Rebirth

Since when does Bertha do therapy?!

I was watching Lauren's episode, and I don't know why, but Bertha has started doing therapy???

How long has that been happening? Has anyone tried getting therapy from Bertha?

I NEED TO KNOW

Gaia's Curse

The vines dug into his skin sometimes. An unhelpful reminder of what he had lost.

They were like chains, in a way.

He tried not to think about it. Tried not to think about how his hair changed; from a bright cyan to a pale ivory tainted with blotches of red.

Every time he passed a body of water and gazed at his reflection, he couldn't help but think he looked familiar. He remembered fangs, long and pointed and sometimes uncomfortable in his mouth. He recalled how similar his cloud jump was to abilities he'd long forgotten; sometimes he'd jump up into the air and think about switching places with an angel.

But, as far as he knew, no one on the server was an angel. No one he knew closely.

Sometimes he would feel hungry. Phantom-hunger, if you will. Because he didn't need to eat anymore. But he'd still wish he could eat.

He'd probably kill to be able to enjoy the taste of cabbage rolls or pumpkin soup.

Would probably kill himself in order to get it.

As he sat on the balcony of his house, staring at the starry sky, he remembered.

He didn't remember anything specific; all the memories were murky, and most of the faces were blurred to the point where they couldn't be recognised. But he took note of other details. Like cod, cats called Norman, fields of poppies. Kingdoms of snow and golden antlers. Of rat tails, attics and giant feline catastrophes. Of necromancy, loneliness and dances with time.

They all mixed together in a strange cocktail of memories that both were and weren't his.

Scott clutched at an ache in his chest; a yearning for knowledge.

He sighed and looked up at the sky. Running his tongue along his teeth, he could almost imagine feeling fangs. But they weren't there. Because he was a fungal mage.

His hands itched. The pain of hurting a mob - he couldn't be bothered to remember which one - pulsed through his veins. Gaia had cursed him in that moment. He'd hurt someone, betrayed being a 'peace keeper' and paid the price for it.

How many people had he upset in the past?

Gaia, goddess of the earth. Mother Nature. She had given birth to the Titans and Giants. A powerful entity that was not to be messed with under any circumstances.

There were others, too. In a past life long ago, he'd killed an angel. And as a result, he was cursed to burn in the sun.

His own patron god, Aeor, and his brother Exor. How long had he been a devoted worshipper of the Stag Gods? How much of his life had he dedicated to following Aeor's wishes, to pleasing him, to keeping people safe, for nothing? Because he did everything in the end. He was the one to seal the demon away at the cost of his own life. And neither of the gods batted an eye.

He'd upset Them, too. Hundreds of pairs of eyes that Watched eternally. They despised him because he refused to play Their games properly. So he was made to constantly outlive his closest allies. Other than one.

Scott was a danger. To himself and to everyone around him.

The vines - nay, chains - dug into his skin.

He deserved them. He deserved the chains, for they were keeping him from hurting others. A criminal, a thief, a killer - all of those titles belonged to him - deserved the chains that kept them contained. That shackled them to their crimes.

He took a glance at the moon, and the stars surrounding it.

The moonlight shone down on him in a warm embrace. As did the stars.

The stars seemed to form a halo around Scott's head.

Scott curled up and allowed his eyes to droop shut.

Gaia's curse, as all the other curses placed upon him, would never leave him.

Beach Day

The sun in Tumble Town was scorching. The air was hot and heavy as tumbleweeds rolled through the streets. The tavern teemed with life, many coming to hear stories or play games or just to relax with a drink and forget about their troubles. Children ran about playing games within their imagination; some took on the roles of mighty dragons or fearless warriors, powerful witches and royalty. No tiny corner of stories was free from the whimsical nature of each fickle child running amok.

And away from it all, down at the lagoon, two rulers were finally starting to relax.

Sausage wasted no time in gleefully diving into the water. With a comically large grin on his face, he plunged into the lagoon and let out a mighty laugh as the cool water collided with his skin. He resurfaced, shaking his head. His hair, now wet, fell over his eyes, some parts sticking to his forehead.

Scott followed soon after. A peculiar mix of reckless elegance, he leapt into the water with a ginormous splash. The water felt natural around his skin. Familiar and inviting. For a second he could feel the phantom feeling of scales on his skin and gills. But just as quick as it came, the feeling dispersed like a school of fish approached by a predator. He, too, resurfaced with a calm grin. His eyes sparkled with delight.

