★  WHEN MY HEART IS MADE FROM GOLD AND FORGIVENESS SEEMS TOO BOLD

ooc [member=449]Margaery[/member]
mii: watches HGTV once
mii:
mii: writes five paragraphs of home design

Hazel was on her third day of clearing out the room she’d come to call her own. She was tired and sore from pushing heavy things around, trying to clear up some floor space to set up something that resembled her old room. Or...not her old room. She didn’t know. She had spent so much time - both willingly and unwillingly - in that small room with its one window and pile of blankets she’d molded into the shape of a bed, that she couldn’t really imagine any other way a room might look.

It was in that sense that the old filing cabinets and boxes and other organizational devices cluttering the room were a sort of comfort: making the big room seem a little smaller, a little more manageable.

But that didn’t mean Hazel hadn’t ever dreamt of things she wanted to add to her old room that Mother wouldn’t let her. During long days when the lock on her door stayed tightly tilted to the left, Hazel would lay back and hum to herself, imagining what she could turn the tiny wooden room into one day. She’d add posters to the walls and hang polaroids next to the window; she would plug in a projector that reflected the night sky on her ceiling; she would plant succulents in the broken pots she found in her backyard and put them in the windowsill; she would paint whatever she could see and hang it up on the wall opposite of all her posters and pictures, so there was a sort of balance; she would find baskets and line them up along the wall, filling them with books and fairy tales and stories of far off worlds.

This was why she had been working so tirelessly; using Arion’s help to push the heavy things against the wall, and taking hours to find a wagon and some rope so he could help carry all the smaller things to a room filled with junk. She got rid of the papers and trash and found something to clean up the floors with. She’d found lamps and outlets to plug them in to. She also found that the room itself was a bland color, and her childish dream of being able to paint whatever she wanted in her room was slowly getting closer.

And so it was a sunny day, and Hazel was still working, shuffling amongst the junk and things in a certain corner and humming pleasantly to herself, feeling more escaped from her old life than she ever.

★ — hazel — "speech" — six months — the ascendants — tags — ★
c) miithers

(I'M CRYING THAT'S SUCH A BIG MOOD)

Where Hazel's room was full of life (or working towards such), Margaery's had only the basics. There were no pictures or paintings on her walls and even decorations that would give away that it was indeed the rose queen who occupied the space were nonexistent. She usually was all about those sorts of things as well, dedicating hours to pouring her personality in the room that she would have no choice but to call home. This was a different situation and the chocolate point, unmotivated beyond belief, felt that there was nothing she could add to this desolate, lonely room that would ever liven it up.

Perhaps she had too high of standards. She and Suite had shared the most darling of cottages before everything had fallen apart. It was a place that exuded life and happiness, a place with smiling pictures of the pair and their friends and their family scattered on every wall. Roses and geraniums had bloomed out front and their porch had been the place of many singing and storytelling sessions. Compared to that warmth, this room was nothing but a prison cell.

She spent next to no time in it too, preferring to sleep underneath the stars in her newly-planted garden. She found herself constantly wishing that she and Suiteheart didn't have to pretend- that they could pick a room together and make it a place of happiness again. Right now though, that was an impossible desire and she had to push it to the far corners of her head. They were running from a past full of pain, they couldn't reveal their identities yet, not when the fear of the unknown still loomed over them.

But for whatever reason, Margaery was in her room today, staring blankly at the untouched off-white walls. At her paws, rested a picture of she and Suiteheart and, to its left, another of she and the souls. It was one of the only two she could salvage and, determined, had brought both with her. She didn't care who saw them, not after realizing that nobody would enter her room unless she personally permitted and so, with that in mind, made quick work of hanging them up right above her sleeping area. [color=#b14767]"Well that looks a little better," She said with a quick nod, scanning the desolate space with unimpressed eyes.

As much as her distaste for it stood, she truly did need to brighten the place up. It was much too dark for her and that was saying something considering her sensitivity to bright lights.

She was close to beginning when she heard the sound of furniture moving and a voice humming. It appeared that she was not the only one with home improvement plans in mind. Abandoning her room, she located the sound of the source, peering inside to discover that it was Hazel who had decided to add some pizzazz to her living place.

[color=#b14767]"Hello," She greeted casually, gray gaze darting between the colt and the girl, [color=#b14767]"Margaery, if you don't remember."

She had been so engrossed in the pair and what they were doing that she hadn't realized that her real name had slipped. She was weary though- weary of this facade, weary of this game, weary of lying. And besides, Hazel didn't strike her as a malicious creature. If there was anyone she trusted with this secret, it would be her.

