fdeviant — Roleplayer Guild

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New Orleans 
1862
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    A cool breeze passed through the narrow gaps between those gathered in Jackson Square. Men and women of all races and social standings stood at the foot of the famous statue, gazing up in astonishment at Hekate, who hovered briefly above the mounted figure, then descended into the crowd of Spiritualists and believers, who erupted into a fit of applause. They had come from all over Louisiana, some from across the country, to witness the powers of the witch Susanna Wilde. Hekate allowed them to admire her for a few moments longer, then silenced them all with a raised hand. 

”My friends, too long have we been kept hidden by the tides of time, too long have we been hushed by our peers and superiors, who believe us evil or touched, too long have we been subject to oppression by the religious majority. The time for true rebellion has come!” Hekate spoke with genuine enthusiasm, and the crowd responded. Again they cheered and yelled in her favor.

    “Well well,” a haggardly old man stepped forward with wild silver hair, dressed in a fine white suit. A young woman helped to steady him as he walked to the front of the crowd. “I must give you credit missy, you sure know how to get a mob riled up, but over what?” He walked closer to Hekate, waving a short cane around while speaking. “I don’t care what kinda tricks you got to offer me, I’ll not have anything to do with the likes of them.” He pointed his cane to a collection of black men and women in the crowd, then spat in their direction. Immediately, the crowd began to retaliate, but Hekate stopped them. 

”Calm yourselves. Let us not take the example set by our country and resort to violence. We are intellectuals, beings of reason, and we can settle this not with fists and guns, but with words.” Hekate turned her attention to the old man who stood before her, offering him an overly polite smile. ”Sir, you have the floor.”

    “Thank you kindly,” he responded with a nod, turning back to the crowd. “Now you see, there ain’t no place for colored folk in this here new world, no place except at the end of a leash!” He cackled, then went into a small fit of coughing before continuing. “They ain’t civilized, just look at ‘em. More like beasts than men, don’tcha think?” He directed his question to Hekate, who maintained an eerie smile. The crowd sat in silence, all turning to hear Hekate’s response.

”I am inclined to agree with you that there are some among us who do not belong here, some who are, in fact, more like beasts.” The crowd gasped. A few began to leave the square, others began dismissing Hekate. The old man smiled, but Hekate was not finished. She spoke loud enough to hush the mob, ”However, the color of their skin has nothing to do with it.” The crowd grew quiet once more and those leaving quickly filed back into place. The old man’s smiled turned quickly into a scowl. ”You are so quick to follow in the footsteps of your predecessors, so quick to judge others based on assumptions made by those before you.” Hekate pointed to the same collection of people as the old man had earlier. ”These are a powerful people! A worthy group with rich history and culture. They may have wild spirits, but they are far from beastlike. You, on the other hand, are a plague-stricken vermin . . . and that is how you will spend the rest of your miserable life.”

    Before the man could protest, he was seized by a fit of coughing, then collapsed. His limbs began to shake violently, bones and joints creaking, twisting, contorting. He teeth yellowed, then grew longer, squared, and jagged. He screamed as his body became deformed and misshapen. The crowd stepped back and watched in horror, but Hekate smiled in delight. Soon, there was nothing left of the man but his suit and cane, but from beneath the fabric came a small, white rat who scurried off into the streets of New Orleans.

    The square was silent. Everyone in attendance stood in shock and awe of what had just transpired. No one dared move from place, no one dared speak. Hekate looked at all of them, still smiling. ”Now then . . . shall we continue?” After another long stretch of silence, the crowd once again erupted into applause, cheering for Hekate and moving in closer to her, all of them wanting what she had to offer, all of them completely under her spell. The night went on, her speeches continued to sway the crowd, and when midnight struck, the square was filled with men and women dancing and singing in ecstatic pleasure. Hekate, in the midst of war, had brought together a community of witches with a show of force, and unlike Salem, these witches thrived years after she had moved on. The New Orleans witches built a strong bond with the Vodou practitioners, and the city remains a stronghold and seat of power for the magical community.
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