The two rulers laughed. They could forget their duties to their homes for now. Because they weren't rulers at the moment. They were just two friends enjoying themselves on a hot day.

Neither had paid much attention to the cod statue. It set off an untouched part of their minds, scratching at an itch they didn't even know existed. Seeing the statue felt satisfying, in some way. They couldn't explain the feeling that washed over them, but chose to blame it on the heat and the water.

And as Scott had pointed out, their tattoos did form a heart. A heart of colour and vibrancy, and of a floral beauty rooted to the earth. The whimsy of magic and all of its bizarre and wondrous reaches, and the nature of existence in sentience and material.

It didn't take long for Jimmy to spot them both. Seeing two shirtless men at a lagoon wasn't exactly common in Tumble Town. Nor were the tattoos that either man possessed. No resident in Tumble Town had a tattoo so bright and colourful, nor one so floral and rooted. He was able to identify both of these men almost immediately.

They welcomed Jimmy with open arms and a bright smile. And after a bit Jimmy joined them in the water with the (mandatory) adopted goblin child with him.

Soon afterwards fWhip joined them. And whilst the goblin ruler did not really go in the water that much, he was still pleasant company.

And even though the sun was setting, it had no effect on the quartet. No sunset would dampen their joy because their joy reached further than the farthest horizons.

Alas, they had to depart. They did have their own homes to rule after all.

But they wouldn't forget their beach day, no matter how distant and foggy that memory would become.

Legal Rights and Murder

This wasn't good.

Not in the point of view for the court, anyways. Killing the person who decided to sue you wasn't a good look. At all. It just made him look really guilty and...pretty much made him lose any chance he'd had of avoiding being sued.

Ah well.

To be fair, he usually marked lots of things, and he'd completely forgotten about...that. It just wasn't very memorable! The guy sued him for counts of murder (that weren't accurate, he'd killed more animals than that) and for having a scottish accent, as well as a lack of empathy towards animals.

Well, he was sorry for the creatures that had to put up with him. Sorry for the animals that everyone on the server practically kidnapped and shoved into a pen to breed until it wasn't good enough, and then slain.

He certainly wasn't the worst person on the server. After all, Jimmy had put his sheep in his already-cramped house, as well as replacing parts of his floor with dirt and using it to grow crops. He'd helped fWhip and Sausage with grabbing those villagers! A tiresome affair really, especially with all the countless teleporting he did.

Maybe, if he played his cards right, he could find a way around this like he could with getting out of sticky situations. Mark a few people, do enough scare-teleports and perhaps he can get some friends to help him out. Forcibly, if the need arose.

He wasn't going to let himself go down that easy.

---

He was furious!

The darkness had suffocated him, a stark contrast to where he'd been before. The squelching sculk underfoot clawed at his ankles in an angered grasp, squeezing and scratching. The Warden barrelled towards him, the souls trapped within its chest pulsing brightly.

He felt his body practically disintegrate. Within moments he was dead and buried. All because he'd been unlucky. Because he'd made the mistake of letting someone mark him, and he'd paid the price for it. He should've kept himself at a distance. Should've made a glass barrier between them. Anything to prevent being marked.

But who was he kidding? The guy gave him gifts before reading the book saying he'd be sued! He'd gulped down the lump of guilt in his throat as everything conspired.

He wouldn't let himself make that mistake a second time. Not again. No, when he respawned he'd be far more careful. If he wasn't, then he may be the first to die permanently. How many lives did he even have left? How many did everyone have left? How much longer did everyone have to live, lives to use up, before inevitably perishing?

He didn't know.

The darkness had suffocated him and spat him out.

Running Again

Scott hated this. He hated having to run. It was tedious after a short while. He couldn't go to anyone; not when everyone was a Red, prepared to kill him in order to gain more time and extend their own lifespan.

Only Martyn could be trusted. No one else.

He braced himself, hearing Joel's shouts from the distance behind him. Scott had time. Well, not really, but there was still an inkling of spare seconds he could use to think. It would be getting harder and harder to avoid those on Red. Yellows like him were pretty much non-existent. So he was alone whilst Martyn was gone. Martyn couldn't help him right now.

Clenching his fists, Scott sighed to himself. His breath was cold, turning to wisps of condensation. It twirled as it flew up and away. Unlike Scott, the wind was free. He envied it with every fibre of his being. There'd been times when everyone had been peaceful. When everyone on the server had been Green or Yellow. Those times, however unsteady or fragile they were, were the only times that Scott was able to live without as much of a target on his back.

