the glass would glow and sing depending on the moons,
and on the things it felt through the feet of dancers, and what was poured on it.
you once poured the last of your wine onto a pattern shaped like a moth
and it bathed you in sapphire light, and the song it sang
pulled the breath from your lungs like an undertow.right now, with only blood to drink, the glass is wailing.

They say there was a man in love with a witch.Cursed with a kiss, all he could do was think about her. And yet, despite all his attempts to woo her, no matter what he pledged - his home, his wealth, his life - nothing would win her over. Finally, one day he came on bended knee and begged for an answer, and she responded as plain as day."Only when you give me the sea will I give you my hand."So that was just what he did. Sailing across the world, he took everything he could, and with the witch's favor on his side none could stop him. When his claim over the sea was undisputed, he finally returned to his beloved witch, wedding rings in hand.But by then, it was too late.The sea had heard his affections, their promise, their love... and who could blame it for falling in love all the same? While he was gone, the sea took her for it's own.She had drowned, long before he reached the shore.The pirate was never to be seen again, sailing into the mists never to return.As for his bride... it's said she still haunts the shores. Summoned by a promise made over seawater, if she finds you worthy of his claim, you'll be blessed. Fair winds, smooth trade, protection from even the greatest storms. However, be warned. If she finds you lacking...May the goddess have mercy on your soul.

Race: Divinity
Height: Just above the horizon
Age: Ageless
Gender: The Ocean
Pronouns: She/It
Orientation: Those who give onto her without fear
Relationship Status: Betrothed, forevermore
Residence: Where the sea kisses the shore
Occupation: Bride, Witch, Goddess

The Pirate's Bride is not one spoken of lightly.Out on the sea, and between the docks of trade posts, her name is spread with hushed voices and reverent tones - though never without fear. Known to sell storms and sorrows and stranger still, Weeping Meadow is a powerful witch who dabbles in all manner of practices. Her magics are unlike any other, and with her undeniable affinity for the sea, she's an invaluable contact for any sailor in need.Though, one should always be careful if they're interested in the Witch of the Waves. Rumor has it, she's as capricious as the ocean herself, and tends to take things much stranger than coin....

Sailor's Superstitions - Have you heard the tale of the witch who blesses the waters, said to have made countless pirates all they are? Or maybe the woman who gave herself to the sea, bending fate for any ship she chooses? Curious if your offering made it the rest of the way? All a sailor ought to do is ask.Blessings For Sale - For those who move in dangerous circles, her name is spoken with dread and wonder in equal measure. Known for her odd magical practices, it's said she can perform miracles and horrors unlike any other, from molding flesh to birthing strange beasts to having the tempest at her fingertips. Better yet, she's more than willing to sell her services to others... should they be willing to pay the price, of course.Drowning - Even when moving silently amongst the masses, the witch does not belong. Her tells can slip like any other secret - cold as ice to the touch, sharks teeth lining her mouth, gills upon her neck and sides, and aether dark enough to drown out any light it touches. Something is very, very wrong with her. I wonder... do you happen know why?Kindred - Even she is not alone. There are others bound to the sea in all manner of forms, by blood, duty, even marriage, the same as her. You feel it too, don't you? Looking into her eye, there's no doubt - you speak with the sea, itself. Choose your words wisely, now.

Once upon a time, there was a little girl who was too much.Everywhere she went, she never quite fit. "You eat too much of our food," Said her parents. "You read too fast in my lesson," Said her teacher. "Your ears are too big," Said the kids of the village. No matter what she did, she was too much for them.One day, the village kids were playing when they kicked a ball too hard. It flew to the top of the hill, and they were too scared to get it back. The whole village knew a wicked witch lived on that hill, and to never go there or she'd gobble you up. So, when the little girl passed by, they demanded she go up the hill and get the ball instead. She had no choice but to do ask she was told.When she entered the spooky house, sneaking into the basement, she saw her. A woman, taller than anyone in her village, ears so much bigger than hers, her clothes so much brighter than any others. She stood over a cauldron, just as bright, and spoke to the girl without even looking. "Come, take your fill," She said, offering a spoon her way.The little girl was scared, but took a sip, and it was better than anything she had ever tasted. "But why do you have so much?" She asked, both amazed and confused. The witch smiled, and answered, "So that I will always have more for those who need it." The little girl began to cry, and the witch held her in her arms and they never ever let go.Why would they, when they both had so much to give?

