Cursed

A 3-post collection

Challenge #04859-M110: The Haunting of Stelgi Manor

Countess Vermyr Stelgi has inherited a substantial tract of land after the death of a distant cousin who had no other heirs. She moves quickly to spruce up the palace, hoping to make it into a summer home owing to the northerly quiet. That involves properly disposing of the departed cousin’s eclectic (some might say ghastly) collection, though some things in that palace might not appreciate being removed… -- Deathshead419

Like most buildings that had been in a family for generations, it was a heap of conflicting architecture. Varying portions of it had been raised, refurbished, renovated, rebuilt, and then left to run down. Some of it had potential. Most of it could use more than a little spackle or Tape of Mending. The Countess Vermyr Brigide Hester Stelgi, second of her name, decided to wait and see before she decided to raze it all to the ground.

Besides, most of it was very well-dressed stone.

The staff formerly in her cousin's employ had aired a guest suite for her, and cleaned the final mess from his bedchamber, but otherwise left the chambers untouched. They knew well her cousin's odd habits and quirks, and were well used to leaving everything inanimate alone.

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Challenge #04780-M031: Gifted a Curse

Whilst perusing a market, Waithvine’s companion hands hir a small statuette of an odd winged God. Nothing seemed to be odd about it, but, when ze handed it back, and statuette soon reappeared in hir pocket. Try as ze might, it always returns, while the merchant who sold it is long gone and the mysterious curse grows ever tighter… -- Deathshead419

Wraithvine had grown used to Girrautuvit sticking her hands in hir pockets. She had yet to learn that it was

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Challenge #03638-I350: A Cursed Gift

“Wear a mask for too long, it will become your face,” and, “fake it till you make it,” mean the same thing for very different reasons -- Anon Guest

The Mask of Aspirations was soft like clay in her hands. It would fit easily over her face and do nothing. Not until she stated her terms. Agda shaped a pretty nose for it and watched as it returned to a bland and uninteresting normalcy.

She had to tell it what she wanted.

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