★  WHEN MY HEART IS MADE FROM GOLD AND FORGIVENESS SEEMS TOO BOLD

ooc I’m sorry but Fixer Upper is my jam like Chip is a walking dad joke/child and I live for it

Hazel’s ears pricked upwards at the sound of someone else in her doorway that was not Arion bumping into the wall again. Instead, there was a voice, and at its notice, Hazel abruptly sat up, whacking her head on the bottom of the filing cabinet drawer she had opened ten minutes ago. A yelp of pain escaped, and she carefully ducked out from underneath it.

Navigating around the mess, Hazel poked her head above a small pile of papers and tattered folders. To her delight, it was Margaret, from the border. Or, Miss Margaret, to Hazel. She was at the age where Miss still felt right in rolling off the tongue; using full names supplied that she was an equal with the adults, and that in itself was something her old clan members made sure to never let happen until a certain age.

Hazel’s ears twitched at the mention of a different name, and the girl was now puzzled. “Hello. I beg your pardon but, you introduced yourself as Margaret by the border.” Haze flushed, realizing it might be her mistake. “I’m sorry - I might have misheard you.” She apologized.

★ — hazel — "speech" — six months — the ascendants — tags — ★
c) miithers

[color=#b14767]"Oh my!" Gasped the chocolate point, springing forward only seconds after Hazel bumped her head. Though not physically making any contact with the other girl, she inspected her from a close distance, gray eyes wide with what could only be described as concern. [color=#b14767]"Are you okay, darling?" She inquired tenderly, arching a metaphorical brow in her direction. Head injuries were no laughing matter and, even if the younger fae believed herself to only have sustained something minor, Margaery was still concerned.

Perhaps this suddenly onslaught of motherly, overprotective actions could be traced back to her innate desire to not only take anyone and everyone in under her wing but also mother them. She couldn't be certain though; there was something about Hazel that intrigued her- something far beyond that usual spark that other children possessed.

Her slip up had been temporarily forgotten but was quickly brought back into the spotlight as she was asked about it. There was no use lying, not anymore, and she figured that Suiteheart wouldn't mind too terribly if she revealed details that they had agreed to keep a secret. She had faced the truth already; their real identities were bound to come out sooner or later...

Why couldn't hers just come out a little earlier?

[color=#b14767]"No no, you had heard correctly when I introduced myself as Margaret. You see dearie, that was... that was..." She hesitated, wondering if Hazel would grow to resent her for this intricately spun deception, [color=#b14767]"a lie. I've been lying to everyone about who I am as part of this delusion I have. I suppose part of me still thinks I can run from the past. My real name is Margaery, I can promise you that."

It felt nice to come clean and, inadvertently, she found herself breathing a sigh of relief. [color=#b14767]"But that'll be our little secret... alright?"

★  WHEN MY HEART IS MADE FROM GOLD AND FORGIVENESS SEEMS TOO BOLD

ooc screeches bc I’m mobile and I have fifteen minutes to write thIS && also realizing that H and Margy look very similar oo

Embarrassingly, Margy’s concerned bound made Hazel start, the girl flinching back in surprise. It wasn’t Margy’s fault, it was just...Hazel had learned to dread adults; their size, their wrath, their rules. Back home, most everything Hazel said was out of line. Everything she did, every move she made - all of it was taken with offense.

So...she adapted. She eventually learned to follow after Mother without speaking unless spoken to; she learned to cast her gaze to the ground when an adult was scolding her; to sit still and not dance around to avoid Mother when she was angry; to bite her lip against the pain and swallow back against the tears, obediently nodding when told it was good for her, that it would teach her discipline that she deserved and she needed it.

Of course, odd bits and parts of Hazel still stuck out: most of her clan members found pride and chivalry in their scars. Hazel couldn’t understand why - she found only shame and embarrassment, only content when her body was tucked out of sight. Maybe it was because their scars were earned in battle while hers...were earned from disobedience.

Her reactions became abnormal reflexes in theory. In reality, they were an oxymoron: to sit still when someone moved abruptly towards her, despite the slight raise of her hackles; to hide away things that should not be hidden; to duck her head down in the face of anger. All of it irritated her fiercely, as it was clearly abuse that passed as the norm. But she had no say in the matter - no voice that could possibly sway her situation. So instead she learned exactly how to walk and move the way they wanted. She crumpled her defiance and reshaped herself in the form of someone new: someone silent and shy and obedient and fragile.

Forcing herself to breathe out, Hazel nodded. “Yes, I’m okay.” She responded stiffly, desperately trying to loosen her limbs. Though at Margaery’s next words, she lost focus on her own body immediately, easily picking up on the discomfort of the other feline.

Hazel’s head tilted, her golden optics owlish. It settled on the wrong side of her, lying. Lying always got her in trouble. But Margaery made it sound as if she was lying to herself as well as the rest of the clan, and for that, Hazel was morbidly curious. As long as the lie was something that harmed no one, Hazel could keep the secret. She could keep a secret very, very well.