Race: Viera, Rava
Height: Towering
Age: Unknown
Gender: Nonbinary Woman
Pronouns: She/Her
Orientation: Fathers, Aunts
Relationship Status: Looking to settle down
Residence: In her big, big house high on the hill
Occupation: Mother, Teacher, Miracle Worker

Weeping Meadow is a witch.This confuses people who meet her. Aren’t witches evil and ugly? She’s kind and elegant and beautiful. But the Witch of the Deep dwells in an old house, and the basement opens into her garden of petals and ponds, and it’s there that she spills blood and grinds bone and forms clay into miracles."Blood and bone?" Some ask timidly, "Is she cursing us?""No darlin', they're not curses at all - these are full of love," She says, spreading black-ink-stained lips into a tender smile. "They keep us safe, all of my children safe, no matter what," She continues as she looms, tall and boundless, taller than her frame could contain, in the corner of her haunted house.She loves them just the same.

Picking Up Strays - More than a little bit of a mother hen, she seems to take in more strays with each passing day. With a soft spot for young ones and any who seem to need a nurturing presence in their life, she's quick to claim any she takes a fondness to as hers, swooping them away to her little nest. She's often all too eager to bring another into her family, for better and worse... and perhaps even her apprenticeship, should you be interested in her craft.Pride and Joy - Any parent knows how easy it is to start gushing, and she's no different. The moment she gets on the topic, its difficult to steer herself away, you'll have to forgive her. Oh, you have children yourself? What are their names, do you have pictures? Isn't that just darling - its so rare to find people who get it, these days.Worries - When love comes without end, grief follows just as easy. Its so difficult to see them struggle, even worse to feel disconnected from them, to suddenly stop having the right words, the right ways to help. And when tragedy strikes... well, best not to linger on that part. Not while its still so raw.Pitter-Patter - For all her many, many children, not one she's gotten to raise, herself. Perhaps from late teenhood, sure, but never before that, even with those of her own blood. Worse still, every one of them comes to her with sorrows she can't dote away. It would bring her no greater joy to have another, one she could give the world from the start. Of course, such a task is quite the ordeal, and one needs to be prepared. The nesting part comes easy to her - it's the doubt that gets in the way.

You're not really gonna for for her, are ya?C'mon, you saw that look. She's probably just as cold. Nah, nah don't give me that shit. I don't care if she was Menphina reborn, she ain't nothin' but trouble. You see how the barkeeps sweatin' bout her, prolly out here every night, you ain't want none'a that, trust me.Look, I don't know. I just been hearin' things, 's all.No, like, 'bout her. My cousin' said her friend's brother's uncle went over, made friendly, 'n that woman lead him off into the wood. When he came back, had scars all over his body. Wild ones, like some animal got him. Won't tell a soul what happened since.I don't know how she heard it! I'm not making it up, I'm tellin' ya straight. I care 'bout ya, man.What? How the fuck she look familiar? What runs you been makin'?For real? Then why'd she be all the way in gods forsaken nowhere, gettin' a dirtyass whiskey at 4 am? If she's who I think she is, and all you're sayin's true, ain't none'a this make any sense.Fine, whatever. I don't give a shit. Jus' don't come cryin'a me when she breaks your heart again.

Race: Of the Wood
Height: 6'7
Age: Somewhere in her 60's most likely, despite apperances
Gender: Viale, a Priestess
Pronouns: She/They
Orientation: Like a moth to danger of any kind
Relationship Status: Pouring her heart out into any she chooses
Residence: The only place that can hold all of her, Maiden's Rest
Occupation: Apothecary, Ritualist, Arcane Scholar

Weeping Meadow is just an old woman.Not some bitter crone, at least, not on the outside. Most wouldn't place her a day over twenty, but there isn't anything here new. Old pains, old lessons, the same old mistakes and a long, long history to frame it all - one she's still trying to make sense of, herself.Most of it isn't very kind - the years have been hard on her. And yet, despite it all - or perhaps because she so keenly knows its absence - she is impossibly warm and sweet and loving. While guarded, she has nothing but love for those who can get past her walls. Those who make her feel safe enough to let them down, to be vulnerable, and to rest.But that part always was the problem, wasn't it?

