Fairy Tales and Smallpox [totally open]

[Skulls And Pie]

Sitting up against a tall, thick redwood was Rurik, in his usual straitjacket, with his arms stuck tied up in front of him. A loud "DING!", like that of a household appliance that had finished its task, came out of nowhere, for the forest glade didn't have a house around for miles and miles, let alone some household appliance sitting in the middle of it, plugged into a tree. Yet still, a button sounded like it was pressed, and a microwave door could be heard opening. Now one could see a pair of disembodied hands, one plump, the other nothing but skeleton. They were carrying something as they floated, seeming to be an aquamarine bowl. Steam came up from the top as it floated in the hands to Rurik. The hands let go of it, but it kept floating above the crazy boy's lap. "Thank you, Hansel. You seem much better today. Over the cold you had next week?" A pause. "That's good to hear. Okay. Bye-bye."
Floating up in the air from Rurik's side was a silver spoon, which seemed to have had its handle tied in multiple knots. It swooped down, like an airplane getting ready to land, into the airport of macaroni and cheese in the bowl. Now becoming airborne again, it entered Ruriks mouth, getting some of the molten cheese on the side of his lips. He began to chew as the spoon landed again in the bowl, this time not becoming airborne again.

Standing in the middle of the glade was a human sized and human shaped doll, named Rebel. He knelt down in his tattered black pants to a squirrel. "Heus, little one," he said to it, a dry, cracked smirk having been made of the thread of his mouth. He began to sing, softly, "Nothing's gonna harm you, not while I'm around..." In his cloth hand was a tall staff, which had a red orb floating above it. It began to grow as he kept singing, "Nothing's gonna harm you, not while I'm around..." Interrupting himself, he stated under his breath "Yeresinia pestis," before continuing, "Nothing's gonna harm you, not while I'm around..." A black haze engulfed the squirrel before fading. Now the squirrel sat there, growing sicker and sicker as he continued singing. "Nothing's gonna harm you, not while I'm around," he chorused once more, as the squirrel dropped dead as a doornail on the dead grass. A large grey cloud added to the already overcast sky, making the glade darker than it had been before.

[Señor Sunday Friday]

A small child looked around the forest with wide hazel eyes, his messy brown hair hanging in his face. He looked like a sickly child and he was clothed rather plainly, in contrast to the beautiful woman who stood next to him.

Holding the boy's hand was a tall woman of a perfect hourglass figure, she was clothed in a blue outfit reminiscent of Alice in Wonderland, only infused with a bit of Dorothy as well. Put a dash of Hot Topic in there as well and you get the outfit. She wore white arm warmers and her ashen blonde hair fell over her shoulders. Her plump pink lips were curved into a smile as she looked around, "Are you fine, my son?" she asked the boy in a calm voice. She seemed eerie in some odd way that you couldn't quite put your finger on. She sighed as she shook her head, "Don't look so troubled, Alden..." She sounded worried by the tone of her voice and her shook her head, "Don't let those little things worry you so much." she cooed. Her curly blonde hair rippling over her shoulders. To be honest she didn't look like much of a mother, her outfit certainly unsuitable and she looked perhaps twenty one. She had an aura of unbelonging around her, she seemed out of place.

[Skulls And Pie]

Rurik sat against the tree still eating his cheesy pasta, enjoying himself thoroughly in the process. When he finished, the hands reappeared and took the bowl from him, and his spoon disappeared into the space beside him again. "From Wimbleton to Wumbleton," his childish voice began as a sign labeled "WIMBLETON" appeared in the ground, "Is fifteen miles. From Wumbleton to Wimbleton," he continued, a sign pointing in the opposite direction, so the arrows were pointing at one another, appeared reading, "WUMBLETON", also sticking out of the ground, "Is fifteen miles. From Wimbleton to Wumbleton," the signs twisted around one another once, "From Wumbleton to Wimbleton," they twisted again, "From Wimbleton to Wumbleton," they twisted around one another again, "Is fifteen miles." At this, the signs exploded, the stake of one flying straight into the corpse of Rebel's squirrel.

[Señor Sunday Friday]

Alden heard Ruriks magic and he jumped slightly before he broke into a run towards the noise, "Helloooo?" He called out, his eyes looking around wildly for whoever was here. Soon enough though he ended up running straight into Rurik, seemingly coming out of nowhere. "Oh... I'm sorry, sir... are you the one who was making all that noise?" he asked, looking at the ground, nervous around the stranger now that Marilyn was gone... he shouldn't have left Marilyn behind.

