Guardians of Hell

Guardians of Hell

0.25 INK

Nearly a year has passed since the Harbinger of Hell opened the Gates to Hell. Now roaming the world, nine demons lay in wait for their hosts to sign their names in the book of the beast. [ OPEN ROLES ]

3,374 readers have visited Guardians of Hell since mjolnir created it.

Copyright: The creator of this roleplay has attributed some or all of its content to the following sources:

this world is based off of the chilling adventures of sabrina.

Introduction

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xxxP R O P H E C Y .

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The prophecy has begun…

The blasphemous miracles of the Herald of Hell has brought on the start of the apocalypse. In Greendale, Sabrina Spellman performed these acts, mirrors to Jesus’s miracles. In doing so Lucifer could once again walk the earth in his angelic form. But before he could rain hell upon the world, the young witch along other witches and humans alike, tricked the Dark Lord, trapping him within the prison of a Warlock’s body. Then Lilith, handmaiden of Satan, took the imprisoned Lucifer with her back to hell and began her reign as the Queen of Hell.

And then there was silence. The witches thought that was the end, the prophecy was ruined and Lucifer was detained. But unbeknownst to the followers of the Church of Night, what appeared to be the end was only the beginning. The Herald was merely the catalyst, a means to bring forth the true Harbingers of Hell. With the return of Lucifer the Gates of Hell opened. And while the residents of Greendale kept the demons and monsters from flooding forth, the runes didn’t keep everything at bay.

Nine Guardians ruled over hell, each one of them the master of one of the nine circles of hell. These demons were tasked with the punishment of the souls in their circle, torturing them for all eternity. That was until the Herald of Hell opened the Gates, letting the guardians escape out into the world. Their essences wondered the earth for nearly a year until they found the perfect hosts. Then on the night of their Dark Baptisms, once they sign their names in the Book of the Beasts, the Guardians can possess them.

Forgotten by the world, the second prophecy was hidden away...

The Veil between Heaven and Hell torn
Nine Guardians of the inferno shall ascend
And with them reap a Dark Reckoning
A war, the beginning of the end

xxxA C A D E M Y .

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The Academy of Unseen Arts in New York is one of the largest academies in the world. The New England Coven is the most prestigious in the world, where only the most gifted and powerful can attend. Unlike other covens, Dark Baptisms are a large annual celebration for the Witches and Warlocks that have come of age. While many other covens have their baptisms at age sixteen, the New York Academy believes that a Witch’s prolonged life allows them the opportunity to focus on and perfect their fundamental studies. So, unlike the other academies, the witches of New England don’t come of age until they are twenty five.

It’s All Hallow’s Eve, and the New England Coven has gathered in the desecrated church for the annual Dark Baptism. Several witches and warlocks prepare to sign their name in the Book of the Beast and follow the path of night. While in the shadows the Guardians watch and wait… wait for their host…



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G U A R D I A N S
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T H E x V O I D x is one of the nine guardians, charged with the oversight of the first circle of hell, Limbo, where the pagans and unbaptized are punished. When the gates opened, the Void possessed Valerian Goulding, a 25 year old warlock in the Church of Night. The presence of the guardian’s soul not only unlocked the full potential of Rian’s powers, but also granted him with opinokinesis, the ability to manipulate the senses.

fc // taron egerton xx hex // #fcb514 xx writer // barnes

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T H E x L E C H E R x is one of the nine guardians, charged with the oversight of the second circle of hell, where the lustful are punished. When the gates opened, the Lecher possessed Roman Black, a 25 year old warlock in the Church of Night. The presence of the guardian’s soul not only unlocked the full potential of Roman’s powers, but also granted him with aerokinesis, the ability to manipulate air.

fc // dacre montgomery xx hex // #AC945A xx writer // mjolnir

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T H E x G L U T T O N x is one of the nine guardians, charged with the oversight of the third circle of hell, where the gluttons are punished. When the gates opened, the Glutton possessed Lucia DuBois, a 25 year old witch in the Church of Night. The presence of the guardian’s soul not only unlocked the full potential of Lucia’s powers, but also granted her with meteorokinesis, the ability to manipulate the weather.

fc // taylor lashae xx hex // #FD0E53 xx writer // LindaRose

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T H E x A V A R I C E x is one of the nine guardians, charged with the oversight of the fourth circle of hell, where the greedy are punished. When the gates opened, the Avarice possessed Neona Ki, a age year old witch in the Church of Night. The presence of the guardian’s soul not only unlocked the full potential of Neona’s powers, but also granted her with telekinesis.

fc // won min ji xx hex // #896767 xx writer // rubytuesday

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T H E x F U R Y x is one of the nine guardians, charged with the oversight of the fifth circle of hell, where the angry are punished. When the gates opened, the Fury possessed Josephine Jaiyen, a 25 year old witch in the Church of Night. The presence of the guardian’s soul not only unlocked the full potential of Josie’s powers, but also granted her with hydrokinesis, the ability to manipulate the water.

fc // lydia graham xx hex // #F0C0C0 xx writer // barnes

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T H E x H E R E T I C x is one of the nine guardians, charged with the oversight of the sixth circle of hell, City of Dis, where the heretics are punished. When the gates opened, the Heretic possessed Michael Navarro, a 25 year old warlock in the Church of Night. The presence of the guardian’s soul not only unlocked the full potential of Michael’s powers, but also granted him with geokinesis, the ability to manipulate earth.

fc // xavier serrano xx hex // #87975C xx writer // stxlla

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T H E x S A V A G E x is one of the nine guardians, charged with the oversight of the seventh circle of hell, Plain of Fire, where the violent are punished. When the gates opened, the Savage possessed Bodhi Krishnan, a 25 year old witch in the Church of Night. The presence of the guardian’s soul not only unlocked the full potential of Bodhi’s powers, but also granted her with pyrokinesis, the ability to manipulate fire.

fc // nora attal xx hex // #2D0704 xx writer // Compers

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T H E x C H A R L A T A N x is one of the nine guardians, charged with the oversight of the eighth circle of hell, Malebolge, where the frauds are punished. When the gates opened, the Charlatan possessed Dorian Fawkes, a 28 year old warlock in the Church of Night. The presence of the guardian’s soul not only unlocked the full potential of Dorian’s powers, but also granted him with hallucikinesis, the ability to manipulate illusions.

fc // matthew bell xx hex // #8BA3A6 xx writer // mjolnir

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T H E x T R A I T O R x is one of the nine guardians, charged with the oversight of the ninth circle of hell, Pit of Hell, where the traitors are punished. When the gates opened, the Traitor possessed Constance Lamotte, a 25 year old witch in the Church of Night. The presence of the guardian’s soul not only unlocked the full potential of Constance’s powers, but also granted her with cyrokinesis, the ability to manipulate ice.

fc // tati gabrielle xx hex // #863348 xx writer // .euphoria.

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T A M S I N x R E I D

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one hundred and seventy three
cursed witch
kristen stewart
#660019
mjolnir

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C A S P E R x R E I D

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twenty four
warlock
thomas doherty
#1E6262
barnes

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B O N E S x B U R R O U G H S

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twenty three
warlock
ash stymest
#167F40
Chompers

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W I N I F R E D x B L A N C H A R D

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twenty four
witch
madelaine petsch
#BF5F28
stxlla

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I S A A C x C O U R T N E Y

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four hundred and two
warlock
ben barnes
#934016
Chompers

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I V Y x B I S H O P

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twenty five
witch
tashi rodriguez
#A794A7
.euphoria.

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E M R Y S x P R O C T O R

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twenty three
warlock
oussama guessoum
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rubytuesday

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D E S D E M O N A x P R O C T O R

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twenty three
witch
vittoria ceretti
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rubytuesday

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N A M E x L A S T N A M E

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witch or warlock
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Toggle Rules

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• Guardian characters are both the host and the spirit of the Guardian. You will be playing the Witch or Warlock as they are slowly being taken over by the Guardian.

• Guardian characters should be good hosts for the Guardians souls, so they should exhibit strong characteristics of that Guardian. The more similar they share personality traits with their Guardian, the stronger the bond. But it also doesn’t have to be glaringly obvious. It is also open to interpretation as well. For example, Gluttons are usually thought of in regards of food, but the writer could adjust it to be a general hunger for many different things in life as long as it doesn't overlap into the other Guardians. Following the literal path is fine as well :) Make the character your own.

• Once the character is possessed, the Guardian can have different effects on each person. But, a common theme is blacking out similar to Exorcism type episodes where the Guardian takes control over their host. How you wish this to happen or manifest is up to you, if anything seems a little out there, just ask me about it. But over time this will progress and get worse and worse, so keep that in mind.

• Unless mentioned otherwise, there is a limit of one Guardian per writer.

• The witch/warlock characters can be varying ages (witches can live for several centuries and still look young). They should be members of the Academy of Unseen Arts, but if you have a different idea feel free to run it by me.

• Characters allegiances, thoughts, beliefs can go anyway and diversity is always welcome. As the truth of the prophecy unfolds or characters become drunk on power, some will be devote to Lucifer no matter what while others might be swayed to self preservation. Although they do not know about the prophecy yet, make sure their motives are true to who the character is.

• Gender balancing please :) If you play a female and want a second character, unless there is an uneven balance in one way or another, please have your second character as a male, or vice versa.