Now he was practically a walking advertisement for time. An easy target.

He was tired. And since he was tired, anyone could just swoop down and kill him. It didn't even have to be Joel. It could be Grian. Scar. Cleo. Etho. Impulse. Maybe even Martyn, if he was desperate and bloodthirsty enough. Scott wouldn't have the comfort of safety. Not while he was Yellow.

Secretly, he hoped no one could get the time. The thought was present at the back of his mind. It started off as a mere passing idea that wouldn't hold any value. But slowly that small idea began to build and build, growing taller and taller until it was almost a fully fledged out plan. It wouldn't be hard either. He just had to jump. Maybe poison himself with a pufferfish first. So many options. So many methods.

"Scott!" Joel yelled, running around aimlessly. But he was beginning to spot him. And if Joel spotted him, Scott was as good as dead.

It was now or never. Give Joel the hours, or nobody gets them.

He took a deep breath.

Why was he hesitating?

Scott's hands gripped the pufferfish bucket tightly. He dumped it onto the ground, and waited until he felt the pufferfish poison him. Scooping it back up into the bucket, Scott stared down at the ground beneath him. If he did it right, then he could die.

That was what he needed. To die.

Joel had almost reached him. He'd found Scott and rushed forward with fiery desperation in his eyes. Scott could almost see the blood on Joel's hands. The bloodthirst. There was something sinister about him in the way that only Reds could be sinister. A hidden malice that none could obtain unless they had the urge to kill coursing through their veins.

With a glimpse up at the moon and a nod, Scott leapt off the edge.

The Florist and The Curse

"Do you really want me to hit you again?" Jimmy asked, standing on the terracotta mound, as the grass bled into the mesa. His arm was on his hip, chin jutting out proudly, with his other hand resting at his his side holding the hilt of his sword.

"I mean, you only did, like, a heart and a half of damage," Scott said with a shrug. He wasn't scared of Jimmy, no matter what the Red Life tried. He knew Jimmy for what he had been and who he is now; a kind, loyal and energetic man with room in his heart for everyone yet no one at all. "After all that-"

"Do you really want me to hit you again?" Jimmy repeated, more sternly this time. A muscle in his jaw ticked.

"-effort." Scott finished.

"You really want me to try again?" His voice grew deeper, slightly confused but remained firm and threatening.

"I mean, is your task to just hurt me? I'm so confused." Scott blurted out. "Also by shouting a weird catchphrase of 'the florist is gonna get me."'

"Yeah?" Grinning, Jimmy edged a little closer. There was a hazardous tone to his voice that set Scott's nerves on edge. He couldn't help it.

"You have thirty seconds."

The memory of the previous game left a bitter taste in his mouth. Obviously Martyn deserved the win. That was never in doubt. But being stabbed in the chest, then burned alive by his closest ally was not on Scott's bucket-list.

Nor was having Jimmy betray him like that. But, ah well.

He moved on.

Scott hadn't, cursed with too many memories and burdened with pain, blood and remembrance.

"Okay." Scott said. He gently tapped his heels against the horse's sides, urging it a little back. "I- is that your name, The Florist?"

"N- no? Dunno what you're talking about." Jimmy tilted his head like a puppy, his hair falling over his eyes. The usual honey brown was rimmed with bloody red.

"Oh, 'kay, okay." His horse moved further back, at his own insistence.

"Watch your back, Scott, alright? Watch your back." Jimmy warned.

Scott didn't stick around much longer after that.

---

He watched Lizzie fail to kill him. He knew it from the moment she tried to have him step up to the ledge; it was obvious from how her voice was pitched, the tone, the way her hands seemed to twitch urgently at her sides.

Scott hadn't thought she would fall. Maybe trip a little, get hit by an Enderman.

But not fall.

He heard the crackling of the lightning bolt and looked away as it struck at the empty Void, the space where Lizzie had fallen. In her memory and honour, Scott listened to the rolling boom of the thunder that followed.

Jimmy's curse was gone.

The Canary Curse was broken.

He felt something bubble in his throat, a hoarse laugh of joy and pain mixed together in a horridly lovely cocktail. He thought of how Jimmy would react to it. He thought of the shocked widening of his eyes and how his mouth would fall a little. He imagined the shocked huff of breath, pursued by hysteric giggles as he ran forth and proudly declared the curse gone.

Scott was happy for him, truly.