"Aldeennnnn" you could hear Marilyn's sweet voice echoing through the forest. Alden clapped his hands and rather suddenly, Marilyn appearned next to Alden, a worried expression on her beautiful face, "Aaaldeee-" Marilyn stopped, "Oh! Alden! There you are!" She smiled kindly, "And who might you be?" She asked, looking towards Rurik, her stance defensive, she was obviously ready to fight anyone that threatened Alden. It was odd seeing the exquisite Marilyn standing next to plain Alden. Alden was just a small boy, no older than twelve with shaggy brown hair and brown eyes, while Marilyn was a slender bodied woman with an angelic grace about her and dressed in the fairest hues of blues and crisp white, her blonde curls rippling over her breasts as her stunning blue eyes looked towards Rurik. Her clothing wasn't something one would define as 'modest' either. Her dress had a rather low neckline and her skirt was probably much too short. Her shoes were maroon mary janes of some sort and her white stockings ran up to her mid thigh. Arm warmers covered her lower arms and she crossed her arms over her chest. Her face held an obvious frown. She didn't like this person very much.

"Mommy... I think he's okay..." Alden said, pulling on Marilyn's sleeve slightly.

Somehow... Marilyn didn't look like a proper mother figure, if you asked Li-Wa.

[Skulls And Pie]

"Oh hello mister and lady. Would you like some tea? Gretel, get the two nice peoples some tea, please." Rurik still sat in his straitjacket dazedly, the remains of the signs still all over the ground. A ghostly little girl, very skinny, was dressed in a very tattered black dress with white bows. Donning her head was a traditional pointed witch's hat, and a pair of shackles dragged with her nimble, elegant feet. "Teeeeatiiime," she called, with a girlish giggle at the end, and with the whistle of a teapot, a tin tea kettle appeared in her hand. "Teacup, teacup," she giggled, and two appeared in the air, into which she poured the tea. "Sweet sweet sugarcubes," she now muttered, as some fell from nowhere, before suspending themselves as if from strings next to the teacups. "And some milky cream... or is it creamy milk?" Another girlish giggle followed as a small white creamer followed the same suit as the sugarcubes, not a drop being spilled. "Thankies, Gretel. Would you like to stay for tea?" Rurik asked, always remembering his manners in a Lovegoodish manner. She nodded with a big smile on her face, and her own cup of tea appeared, and she dropped a sugarcube into it before sipping it, her bandaged hands holding the teacup up to her mouth.

[Señor Sunday Friday]

Alden looked at the tea, but he didn't drink it, he really wasn't thirsty, believe it or not. His brown eyes looked from Rurik to Gretel, "She's... from the story?" he asked, obviously reffering to the tale of Hansel and Gretel. His eyes glimmered with interest and he slowly walked up to Gretel, looking with a child's wonder. He never really expected to see fairytale characters... "What happened to your hands?" He asked, with a sense of worry in his voice.

Marilyn held her cup of tea in her hand and watched, she was very ladylike in her expression now, her emotions seemed in tune with Alden's, though she was certainly more reserved with them. She said nothing as she sat there, somewhat reminiscent of a servant of sorts. There just was something not right about the woman.

[Skulls And Pie]

"Hmm?Oh that," she said, giggling a little more, "It was from when I was a servant of Elder Lieber. She had me clean her collection of swords." She took her cup up again and sipped again. The parts of her arms that weren't covered by her sleeves were covered in sleeves of their own. Whip marks, scars, and burns made her ghostly pale tone hard to see. She continued on, happy as a clam, not seeming to care.
Rurik sat smiling, but a bit bored. He got himself on his feet, which to most would be not an easy task, but he had become used to it. It was definitely good exersize, for his legs were much more toned now that he had the straitjacket. Yawning like a cat, with his mouth taking up his whole face it seemed, he blinked a couple times. "Birdie, birdie, come to me!" he called to the sky. A monstorous, distorted squawk could be heard from miles and miles away. He just stood and waited for his pet "birdie".

In the center of the glade, just the stabbed corpse of the sick squirrel remained, for Rebel had left, probably believing that he had better things to do.

[Señor Sunday Friday]

Alden lowered himself to the ground slightly but he still looked towards Gretel with a worried expression, the loud squawk made him nervous but he really wanted to help the girl, "Can I see the cuts?" He asked, his voice shaking slightly. He seemed to have forgotten about the presence of the others. "I think I might be able to make them all better." He spoke, his voice innocent enough, he really did care about people when they were hurt, mostly women, actually...

Marilyn looked skyward, she waited to see what this 'birdy' looked like, her bright eyes looking towards Rurik, her sweet face looking over the straight jacket for a few moments, "Do you need some help as well?" she asked, her voice a sweet melody and she lightly touched her hand on the sleeve of the straightjacket, implying she intended to help him free his arms*