cause i am a little wicked i am i am

[muskeg]

i. before the ceremony

[ it is two days before Samhain, before the veil between magic and mortal wears so thin it is almost not there, and Sage has been running around the swamp house and the outlying swamp like a small, furious hurricane. with Minsu as a shadow more often than not. they only have a little bit of time left to make sure that everything is put together, that the potions are ready for the week to follow, that the spells are woven right and that there are wards carved perfectly into the stones and bits of wood that Sage has gathered.

it isn't necessarily a lot to be done but--

Sage needs it to be perfect.

not for his sake, but rather Minsu's.

so yeah, he is a bit, uh... frantic? hectic? chaotic? all of the above?

if you happen to see him in the halls, hair pulled up into a messy ponytail (he has to admit, the one good thing about his hair growing at a constant rate is how much easier it is to keep it out of his face) with a rod of hewn mountain ash, berries and all, shoved in the middle.

a rod that he is currently searching frantically for.]

I swear to fuck, I had it right here... fuck, where--

after the ceremony

[ no one will see either of them for twenty-four hours. it will be the early morning of November the second before Sage or MInsu manage to pull themselves from the swamp and the curls of magic that are now swirling around them. well, more so Sage at the moment, but he knows that Minsu has some too. can feel the ebb and flow of the swamp and him and Minsu in some strangely easy dance.

he loves it in ways he didn't think possible.

but he would also love a shower and some coffee and his actual bed thank you very much. he is sure that Minsu would like as much as well, and to also make sure that everyone has been eating.

so if you happen to be around in the morning, you will stumble across a freshly showered witch, hair still damp around his neck, eyes a bright green with skin covered in writhing vines, shadows of claws and feathers against his skin, staring at the coffee pot like it might magically make it brew faster.

it doesn't, but hey he tries. ]

the ceremony for Minsu

[ well, he thinks that he has it all in order. it's barely noon on the thirty-first but-- yeah, Sage thinks that it is all put together. the witch looks at the table, covered in spells and potions, candles and jars and a pile of blankets and pillows and water with his hands on his hips and hums.

yeah, totally done.

he hopes.

tipping his head, he taps his fingers absently against the knot of fabric that currently keeps the shirt he is wearing from being a dress (not that it's an issue, just not what he wanted, he needed more movement and was therefore in leggings, and wow he gets why people love them so much).]

Minsu, love, you have that charm for the swamp offering?