Time passes much more quickly in Rohandor and many long and happy years have gone by since the characters retired to enjoy their respective 'happily ever afters,' their greatest foes were imprisoned in the Forever Stone, bound in an eternal sleep. Until Now.
Happily Ever Afters takes place in Rohandor, a mystical realm on another plane of existence from our own. Here our favorite Disney heroes and villains live in a world all their own; Alive, but far from well. Heroes and heroines fight to keep peace while newly freed villains seek their revenge. Come join us in an epic adventure as the characters you love clash in a struggle that will determine the fate of Rohandor!
HEA is an AU canon-only animated crossover Disney Play-By-Post Role Play with minimal word count.
HEA Staff
News and Updates
4/24/21: We've been on hiatus for a number of years now. I don't know that I'm entirely ready to return BUT I have been cleaning up the site and working to update everything since a number of movies have released. There is still A LOT of work to do but if you see this update and were an active member of the site prior to the hiatus, please send the Yen Sid account a DM to let me know you're still interested in playing and if you wish to retain your current roster. I hope you've all been doing well and staying safe!
Happily Ever Afters is a play-by-post forum role playing game based on the movies and television series of Disney and Pixar. It was created for recreational and entertainment purposes only and not intended to step on any toes, offend, or infringe. We did not create nor do we own the content from the Disney and Pixar stories and movies. None of the threads and writing on this forum is associated or affiliated with Disney/Pixar in any way. We do not make any money off of this site or its content. The icons used in the Forum Information & Statistics and those like it throughout the board as well as the BBC buttons and smileys were taken from a layout called Absolute Madness made by PookyTart from Userbar Depot. All of the other graphics used on this board were found, created, or otherwise edited by Yen Sid or Te Fiti. Please don't steal or use any graphic from this board without explicit permission. All storylines and plots used in the threads/topics were created by the staff and members of HEA and should not be copied or used on another board without permission.
Participating Characters:Grimhilde, @queennarissa Forum Location: The Forbidden Mountains Time of Day: Evening Weather: Gloomy Thread Location: Maleficent's lab Premise: Narissa has heard about Grimhilde's plight and is paying her fellow villainess a visit to offer her help. Hopefully the two of them can get along long enough to actually get something done...
Narissa's steps echoed down the corridor as she approached the lab. The decor in this place reminded her of her own former lair, which put her perfectly at ease. She was in quite familiar territory, magic and manipulation being her two favourite skills to exercise.
And oh, wouldn't she have Grimhilde under her thumb if--no, when she fixed her fellow fallen monarch's little cosmetic dilemma? Narissa grinned at the thought as she came closer to her destination. Her pace slowed to muffle the sound of her footsteps--she wouldn't let Grimhilde hear her coming. No, she'd make a suitably dramatic surprise entrance. She had to keep the upper hand here.
That'd go a long way towards taking Grimhilde down a few pegs even as her beauty and (relative) youth was restored, and hopefully her success where Grimhilde had failed would impress Maleficent as well. Narissa might not be the one staying in the evil fairy's castle, but she knew that she ought to be placed higher in the hierarchy of their growing organization than someone who couldn't even reverse the effects of her own potion.
Of course, it simply wouldn't do to outright destroy a fellow villain, even metaphorically, when they were all supposed to be banding together. Still, the sorceress couldn't help but think of Grimhilde as a sort of rival--but she had to admit she did see the potential for a useful ally in the queen, too. Besides, Narissa was horribly curious to find out exactly why Maleficent was so keen to assist her.
The sorceress draped herself against the door frame, and once she'd settled into position, addressed the room's central occupant with a smirk.
"Well, you're in quite the pickle, aren't you? You poor thing..."
Last Edit: Sept 2, 2017 21:15:03 GMT -5 by Yen Sid
Nothing. So many resources; tomes and ingredients that made her own collection look trivial and mediocre in comparison, and nothing. No measure or mixture that Grimhilde sent down her throat shook the peddler woman disguise that was in place. Yet, she would exhaust every outlet available to her before she would move on.
The Queen took a rattling breath and felt phlegm catch in her throat. Scowling, Grimhilde hacked up the obstruction, spat it in a goblet and turned back to her distant skimming of a particular spellbook. At once one of the Keepers of the laboratory took the goblet and cleansed it. Had the Keepers not been there minding the sanitation and organization of the chamber, it would've looked much worse. Grimhilde had turned many cauldrons over, shattered many containers and flipped several tables in the throes of her temper.