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• Reservations should be posted on the OOC.

• Reservations should include roles, faceclaims (real life), average words per post and how frequently you are online.

• Once a reservation is accepted, you have 2 days to get a WIP up (it can be blank) and 2 weeks to finish the CS. Special exceptions can be made because of life, vacations, etc. just contact me prior.

• Roles are competitive, so if there is one you want but someone else has reserved it, you can compete for it, if you choose.


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• Post length doesn’t have to be a novel (although I tend to write longer posts). Content is always preferred over length, but please be sure there is enough for others to build off of. Not just reactions, but forwarding the plot as well.

• Be active. I understand life happens and don’t expect posts everyday or week, but please don’t keep us waiting forever. If something comes up, just let us know. We’re patient.

• No ghosting. Please please please don’t disappear without a word. If you have to back out or life is hectic, just let us know. We understand. But nothing is more infuriating than people disappearing without a word.

• Follow the site rules. Romance, violence and drama are fine. But fade to black please :)

• Be respectful of each other!

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Characters Present

Character Portrait: Tamsin Reid Character Portrait: Dorian Fawkes Character Portrait: Constance Lamotte Character Portrait: Bones Burroughs Character Portrait: Bodhi Krishnan Character Portrait: Winifred Blanchard Character Portrait: Michael Navarro Character Portrait: Ivy Bishop Character Portrait: Josie Jaiyen Character Portrait: Casper Reid Character Portrait: Neona Ki Character Portrait: Isaac Courtney Character Portrait: Desdemona Proctor Character Portrait: Emrys Proctor Character Portrait: Roman Black Character Portrait: Rian Goulding

0.00 INK

#, as written by mjolnir
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dorian fawkes
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Saying that Dorian didn't have a good night's sleep was an understatement. Since he arrived at the New England Academy, he's been walking around on eggshells. After all, this was his last chance at a life before the witch council found him out. At this point, it seemed like the safest place for him to hide was under the Church of Night's nose, and that's what he was doing. But it didn't make anything easier.

He spent most of the night staring at the ceiling, or refreshing his memory of witch law. Why did he do that to himself? It didn't calm his nerves, only made them worst. It became a routine nearly ever night, going through and counting the number of laws he'd broken, how many offenses. Dorian was a dead man living on borrowed time. The moment they figured him out, he'd be executed without a doubt. If anything, that should make him wish to live what life he had left to the fullest. But he spent too much time living in fear for that to happen.

Dorian might have dozed off at one point or another, but by the time the sun came up, he was up as well. With a sigh, he finally decided to get up and out of bed. There was no point in lazing around under the blankets for hours when his mind would only wonder to more horrible things the future held. He moved about the room quietly, being sure not to wake up Michael as he went to the bathroom. He closed and locked the door behind him. And with that brief moment of privacy he had, Dorian let his glamour fall.

For so long he hadn't be able to look at his reflection, his true reflection. Looking at himself felt so foreign, but the sadness in the eyes... that never changed. Dorian couldn't look for long and let his focus fall to his hands that gripped the sink. With his gaze diverted, he put the glamour back up. He didn't dare look back in the mirror before he made his way into the shower. There weren't many things that could relax him, but a hot shower seemed to always melt away any worries he had, at least, temporarily.

He quickly lost track of how much time he spent standing under the cascading water, but eventually Dorian finally got out. The rest of the day seemed to crawl by, yet at the same time time ticked by so quickly. Before he knew it, Michael was awake and they both had to begin to get ready. Dorian seemed to wait until the absolute last minute to get changed into his white outfit. Just touching it churned his stomach. The one thought he hadn't let plague his mind is what would signing the book of the beast twice do to him. Would it kill him? Overwhelm him with power? Would Satan himself smite him where he stood?

Dorian hadn't noticed until that moment how much his hands had been trembling. Hopefully to other people it just appeared as normal nerves. But he knew the truth, the fear that built up inside him at the nearing of that night's proceedings. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath as he took the clothes from the hanger and began to get dressed. Thankfully, his reflection betrayed him. In the mirror, he was a different man... Dorian Fawkes, who was giving his life over to Lucifer for the first time ever. He let that thought repeat over and over in his mind.

Once dressed and as presentable as he could manage, he finally looked over at Michael giving his bravest smile. "Have you decided on your baptismal name? I haven't had much time to think about it myself," he confessed as he sat back down on his bed. "Pearl likes Xavier." As he said her name, his familiar emerged from somewhere under his pillow and slowly climbed onto his hand.




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tamsin reid
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Tamsin groaned as an alarmed buzzed in her ear from the nightstand beside her bed. Satan, when did she go to bed the night before? 5 am? 6 am? She couldn't remember, just that she saw the pink glow of the sun about to on crest the horizon before she finally tucked in. Her hand slapped the table, missing her clock three times before she sat up and yanked it out from the wall and threw it across the room.

Normal people were usually out of bed before noon. But Tamsin rarely saw a need to be up before 3 pm. She hasn't attended a class at the Academy for over a century. She's already taken every single one they offered to the point of knowing the classes verbatim. And being a creature of the night, she rarely felt a need to be a morning person.

Her arms stretched out in every direction as she yawned. Tamsin's hair stood up on end, but remained flat on the left side of her head from where she was laying. Her fingers ran through her hair and scratched her scalp, un-matting it from the several hours of sleep. She yanked her blanket off of her and slid out of bed in a tank top and underwear. She was far beyond the point of caring about how she was dressed in front of Winnie and if someone else happened to be in their room too? Well, they got a free show. Tamsin lost count of how many times Roman had seen her naked.

Tamsin nearly tore apart her bed, searching within the blankets and under pillows for her phone. She only found it when she heard the device fall onto the ground next to her feet. She scooped it up and sat down on the mound of blankets. A groan escaped her lips as she illuminated her phone. "Satan's balls. It's All Hallow's Eve?!"

She slammed her phone down on her bed before trudging off to their bathroom. Tamsin rarely closed the door as she showered, knowing full well Winnie spent half of her life in front of a mirror trying to look perfect. She tried locking the door once, and somehow still managed to be greeted by the red head standing in front of the mirror by the time she was done. Tamsin has long since given up trying to get the bathroom to herself since then.

Asmodeus Proctor told Tamsin several times leading up to that day that he expected her presence along with the rest of the Academy. The ceremony was the biggest celebration their coven had every year. And although the Anti Pope was too busy to join this year, every member of the coven would be attending, including the Reids. And it wasn't like she'd be allowed to skip the Dark Baptism. She tried once... Let's just saying being a torture spell test subject for a semester was enough for her to not want to miss it again. So, she didn't waste much time washing up, nearly slipping and falling on the tile floor as she exited the shower.

Tamsin wrapped herself in a towel, using a second to dry her hair as she scurried back out into their room. While it temporarily blocked her view, she bumped into someone who stood in the middle of their room. She pulled the towel from her head and groaned the instant she saw Roman Black standing before her with his stupid smug grin. "Ugh," she scoffed. "You look like the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man... But more sex offender-y." Tamsin wormed her way around him and made her way to her dresser. "Don't you have your own room?"

"Yes, but my roommate isn't my biggest fan."

"Shocker," Tamsin quipped as she yanked open drawers, quickly sifting through what clothes she had clean. She pulled out the first things she found and tossed them onto her bed. She didn't even waste her breath asking Roman to turn around or look away. When she dropped her towel, Tamsin couldn't find her undergarments on the mess that was her bed. After a moment or two of searching, Roman cleared his throat. She turned to look at him, finding him standing there smiling, her underwear hanging off his index finger.

"Grow up, Black," she said as she snatched her panties back and put them on.

"I'll stop when you join us one night," Roman offered as he motioned his hand to Winnie.

Tamsin grabbed her shirt, pulling it on like a vest, turning around to face him as she zipped it up. "I do have standards." Shocking. The girl who pumped herself full of enough substances to euthanize an elephant had standards? Even as she said it, she found it hard to believe the words that were coming out of her mouth.

"And what's that?" Roman asked as he leaned back against the wall on Winnie's side of the room.

"Not you." She smirked towards him as she wiggled into her skinny jeans and fastened them. Tamsin let out a soft sigh of relief now that she was dressed. There was still a bit of time before the Baptism, but seeing Roman in head to toe white get up like a virgin just shit out from heaven, she knew the time was near. If she had to guess, she wouldn't see much of Casper that evening. With the rest of the Reid family present and their clear hatred of her... She'd be left to her own devices for the ceremony.

Tamsin's bare feet tapped along the wood floor as she made her way back to the bathroom, this time closing the door. There was only one instance where she closed the door, and Winnie knew this. It was the one time she wouldn't be bothered. Some shuffling could be heard coming from the bathroom, the sound of the lid on the toilet being moved, some tapping and then the door opened back up. Tamsin walked out sniffing and rubbing her nose, flashing a smile to the other two in the room. It was no secret to anyone at the Academy that she was a junkie. And at this point, she barely felt the effects. It was more like caffeine than a high, no doubt another gift from Lucifer so she couldn't even have an escape or be numb from the torture he's put her through.