Giddy with the concept of being trusted for the first time in her life, Hazel nodded solemnly. “I can keep a secret,” She promised dutifully. And then, because her verbal filter was weak with her age and lack of abusive structure: “I’m running from my past, too.” A beat passed, and then realization was dawning, Hazel shrinking a little as she swallowed around the rising shame and embarrassment. 

Hazel wasn’t sure why she’d brought up her history - it was as uncomfortable a topic as any. Maybe she wanted to be able to relate to Margaery. But...not badly enough to spill the past six months. “I...” She swallowed, gaze finding the floor again and wishing it would swallow her. “Nobody was supposed to know about that. It’s - it’s not important, anyway. Can I help you with something?” She asked, her voice a bit shakier than before.

★ — hazel — "speech" — six months — the ascendants — tags — ★
c) miithers

(dude it came out so good!! & omg i never realized that)

Where Hazel had struggled with a mother who wanted nothing but to control her child's life, Margaery had dealt with one who had seemingly grown tired of her role as a parent. She had never had anything but a negative relationship with Caroline and Niklaus and both of them had abandoned her in favor of their agendas- much more interested in the temptation of darkness than their last child. She had once been considered the result of the unification of good and evil, day and night, light and dark, but after her mother gave into her own selfish desires, she could hardly even carry the last name 'Mikaelson' with any pride much less be her parent's idol daughter.

She had encountered her mother only once after she had been abandoned at the border of her old home and, as a sort of apology, had been offered a collection of journals that helped her none. She didn't want the rationale behind her mother's decisions nor did she want the intricately written stories of her father's 'golden days' as a renowned serial killer. The only members of her family who had even shown her the slightest bit of compassion had been Elijah and Emilia, her aunt and uncle. Though they had only met briefly and once, there was something different about the way they held themselves and more importantly, treated her. Yes, they were monsters, but they commanded the beasts within themselves so gracefully. She had grown to want to be  just like them.

She had vowed to be a better mother than Caroline, taking it upon herself to foster any lost soul who didn't have parents to call their own. Children held a special place in her heart and even when she was gone, replaced by the pure evil that she had inherited from her parents and their parents before them, they managed to ground her and drag her back to reality. Not even Suiteheart had that strong of influence over her.

Smiling gently at Hazel, she nodded in response to her first statement, glad to see that at least the other was alright. Eyes would linger on the spot where she had hit her head for but a moment before falling to meet the other girl's gaze, that smile still gracing her lips. It wasn't until the secret was promised to be kept and Hazel confessed a secret of her own that Margaery's face shifted, resembling concern now, over anything else.

She sensed how uncomfortable such a thing made her though and, desperate to alleviate that even slightly, decided to offer her own history. [color=#b14767]"I used to be a deputy of a clan long ago. There, I lived with Suiteheart and our many, many children. Everything fell apart though and we were caught in the aftermath of it. Things were just so bad that neither of us wanted any reminders of our past. We wanted the future and what that had to offer. We thought ourselves to be newer people too, better people... But I'll confess I'm still not a good person, not like anyone else here is," She rambled quietly, her words adopting a distant tone. She only supplied the bare basics in fear of revealing too much but hoped it had been an adequate diversion from Hazel's own past.

[color=#b14767]"And no, not really. I heard some commotion and came to investigate. What motivated you to do some room rearranging today?"

(also this is kinda hella rushed bc i have to write a 2000 word essay)

★  WHEN MY HEART IS MADE FROM GOLD AND FORGIVENESS SEEMS TOO BOLD

Unbeknownst to Hazel, Margaery’s title as the daughter of Light and Dark would strike a chord deep within her; an undiscovered piece of identity. A golden, immortal piece of identity. A piece of identity so untapped, so dormant, that unlocking it would flip Hazel’s world upside down. It would essentially have the effect of a switch flip: bathing everything that had previously been blanketed in darkness in absolute light. It would be a different side of the same coin. It would be the original version of Hazel, the likes of which had never been seen.

But Hazel didn’t know about Margy’s parental situation. She didn’t know about the secret battle of beginning and end that would one day rage inside of her. But what she did know? Margy was confiding a seemingly deep secret in her, which meant there was a level of trust that Hazel had accessed. And part of her felt guilty that she couldn’t do the same and share her past, but...that was too personal, too capable of rendering her even more vulnerable.

Noticing the fade in volume and glassy look that overcame Margaery’s eyes as she continued talking aout her past, Hazel visibly tried to relax her shoulders, despite Margy’s presence being a smidge too close for her liking. She’d have to grow used to it, anyway. Blowing out the smallest of breaths as subtly as possible, Hazel let her expression fall to one of disbelief and slight surprise, as Margy’s sentence caught her off guard.