Several minutes passed and Grimhilde was about to push the book she read aside to order another when a voice - dripping with velvety condescension and smug purpose - filled the room from her back. The Queen turned slowly to cast a withering glare over one hunched shoulder. The woman that stood in the doorway was a stranger to Grimhilde. She had only met Maleficent thus far, and was sequestered in the laboratory ever since, bent on her task.
This stranger, though, had to have the dark fairy's blessing. That's the only way she'd have been able to get through the powerful magic Grimhilde had watched Maleficent work through when she first opened the laboratory's door for her. At once, Grimhilde despised this intruder. Her appearance alone was a sleight to the Queen and she had to fight off the urge to lunge at her and use her nails to mar her perfect features. Grimhilde wanted to encounter no one, hideous as she was. Least of all someone whose look evoked so many similarities to the one that was forever denied Grimhilde.
Surveying her options, the Queen decided to remain cordial... for now. "I don't believe we've met," she said simply, then faced forward and, using the table as a crutch, worked along it until she came to its end. Grimhilde grabbed a handful of dried herbs and cast them into a boiling cauldron.
The jealousy and cold rage oozing out of the old crone was palpable, and it was delicious. Narissa felt decades younger just standing in the same room with her. It more than made up for the fact that the sorceress would have to look at that face for the next little while. She knew how horrifying it was to see a hag in one's reflection where there should have been a beautiful woman, and it was no less unpleasant for her as an outside observer. To think that it was even possible to trap oneself in such a form...
Of course, her smug expression didn't flicker, no matter how revolting she found the other woman's appearance. Or even how pitiable the situation was, though she'd never admit to having any shred of sympathy for another person. She hadn't become the darling of Andalasia's royal court by being honest, after all. She'd been raised to be charming, not sincere, and she was very good at being charming when she wanted to be. Even when she was being mean. Now that was a talent.
"Queen Narissa of Andalasia." She announced, striding a few steps further into the room with a grand sweep of her cloak before pausing to give the other woman a conspiratorial look. "Well, former queen, technically--we have that in common, I hear. A temporary condition for us both, I should hope! You can call me Narissa, by the way."
She picked her way around the debris in the lab to stand alongside Grimhilde, peering into the cauldron with a critical eye even as she continued chatting brightly to the hag. "Of course, I know who you are, Grimhilde--may I call you Grimhilde?--because I like to keep myself well-informed about these things. I thought I'd come take a look at how your little project has been going, but I see you haven't made much progress... Perhaps I can help with that, I'm very good with potions."
The answer to Grimhilde's question was an offered title and, though some might think that this stranger's pronouncement as a queen might irk her, it didn't. If anything, Grimhilde was made critical and intrigued, looking with a narrow and shrewdly appraising attitude over her shoulder once again at this "Narissa." Regrettably, rather than turning and leaving, as Grimhilde very much desired her to do, Narissa moved further into the laboratory.
Only at the end of her reign had the Queen really plunged her courts into neglect. She had become so terribly, wholly devoted to her Mirror that anything else seemed excessive or unnecessary. Grimhilde saw that now, even if the desire to reclaim the object filled her with fire. Once upon a time, though, her castle had been full of nobles and dignitaries and the Queen had successfully run her realm for many long years between the King's death and her descent into reclusive obsession.
Grimhilde, in other words, knew that nuisances were sometimes worth dealing with if they were powerful ones. Before she was a royal herself, Grimhilde had used flattery and manipulation hand-in-hand with her own beauty and magicks to secure the throne for herself, after all. She respected Maleficent out of necessity and an actual, palpable fear - if tinged with admiration - of the dark fairy's powers. Narissa claimed no such respect but that didn't mean she couldn't be useful...
Narissa swept inward even still, lips smacking while she airily prattled. The Queen was perturbed to hear that Narissa was a former royal as well, and felt a small pang of irritation, as though she had stolen or mimicked Grimhilde's own story. Staying on cordial terms with Narissa was more pleasant a thought after this revelation, though. They would both be on their respective thrones one day and in this strange new world Grimhilde would need allies after her revenge as much as before it.
Then Narissa was right upon her, peering into the cauldron and offering to help in a condescending, patronizing way. Grimhilde may have slapped her, if she had the energy left. As it was, the Queen fell back on habits that she'd not had to use since her coronation. Clinging to tact and guile of her youth, Grimhilde waddled back a few steps to lean against the table for support.