She wasn't in the mood to linger and watch the rabbits hump one out before the Dark Baptism. Tamsin didn't even waste her time, finishing getting ready in her room, instead putting her sunglasses on her head and snatched up the rest of what she planned to wear along with her purse. "If you're going to have sex you have about 30 minutes. Not that it would be an issue for Sparky here," Tamsin said as she patted Roman's shoulder. She then grimaced, pinching the fabric of his jacket between her fingers. "Well, if you do you should do it naked. This fabric will wrinkle if you breathe on it wrong."

With nothing more to add, Tamsin nodded causing her sunglasses to slip down from her head and land on the bridge of her nose. "Later, pornstars." She slipped out of their dorm room, closing the door behind her. With a sigh, she walked barefoot down the hallway until she reached one of the small common areas. Thankfully no one else seemed to be there, for the time being.

She found a free spot on the ground and dropped all of her shit. The movement must have startled Chesare, who's white head poked out of her bag to look up at Tamsin, sticking his tongue out at her. "Sorry," she apologized before sitting down next to him. Without needing to rush as much, she lit a cigarette, not particularly worried about getting caught smoking inside the dormitories. Tamsin then took the time to finish getting ready, even putting on a little make up... basically just heavy ass eyeliner.





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roman black
the lecherx|xoutfitx|x#AC945A

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Roman's mother had been preparing him for this day for years. What is to be expected of him, what will happen, what it means. But no matter how much she prepared him for it, it still didn't calm his nerves. It was strange for someone like himself to be anxious but this was the day he's been waiting for. To accept Satan into his life, into his heart. To be a servant of the Dark Lord. He knew others trembled at the thought, but he has been waiting for this moment... To make his mother proud.

He started getting ready far earlier than someone normally would, but this was his day. Roman spent at least an hour in the shower, perfecting himself for the Dark Lord. He even decided to shave, trying to be his best self. For months he had his outfit planned and set aside for just this occasion. Rome was never a fan of white clothes, especially an all white outfit. He never found it to be very flattering. But, he knew they were supposed to appear virginal on the night of the Dark Baptism. Being virginal was another thing entirely, but he was twenty-five, what did the Dark Lord expect?

Roman didn't pay much attention to his roommate as he finished getting ready, not that he paid much attention to Bones on most days anyway. He gave himself a final once over in the mirror, slicking his hair back before he grabbed his jacket. He headed out of the boys' dormitory, finally putting his jacket on as he crossed the green toward the girl's dorms. Although they were forced to be in separate buildings, the Academy didn't seem to pay much of a mind to them spending however much time in which ever building they preferred. After all, the Dark Lord had no issue with sexual exploits.

In no time, he had reached Winifred's room. He didn't knock, instead letting himself in as he often did. "Good evening, darling," Roman said in greeting as he crossed the room. He came up behind her, placing his hands gently on her shoulders before placing a soft kiss upon her cheek. "Beautiful as always."

He softly brushed the skin of her shoulder with his thumb before he made his way over to one of her mirrors to check his appearance again. He tugged on the cuffs of his shirt and adjusted his cufflinks. Roman could hear the sound of the shower coming from their bathroom as he looked around seeing the chaotic state of Tamsin's side of the room. "I see the old lady is up at a normal time." He chuckled softly, glancing back over to the stunning red head.

And as if he spoke of Lucifer himself, the brunette came out of the bathroom in a whirlwind. Of course, she couldn't walk past him without their usual pleasantries and banter. As much as she annoyed him, and boy did she... Roman did enjoy catching her when she wasn't presentable. Anyone who thought she wasn't attractive was blind or stupid. And with her fiery nature, she had to be a tomcat in the sack. One day he'd find out. For now, he had to settle for stealing her underwear as she tried to get dress and enjoy the brief extra moment of her naked presence.

Once she was gone, Roman sat down on Winnie's bed. "As much as I'd love a roll in the sheets before signing my name in the book of the beast, I did spend exceptionally long getting ready today." He crossed his right leg over his left. He also knew full well that once she had started getting ready, there was no hope of ruining her work either. What could he say? They were both vain. "Although, I wouldn't mind a celebratory shag later." He smiled at her, raising a brow.

After sometime sitting there, Roman leaned back on her bed slightly, playing with the tassels on one of her frilly decorative pillows."Do you think everyone will go through with it?"

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Tamsin Reid Character Portrait: Bones Burroughs Character Portrait: Bodhi Krishnan Character Portrait: Isaac Courtney Character Portrait: Rian Goulding

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bones burroughs
the kid | outfit | #167f40


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Bones was woken far too early for his liking. He’d been forced awake at what felt like the crack of dawn as Roman had pranced about, noisily getting ready for his dark baptism. He’d taken hours deciding on his outfit and doing his hair and whatever else he spent all his time doing, Bones would never understand how one single person could spend so much time staring longingly at their own reflection. And he couldn’t be cajoled by Bones sleepy grumbles to hurry up either.

Eventually Roman left, but Bones didn’t get any peace as his phone start blaring into the silence. He fumbled for the phone and with a scowl, he silenced its ringing almost immediately. His father had decided to make the trek down for the dark baptism – the schmoozer that he was – and he’d been trying to contact Bones for weeks. Of course, Bones hadn’t answered any of his numerous calls and texts.

Officially deciding he wasn’t getting anymore sleep, Bones rolled out of bed and in contrast to his fussy roommate, he threw on the first thing he found on the floor of his cupboard. Where there was a whole pile of assorted clothes since Bones wasn’t the cleanest guy.

Leaving his room, he found Tamsin scowling into a mirror. “Hey Tam,” He said, flopping against the wall across from her. He made sure to sit a little bit down from her, so that he wouldn’t catch any of the smoke from her cigarette. He wasn’t one of those conservative prudes, but considering he had scars from the three surgeries he’d had to save his lungs, he kind of respected their wellbeing.

It was easy to guess the reason Tamsin was dropped in a common room rather than her own perfectly good dorm. “Let me guess, Roman’s screwing Win’s brains out right about now?” He made a face at the thought. Winifred was like a sister to him, an annoying, bratty one, but the vision of her having sex was not something Bones wanted to dwell on.

Bones let Tamsin get on with her getting ready, and instead he watched as people wandered in out and out of the common room. Some of them, nervous and skittish in their full white outfits. He nodded towards a pair that were leaving the common room looking particularly pale. “They’re all so fucking nervous.” Bones may have only been 23, considered young by the batch of witches to be baptised, but since he had belong to a Canadian coven he’d gone through his dark baptismal over seven years ago. He was going to make sure no one forgot that he’d been a proper witch for way longer than any of them. “I barely remember mine. How’d they do the whole baptism thing in the dark ages?”





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bohdi krishnan
the savage | outfit | #2d0704


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Bodhi had been up and about since dawn. She needed to look perfect today, not that perfection was any different from her usual décor. Her white dress had arrived from home three weeks earlier, and this morning she’d done her hair and makeup before most of the academy had left their beds. Her hair was sitting perfectly, and her look was completed with two diamond studs and a small, insanely expensive, diamond pendant. After getting ready she’d headed to library determined to get a bit of study in today, around all the formalities.

Bodhi uncrossed and recrossed her legs as she reread the same paragraph for the fifth time without taking in a single word. The large dusty tomb in front of her was supposed to explain the history of nature magic in Thailand, but it might as well have been one of the bodice ripper novels her mother read for the all the information she was absorbing from it. Today was an important day, but waiting for it was killing Bodhi who had little patience at the best of times.

She recalled her father’s phone call that morning. He talked endlessly about how important today was, and how important it was that Bodhi made their family proud. Just thinking about the phone call had Bodhi’s hand crumpling the page she held. She couldn’t help that thoughts that flittered through her head, visions of wrapping her hands around her father’s throat and squeezing until he couldn’t speak another word.

She took a deep breath and smoothed out the paper underneath her hand. Constantin, the inky black spider perched on her shoulder, took this as an invitation as he scurried down her arm and across the page of the history book, obscuring the words. She shot him a cold glare but her voice was calm, “Move. Before I rip off one of those legs.” He bowed his front legs, and Bodhi could have sworn he hissed, but he did eventually shuffle aside. And with a sigh, Bodhi returned to the paragraph in front of her determined not to waste the entirety of this morning.





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isaac courtney
the undying | outfit | #934016


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Isaac watched a black shape streak across the sky, Nostradamus. It had to be over 100 years since he’d last seen his familiar and he considered his reappearance a bad omen. Nostradamus didn’t stay long, he just flew a couple circles around Isaac, squawking a few times, before disappearing from whatever hole he’d sprung from. Isaac was left with the thought that he had a lousy excuse for a familiar. There was nothing familiar about Nostradamus, he just came and went as he liked.

Throwing the last of his cigarette into the dirt, Isaac stomped it down with his shoe before heading through the front doors of the New York Academy of the Unseen Arts. It’d been 20 or so years since he’d last walked these halls, but nothing ever really changed. He found his new room pretty quickly and with a single knock he let himself in. “I hope you weren’t expecting this room to yourself for the rest of the year.” He said to his roommate, as he threw his duffel bag and jacket onto the bed that was clearly left untouched for his arrival. He didn’t bother unpacking, he hardly had enough possessions to make it worth it.