...He still had questions about the whole 'florist' thing, but at least Jimmy had lost his curse.

It was an odd feeling, when it happened. Scott looked fondly upon the last game because of the tether that had snapped when he'd died; the knowledge that the curse was broken, that he'd no longer have to live until all his allies and friends were gone, that the weight had finally been lifted, had relieved him.

He had laughed and smiled and actually felt happy for the first time in years.

Two curses down. Now to break the rest of them.

Homesickness and Experimentation

The Nether was truly perilous.

Two lives had been lost to the cruel domain. It stole and stole the life that organisms thrived upon, and stole even more. The Nether stripped its inhabitants of all things that linked them to any other dimension. The Nether was a horrid entity that hungered for all creatures that wandered in and out of its realm to become one with its lands.

Scott knew this well. But he still needed the resources.

The transporter entered the Nether with a vague knowledge of it. Lava tended to be everywhere, so he couldn't just teleport freely like he could on the Overworld. Monsters of all kinds resided here, too, and there were certain requirements to fulfil in order to ensure he didn't get attacked.

So, hastily crafting a pair of golden boots and pulling them onto his feet, he continued on.

He landed somewhere beautiful. Because whilst the Nether was dangerous and unforgiving, it was beautiful in a way no other dimension could be. Scott had been spat out of his portal in a corner of the Nether with greenish-blue and pearly colours everywhere. The warm hues of the faded light of lava cast contrasting tones of light onto the cool-coloured area.

Looking down at his body, pale and adorned with colours of teal and orange, there was the strange feeling that he somewhat belonged here. As if, somehow, this area was made with him in mind. Or perhaps he had been created in the image of this part of the Nether.

But he wasn't in the right area. So, Scott attempted to return home via the sheep he'd marked before his departure.

...

Nothing. He was just in a different area. The generic part of the Nether, with lava flowing everywhere, the dull crimson of netherrack and the faint growls of creatures.

Scott tried again. Tried teleporting back home again.

Still nothing. There was still lava everywhere. The heat was absolutely scorching. If he'd been Martyn, he probably wouldn't have survived more than a couple minutes.

Well. All he could do now was make his own portal and see where on the Overworld he ended up.

Only, he didn't have obsidian on him. Not enough for a return portal.

This was going to be a long day. Or was it nighttime?

---

Sparrow had been working for hours.

Staring at the machinery, hoping it would assemble itself, he let his mind wander. This may not work. He may not be able to get powers like this. After all, there was no guarantee that he actually was a hybrid.

Although he remembered, before his journey here, that some people used questionable means in order to attain powers. Dangerous ones. Ones that were severely unethical.

But if that was all it took, was it not worth it?

With a tired sigh, he stood up. Sparrow's mind was not in a good place. That was why he was considering something so ridiculous. What good could be done by experimenting on himself? Or any hybrid nearby? All that would come of it would be pain and dead ends.

At least, that was what he'd been taught.

But what if it actually worked? Sure, it was probably rude to kidnap and experiment on your neighbours. But maybe he could take someone who didn't know who he was? That would make it hurt less on both sides. Sparrow couldn't imagine experimenting on the hybrids he knew. Seeing Sausage or Scott in a cage, the colour drained from them, their usually upbeat and chaotic energies dampened by fatigue or whatever things he'd done to them would be horrible.

Even if Sausage had done a lot of bad stuff, Scott was a bit of a nuisance from time to time.

The nicer hybrids he knew would be destroyed. A husk of their former selves. Lifeless.

The thought made him shiver.

Sparrow approached a tree. He'd heard of hybrids with the ability to fly in the past. Maybe he could trigger a reaction by jumping from a tree, or trying to mimic bird behaviours?

Before he could process it, he was already halfway up the tree. He kept going. Sparrow reached the top of the tree. Falling from this height would likely break a limb. Or, in a truly severe case, maybe even kill him if he was careless. The tree was much taller than he had thought.

Without a second thought, Sparrow jumped.

---

Scott had been searching for hours.

His stomach ached painfully. He'd been eating soup and cabbage rolls as his usual diet, but the Nether seemed to make his stomach crave something else. Sure the food replenished his hunger, but it wasn't satisfactory.

By complete accident he had stumbled across an abandoned city. The streets were empty, entirely empty. Empty enough to send shivers sprinting down Scott's spine until he was shivering.

There was something unsettling about the city.