She may have been a prideful and vindictive creature, but above all Grimhilde's vanity superseded. Letting Narissa help could have one of two outcomes: either success, and Grimhilde's beauty would be restored, or failure, whereupon Narissa's pride would be pricked. Both were agreeable to the Queen. "By all means," Grimhilde said with a small grin showing rotten gums and mismatched, yellow, brick-like teeth. She gestured to the cauldron with one knobby hand. "I'll admit I'm at an impasse. If you're as good as you claim, ridding me of this cumbersome disguise should be simple."
Narissa smiled tightly at the other woman in response, trying not to let even the slightest flicker of disgust cross her features. She was eager to start work--the sooner Grimhilde was restored to her former appearance, the better for both of them. But it was clear that the hag expected her to make a fool of herself doing so.
This was obviously a test. Grimhilde was throwing her to the wolves, metaphorically speaking. She had no information on the nature of the spell, or any knowledge of what Grimhilde might have attempted to break it previously. There was a very real risk that Narissa would wind up trying the exact same methods, earning the scorn of her--ugh--peer, and destroying her chance at an alliance with the other woman.
But she was smarter than that, of course. Grimhilde didn't know who she was really dealing with, but she'd soon find out. It never paid to underestimate the sorceress--although she did often find it very satisfying to prove people wrong. The look on Grimhilde's face when she pulled this off would be doubly so, she was certain of that.
"Well, I'll gladly give it a shot," Narissa began, turning to scan the shelves of the lab for ingredients in an attempt to avoid looking directly at Grimhilde's horrid visage. "But, of course, I'll need to know what spell you used to get into this state in the first place before I can come up with an effective counter. I'm not an amateur, after all."
Once Grimhilde gave Narissa leave to offer her aid, the two majesties studied one another for a heavy moment; the former failing to disguise her slyness, the latter failing to disguise her displeasure. The situation was entirely balanced in Grimhilde's favor, which had her feeling less vexed and more relaxed than she had since waking from the Sleep of Ages. Narissa couldn't make any choice without risk, just then, and the Queen was deriving strength from that.
Grimhilde's grin broke fractionally wider when Narissa smoothly continued with her original offer. She was talented at seeming indifferent and casual, Grimhilde would give her that. Even if the Queen's own regal tastes and aims were oriented toward sheer, insurmountable, fear-inspiring, cold elegance. Narissa's languid, sardonic styling suited her.
Regrettably Narissa went on to prove that she was not quite as insipid as Grimhilde would've liked. She went to browse the objects and ingredients that Maleficent's laboratory was furnished with while explaining, with an air of factual obviousness, that she would need to know the peculiarities of Grimhilde's transformation. That she wasn't, after all, an "amateur."
"Oh, certainly not," Grimhilde responded to this claim. She didn't fully work to rid it of sarcasm, either. The Queen creaked along the work space she'd been leaning against and found a chair to lower slowly into. Once there, Grimhilde laced her knobby hands and watched Narissa sweep about. "Very well-" and Grimhilde explained. She detailed that the book had been called "Disguises," and was written in aged Italian script. She explained the process of the potion she had brewed to secure her disguise.
Once Grimhilde had finished, she scowled, yellowed eyes glazed with distant, brooding thought. "These things I remember so clearly," she muttered. "Those pages, yet the Sleep of Ages has muddled any recollection of the others." Would that she could remember anything from her spellbooks except those margins that explained the Peddler Woman Disguise, or the Poison Apple!
"Well, I suppose it's a start." Narissa muttered with a frown once Grimhilde had finished her explanation. Without the book itself, she couldn't be sure that any of the other woman's information was reliable, but it was all she had to go on. Narissa briefly wished she'd brought even one of the few magical texts she'd managed to recover from her former palace, but even then, she realized, she couldn't have guaranteed that her own spellbooks would have been of any real use in this situation.
Now, however, Grimhilde's plight, her difficulty in finding a solution, made even more sense to the sorceress. Deprived of the resources she relied on, forced to move forward on memory alone--that left a lot of uncertainty, which was an especially dangerous thing to have to deal with in casting spells or making potions. So of course progress had been slow--the only safe way to proceed was slowly.