Officially, Isaac was enrolled and had received his room assignment two months ago, but he’d gotten a little delayed on the way here – mostly trying to avoid crossing paths with the Anti-Pope himself during the dark baptism. But when news reached him that Lucifer wasn’t making an appearance, he’d booked a red-eye flight from Abu Dhabi. No doubt his roommate would have questions about his two months absence, and now sudden appearance without warning.

Isaac yawned and rubbed at the stubble sprouting across his face, he was exhausted, not only was he jetlagged, but he hadn’t got any sleep on his journey either. He hated planes, what was so wrong with train carriages, or ships? He pulled a bottle of whiskey out his bag and took a large mouthful, it might have been mid-morning, but it was 5 o’clock somewhere. He held out the bottle to his roommate, “A drink before the ritual slaughtering begins?” It was easy to joke about it when it didn’t affect you and you didn’t care.

Isaac threw the bottle back on to his bed and looked about the small room – this had been the same room he’d been assigned in 1934, thankfully they’d repainted it in a neutral grey since then. He caught a glance of himself in the mirror and decided pretty quickly that they sleep rumpled and slightly sweaty t-shirt he’d worn for the flight probably wasn’t going to cut it at the Dark Baptism. So he ripped off his t-shirt and grabbed a button up shirt from his bag – it was creased from being screwed up in the bag which made a small part of him cringe. After all he’d lived through eras where an unkempt appearance was considered a flaw in of one’s character. While changing, he gave his roommate a good look at the tattoo on his pec, a love heart tattoo with Kelsie written on the inside. Not that he cared for modesty.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Tamsin Reid Character Portrait: Dorian Fawkes Character Portrait: Winifred Blanchard Character Portrait: Michael Navarro Character Portrait: Ivy Bishop Character Portrait: Roman Black

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michael navarro
the heretic | outfit | #87975C

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Michael was surprised he had even slept at all. The gnawing feeling of the signing had been eating him alive all week, but somehow by the grace of God The Dark Lord he was able to sleep soundly for a few hours. He stirred lightly as the sound of Dorian's shuffling awoke him and he waited until he heard the bathroom door close and the shower turn on before slowly propping himself up in bed, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. When he was absolutely sure Dorian was preoccupied he leaned his body over the bed, sticking his hand blindly under as he felt around for the loose board. When his hand bumped into the corner sticking out he quietly moved the board over and grabbed the small box inside.

Anxiety slowly creeped into him, as it aways did when he got the box out. You never know who was truly watching you at any moment at the Academy - but this really couldn't wait. Mitch sat up in bed, scooting up until he felt the backboard press against his shoulder. The box was small, perhaps the size of a small compact wristlet, ornately decorated with jewel toned patterns and small encrusted gems along the top. It had belonged to his mother. Mitch reached above his head feeling along the top of the headboard until his finger brushed against the tip of the nail that awkwardly stuck out from the wood. He had unfortunately discovered the bastard while trying to reach for his Demonology book that he had dropped behind his bed. Mitch pressed the pad of his thumb against the nail slowly, until he felt the familiar sharp sting drawing his hand back quickly. He stared at the small scarlet drop of blood that began to bloom on his finger before pressing it against the box where the lock used to lay. Michael had asked his Aunt Penelope years back on how to lock a box, when she asked the reason he lied saying that Dorian had been getting in his things. If she only knew him. His Aunt graciously taught him the small spell and it brought some of the weight off of his shoulders. Only his blood could unlock it, so even if someone had happened to poke around the loose boards under his bed they still wouldn't be able to open it. A foolproof plan, he had hoped.

Michael felt small pop as it clicked open in front of him, at first the contents seeming rather harmless. Laying inside the velvet lined box were three items - items that could potentially get him killed. Or worse. The first was a small photo of his mother, a grand smile on her face with her arms around a young Michael. He picked it up gently, as if mere touch might make it disintegrate in his hand. Mitch's eyes softened as he ran a finger over the waxy film, he remembered that day so fondly. His mother had picked him up early from school for his birthday taking him to his favorite pastry shop, La Pastisseria, for some mantecados. They spent the rest of the day in the park until the sun stole them away to watch El Chavo del Ocho on the couch til he fell asleep. How he missed his mother, there was never a day he didn't, but the guilt had begun to chip away at him. What would she think if she saw him now? About to sign his life away to Satan himself. Mitch pushed the thought far away in his head placing the photo gingerly back in the box. He glanced at the two most incriminating items in the box - a small pocket bible and a cross necklace.

Mitch tried, several times throughout the years to get rid of the box. But he never could bring himself to do it. It was a part of himself that he never wanted to lose, more than anything he never wanted to be his father. He couldn't deny however that as the days rolled by he seemed ever closer to that dark truth. Michael would get rid of the box, today. He had promised himself that he would do it more than once throughout the week. After all, once he signed his name what point would he have for it anyway. Mitch glanced once more at the smiling face of his mother before closing the box quickly, he couldn't bare to look at her face any longer. The guilt was too much.

At the sound of the shower turning off, his heart leapt out of his chest and he quickly shoved the box under the bed in its little crook placing the board back in place. The second he settled himself back into bed the door opened and he gave a half-smile to Dorian trying to ignore the sound of his heart pounding in his head. "Morning" He said as coolly as possible sliding himself out of bed and walked past Dorian into the bathroom, not even realizing he had been holding his breath. If he had half the mind to pay attention he might of noticed his roommate was just as equally as distressed.

After a long shower and a change into his annoying bright white ensemble Mitch felt a tad more at ease. He had opened the window to their dorm for Barclay and it didn't take long for the hawk to swoop in perching on his bedpost. Mitch affectionally smoothed the feathers on the hawks wings as Dorian spoke drawing his attention. To answer Dorian's question he had indeed thought about it, several times. The correct answer would be to change his name in its entirety, to rid himself of his past and start anew. Not to mention its uncanny tie to the Catholic Church. Mitch was quiet for a moment, as if lost in his own thoughts, before he spoke surprising himself. "Victor" He spoke the name as if he was just trying it for the first time. It was for his mother, Victoria. Michael didn't spare much explanation to Dorian, that was one thing he liked about his roommate. Dorian asked no questions, and Michael did the same in return.

After a small moment of silence, he smiled softly back at Dorian. "I think Pearl has good taste". He gave one more affectionate pat to Barclay and walked around the bed sitting down to face his roommate. "What do you think will happen to us?" He realized how ominous and ambiguous his question sounded, and even though he meant it that way added on to it, to seem less fearful. "I mean, have you ever seen a Dark Baptism before?"







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winifred blanchard
the temptress | outfit | #BF5F28

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Winifred sat poised as usual at her vanity, gently powdering her nose when Tasmin chucked her alarm clock across the room where it splintered into a thousand pieces. Winnie was so used to it at this point the girl didn't even flinch. "Good morning Sleeping Beauty" A hint of teasing in her voice as she glanced at her roommates disheveled appearance through her mirror. The vanity was a new addition. Her mother had it shipped at her request, she had nearly run out of room for all her things in the bathroom and she feared Tamsin would kill her if she took up anymore room.

"Tas, I reminded you yesterday!" She called over her shoulder as the witch stomped her way into the bathroom. Winnie shook her head with a small giggle and turned back to her reflection in the mirror. Everything about her was calculated down to the core, if it wasn't perfect, it wasn't Winnie. Her coppery-red hair fell in effortless waves down her back, and her makeup although light accentuated her full lips and arched brows. Apart from her normal ensemble of reds and blacks, she insisted on picking a dainty, pale yellow, chiffon dress that she had order a month back. It was elegant and perfect for the Dark Baptisms.

Winifred stood up from her vanity, and walked over to her bed where she had laid down a few bracelets and rings to try on and pick. As she ran her hand along a golden cuff, a warm smile appeared on her face as she heard Roman's voice. She closed her eyes as he planted a soft kiss on her cheek, taking the moment to envelope herself in his warmth. Winnie turned to face him, not even hiding the fact that she took a second to look him over before meeting his eyes. "You know, I always thought the all white was a little tacky but - you really put it off love"

Winifred rolled her eyes at his comment about Tamsin, "you think all that sleep would make her a little more cheery". With her incredibly perfect timing Tamsin begrudgingly stumbled back into the room, scowling at Roman's presence. Winnie quite enjoyed their back-to-back banter, Roman was never afraid to push Tamsin's buttons. But, neither was Winnie. As the two exchanged insults, she busied herself with settling on a few pieces of jewelry, fastening on a thick gold bracelet with matching earrings. Winnie finally turned her attention back to Tas only to be lectured about sex, typical. The witch acted as if they were rabbits in heat for satan's sake. Besides, Tamsin clearly had no idea how long it took Winifred to curl her hair this morning. Winifred barely had time to even tell her roommate bye before the door closed behind her. She flicked her gaze back to Roman a small sigh on her lips. "Isn't she just a delight?"

She made her way over to her closet, which in her opinion was too damn small even after she had Ivy use an expansion charm on it. Winnie sifted through her shoes - she had enough for a small village - until she settled on a pair of black Louboutins. Sitting on the trunk at the edge of her bed, she began to put her heels on glancing over her shoulder back to Roman. "I would hate to ruin your outfit on your special day, Darling. And if I don't have you to admire during the ceremony, I don't think I could sit through the damned thing" She said standing up after putting on her heels. Making her way back over to the bed she gave him a rather sultry look leaning down towards his ear. "Besides, it would give me more time to think about how I'm going to get it all off of you" She planted a small, lingering kiss on the side of his jaw before pulling away to smile at him once more.

