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www.oopsallwitches.com
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I place upon this altar a window for Ofelia, witch of the Green. Precise, sharp, and willing to end things to maintain balance.
#BlueskyCoven #OopsAllWitches
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I place upon this altar a mural for Emmett, witch of the Heart. Youngest and softest of feeling among her sisters, though most of her short life spent hiding as prey in the wilds of her City.
#Expression #BlueskyCoven #OopsAllWitches
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I place upon this altar a mural for Nia, witch of the Claw. As she did in the Material, so she does in the Aether - fierce protector and defender of her sisters, people, and community.
#Expression #BlueskyCoven #OopsAllWitches
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:: A surprise shift as a wicked smile plays across her face. ::
No, dear heart. You did.
You changed a Truth about your own world. It doesn't matter whether you named it or not. Your witchcraft shaped its form and the key to its cell.
Speaking of hearts, why don't you give me yours?
💠
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No! Don't say its name! Its power lies in the naming and the braiding of Strands!
🧿
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:: Her face goes dark. A creeping shadow from within, finding its way outward, slowly but surely.
:: Her voice is soft, her eyes pleading. ::
I just want it to end.
🧿
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:: She looks to her Twin. She recognizes something lurking underneath their strange-yet-familiar face.
:: It stirs unease in her, an understanding that the thing unwoven could yet weave its way back into the story. ::
The Eye Above. It has you in its gaze.
🧿
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:: She speaks to the High Priestess, though her eyes never waver from the newcomer. ::
I know that witch. I've seen them in the mirror, though it wasn't a mirror.
🧿
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:: The smile drops from her face. Her eyes narrow. ::
Who's this?
🧿
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Oh no. How terrible.
:: She has not stopped smiling. ::
🧿
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Mazey. It's good to see you again.
:: She approaches for an embrace. Sensing the hesitation in its return, she steps back and smiles.
:: It is not reassuring. Maybe it's too wide. Or maybe her teeth look too sharp. ::
You're gathering the Coven? What's happened?
🧿
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publicly-run or cooperative enterprises are entirely compatible with a market economy!
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This is an anthology of black TTRPG designers refusing to parade black pain and expressing themselves, making space for the wide array of forms that blackness takes.
Beautiful. Poignant. Bawdy. Reflective. Rambunctious. Loud. Quiet.
Everything.
That's worth seeing and supporting.
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Just sitting here in CA whooping for y'all
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🫡🫡🫡
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:: She pauses a moment, confused. She heard a voice around the corner, but doesn't know who spoke.
:: After a while, no response comes. ::
Did you cross? Sometimes I can't imagine leaving this place of safety. Sometimes I want to close my eyes and give in.
🧿
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they ignore him at his job so he comes crawling here 😹
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Tell me Twin: what is in the End of All Things?
💠
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... It's gone.
It's moved to the wall beside the mirror. I can't see it there, but I feel it.
Something dark, something cold lurking back there. I feel unwell, dizzy even. Like an iron chain around my neck. I can't even see my reflection some days.
🧿
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There is a shattered mirror. Something that looks like me is in it but the reflection changes. Sometimes it's me. Sometimes something wearing my face.
I put more mirrors on my walls to try and see if I can catch it from another angle.
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