a wicked witch -- Thera Gerard

An evil spirit or divine antagonist

Thera Gerard stiffled a yawn and watched a lamb frolick in the field with some other lambs. Recently, her co-worker and office nemesis Landon Charming called in a favor owed and because of it she was currently residing in the country. Gentry Acres to be exact, in the quaint village of Nobody-of-any-Worth-Caresville. She hated the country. She liked trees and nature and flora and fauna and all of those lovely things, but she simply hated being in the country. Surrounded by country people. And country things. It all made her itchy and sad. A large, laughing woman wearing rough cloth linen, and mop cap on her head, walked by with a cow rope lead. She waved as she passed. Thera returned the wave. She truly felt bad for country people. To choose to live one's life in such a way seemed a waste. Thera waved a fan in front of her face to keep the insects away and waited for an ill clad servant to poor her tea. She graciously thanked the woman. They all tried so hard but, oh, dear, life on the farm. She chuckled to herself. "No!" Landen yelled from the somewhere inside of the house. "Do not go in out there!" Thera placed her teacup on its saucer and perused the many assorted snacks and treats before her. So much unnecessary drama in a household that was dubbed as "peaceful." It was not peaceful. It was dull. There vwas a difference. One could only endure so much walking in orchards and ruminating on life's lessons before one wanted to expire. The only interest Thera took in this whole horrible ordeal (and trust her, the interest and effort was marginal) was currently charging through the house with the fire and angry indignation of an almost-eighteen-year-old girl bent on destruction. "You monster!" the almost "adult" Lillaguard Charming accused from the archway linking the back of the country house to the (and she was using this term very generously) veranda. Thera chose a raspberry tartlet, an onion jelly chicken mini meat pie, a yogurt dipped fruit jorgik, and three fresh jewel weed moss cakes with pecans and a light maple drizzle (her favorite). She took a small bite of one of the mini chicken meat pies, swallowed, dabbed with a cloth and then looked at Lilla. She reared back slightly upon the sight. "Goodness, Miss Charming! Have you been playing in the muck? I thought you were supposed to be spending the day with a cousin or some such. I do hope you were not caught unawares in the rainstorm. I was confidant today would bring nothing but sunshine." "You are a monster," Lillagaurd fumed as she stomped near the table at which Thera sat. "Darling, I'm not the one who looks like she just rose up from an ogre swamp." She waved her hand. "Move back, dear. Cook spent hours preparing this especially for me and I intend to eat some of it before throwing the rest to the dogs." She scanned Lillagaurd from head to foot and winced. "Or you may have it, if you'd like." Lillagaurd's face turned deep scarlet under the rivulets of mud and muddy water and straggles of disgusting muddy hair. "Thera, enough," Landen said, having taken Lillaguard's place in the archway. Two piglets and three chickens snuffled and pecked their way past and he lifted his feet one after the other to keep from being trampled. Thera shook her head. Ugh, the country. She stood and said, "Listen, little girl, I'm very good at being wicked. What you have received so far is but a taste. Further use of my services, will cost 30…no," she stopped speaking and scanned Lila's person again. "35,” she nodded, “percent of your monthly allowance and a hefty bonus thrown in by your brother." She shook her head with more tragic distain. "So much drama for so little return of enjoyment," Thera muttered as she retrieved her plate. She'd enjoy it on a nice stroll through the bloody fucking orchard again. "Or, if you prefer, snivel to your big brother that you can't handle a real "wicked stepsister" and go back to being a nobody at of all the local barn raisings." Thera swept the piglets aside with a bespoke leather boot and walked away.

Social

Social Aptitude

Lillaguard Charming was absolutely gob smacked silent as her brother's co-worker metaphorically witch slapped her. "She's truly wicked isn't she?" she breathed. Landen nodded and rubbed the back of his neck. "Learned from the best," he said after a deep exhale. Ethereal Gerard was the absolute worst person Lilla had ever met. Ever. She was wicked and mean and hauty and snide and dismissive and completely uninterested in everyone (not just Lilla). "I brought her here to help, but if she's hurting you in any way I'll ask her to leave" "Don't you dare! She's only been here a week and my social standing has already risen." She wiped her dirty hand on a cloth, picked up one of Cook's yogurt dipped fruit jorgik and popped it in her mouth. "Laurence Pottersnothsigather has ask me," she told Landen, "ME, to the Harvest Festival Dance. Laurence Pottersnothsigather!" She picked up another fruit jorgik they were her favorite and Cook only made them for special occasions. Except for the last week during which she'd made them three times because of their guest expressed a mild fondness for them. "I mean, 35% is a bit steep but I'm sure I can economize especially now that I'm going to the Harvest Festival Dance with Laurence Pottersnothsigather. Surely mother and father will see the benefit of such a needed expediture." So much joy overtook her that Lilla jumped a little jig. "Thank you for bringing her here, Landen!" Then she stopped jigging. She was nearly an adult. Adults didn't jig. Especially not an adult with a wicked witch on her side. "I don't care that daddy hates it; I love that you work for the wicked witch." Lilla's stupid Royal Charming cousin Lady Loraquette wouldn't expect Lilla to employe the tactics of a wicked witch. Lilla let loose her own witchy cackle and reached for the one jewel weed moss cake Thera left behind. "Oh," Landen said, "I don't know how smart that is, that's pretty powerful." "Don't worry, Landen. Thera said I could."