In the Overworld, most villages were teeming with life. They'd have villagers wandering around, joyfully selling their wares in exchange for emeralds. Iron golems would roam freely. The occasional cat would dart around and, if you were lucky, would nuzzle your leg and let you pet them.

But in the Nether this was not the case.

He couldn't do it. Couldn't stay here. Scott had been in a couple houses and taken some dressers, but the air was too stuffy. He couldn't breathe. Everything was so similar but so different at the same time. Maybe he was hallucinating. Maybe he was back home in his bed dreaming.

But no. Scott was stuck in the Nether.

In the distance was a nether fortress.

---

Sparrow almost felt like he was flying.

Wind whipped against his body as he fell. He let out a cry of joy, delighting in the breeze that tickled him gently. The sky embraced him. If he shut his eyes, he could picture himself flying across the sky as the sun set. Warm colours of gold and rosy pinks mingling with the pale cotton clouds.

A content smile curled at his lips.

He spread his arms out wide.

The ground drew nearer and nearer.

He didn't see it. Why would he? With his eyes shut, he could be anywhere doing anything. Why would he confine himself to reality when his imagination was there for him? Sparrow would never have to be a regular human again. He could be anything he wanted with his eyes shut.

And shut they remained.

The ground got closer and closer.

Closer.

The wind finally ceased.

Sparrow's eyes opened.

The ground was there waiting for him.

He screamed. He screamed and screamed because he knew this landing was going to hurt. He screamed because he was an idiot for believing this would work. He screamed because there was nothing else he could do.

He hit the ground.

---

Scott finally got what he came for in the first place.

But the problem he was facing was finding obsidian. Because the nether fortress was huge, and there was almost no way he'd be able to cover every inch of the place alone.

Especially with mobs attacking him.

Eating another cabbage roll, he assembled his thoughts. There wasn't much more he could do other than keep looking. Staying in the Nether was certainly not an option. Scott would rather die than spend another minute here.

If he was really unlucky, that could be arranged for him.

Scott stumbled over his own feet as he ran. He hadn't been hit yet, and he didn't want to let the mobs get a chance to.

Chests were everywhere and contained all sorts of things. Still not enough obsidian. At best he'd managed to find four pieces, but that wasn't enough for a full portal.

He cursed as an arrow narrowly missed him.

Sprinting, he wasted no time in making his escape. The chests could wait until he wasn't in danger.

---

Groaning, Sparrow tried to sit up.

His legs shrieked in protest.

Oh well. That's what he gets for being so reckless.

Sparrow grabs some food and eats it. Feeling slightly better, he surveyed his situation. Broken legs, definite pain in his arms and some minor pain in his back. His neck ached, but his head was mostly okay.

This was the price he'd pay. So he wouldn't complain.

Perhaps he'd just have to try other methods.

A syringe would work, right?

---

Scott finally got his hands on the last bits of obsidian he needed to get home.

With intense eagerness, Scott placed the obsidian down in the formation and lit his flint and steel. There was a whoosh sound, and then the portal had been ignited.

As a goodbye, Scott nodded his head and leapt through the portal.

He felt the familiar nauseating feeling of going through the portal to and out of the Nether. Then, he was back on the Overworld. Back with the sun and grass and water. Back with his house, farms and friends.

Scott didn't have the neergy to go to his bed to sleep.

Curling up on the ground, he allowed himself some rest.

The Colony

Scott could feel the mushrooms.

Every tiny nook and cranny that he could place them in wasn't safe to the eyes of his brethren. Through them he could see. Through them he could hear. Through them he could feel.

There was no privacy in the colony. Everything was shared. That way no one had to deal with things alone.

But that also meant that Scott's pain was shared with the entire colony. His anguish, his agony, his sorrow. Every mushroom in his colony felt it and resonated with it.

He hated it. Hated how miserable he made his colony feel.

But as quickly as it'd come, the hatred would dissipate as the mushrooms soothed him with gentle words. His mind would be lulled into silence with their tender tune of love and adoration; because why wouldn't they adore him? Not many fungal mages roamed the lands anymore. They were few; a tiny sub-populace, a dying minority that would fade away.

The colony couldn't let him be destroyed by his sadness. He was the one spreading their power across the world. So they treated him like the blessing he was.

Scott sat on the mycellium outside his house, one hand tenderly stroking the ground and humming a small melody.

