In a land much like ours...

Banwalt, one of the four marshes of Harlant, 1622. While the newest heir to the Arzswin family is trying to gain influence over the city, the once renowned city guard is struggling to keep theirs as the need for grand adventure steadily declines. Even in a world in which magic is commonplace, people are afraid of change.

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Herbal Witch

- Commoner

Played by Vermin
Joined: 18-March 17
Status: (Offline)
Last Seen: May 9 2017, 12:46 PM
Local Time: May 22 2018, 10:16 PM
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( 2.04% of total forum posts )
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Joséphine Lémieux


My Content
Apr 5 2017, 03:05 PM
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<p>As the underbrush was hitting against his knees and the light of his mother's hut was nothing but a memory in the dark of the trees, Joséphine thought to himself, "Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe I should go home." He felt the cool stone in his hand, the smooth surface cool against his warm skin. Of course, he trudged on. The tears on his cheeks had not yet dried. </p><p>

He walked on, clad in a thick coat made of fine leather, weathering against the autumn wind. He walked until he could feel the magic around him change, twist into something non-human; an all too familiar feeling. Living so close to the forest meant living among those who were the other, the magical; the folk. He knew few of them personally, less still by name; but he knew that of all the creatures in this world, they were those closest to nature and magic itself. </p><p>

This was why now, at the dawn of darkest night, he was walking towards the forest, away from a warm mother. He simply had to ask - had to know - had to find - Of, if it would all be so simple! Joséphine made halt in the middle of a small clearing, bathed in the oncoming light of the stars. He took a deep breath, and let his magic announce his presence. </p><p>

<b>"Hello?"</b>, he spoke, a trembling in his voice. <b>"Please, if you're here - owners, guardians - no, citizens"</b>, his voice broke off, then he started again, louder this time. <b>"Citizens of the forest, please, reveal yourself to me! I am Joséphine, son of the witch by the oak, and I have - uhm, I have a request!"</b></p>

Apr 2 2017, 02:28 PM
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<h1 style="margin-top: 10px;">what change reveals</h1>
<h2>Completely Open</h2><p>

I'm looking for someone willing to have a character be turned into a frog (or other small animal) by my witch, Joséphine. He's an excellent potion maker, but he's struggling much with the practical application of magic, and turning something into an animal is just the kind of mishap that would happen to him in his pursuits. <p>

Your character could either have asked (and paid) Joséphine for a blessing or other charm that's gone horribly wrong, or if they're a real prick, have Phine turn them intentionally. Either way, he doesn't know how to turn them back, and it's gonna be a while until he figures out how. </p><p>

I do plan to have him figure it out eventually, but it will take a few threads to get there, and the IC minimum length of half a year. Whether your character gets help elsewhere first, or doesn't even want to turn back in the end is all up to you and what happens in play.

</div><div style="margin: -7px 0 10px; text-align: center; font: italic normal normal 8px/90% arial, sans-serif; letter-spacing: 1px;"><a href="">THANKS</a></div>[/dohtml]
Mar 23 2017, 05:52 PM
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<div class='infoleft'>24</div>
<div class='infoleft'>Herbal Witch</div>
<div class='infoleft'>Human</div>
<div class='infoleft'>App</div>
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<p>Joséphine is a bright young witch specialized in the crafting and brewing of potions. During his mother's absence, he has taken over the business and resides over her apprentices and affairs. Every quarter year he takes two weeks of his time to travel - he is convinced that he is lacking a critical aspect of magic, and searches high and low for it.</p>

<p>He is a pleasant conversation partner and happiest in company, stubborn as a mule and prone to droning on about subjects close to his heart. Phine sets harsh standards for themselves and expects the same from their companions, while also being reliant on them - often deeply so.</p>

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<td style="width: 25%; fonts-size: 14; font-family: arial, sans serif; text-align: center; border: solid 1px #5aa2ce;">About Vermin</td>
<td style="font-size: 12; font-family: arial, sans serif; text-align: justify; padding: 5px;">I prefer short to medium posts (I usually write 3 max). I don't post splice, it's fine if you do. Open to all plots. </td>
Mar 18 2017, 04:54 PM
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<div class="roar">Joséphine Lémieux</div>
24 // Commoner // He / They
Kräuterhexe // Witch // Vermin
"Maman, where are the flowers during wintertime?" "They are hiding beneath the frost, my child."