Fortunately, Narissa didn't have quite as much of a stake in this situation as Grimhilde did. She could afford to be more daring. The worst that could happen was that the old hag might die or be transformed into something worse, and Narissa would have to smooth things over with Maleficent, which she didn't doubt she could--but the sorceress would certainly prefer to have Grimhilde alive, as her usual self, and in her debt. Though it wouldn't be all that bad, Narissa supposed, if she accidentally turned the witch into a cockroach, either...
No, that wouldn't be productive, but she'd save the idea for another time, in case Grimhilde became more of a liability than an asset. Right now, however, she had a very different transformation potion to make.
Narissa did a sweep of the room to gather the necessary ingredients from the shelves scattered about the lab before setting the various jars, bowls, and vials on the table Grimhilde was currently using to keep herself upright. One of the Keepers had already replaced the cauldron with a fresh one, so she was able to set to work immediately putting ingredients in the cauldron. First, a pinch of a glittering black powder, followed by two handfuls of dried lilac blossoms.
"Pass me three springs of rosemary, will you?" She asked, holding out one hand to Grimhilde while she stirred the cauldron's contents with the other.
Making a mental tally of what was gathered, Grimhilde's narrow look became a shade more intrigued when Narissa finally returned to the central cauldron and placed her bounty on the table before the old crone. The Queen's jaded curiosity soured when Narissa asked for her help. Scowling, she huffed and snatched the requested ingredients from the lot before tucking them moodily in Narissa's waiting hand.
At length, the potion was complete and Grimhilde took the measured portion in her hands slowly. This was a very foolhardy thing to do, she realized only just then. Who knew what kind of mixture Narissa had truly concocted? The Queen's working knowledge of potion-crafting was enough that she could predict with certainty what Narissa had made was not harmful.
Grimhilde couldn't find it in her to say something - either ominous, sarcastic or threatening - in the moment. Her desperation to be rid of her awful form was too great, and she hesitated only a heartbeat before downing the elixir. The Queen staggered when the substance filled her stomach. She grabbed onto the edge of the table while every joint, one after the other, like a sound of cards being shuffled, popped. Grimhilde was left, after the episode, gasping and facing downward.
Still hunched forward, obscured by her hooded robes, she lurched toward a covered standing mirror that had been brought for such a purpose. Throwing aside the thick cloth draped over it, Grimhilde beheld herself...
Still the peddler woman stared back. Grimhilde's shoulders quaked, in anger or despair it was uncertain. Her hands flexed and curled at her sides. Utter failure was stemmed when, by so doing, she realized that they didn't ache as they had. Grimhilde moved, testing the stiffness of her spine or the cramping in her legs. "Still the disguise remains," she hissed. The crone turned to peer beneath bushy brows at Narissa. "And, yet, it seems not all a loss. The strength of my former self fills these withered bones, now."
Grimhilde realized that a proper thanks was called for. She faltered under that truth, so unused to doing any display half as wholesome. "I concede: You are not an amateur after all." And that was as much as Narissa would get.
Narissa watched the old crone closely, noting her suspicion with some approval. It was becoming clearer and clearer to her that Grimhilde had more political and magical savvy than she'd expected--this was someone Narissa could work with, not as an underling but as something of an equal, as long as Grimhilde could be persuaded to view her as a worthwhile ally.
It was somewhat irritating dealing with the woman, who didn't immediately treat her with the respect she was used to commanding. But Narissa was also enjoying the challenge--she needed this sort of thing to keep her sharp, after all. She'd gotten too complacent, too confident, ruling Andalasia, and that had certainly contributed to her downfall. She was always at her best when she had something to prove--or rather, someone to prove wrong.
She didn't move to steady Grimhilde when the hag started to lose her balance, knowing that if they were anything alike, she'd be too proud to accept any further aid. Besides, Narissa didn't fancy the idea of being used as a crutch.
The sorceress hissed in dismay at her apparent failure, eyes narrowing in frustration--until something in Grimhilde's posture and demeanor changed. Narissa recovered quickly, adopting an air of cool detachment, as though she wasn't surprised at all by this development.
She couldn't help but smirk slightly at Grimhilde's admission--it wasn't quite the victory she'd wanted, but it was definitely a 'win' for her nonetheless, and a chance to gloat was hard to resist. "That's certainly progress. More progress than you would've made if you'd kept working alone, I dare say. Funny, isn't it, what can be accomplished when you just ask for help?"