"Of course, I mean there's always doubts, but everybody goes through with it" And Winifred did fully believe that everyone would go through with it. When it boiled down to it, how could they not? "Why? You're not having second thoughts are you love?" She cocked her head to the side slightly, one of her perfectly arched brows raised in question.

A small look of remembrance overtook her face suddenly and she clasped her hands together, her bracelets jingling like a wind chime. "I almost forgot, I got you something!" She dashed over to the trunk at the end of her bed, opening it grabbing a small, perfectly wrapped golden box placing it in his hands. "It's not much, just a small 'graduation' gift" A slight giggle bubbled out of her lips at her own little joke. Inside was a mint condition, 18k gold, 1956 Rolex Ovettone. She knew how much Roman adored vintage fashion and once she thought of it she couldn't resist. It took both her brother's help, a complicated summoning spell, and maybe some arm twisting but she had been excited to give it to him for weeks.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Ivy Bishop

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ivy bishop
the lover | outfit | #A794A7


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Ivy had been up for hours at this point as she locked herself in the herbalism classroom with music playing in order to take full advantage of Roman being too busy preparing for his Dark Baptism to one, pester her and two, be in the room so they had to share their workspace. Besides, with all the nerves from those around her, she felt the need to ‘recharge’ her charm so that everyone else didn’t shake her. Not to mention she was going to see her whole family together for the first time in a decade. The Bishops while somewhat infamous for their strong connection to the mortal world did produce some quite impressive children. All the Bishop children were held in high regards in their society with respected positions that required them to be all over the world and rarely leaving time to come back home even her mothers were coming back after spending years in the Vatican. That was enough to make her stomach twist and turn and make her stress levels rise when they told her. She needed to be at her absolute best, in every sense of the word from her appearance to her bright attitude being right as they left it. The small young witch took a deep breath as she pushed her hands back, pushing the curly strands of hair that had slipped out of her short ponytail from her scurrying around the room looking for everything she needed. “Okay.” She said softly as she checked off everything in her mind before looking at the time on her phone. Plenty of time. She climbed on a chair to grab a cauldron from high up before having it land with a bang on the table. Atlas meowed from the chair he was on, causing his owner to jump and almost lose her footing. “I locked the room down for a reason.” He always was the master of finding a way to slip in and out of places he shouldn’t be. Like master, like familiar. But, she didn’t need her familiar’s constant droning about how she was using the necklace as a security blanket, that it wasn’t healthy for her to keep all the bad and negative feelings locked away for so long, and of course, she should just let the darkness in. She had her mother, Ruthy for that. “I don’t have time for your critiques.”

“Not critiquing, just watching and reminding you.”

She rolled her eyes. “Of what?” The snark and annoyance she tried to hide really were coming out quicker than usual. “Gloves, unless you want those pretty hands to rot off.” She softly groaned before making a pair appear in her hands. The girl hopped down, her small heels hitting the ground with a loud clack. She glanced at her phone once more to see that her mother, Ruthy had texted her telling her how she couldn’t wait to see her. Everything needed to be perfect, not for her but for them. Ivy needed to prove to them she wasn’t just the baby ‘Ivy Leaf’ they watched sign her name in the Book of the Beast all those years ago. They needed to see that she was a mature, wise, and sophisticated young lady who knew how to take care of herself and stay out of trouble (no matter how true that was).

She was so busy going over all of this in her head, her stress making her brain go around and around that she didn’t even realize that she was almost done with her concoction. She silently cursed to herself before slowly unlatching her crescent necklace, staring at it for a moment, and softly tossing it in. She let it sit in the bubbling brew as she turned her attention to her phone to finally respond to her mother who at this point had texted her three more times and started reminiscing about Ivy’s Dark Baptism. Satan in Hell, it felt like just yesterday she had signed her own name in the Book of the Beast finally restoring the lost respect and honor to the Bishop name after the two Bishops before they decided to go down the Path of Light and left all traces of their past life, their family, friends, all of it behind them in order to live a mundane life as mortals. The eldest three of the children had already made a name for themselves in the Church when Ivy signed. She can still remember the excitement she felt, the buzzing of nerves and the knot in her stomach tightening as she walked towards Father Proctor, and of course, the overwhelming look of pride on her mothers’ face. They promised they never wanted to pressure Ivy into signing but, she still felt the need to make them proud at any costs. She knew and still does that they, like most of the coven believed if there was one person who wouldn’t sign it would be little Ivy Bishop and even if she did, she’d run off just like her mother. But it was never a question for her. After becoming a part of the Church, she wanted nothing more than committing herself to the Dark Lord for the remainder of her life. She had prepared for that moment since she was 18 and when it finally came it was nothing short of perfect. She still had a slight scar on her hand from where she was cut to remind her of that day. And now while the rest of the Bishop clan looked the same as they did once signing the Book of the Beast, Agatha was an aging old woman and her brothers, Fabian and Desmond have been long been buried. But that was just the guilt in her mind festering quickly without the effect of her spell.

She investigated the boiling cauldron in front of her, watching the gold chain of the necklace swirl around before turning her attention to the time. One minute too long and it could disappear before her eyes, one minute short and it’d be as ineffective as it was when she was a child. Atlas moved from his chair and on the table to next to his master who was still messing with her spell, twirling her hands in small circles as she recited the spell, she had long memorized, ending with a ‘poof’. She smirked towards the black cat as she put on her gloves and reached in for the necklace. After drying it off, she quickly clasped it shut around her neck. Perfect. With her spell done, she quickly did a spell to make the mess disappear as she looked at her reflection for what felt like the 100th time since walking in. She undid her ponytail, letting her short, curly locks fall and frame her face as she fixed her bangs and fixed the ruby red lipstick, she had gotten from Winnie just for the occasion. She looked completely different than she did most other days with a surprising amount of black and lace but, she looked great, nonetheless. With her slightly plunging, the lacey black dress barely sweeping across the floor with a pair of scarlet red heels peeking from underneath. She fit right in with not only the rest of the Church but within the Bishop family as well. “Ready for the festivities?” Ivy turned to Atlas and smiling before walking towards the doors with her familiar in tow.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Tamsin Reid Character Portrait: Bones Burroughs Character Portrait: Lucia DuBois

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the glutton | outfit | #FD0E53
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Lucia never slept much, usually only long enough for the last of the alcohol to leave her system. Last night she fell asleep with her legs wrapped around the lucky warlock she went home with, bathing in the last of the moonlight. She awoke before the morning dew settled. This was a day she had been looking forward to for quite some time. For a long time she had associated it with dread, like some time bomb designed by Lucifer himself. Now that it was here, all she could feel was enthralled.

All of her life the Dark Lord has made sure she never forgot her life was his, now it was time to sign it in blood. She watched the sky as it changed from dark blues, to shades of orange and blood red, the joyous day finally upon them. Leaves crushing beneath her bare feet as she walked over the ground. Her jacket slipped down her narrow shoulders, revealing the lace bodice of her white dress. The wind whispered against her skin, like Lucifer’s breath enveloping her.

Most mornings she managed to make through sober, though Lucia never went without a cigarette or several. Tucked behind the stoop leading to the Academy was a tin can filled with her cigarette butts. It made her feel incredibly mundane, sneaking a morning smoke. Almost human, even. But it was beautiful, those moments before reality set in. The sound of rustling caught her attention, the bushes along the academy walls moving.

Lucia leaned forward with curiosity, brow furrowed. With a leap and a yap, Pascal emerged from the bush. A smile graced Lucia’s lips as the fox circled her legs, his maw wet from his recent kill. Lucia bent over to scoop her familiar up, careful not to get blood on her baptismal dress. Pascal whined, nuzzling Lucia for affection smearing red along the length of her neck. Throwing aside her half-smoked cigarette, Lucia pulled in the familiar closer heading back into the Academy with him in her arms.

The Academy had begun to awaken, Lucia could hear the sound of people preparing for the day. Until the night there wasn’t much else she could do, except wait. Lucia tried, every morning she tried putting off that first drink for as long as possible. Not that she cared what others thought, just that it was harder to walk that line between drunk and passed out wasted when she started earlier in the day. Here there was constantly liquor available, hell they were even encouraged to partake in libations. To lower their inhibitions. Not that Lucia ever had a problem with that.

She hovered over the bar, Pascal scurrying from her arms and out of sight. Likely to return to the forest, too wild to stay inside. Lucia could relate. Her hand rested over the bottle neck, eyes closed. There was something calming in the ritual, maybe if she prolonged it long enough that’s all she’d need. After all, all Lucia ever wanted was a distraction. When Lucia went to open the bottle, she held it close in her embrace as she reached for a glass. Pouring herself the first glass, Lucia twisted her wrist as she muttered an incantation – the fireplace coming alit.

Lucia circled around to sit in front of the fire, bringing the bottle with. The den wasn’t prone to much foot traffic, so she had some time to herself before people began poking around. It was much too early and she was much too sober to do any socializing just yet. She swirled the burgundy elixir in her glass, inhaling it’s bouquet. There was no sense in delaying the inevitable. Lucia wasted no time in the pretense of self-control. She finished the first glass and poured herself another, then another until the bottle was gone.