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<p>Once upon a time there lived a boy at the outskirts of a large forest. This forest had trees much, much older and far, far mightier than the little house he and his mother called home and was itself home to many creatures, big and small. The boy grew up surrounded by nature, but enjoyed much of the pleasantries of the city. His mother was a renowned and powerful witch, whose expertise was sought after in many of the villages close by, and rewarded with food, rare resources and fine cloth. Apprentices who came from Banwalt and the nearby counties brought with them new knowledge, and the boy learnt many things from them, and much enjoyed their stories of the bustling city life. </p>

<p>As the boy matured, and realized quite early that he was not always one, the childlike fascination of vivid nature that had surrounded him all his life turned into an ambition, and he was swiftly tutored by his mother in the art of magic, medicine and potion making. He soon succeeded one of her less successful apprentices and delighted in assisting his mother in her work. But while the boy showed talent and enthusiasm for working with all kinds of plants, he had trouble working traditional, practical aspects of magic. As this pained his mother greatly, so did it the boy. </p>

<p>At the age of twenty-one, the boy who was not always a boy had still not achieved a level of practical magic his mother could approve on, and while she was careful to never openly admit to her dismay, he felt it nonetheless. Soon after his twenty-second birthday, the witch left to work her magic in far-off parts of the country. The boy was left alone in the house near the outskirts of the woods, now in charge of his mother’s apprentices and unfinished affairs. </p>

<p>It has been three years since his mother had left, and the boy, who was now a young man, was still not satisfied with his magic. He had learnt much over the past few years, poured over book after book, knew of many approaches and applications of magic. But no matter how much he practiced, the essence of it continued to elude him. The young man made a decision: He would travel the march, the city and the forest as far as he could go either direction within a week’s time, and converse with witches and those who knew magic and those who have done so from birth, and find what he was lacking so he would acquire it. Accompanied by his apprentices, he took a week to travel every quarter year. </p>


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<p>Joséphine Lémieux is a reliable young man who was brought up in a sheltered but loving environment by his mother, an accomplished witch. He is book-smart and what one might call a sensitive soul; a person that is privy to subtle changes in attitude and is most happy with happy company. He prefers weighing his options carefully before making a decision – but once he has arrived at a conclusion, he is stubborn as a mule and hard to be swayed from his point of view. </p>

<p>For all his good traits, Joséphine can be difficult and exhausting to have as company. In his search for inner balance and the pursuit of knowledge he is ruthless, and in his desperation to find what he is missing he relies (too) much on others to ground him. As he is harshly critical of himself, he applies the same standards to others and will unintentionally drive them even past exhaustion.</p>


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Berwinde (Convolvulus arvensis); [noun] [sg]. Field bindweed, Ackerwinde. <br></br>

<p>: a wild plant with white and pink flowers that twists itself around other plants as it grows; </p>
<p>: a twining plant with trumpet-shaped flowers, several kinds of which are invasive weeds;</p>
<p>: a memory of a simpler time, a childhood both sheltered and free; wrapped around it strands of white berwinde.</p> <br></br>

Bearbind (Convolvulus sepium); [noun] [sg]. Old Man’s Nightcap. <br></br>

<p>: a perennially growing herb-like plant having climbing and spiraling stems that bear alternative leaves</p>
<p>: a feeling as if one can only circle around, but never grasp firmly </p>
<p>: the devil is in the details </p><br></br>

Joséphine (Convolvulus sapiens sapiens); [proper noun] [sg]. Son. Friend. Master. <br></br>

<p>: a young man of twenty-four that twists himselvaround other’s knowledge as it grows; </p>
<p>: a continually growing witch-like person having climbing and spiraling aspirations that bear alternative results</p>
<p>: a being unable to be content with themselves </p><br></br>


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Vermin - UTC +1 - They/Them <br></br>




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