The crone worked her way back to the table nearest the central cauldron and Narissa. While doing so, Grimhilde paid careful attention to her physical state. The only thing the Queen could tally was the discomfort at having to stoop and waddle the way the shape of her decrepit bones forced her to. Regaining her original vitality was good... and bad. It broadened the contrast to how Grimhilde ought to feel, and made the peddler woman disguise feel thrice as much like a prison.
Narissa was - of course - prattling on as Grimhilde casually experimented with her lack of pain and fatigue. She made it to the table and peered up at Narissa with a glean of cunning in her eye. "Oh, but I didn't ask for help," she reminded sweetly - the same sweetness she'd used to talk that sow, Snow White, into biting into the apple. "I merely accepted it." The Queen let that hang in the air, as if to emphasize her cleverness.
The other woman's words caused a strange kind of sensation in her skull. Grimhilde blinked, surveying the texts and ingredients around her with greater clarity. Her eyesight was improved by Narissa potion, she realized. That and... her memory? Her mind? Thoughts were crisp and clear, not cracked and withered as they'd been since she arose from the Sleep of Ages.
With memory returned something else, too. A realization brought on by Narissa's particular choice of phrase. "'Ask for help'," she repeated in a whisper. Grimhilde lunged into action, snaring ingredients left and right, barking orders to the Keepers to give her a fresh cauldron and fetch components out of reach. With the deftness of a warrior cleaning and composing their weapon, Grimhilde had thrown together a new potion.
Only at the last, when smoke billowed up from the mixture, did she pause and look suspiciously over her shoulder at Narissa. Grimhilde leaned in close and whispered the incantation as quietly as she could. The smoke twisted, took on the shape of something with wings. "Cover your eyes!" Then came a flash of light and the entire cauldron lay empty in the aftermath.
The Queen peered over a sleeve of her robes, formerly drawn up to shield her face from the flash, at Narissa. She cackled faintly. Lowering her arm, Grimhilde leered at her fellow potion mistress. The kind of cunning and excitement that filled her eyes made her look twice as menacing as normal. "Your potion did more than renew my strength," she remarked slyly. "My memory is returning and with it the recollection that I was not alone in my endeavors before the Sleep of Ages."
Grimhilde's hands ran over one another in front of her conspiratorially. "My familiar: a raven. He was not bound to the Forever Stone alongside me. Which means he must be out there, waiting to be called back." The Queen's gleaming eyes showed how important this was. If he was a faithful pet, as well he should be, bound by the dark arts to her as he was, then the raven would be incomparably helpful. Perhaps he even knew where her belongings had been taken?
Last Edit: Sept 20, 2017 8:09:41 GMT -5 by Grimhilde
Narissa's smirk faded quickly into a frown. She hated to admit it--and she wouldn't dare say so aloud--but Grimhilde had a point. She almost wished that her potion had given the hag her beauty back instead of sharpening her mind and restoring her physical ability. At least then she'd be pleasant to look at, and not quite so... feisty.
But the authority and swiftness with which she commanded the room now was still a thing to admire. Narissa valued that kind of strength and confidence, and had always tried to cultivate such an air herself, as a ruler--although it was difficult to deal with other nobility who possessed those same attributes, of course.
In most cases, that was nothing a little potion slipped into their wine couldn't fix, but Grimhilde clearly knew her potions, and besides, Narissa had no desire to rob her of her mental faculties. At least, not until the crone was no longer a useful ally or enjoyable company--because yes, as much as they'd been sniping at each other, the sorceress was in fact finding that she was starting to genuinely like Grimhilde. As much as someone like her was capable of liking anyone.
Almost too late, Narissa raised her arm to shield her eyes with her cloak at Grimhilde's warning. She scowled at the witch after the light dissipated, and was just about to demand an explanation for Grimhilde's actions, but shut her mouth at the sight of the eerie glint in the other woman's eyes.
She knew that look--that was the look of someone about to launch into some sort of monologue. Narissa had seen that look as a younger woman, practicing to her own mirror in anticipation of taking the Andalasian throne. It'd be rude to interrupt Grimhilde, possibly even fatal, if the two of them were as similar as she was starting to believe.
So, in a rare turn of events, Narissa waited her turn before speaking again. "...And I take it that potion was meant to summon him. So, assuming that he's able to return, you think he can help with your, ah, predicament?"
"He should hope very much to," Grimhilde replied to Narissa's query, aged voice frosting dangerous and black at the edges. "If he returns with nothing of use to me, then I shall boil him in this cauldron." The crispness that she said this with gave no shadow of doubt that she meant it. Turning, Grimhilde waddled to a chair and sat down. "Now: I wait."