It would take a lot more than that to get her drunk. Lucia threw the empty bottle into the fireplace, watching the flames flare as the glass shattered. She wiped at her wine stained lips, smearing a deep berry shade across them to disguise her indulgence. She couldn’t spend the whole day getting drunk in a dark corner, how ever much she might like to. Slipping into a bathroom unseen, Lucia locked the door behind her.

What a sight. Dried blood stained her neck from Pascal’s affections. Her eyes had dark circles beneath them from lack of sleep and habitual drug and alcohol use. She splashed water on her skin, washing the blood away. She touched up underneath her eyes, trying to make herself seem less tired. Reaching into her jacket pocket she withdrew her cigarettes, shaking out a little baggie wrapped in foil. Just a bump, for now....

Most of the witches and warlocks were pacing the halls, preparing for the baptism. Lucia just followed the smell of cigarettes, unsurprised when she found Tamsin at the end of it's trail. Bones sat on the couch behind her, posed in anticipation for an answer. Lucia raised her arms, her lips split into a smile.

“Oh, is this where we’re smoking?” Lucia asked, collapsing onto the couch beside Bones. She lit a cigarette, looking at Bones and Tamsin with mild intrigue. When she spoke her accent was thick. She had never bothered to try to lose it. Why would anyone ever want to sound less French? She gestured between the two of them with her lit cigarette, giving them a playful wink. "Don't mind me, mon chéris. Please, carry on with what I'm sure was r i v e t i n g conversation.”

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Tamsin Reid Character Portrait: Constance Lamotte Character Portrait: Winifred Blanchard Character Portrait: Josie Jaiyen Character Portrait: Casper Reid Character Portrait: Isaac Courtney Character Portrait: Emrys Proctor Character Portrait: Roman Black Character Portrait: Rian Goulding

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#, as written by barnes
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J O S I E x J A I Y E N

the fury xx outfit xx #f0c0c0

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Sleepless nights were not a common occurrence for Josie; this one, though, was one for the books.

She had no reason to be nervous. All she had to do was show up in white and sign her name in the book. She'd even picked out her baptismal name - Saengdao. An unusual name, to be sure, but her father had suggested it in the last letter received from home. It means "starlight", and what better than the glitter of a burning star in the cold night sky? The perfect name for my perfect daughter.

Still Josie's heart could not be calmed. She had slept on and off all night, the glow of her clock piercing through the darkness every few hours when she found herself awake again. At last the hour hand pointed at six, and Josie rolled out of bed, ducking into the bathroom for a quick shower and to change into her dress. It was beautiful - a simple silhouette, but the material was silk-smooth and so light, it almost felt like she was wearing nothing at all. The dress had arrived along with her parents' last letter, folded neatly into a brown paper package. See you soon, was marked on the attached card, which was all her mother had to say. Margaery Waterhouse had always been a woman of few words (and many spells, but that was to be expected).

By seven Josie was sitting at her desk, gently patting cold cream onto her face and neck. She tried to move quietly, so she wouldn't bother Constance, but at that moment Bellamy chose to uncurl himself from where he had been lying on her pillow and take a running leap onto Josie's shoulder. Josie put an arm up to stop him, which resulted in his claws digging into her wrist as his back legs scrabbled for purchase in midair. She tried to grab him around the middle - he squirmed out of her grasp and darted across the table, knocking a glass bottle off the table and leaping into the safety of a bag on the floor, flicking his tail in what was clearly a grumpy manner. The bottle clattered loudly to the floor, the sound echoing around the room in the relative silence.

Now Josie was properly awake. She sighed, stooping to retrieve the bottle - which wasn't broken, thank goodness - and set it back on her desk. Her wrist was fine too, bar a few red marks where her familiar's front paws had been. "Sorry," she whispered apologetically at Constance, reaching into the bag to grab Bellamy. He chirped indignantly at her, a high, clipped sound. Josie set him back on the bed, and touched a fingertip to the top of his head, a gentle admonishment. "You stay right there and don't make a mess."

Her morning routine completed, there was little else left for Josie to do. If she had the option to, she would have gone back to sleep for a couple of hours, maybe make sure she was well-rested for the day ahead, but she was entirely too on edge to go back to sleep. Instead, she packed some items into her purse and left the room, not bothering to say goodbye to Constance. Bellamy hurried out of the door after her just in time, trotting alongside her as she made her way to the dining room.

Few people were out and about, and Josie had the luxury of solitude for once. It was odd to be alone, she mused to herself, fetching a plate of fruit pastries and settling herself at the end of one of the long tables, careful not to crease her dress. Often she surrounded herself with so many people, she didn't quite have time for herself. But now she was alone, with the room to herself, save for Bellamy beside her stealing bites of her pastry when he thought she wasn't looking.

Maybe it would do to take her mind off what awaited her. Josie pulled a book out of her purse, beginning to read as she ate. Soon she wasn't thinking of the baptism at all.




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C A S P E R x R E I D

the honourable xx outfit xx #1e6262

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Between Casper and Tamsin's habits, it's pretty safe to say that the average waking time of the Reids at the Academy was not too early. Yet (for what was probably the first time that year), Casper was up by the first ring of his alarm, zipping through his routine of shaving and getting dressed - none too quietly, as was his custom. "Aren't you excited for All Hallow's Eve?" he enthused in Emrys's general direction, not even stopping to see if his roommate was up or not.

Perched on the headboard, Portia cooed affectionately at her master when he reached over to ruffle her feathers. All the same, she scrunched herself down, closing her eyes. Casper could be up early, but she wanted to sleep more, and would no doubt search for him later on when she was well rested. "All right, sleepyhead," Casper laughed, trying to press a kiss to her beak. "See you later." She flapped a wing at him, more annoyed than mad, and went right back to sleep.

First stop on Casper's list was Tamsin's room. More than likely she was still asleep. It wasn't too far from his own room, so Casper zipped over, rapping twice on the door. He allowed barely a second to pass before he tried the knob, which gave way under his hands - he made a mental note to remind Tamsin to keep her door locked - and stuck his head in. Tamsin was, to his surprise, not in; instead he found himself staring at her roommate Winnie... and Roman.

"Oh." Casper stopped short, looking from one to the other, flustered. Everyone knew the two of them regularly had... relations, and for the most part he tried to keep his nose out of their business. At least both of them were clothed, he would hate to be forced to wash his eyes out with bleach afterward. "Sorry," he finally offered, shrugging. "Hope I didn't interrupt anything. Maybe lock your door next time." And leaving them with that suggestion, he withdrew his head and shut the door quickly.

So Tamsin wasn't in her room. Perhaps in the Sanctum? It was highly unlikely she'd turn up to work so early, but then again it was an unusual day. So it was off to the Sanctum this time, Casper running across the school grounds in the direction of the building. Turning a corner, he almost bumped into a teacher - one of the female ones, judging by the sound of surprise she made - but Casper was off in a shot, yelling an apology over his shoulder. Eventually he turned up at the Sanctum, barely even breaking a sweat. Yet even after looking through the shelves, Casper couldn't find Tamsin - the place was completely empty. Once he even chanced to call her name, as loudly as he dared, but there was no answer.

He glanced at the clock, exasperated. He didn't have any more time to spend on looking for his wayward cousin. His parents had already sent notice that they would be arriving extra early that day, just so they could spend time with him before the ritual, and he had to be at the school gates to meet them. And it was almost time.

Reluctantly, Casper left the Sanctum, heading for the school gates. Just as the huge iron structure came into view, a car pulled through the gates, trundling up to the front door. Casper jogged up to the car, his heart swelling at the thought of seeing his parents. "Hey, Mom-"

He stopped short. Both his parents stepped out of the car, but that wasn't all the passengers present. His mother helped a third figure to her feet, and Casper found himself looking down at a diminutive frame, severe grey hair curling around her face. "Grandma Ophelia!" he spluttered, surprised. "I didn't know you'd be coming!"

"Well, I wanted to see how you're doing here. Make sure you're getting a good education," his great-grandmother huffed, grabbing his elbow for support as the car pulled away. "After this, you won't see me until next year when it's your turn, so don't look so dismayed. I'm only here for a day."

But Casper couldn't help his expression, looking up at his parents with wide eyes as he helped Ophelia into the building, her grumbling the whole time. He had to get hold of Tamsin and make sure she was well out of the way.




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R I A N x G O U L D I N G

the void xx outfit xx #fcb514

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Rian was up with the first rays of sun peeking over the horizon, moving mechanically through the movements - brush teeth, shave, comb hair, get dressed. Only today was a special day, of course - the occasion had slipped his mind until he opened his closet to find a white suit, pressed and starched in preparation for today. A thought surfaced briefly in his mind: Today I sign away my name. It didn't inspire any particular emotion in him, and it had sunk back into the mire as quickly as it had come.

He settled himself at his desk, glancing at a small mirror propped in a corner to make sure his hair was properly slicked back. It was. The table's surface, for the most part, was empty, except for two letters which lay in front of him. One was postmarked a week ago; it was brief, and vaguely apologetic. Rian skimmed the page, for no real reason other than to look at the looping, confident letters. Dear Valerian... sorry to say we won't... perhaps next year we might make the trip down... all our love.

