doodles that attempted to bring some deeper dimension to her thoughts and 'to do's. Eyes blinked and peered downward as the gypsy set her finger to what looked like crudely drawn leaves and animal heads.

"Auspicious nigh'. Can' be t'oo careful." Outside the wind howled mournfully in a way that set any tree limb caught in it's passing to swaying and shaking, adding further harmony to the chilly night's music. Shifting in place, Lilli wiggled into the hug of her chair and woolen afghan a bit more, grateful for the support and warmth. Pulling her legs up onto the chair with the rest of her the redhead tugged slowly at whatever excess blanket she could. Sense told her bed would be more comfortable, but given the energy required to up and relocate herself from this side of the room to the other, she'd suffer what comfort she had for now. Mouth low, she buried her nose in the thick weave, leaving little more than the pale, freckled hills of her cheeks and the bright, molten rings of her eyes peeking out. She was a sight all curled up; like some great ginger cat who'd proudly stolen your seat, hair fluffed, eyes peeping, she stole a glance up to the half moon window that crowned the door to her caravan. She saw the shadow of those rickety branches dancing, and for a moment let herself imagine how with the next sway, they'd reach high up enough into the heavens and scatter the already widespread stars. Maybe they'd even try to take a chunk out of the growing moon.

"....silly. Always the girl-child, Lilliana." Amused with herself, the gypsy witch laughed out loud. "I suppose tha's wha' I ge' keepin' hours like this fer no good reason." Unsticking her eyes from the window too effort, but once she managed it, a much greater lure tugged at them, her bed. Moving still seemed took great a chore, however, especially when the heat she was accumulating between her quilt and the bright, cheery little stove was finally setting into her bones just right. Aha, the stove.

"Mm....Need t'clean tha' ou' t'oo." Another item added to the list, which, glancing down at her notes, had the word cobwebs circled and underscored several times over. Grumbling quietly, Lilli buried her nose back into her afghan once more, eyes lidded.

"Damn cobwebs." It was her own fault, given the busyness of her schedule and her great disdain for the chore of dusting in general, she'd put off this particular 'to do' for a while now. In all honesty, given the time the buxom had spent away from the city over the past few years, she was actually quite surprised that the dusty phantoms had stuck to their corners, rather than attempted to take over the whole of her wagon. The image made her shiver, unfortunately for her, that shiver dislodged a yawn that'd been stuck somewhere in her chest for a while now. Knowing when to admit defeat, Lilli grumped one last final time before rousing herself from her chair, afghan trailing like some motley bridal veil.

http://orig10.deviantart.net/b7ab/f/2006/364/a/e/trees_and_moon___3545_by_utoks.jpg

________________________________________ ________________________________________ Do you hear it' The wind's still whispering....Samhain.

CherubicMagic

Date: 2015-10-25 15:41 EST
"Oh Goddess damn ya' t'the hells an' back!" Scalded once again due to a lack of concentration, Lilliana's piteous howl of pain colored the cool autumn air as sure as the wind and the leaves. Hair pulled back into some semblance of bun, fingers sporting a blister here and there, the gypsy witch, tongue between her teeth, set her eyes back to her work; a complex cluster of hot wax and pillar molds both short and tall. However, she was far from alone this day.

"I keep tellin' ye' t' focus, daughter o' mine. Although, humor me. Tell me why ye' didnae just task the chandler ye' had consulted w' this silly business?" Melina, Lilli's companion for the day, at a glance, was starkly dark in appearance when compared to the younger, more brightly colored woman she hovered beside. But a deeper look revealed many a common thread, and as well it should, for the pair were similar creatures. Melina's tongue was silvery, eyes sharp, her movements subtly sensuous, yet steady with purpose and intent, and while each woman catered to her own variation of speech, there was a queer sort of harmony to be had when they spoke at length together. It was often thus when mother and daughter came together as they had this day.

The day itself was glorious, and as such, they'd spent the time and performed their work out of doors in the little slice of Lilliana Land that she'd carved out for herself in the Glen many years ago. The countryside stretched out in every direction, all angles of it ranging with autumn's palette; golden birches, dark evergreens, red maples, orange oaks, browning willows, even, clustered down nearer the lake fed in part by the stream she'd taken up space beside. Breathtaking wasn't the word, especially not when the wind caught and came just right, bringing with it the smell of the season. Every window of her wagon had been flung open, curtains fluttering, grateful for that enticing, seasonal breeze. The door too, had been propped open out of novelty and necessity. Despite this, both her little-bellied indoor stove and much larger, outdoor hearth roared merrily with flame to stave off what chilly winds did sneak in throughout the day to nip at their heels and necks. Melina's wagon, meanwhile, was still hundreds of miles back with the Garridan caravan, but no doubt equally as alive and cheery even in her absence. She'd traveled with Lilliana's aide to be here today by way of a clever little gold key that her daughter had taken to keeping on her person. Powerful trinket as it was, neither witch could claim to be it's maker; no, that honor lay with another. Another who'd often in the past score of years loved and lavished the fiery gypsy McClae. No doubt that other who wielded such power and prestige would have lowered himself to helping her this afternoon, but something whispered wisely to Lilli that having that other around with so much hot wax didn't bode well for the heavy productivity scheduled for the day.

"Ya' know full an' well why, ya' old wit'ch. Don' be t'ryin' tha' coyness on me." After all, you're the one I learned it from. Her thought, while unspoken, hung heavy in the air, much like the scent of the oils that'd been blended into the beeswax; cinnamon, clove, anise, and a subtle heart's note of good wood smoke.