Hours passed but Grimhilde did not move and did not sleep. Her gaze bore straight ahead, occasionally lifting to shallow, narrow, barred windows high above at the top of the laboratory's monolithic walls. Finally, a caw echoed down. She stood smoothly as the raven spiraled down on feathered wing. Grimhilde had been working over a spell that returned to her mind after Narissa's potion during her vigil. Now she spoke it in a whisper and said, "Show me..."
The crone's bulbous eyes rolled back into her head as the raven's glistened and shone with evil light. Grimhilde witnessed visions through the gaze of her familiar, stretching back to when the Queen's realm first came to Rohandor with her bound to the Forever Stone. Mere moments passed but Grimhilde's eyes returned to normal and she cackled.
"Well, if you do end up boiling him, just make sure to pluck him first. I can think of a few useful potions that incorporate raven feathers..." Narissa said, a smirk tugging at the corners of her lips despite Grimhilde's more serious tone.
She settled in to wait with the crone--or at least, she tried. After the first hour of unsuccessful attempts at getting Grimhilde to engage in conversation, flipping idly through discarded spellbooks and perusing Maleficent's rather impressive stock of potions ingredients, Narissa had had enough. She couldn't quite bring herself to leave entirely, however--Grimhilde's situation was intriguing, and Narissa wanted to see this thing through to its end.
"Let me know when your pet arrives, will you? I'm going to get some fresh air." She announced, and walked out of the room.
Narissa wandered the halls for a little while before finding her way to a balcony off a different tower, where she scanned the scenery for any sign of Grimhilde's familiar. Eventually she caught sight of a dark shape approaching, and transformed into one of her favourite winged forms--a hawk--to get a better look as she took to the sky. Sure enough, she could see as she circled closer that a raven was headed to the tower where she'd left that old crone waiting.
She landed back on the balcony, her hawk form dissipating in a cloud of smoke, and set off down the corridor, seeking out Grimhilde once more. The second round of awkward waiting and milling about the lab was blessedly brief, though it was a little unnerving watching the other woman go into a trance after the raven landed in the lab.
Narissa chose instead to study the bird, and found herself contemplating whether or not she ought to get herself a familiar, too, but was quickly shaken from those thoughts by Grimhilde's voice. "Oh! Well, good... What location?"
The Queen wouldn't have noticed Narissa's absence if the other monarch hadn't announced it. She was unaware, too, of her return and had declared she had found the location of her property more to herself than anyone else. Grimhilde was mildly surprised that anyone answered her, in fact. She turned, looking through lengths of patchy, coarse grey hair at Narissa.
Now, though, Grimhilde's air of triumph was quickly dissipating. Her raven fluttered from the stack of books on which it'd landed to perch on one of her hunched shoulders. Replacing contentedness was vexation and a toxic, albeit constrained anger. "Fools," she muttered before she could find it in herself to answer Narissa.
Turning on the spot, she creaked back and forth, pacing. One gnarled hand reached up to smooth the feathers of her raven, who seemed tentative of its mistress. As though it wasn't quite sure whether or not to be afraid of her or glad to see her. "The audacity; the nerve; how dare-?"
Grimhilde stopped, gripping the back of a chair fiercely and centered herself. Opening her eyes slowly, she forcibly recalled all of the resources at her hostess's disposal, and that of the group she was amassing. Surely retrieving her things was possible, in that case? Soothed somewhat by this, she fixed Narissa with a thin smile.
"They've locked it away - all of it - in the castle of my stepdaughter and her prince." The last word was spat like a curse, and there was an unnerving, chilling way she said "stepdaughter" that made the spirits tending the laboratory shudder and drift away from her. The Queen took another bracing breath, then pushed off of the back of the chair and walked toward the door.
"Come along," she said to Narissa. "I need to speak with our generous hostess."
It was unsettling to bear witness to Grimhilde's ire--Narissa was far more used to being the angered party than the one facing their wrath. She took the smallest step back, noting the murderous look flashing in the witch's eyes.
She wasn't intimidated, merely wary. After all, she remembered how cruelly she had treated her servants and courtiers when she had been in such a foul mood, and she had no desire to find out whether this was another similarity shared between herself and Grimhilde. At least, not while she was still within arm's reach of the hag.