That was fine with him. He hadn't really expected anything else. At least his mother had the decency to write to him.

The second letter was much older, the creases in the paper worn and familiar. The ink was smudged and faded in some spots, and the handwriting was cramped and uneven, scrawled in a shaking hand. All the same, Rian could read it perfectly; could probably recite it by heart if he tried. Darling Rian, you mustn't miss me too much... Do look after yourself. I hope you will remain cheerful and strong... and for Lucifer's sake don't pick a name like mine when you get baptised. I would die if you had such an awful name as George. Pick something beautiful, please... Love you always, Anna.

Rian felt no surprise when he moved to put the letters away and found his hands shaking. The first one from his parents was swept away into a drawer, lying haphazardly with a number of similar letters. They all read the same after a while. The second one, the one from his sister, was folded and tucked away neatly into his wallet. "I didn't," he told the sheet of folded paper, looking at it a moment longer before he put his wallet away too. "But you'd probably laugh at what I chose anyway."

His wallowing was interrupted by a single, sharp knock at the door, followed immediately by someone coming in. "I hope you weren’t expecting this room to yourself for the rest of the year," was all the warning Rian had, watching silently as a dark-haired man crossed the room to the empty bed and tossed his things onto it. Rian hadn't, not really, but when everyone else's roommates had moved in and he had been left alone for a couple of months he felt it had been reasonable to grow accustomed to the silence and the empty space. At least he'd been respectful and refrained from allowing his things to migrate to the other side, just in case anyone moved in late.

And now someone had. Rian offered no greeting, instead surveying his new roommate. Tall, and dressed in rather rumpled clothes - oh, and now he was taking a drink from a bottle and offering it to Rian. "A drink before the ritual slaughtering begins?"

Why the hell not. Accepting the bottle, Rian tilted his head back and let the alcohol burn its way down his throat, then handed it back. "Thanks," he began, voice a little raspy from the whiskey. He supposed he should at least introduce himself. "I'm Valerian. Rian." His roommate didn't seem to worry too much about privacy, stripping his shirt off before Rian could look away. "You're... late. Travelling?" he continued, eyeing the other's meagre possessions.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Constance Lamotte Character Portrait: Ivy Bishop Character Portrait: Josie Jaiyen Character Portrait: Lucia DuBois

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constance lamotte
the traitor | outfit | #863348


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Constance slept like the dead, knowing full well she wanted to be well-rested for today’s activities. Where after what felt like an eternity, she would be signing her name in the Book of the Beast, welcoming the Dark Lord into her heart for all time and being given immense power and couldn’t wait. Her parents have prepared her for this and even after their deaths, she prepared herself. With her birthday being just the day prior, Constance postponed any and all celebrations until the night of their Dark Baptism. Which she knows killed Luci, but she’d get over it and Constance would make it up to her friend tonight with a small trinket. Everything had to be and, of course, was perfect; her outfit, her hair, her Baptismal name, her sacrifice, everything was ready.

The best part about today was that she had no pesky relatives to entertain: her parents were dead, night father, father figure, uncle, dead, most of her church family was burnt to a crisp when her church back home went up in flames after their attempted treason, and well, the rest of them, both mother’s and father’s sides, decided to keep their distance from the 'black sheep' of the family. While nothing was tied back to her, obviously because a good liar knows exactly how to cover their tracks, it hasn’t stopped relatives from talking and spreading what they think happened. Damien’s way finally caught up to him when her daughter played a role in his demise. I mean, the rumors were right, but they didn't have any proof of that. The Laveau’s rarely chose to leave the safety of New Orleans (and saw her as bad juju) while Lamotte’s had a completely different reason to stay away. They were afraid of her; a girl willing to turn on her own father? A man seen as untouchable all throughout the South. She was something to fear and stay away from like the plague. Constance still thinks its because they have a few rats that slipped through the cracks. But, all the Lamotte’s were one way or another, the whole lot of them were just like her; opportunists, waiting to try and make their way to the top of the heap of the Lamotte family where Constance silently and somewhat secretly reigned.

But, despite what most thought, they didn't hate her. Quite the opposite, they respected her almost as much as they feared her, knowing that if she caught any whiff of weakness, she would eat them alive. Which was the closest thing to love one could ask for from a Lamotte. They sent her a few presents and congratulatory letters, that was all she needed. She didn’t anyone taking the eyes off of her on her special day (yes, she knew it wasn’t technically just her day but, in her mind, it was).

She had finally been woken up when the bottle hit the floor, opening her eyes and immediately sitting up in bed just to see Josie leave her in the solitude of their room. Constance kind of pitied her, she could hear her roommate stirring most of the night, probably buzzing with excitement like everyone else. She slipped her bonnet off to reveal her freshly done finger waves underneath before getting out of bed to start her routine. But, not without a long glance at herself in her mirror. She ran her slender fingers along her jaw, her white claw-like nails softly scratching her skin. Only snapping out of it, when Valentine slithered from under her pillow. With a small smile, she let her familiar make his way up her arm and around her neck before offering him a small peck.

Within an hour or so, Constance was completely done, sure she could have done everything magically, but she wanted to absorb every moment of this day and just savor it. Her makeup done slightly different to fit with the virginal look of her flawless white gown with her putting on the final touch; an inverted cross necklace that she ‘borrowed’ from her father before he was buried. He wore it to his Dark Baptism, as did his father, and his father before him, and she refused to let the selfish, traitorous bastard be buried with it. It fit right under the collar of her gown, out of sight. With a growing smile and a small tear slipping out, Constance let out a sigh. Tilted her head up as she twirled her gown and looked at herself from every angle. Unholy shit, if little Constance could see her future counterpart, she wouldn’t believe in the woman she became. She was everything she dreamed she’d be; powerful, beautiful, and destined for greatness. It was all starting tonight. Constance groaned as she noticed the tear and wiped it away quickly as if at any moment someone would come in and see her tearing up at herself.

pcolor=#863348]“C’mon, Val. Time to address the masses.”[/color] Val made his way back on his perch around his master’s arm before the two left the room in search of interaction to make the time fly but, more than anyone; Luci. That impulsive drunkard had to be around here somewhere, she obviously didn’t find her way into Constance’s room last night after whatever mischief she had gotten into, whining to be held by Constance because she was a fiend for physical contact and it was doubtful she fell asleep in her own bed alone last night seeing that today was the big day both of them had been waiting for most of their lives. All Connie was hoping was that she didn’t go too hard and dead in a ditch somewhere.

Ah, just the orphan she needed to see, Ivy Bishop. Alone without one of her numerous bodyguards. Perfect. “Excuse me, puppy.” Ivy sighed before turning around to face her tormentor who has a shit-eating smirk on her face. “Hi, Constance. Happy Dark Baptism.” The towering woman faked a smile before it faltered, and the smirk returned. “Have you seen your roommate today?” Ivy shook her head. “Nope, I've been at--..” Constance held up a hand. “I didn’t ask for all that. Do you know where she might be?” Ivy took a deep breath, trying to keep the smile on her face as she shrugged her shoulders. Man, messing with the runt was fun, Constance could see the façade slipping away for a brief moment. “She’s your other half, you’d know before me but no, I wouldn’t. She didn’t come to the room last night. Can you just make sure she's okay.” Ivy smiled brightly. Constance could never tell if it was real or if the little puppy was just being passive-aggressive. The witch shook her head. “Aw, puppy, I'm not her keeper, she's fine.” Constance walked away without another word, of course, she was going to make sure she was okay, she knew she was fine, but Ivy didn't need to know that. Constance kept walking for anyone to help pass the time.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Bodhi Krishnan Character Portrait: Neona Ki Character Portrait: Desdemona Proctor Character Portrait: Emrys Proctor

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━━━━━━━ DESDEMONA PROCTOR
the empressXXXXattire: xXXXX hex: #a2a7b8
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━━━━━━━━━━ EMRYS PROCTOR
the necromancerXXXXattire: xXXXX hex: #b8a7a2
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━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ NEONA KI
the avariceXXXXattire: xXXXX hex: #896767
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The room was warm with the scent of sage, the candles flickered with growing fervor, casting wanton shadows on the wall. As the warlock's incantations grew steadily more fervent, the shadows turned to hands, grasping and reaching, clawing at the walls of the room as though trying to climb them. The spirits were listening, and they were answering- but they weren't the spirits he wanted.

"Led by the scent of sage, Abel veni foras. By the mark of my blood, Abel veni foras. By the lure of my will,
Abel veni foras!"

He opened his eyes, and the room was far larger than it had been before, and devoid of everything except the mark he had made in blood on the floor. On the plane, his hand was flawless and unmarred; evidence of his projection unto a world separate to his own. He got to his feet, and called into the dark. "Abel!" He felt a hand reach for his shoulder, but shook it off once he saw the spirit's solemn face. An irrelevant soul. One with a message, probably, but not one he cared to hear. "Abel, are you out there?" More reaching hands, more spirits with stories and messages and a yearning for warm touch. He pushed through the growing crowd, "Where-" A retreating back that looked too familiar- the same cloudy locks, the same narrow shoulders. "Abel? Abel! Wait!" He moved with desperate abandon, clawing through the space, through the spectres. But the distance between them only seemed to grow, and suddenly he felt as though he were wading through water, like running in a dream. "Abel, please! Stop!" The figure paused, and hope caught in the warlock's throat. He was so close- Abel was so close. 'Abel' turned slightly, his face obscured in the dark.