"Aye, aye, I do. But it does this hear' o' mine good t'hear m'lovelie's logic spoken aloud." Melina countered playfully as she moved toward the massive belly of water they'd set to simmer. Inside it sat what remained their afternoon; seemingly endless amounts of liquid wax. In truth, even with magic, it'd taken both sets of their hands to stage the scene properly. Between the raw slabs of unblended wax, the weight of the water pot, the alchemist's cluster of oils and extracts, and the scores of pillar molds that'd been appropriated from the aforementioned chandler....well. Alone it would have proved impossible. Then again, the significance of this task was in the simple fact that it was much more than a task, but complex, repetitive series of spell work. Over and over, each candle she poured came with a prayer. The air, in between Lilliana's colorful curses, was humming with power and carefully woven hearth magic, and that was simply something she'd trust no other with.

"Say the blessin' aloud, Lilli-love. Say it w' me." Stirring the molten wax with one hand, she reached down toward one of the many jars of oil they'd toyed with, measuring out a few precious drops. Anise rushed into the already thick atmosphere they'd created with their work.

"Let this pillar o' prot'ect'ion craft'ed out'side o' me, mimick what?s within. The wick, i' st'ands as I st'and. The wax, i's body, firm ye' sof' like m'own. I's fire m'fire; when li', may i's glow surround me." Lips, like her careful hands, moved with practiced measure. Their craft, while heavily reliant on innate ability, thrived best when practiced. Ignoring the curls that had escaped her confines, ignoring the chill of of wind as it skated by and up her spine, ignoring all but the reassuring presence her mother's power added to the afternoon, and the words on her lips, she prayed aloud.

"Le' i' prot'ec' me on all sides from things both seen and unseen, ligh' pierce the nigh', lay bare the evils tha' may chase me an' mine. While spring sleeps, peace be wha' thy keep." As she finished pouring another stout pillar, Lilliana couldn't keep the smile from washing over her face. The warmth of magic well done was a feeling like little else, and it spilt down, claiming her cheeks to toes and all in between; filling her much like the steaming, liquid wax filled her molds.

"That's m' lovely lady..." Melina's reassurance came on little more than a proud, motherly breath. Crow's feet deepened their bite near the older witch's eyes as she bathed in the glow of her daughter's magic. The power was raw, it's body large, much like her child's own, never failed to encompass and inspire those nearest it. Protection and the key elements of old magic had ever favored and flavored Lilliana's work, Melina inwardly mused, and that was nothing to scoff at. Like any parent, no matter how often her child practiced their talents, Melina relived her pride as if it were the first day it'd been discovered. That magic very particular, but older still, and it was a kind that lived in every creature made flesh that'd ever known the joys of what it meant to create life.

Lilliana, while still all but glowing like the late afternoon sun, turned with a blink toward her adoring company. Her eyes melted from intense and owlish to wry and impish in near an instant. "-oi'! Mama, don' ya' be st'andin' there w' tha' face! Ya' know the incant'a'tion t'oo! An' m'fingers are blist'ered somethin' fierce from yer' dist'ract'in' me w' yer lovely yappin'!" Laughing, she moved to join Melina beside the cauldron and it's contents. Grabbing up a cloth, she snatched up the ladle, mindful not to spill as she padded back across the short porch toward the railing where all the waiting pillar molds stood. "An' if ya' ask me abou' grand children one more t'ime, I'm liable t'damn her help an' boo' ya' ou'!" An empty threat for sure, but she teased her mother all the same.

"Firstly, don' ye' take that tone w' me, witch. Secondly, I'll have ye' know I bug yer brother an' Niamh all the same, an' they've already provided me w' such." It was true. Lilliana knew better, and as such couldn't fault her mother for it.

"Yeah, yeah, I hear ya'." Grumbling with good nature, she couldn't keep the grin away from her freckled features.

"Aye, ye' bett'er. I've a need t'see somethin' smaller an' chubbier than yerself w' tha' red hair o' yers." Melina countered her daughter tit for tat, as any clever parent could. After all, what sort of influence would she be if she didn't continually challenge and reset the bar for her lovely child"

"Perish the though'! M'already carryin' the backside o' a house. Can ya' imagine the belly that'd give me"!" All but aghast with the idea and the image, Lilliana shook her head in a very childish way, face pinched and scrunched and all. Without a word, her posture changed again; she was pouring another candle, and her hands were tired of being scalded by hot wax. Sure, her skin smelled lovely, but blotchy red spots didn't become her pale complexion.

"Ye' don't stay that way very long, love, relax. As it stands, yer not gettin' any younger." This last part she offered kindly, albeit ominously. Dusky eyes set themselves to her daughter's back, their depths knowing. Older she may have looked, but not by much, and the years hadn't done a thing to change that. There was a secret there, but one her daughter hadn't chosen to try to discover quite yet. Melina knew to be suspicious, but Lilli hadn't made it a point to broach the subject, but the time would come, surely. Today was not that time though, and as the intensity gave way in Melina's dusky eyes to something more soft and casual, she moved in, at long last, to help as her daughter bid her.

"Enough talk, Lil'. Samhain is nigh upon us, child, let us make haste. I'll free the pillars that've set an' begin their wrappin'. When ye' have finished pourin', ye' go and free the rest." Teeth flashing, Melina laughed as she cast a look out in the direction she knew the rest of their clan to be traveling in from. Soon indeed. She'd join them tonight once the candles were done and packed away. There was work to be had on her end as well...

http://www.peoriaparks.org/media/autumn-forest-homepage.jpg ___________________________________________ ___________________________________________

Melina Garridan and other prominent faces within the Garridan gypsy clan...