"How are you settling in? Hmm. That's good. I was worried that Martyn's Dollop would be a bit hard to adjust to. It's nice to know you're doing well. Oh? Don't tell me you just learned about the Coliny. They're nice, I promise. Yes, I know, you'll be fine! They aren't competition. They are just... frozen creepers? Yeti creepers? Something like that."

The mycellium around him spoke in a mixture of tones and voices.

"Oh no, I doubt Martyn will find you too quickly. He'll take a while at least. Probably a couple weeks. Maybe some months. He isn't as dense as I'd like him to be, but he's dumb enough."

He felt their worry. Their fear of discovery. And at that he shook his head and tutted.

"Don't fret, my babies. If he does try to uproot you or hurt you..." He trailed off and glared at the sinking sun. "I'll show the fury of the colony. Every single one of his colins shall fall."

It was a promise. The sun, the moon and the blinking stars were his witnesses.

"What's this about killing my colins?"

"Oh. Martyn." Scott stood up and greeted the chillager. "How are you? Is there something you need?"

"Nah, just passing through," Martyn waved him off. "Although, what happened to your last origin?"

"I died."

"I know that! What are you now? How'd you die?"

He shrugged. "Fell. But now I'm even better! I'm a fungal mage!"

Martyn tilted his head like a puzzled puppy. "What's that?"

Scott didn't give him an answer. "I'm not alone now. I have my colony! No matter where I go, as long as I have mycellium, they are with me as well. It's wonderful! Nothing is private anymore! I don't need to worry about secrets! Or going through things alone!"

"I-"

"You'd love it Martyn. It's like never losing your inner child. Like always being able to cling to the parts of you that you love most. I have help for every problem!"

"This doesn't seem healthy." Martyn stepped forward and placed his hand on Scott's cheek. "Are you sure you're alright?" His touch was cold, but it didn't bother him. Scott leaned into it.

"Perfectly fine!"

Martyn's lips tugged down for a second, but returned to a thin line of indifference.

"I'd best be off."

"See you later!" Scott smiled, waving as his friend went away.

---

"He's not okay."

"What do you think it is?"

"He kept mentioning a colony. Acted as if he had a psychic connection with them as long as he had mycellium."

"Hmm. Check everyone's bases. There might be stuff there."

"You sure? What if we're just, y'know, overestimating this? It might just be harmless."

"I doubt it."

"Fine. I'll start looking."

Music Witchcraft SMP Characters Would Listen To

So I had this thought in my head for a bit, and this was the result:

Scott - rock. The others can often hear heavy metal coming from Scott's tower, and Cleo has seen Scott playing songs on a guitar before. Most of them are break-up and recovery songs.

Cleo - classical. Gentle music drifted out of her tower to bring back memories from the other witches of happy times. Or even sad ones, depending on Cleo's mood. She owns a grand piano and a violin and will sometimes play them alongside Scott.

Cupquake - folk music. Her tower has songs passed down from villager to villager, and all are collected together. They often make good background music for her gardening and is relaxing for when she's practising magic.

Joey - pop. Upbeat melodies flow from his tower that can brighten the days of most passers-by. High-pitched for fire, low-pitched for ice, and a medium-pitch for both.

Lauren - musical theatre. You approach her tower and songs from various musicals or cheesy romcoms are blaring. She tries to do something unique compared to the other witches, and although it is a bold choice, the music is relatively okay.

Eloise - jazz. Smooth jazz plays whenever she uses illusion magic in her tower. It calms Eloise down a lot, and she owns a lot of jazz instruments for her to try out one day. Not yet, though.

Pris - a variety! Songs from 'The Little Mermaid' can often be heard from within her tower, as well as the occasional rock or classical here and there. Pris is inclined to mix things up. Her taste in music is as fluid as her water magic!

Shubble - techno. Electronic sounds forming energetic melodies flow from her tower. Maybe she can use electricity to generate new sounds to experiment with. Different songs can reflect the weather outside (e.g fast-paced could be storms, slower sunny, etc.)

So there you go. If any band AUs are out there, maybe this could help for which genres each member would be a part of. Or maybe this can just be for fun. Either way this was quite entertaining to make!

Have a nice day!!!

Bertha's Lament

Forever aside, Left to abide By the rules that she set Not allowed to forget

Watching them thrive Barely alive They took my prize In front of my eyes

But I'm not done yet They've not passed the test I'm waiting for my chance For my powers to enhance

I'll reclaim what's mine All in due time And none of them have a clue What they're helping me do

I'll undo my curse Then put her back in the hearse My power I'll enrich And become the Supreme Witch