Brave Soul - No stranger to a good dive bar, she's prone to stop at any she can find, especially by the sea. Often enough, she's even able to go unrecognized in the smoky atmosphere - her favorite kind. Of course, whether you know who she is or not, it doesn't make buying her a drink any less daunting - or those who do any less amusing.Rough and Tumble - She has a history with mercenary types, though she'd never admit it... at least without a few drinks, first. Its left her with a fondness for the sort and a nostalgia for all the dirt and blood - some of her last few uncomplicated comforts. While she may have left that life a long time ago, it certainly hasn't left her.What's in a Name? - While not her truest name, a viera carrying the name of a hellsguard is certainly a story. Not one she'd tell, though. Even so, it doesn't hide the fact that the name rings true - any keen eye can see the weight behind her own, the weight on her shoulders. She's tired, some old weariness she's learned to wear well. However, not enough to untangle it, clearly, quick to brush off any concern and turn the tables. One day, she'll speak. Might one day, you'll listen.Of the Painted Wood - On her face sits distinctive tattoos, a telltale mark of her origin to any of the culture who know it's significance - she is of Erana-ese, the village of Painted Wood. The rest it tells... well, its better left unspoken. It doesn't need to be spoken to be understood, though, by any viera who share the same scars.

Playlist

Theme of the Witch

Theme of the Mother

Theme of the Lover

The playlist is an introduction to her, then follows her life, her story, her feelings. I highly recommend you listen in order, it's very much worth the transitions and overall journey through the character.The character themes are less narratively relevant, but are perfect for getting across the various vibes of each facet of her for a nice overview.

Moodboard

The rest of her moodboard is on her character aesthetic page on tumblr. There's plenty there that gives a much better insight on her - both serious in tone and light - so if you're curious, go check it out.

Hey

My name's Elsewhere (she/they), and I'm a twenty-something black, queer person who likes to roleplay. I don't bite unless you're a cop and am almost always looking for more writing partners, so hit me up @corpsedoll on Discord or Weeping Meadow on Mateus if you want to rp.Weep is probably my longest running character, and clearly one with a lot of depth to her. No one facet is less true a side of her than another, they aren't separate personalities, they're just the roles she's chosen for herself and the masks she wears. The whole of her is somewhere at the center of them all, something that needs to be pieced together instead of seen. I don't share everything about her on this carrd, but that doesn't mean I don't want to talk about it or plan things out. I love being on the same page and being explicit about intent and where we want our stories to go, so don't hesitate, just ask.Character Themes - Gothic tones, trauma and healing, diaspora, ghosts (both personal and otherwise), otherworldly expression, crime as rebellion, beauty in the grotesque, love/grief, femme horror, the blurry line between natural and supernatural.

What I want - While I'm down for most RP, but I'm mostly interested in more mature stories, long-term relationships and character drama. I love romance, both tense and comforting connections, sordid pasts, everyday struggles, and especially the occult or taboo. I'm less interested in the grandiose, and more in the personal - the intimate and sometimes harder stories to tell.Expectations - Weeping's story is one of a person, first and foremost. She is made to feel real, and I'd like rp partners to be the same. Along with that, she is very heavily black-coded, and I will require you to take that into account with how she's spoken about. While darker themes and subject matter are rad, if you want to play out anything even remotely violent or sexual, we'd need to talk it over first. Communication is absolutely the most important part of roleplay, and I'll expect you to value it as highly as me.Absolutely no - Spontaneous ERP. No fetishizing my or my character's skintone. If you even say the word chocolate, I'm liable to block you. Weeping Meadow is trans and intersex, and if this is a problem for you or if you fetishize these facts at all, fuck right off.