“Well…” Hazel said quietly. “I’m not sure what you mean when you say you’re not a good person.” She gave a small smile. “And I’m sure that not everyone here is as good as you make them out to be. There are a couple people that look like they’ve killed someone - or, would like to, at least - so some of us might have a few more demons than you think…?” Her voice lilted up on the last word, phrasing her statement as a question to leave room for argument.

At her next question, Hazel glanced around her room. “I’ve been working on it since I arrived,” She purred proudly. “I just want enough space to be able to add some things that I wasn’t able to have in my own room.”

★ — hazel — "speech" — six months — the ascendants — tags — ★
c) miithers

She found it strange how Hazel was unable to sense the darkness that she carried in her own soul. It was not hard to see through that charming smile and sickly sweet disposition to the real thing underneath- the monstrous thing - and yet, the girl her opposite seemed to possess no inclination that she was sharing the same room as a killer. Margaery, vaguely, wondered if her acting had just gotten all that much better, she certainly had been running from her deviant past for a long time, hiding underneath facades and lies. It was a little shocking admittedly, but she didn't let the emotion show on her face, merely maintaining that amiable smile (which she did guarantee to be genuine. Hazel was no victim of hers and she would present the realest form of herself as possible if it meant getting closer to her). Or maybe, Hazel was just oblivious. Either way, she was relieved. She wasn't quite ready to show that part of herself to anyone anytime soon.

Margaery did manage a small laugh as the other girl mentioned how some of their clanmates looked like they've killed before, wanting so badly to inform her that she had killed countless times until the act was more of a chore she could execute in a single sweep. She was terribly good at playing god and taking away the life from those who she deemed to be evil. She was also a terrible hypocrite in that sense. [color=#b14767]"It's bad to judge a book by its cover," She jokingly responded, though she did agree somewhat. Excluding herself, who would probably strike her clanmates as a wildcard, there certainly were a few among them who seemed to have been hardened by the act of stealing another life.

Speaking of, she was incredibly grateful that her own, delicate features had not been touched by her past transgressions, still retaining the easy elegance and beauty that she dominated so gracefully. [color=#b14767]"I think it's safe to say that everyone has demons," She responded, her expression faltering only slightly, [color=#b14767]"It's how we live with them that counts though." Uncertainty touched Margaery's words and she was instantly reminded of her own demons... she was a let down of a mother and of a child, never good enough for both Lilyspoise and Caroline, much too loving for either of their tastes she supposed.

[color=#b14767]"That makes sense," Margaery breathed, a note of relief lacing her tone. She had grown uncomfortable by the subject at hand as well and was more than happy to deviate from the topic to discuss rooms instead. [color=#b14767]"I actually just started working on my own room today. I hung up a picture of my wife and my children," She admitted. Hazel had already been entrusted with her real name, why not let on a few more tidbits of information? It wasn't like they were really harmful to anyone.

★  WHEN MY HEART IS MADE FROM GOLD AND FORGIVENESS SEEMS TOO BOLD

Seemingly difficult, the concept was not hard to comprehend. Hazel was unaware that she shared a room with a person skilled in murder (though unwillingly so), the same way that Margaery was unaware she shared a room with a former goddess. Granted, there were hints to these juxtapositions, if one were to look hard enough. For Margaery, it might be in the swing of hostile to docile moods, or her restlessness. For Hazel, it was in her aura.

At the shift in mood, Hazel felt her shoulders slump and relax as Margy’s tone lightened. That topic had been itchy and uncomfortable, steadily creeping towards the exposure of her past. So when Margy admitted another truth to her (gone unacknowledged as a secret in the first place), Hazel smiled, bright and radiant, her aura pulsing with renewed vigor. Family. Margaery had a family, and that - wow, that was one of the coolest things to Hazel. It was one of the things she wanted the most: a complete family.

“That’s so cool,” Hazel purred, quiet with awe. “You sound like you love them a lot.” She observed.

★ — hazel — "speech" — six months — the ascendants — tags — ★
c) miithers

Hazel was right- Margaery loved her family more than anything in the world. She'd gladly die for them as much as she would kill for them, hell, anything they willed she'd execute as easily as she could if it would appease them. She supposed the problem was that her family was in shambles though- Suite was a bear, Lil hated her, and Eli, Lissa, and the rest of their children were simply gone. She didn't think of her mother or father or even her aunt and uncle, the family name 'Mikelson' was hers to command and she didn't see any of them fit to hold that name... not anymore.

But for Hazel's sake, the chocolate point smiled thoughtfully. She knew that their previous conversation topic was far from preferable and so, in attempt to deviate further from that than she already did, Margaery reasoned that it would be okay to tell the younger girl all about them. [color=#b14767]"Yes well, there's my wife Suiteheart. You probably know her... I love her very much," She began, [color=#b14767]"And then the triplets- Eli, Lissa, and Lil... They're wonderful, absolutely wonderful. I have a lot of children actually but they've all... They've all been lost."

//hella rushed but i wanted to reply!!