At the same time, she could certainly understand Grimhilde's anger--she felt much the same regarding Edward and his wife usurping her throne. She could only hope that they hadn't yet found the secret entrance to her underground lair, though the magical items and spellbooks she'd left in her rooms had now likely been either disposed of or locked away following Tarzan's raiding the castle.
"I'm not one of your servants, you know, you can't give me orders..." She couldn't help grumbling under her breath, even knowing the risk of Grimhilde overhearing and turning her fury on the sorceress. Despite her quiet protestations, however, Narissa followed, quickly catching up with the witch so that they were walking in step. She couldn't let Grimhilde simply take charge--not without a fight.
[Exit Narissa]
Shoutbox Rules
Respect all members and guests
Don't be a know-it-all
No hot button or trigger topics including things like politics and religion
Don't be condescending
Absolutely no advertising
No adult language, cursing, sexual content, or inappropriate links
No spamming or otherwise trolling
No spoilers of any kind
Do not talk specifically about other RPs
Don't start or contribute to drama, this includes pity partying
Shoutbox
Welcome to Happily Ever Afters!
Tony Dracon: Responded to your PM, Kat/Ratigan, incidentally.
Jun 27, 2018 20:25:02 GMT -5
David Xanatos: Kat's back. Hope the vacation was fun.
Jul 21, 2018 21:00:05 GMT -5
Professor Ratigan: 'Twas a good trip! I'm sad it's over, but at the same time I'm glad to be back home so I can finish up my cosplays for a con next month and hang out with my cats
Jul 26, 2018 12:34:56 GMT -5
Basil of Baker Street: Hope the cosplay goes well. I'm putting away a little extra for a con in a few weeks. and yay cats, they're always good company. Except for that one who slaps me unprovoked XD. So what cosplays do you have in mind unless they're secret?
Jul 26, 2018 17:07:41 GMT -5
Professor Ratigan: I'm cosplaying Pearl from Steven Universe and Joseph Joestar from JoJo's Bizarre Adventure!
Jul 26, 2018 23:16:41 GMT -5
Professor Ratigan: I'm almost done both of them, I just have to finish styling Pearl's wig and fix up Joseph's gloves and wristbands
Jul 26, 2018 23:17:31 GMT -5
Basil of Baker Street: Awesome. Had to look up Jojo because I'm not hip with the modern pop culture but I hope they turn out well.
Jul 30, 2018 15:33:15 GMT -5
Professor Ratigan: I only just started watching the anime last year and I haven't even touched the manga, so I'm barely hip with it lol. fortunately I have my cosplay buddy guiding me through the whole experience
Jul 30, 2018 22:29:38 GMT -5
Professor Ratigan: also I finally finished the gloves! They were more of a pain to work with than I expected, but they'll hold together... I hope...
Jul 30, 2018 22:30:13 GMT -5
Basil of Baker Street: Niceness. Hoping they hold also. Got the Dublin comic con next Saturday here. Hoping to meet Karl Urban.
Aug 1, 2018 19:05:32 GMT -5
Professor Ratigan: Cool! I think he's coming to my city in the fall, if I remember correctly. Hope you enjoy the con, Daryl!
Aug 2, 2018 19:10:23 GMT -5
Basil of Baker Street: I spoke too soon. Karl Urban had to cancel for schedule conflicts. They got Nick Frost though, I'm gonna ask him if he'll sign my Hot Fuzz.
Aug 3, 2018 18:08:47 GMT -5
Professor Ratigan: Dang! Nick Frost is great though, I love his character in Into the Badlands
Aug 4, 2018 22:54:36 GMT -5
Basil of Baker Street: Enjoy your weekend Kat, hope the costumes came out as you wanted.
Aug 10, 2018 16:49:31 GMT -5
Basil of Baker Street: Met Nick Frost and Michael Dorn at the weekend. Both very nice blokes.
Aug 13, 2018 15:22:59 GMT -5
Dodger: Happy 2019 everyone
Jan 1, 2019 10:54:04 GMT -5
Yen Sid: If anyone is passing by I posted a Hiatus update. Hope everyone is doing well!
Apr 18, 2021 11:31:09 GMT -5
Yen Sid: I've temporarily disabled account creation while I update the site. Sorry for the inconvenience and thanks for your patience!
May 9, 2021 18:31:45 GMT -5
Owen Burnett/Puck: Checked the site again and saw the update! Here's hoping to a revitalized 2022.
Dec 15, 2021 14:41:27 GMT -5