And then he turned back, and kept walking, and Emrys blinked to find himself back in his room, the candles blown out, and the shadows returned to their rightful place. Standing up, his right hand was slightly sticky from the cut across his palm, and his cheeks were wet with tears of frustration. Taking a moment to catch his breath, Emrys promptly began to destroy his bedroom.

He was minutes into his rampage when the glutton appeared at his door, poking her head through to catch the shocking sight of his anger unleashed. He hadn't expected to get caught in the act, but his eyes still saw red, and he had no energy for explanations or excuses.

"Get out."
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On the eve of a number of Dark Baptisms, Emrys wasn't alone in his sleeplessness. Neo saw them- her parents, holding out their hands. Their smiles were warm, their words welcoming. But when she reached to hold them, their faces melted like wax, and their hands turned to ash in her own. Screams echoed about her as she found herself falling, and when she finally awoke, she was in a cold sweat.

By the time morning hit, however, one could never tell.

Her attire was adjusted in silence, her face unyielding, giving away no sense of a whirring mind, nor a deepset resentment. Nor the touch of concern.

She had never gotten to write her name in the Book of the Beast- she did not entirely know the ramifications that would follow. Perhaps the ills she planned to commit once she amassed enough power would result in a terrible fate. Perhaps she would burn. Then again, perhaps she would be rewarded for her dedication to revenge, her commitment to vindication. Perhaps He liked that in his witches.

To be honest, it was all only so relevant. It raised curiosities, and slight concerns, but it didn't cause her to waver. Nothing did, and nothing would.

She had a thirst to sate, and this was just another sip from the goblet.

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Desdemona smiled at her reflection, as she was wont to. She wanted to ask Bodhi what she thought, but the girl, ever studious, had promptly left for the library early that morning. She tutted with annoyance as she once again noted her friend's absence, instead turning to Corvus, who sensed her gaze from his perch on her bedframe, and lazily opened one of his slate grey eyes. "Thoughts?" He gave her a long, considering look before his eyes shut again and he returned to his dozing. Des scowled.

"Asshole."

By the time she was finally satisfied with her appearance, Corvus had finally risen, giving her an apologetic nuzzle for his earlier sleepy dismissal before taking flight from her window. Des watched him go before taking one more glance in the mirror, leaving her room satisfied that, her night or not, she wouldn't be upstaged.

Emrys' own time spent getting ready had been considerably less enjoyable; his mind and sleep disrupted by memories of the series of events from the evening prior. He had never felt so close before, but instead of giving him hope, it had left him more resentful than ever, and he glared at his reflection, eyes touched by the shadows of sleeplessness.

"You look tired."

Emrys was used to Des just wandering in, and didn't even spare her a glance before replying.

“It's just nerves."

It was a lie, and an obvious one too. Des knew fully well that Emrys didn't get nerves. All the same, she could read the room even better than she could read her brother, and knew better than to pry. Or she should have, but then again, it was an important day, and after a moment of consideration, she decided that the air would taste better cleared.

“Still no luck with-?”

The never-cowed witch fell silent upon meeting his cool glower. Her first instinct should have been listened to; Emrys was clearly not in a sharing mood. Not even with her. She allowed her look of concern to turn into a reluctant smile, smoothly changing the subject. Whatever was responsible for the dark circles under Emrys' eyes, it could wait. After all, they had an important task ahead of them, and if she had any clue as to the source of Emrys' ire, another day of waiting would be little difference.

“Right, let’s get going, brother dearest. Bodhi should still be in the library. We'll pick up Neo on the way.” Befitting his mood, although he was indeed in the process of building up his usual pantomime of unwavering confidence, Emrys said nothing, sliding his hands into his pockets and following his sister as he had long-since learnt to.

By the time they met with Neona, and the two girls had exchanged their obligatory compliments, the mirage was flawless, and he glowed as the trio made their way to the library, finding Bodhi in her usual seat. Leaning over her, Des looked her up and down with a smile.

“I like it. Very 60's-housewife-married-to-a-millionaire-and-fucking-the-pool-boy.”

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Tamsin Reid Character Portrait: Dorian Fawkes Character Portrait: Bones Burroughs Character Portrait: Winifred Blanchard Character Portrait: Michael Navarro Character Portrait: Roman Black Character Portrait: Lucia DuBois

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dorian fawkes
the charlatanx|xoutfitx|x#8BA3A6

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"Victor," Michael replied to the presented question.

Dorian nodded his head as he scooped up Pearl into his palm. He raised his hand up so that the chameleon could slowly climb her way onto his shoulder, perched on him like a parrot. "Michael Victor Navarro has a nice ring to it." He didn't know the meaning behind his roommates choice in baptismal name, nor did he need to. As long as Mitch liked it, that was good enough in his eyes. Dorian's name had no meaning what so ever, besides choosing something that sounded... right.

"I think Pearl has good taste."

"Be careful," Dorian mused as his index finger rubbed under Pearl's chin. "You compliment her too much, she might start getting an ego." The lizard playfully nipped at his finger at his comment. He smiled before his gaze fell to his hands. It was strange that his closest friend was his familiar. She was the only one who knew all of his truths, yet stuck beside him. A thought that should be of comfort, but part of him wished she didn't follow him down this path. She wouldn't listen.

"What do you think will happen to us?" Dorian looked back across the room toward Mitch. "I mean, have you ever seen a Dark Baptism before?"

He always heard, if you're going to lie have it as rooted in truth as possible. Makes the lie more believable. He had been to a Dark Baptism before... his own. Dorian cleared his throat before he spoke. "Yeah, at my old coven. I don't remember it being all that earth shattering." His brows furrowed as he tried to recall what it was like, attempting to imagine it from a spectators view. "But prepare to be... de-robed in front of the entire coven. Not completely naked but, down to underwear."

It felt like such a long time ago since he had his own Dark Baptism. Dorian couldn't help but dread the evening. What did happen when someone signed the book of the beast twice? Would this be it? The moment Lucifer smites him from existence? He tried not to think about it too much as he raised his hand to rub the back of his neck. His gaze drifted over to the clock where he saw the time. They would be expected at the Desecrated Church soon. It wasn't too terribly long until the witching hour.

Dorian slowly stood, dusting off and straightening his pants. "I think I might need a drink before I go through with this. Care to join?" He moved his way toward their door, opening it, then motioning his hand toward Mitch in a silent offering. Neither one of them looked overly thrilled about the days events. Liquid courage seemed like it might be necessary. But if his friend didn't want to join, Dorian never minded grabbing a drink by himself.




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tamsin reid
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"Hey Tam." She froze in the middle of putting eyeliner around her left eye, cigarette dangling from her lips. Tamsin nearly rolled her eyes at the nickname. She was never a fan of any sort of abbreviation of her name. She wasn't always that way, before she went and fucked everything up, her friends always called her Tam or Tammy. But that person was dead.

Her gaze drifted over to Bones who took a seat against the wall opposite her. If it was anyone else, Tamsin would have half a mind to blow her smoke in their face to shoo them away. But even she wasn't that big of a bitch when it came to him. She had finished her eyeliner and capped the black charcoal when he spoke up again. "Let me guess, Roman’s screwing Win’s brains out right about now?"

Tamsin chuckled as she took a long drag from her cig, being sure to blow the smoke in the opposite direction. "No. But they make sex eyes at each other when they aren't naked." She rolled her eyes slightly as she leaned back against the wall behind her. All the while, Cesare began to coil around her ankle. "I can only handle so much of Roman propositioning me into a threesome." Her right index and middle finger took the cigarette from her lips and motioned toward him. "Although you're welcome to join them. The rabbits are always looking for new victims."

She took the moment of silence to sort out what remained of her appearance. Tamsin didn't particularly care about looking attractive or presentable. Half of the people at the academy avoided her like she had the plague, she just liked to keep up appearances. When she was finished, she carefully unraveled Cesare from her leg and draped him across her shoulders.

"They’re all so fucking nervous," Bones said as he watched anxious Witches and Warlocks in white scurry around.

Tamsin exhaled smoke through her nose as she scanned the others Bone's mentioned. "What do you expect? They're literally about to sell their souls to the biggest asshole to ever exist." Oh yeah, she was taunting the Dark Lord. What was he going to do? Murder her? She wished. She took one last drag from her cigarette before putting it out on the bottom of her boot and tossing the butt out the window. "I was a fucking idiot for doing it."

"I barely remember mine. How’d they do the whole baptism thing in the dark ages?"

Tamsin actually snorted at the bad crack at her age. Before she could reply, Lucia showed up, drawn to the scent of nicotine like moths to a flame. "Oh, is this where we’re smoking?" The woman was dressed it white like a lot of the others wondering around, but didn't carry their anxiousness or fear. She took a seat besides Bones, then proceeded to light a cigarette.

"Was smoking," she said, referencing how she no longer was polluting her own lungs or the air of the common room. It was weird, how Tamsin could be a bitch to a majority of the population at that cesspool of an academy, but the annoying ones who were persistent in being in her life... She found herself defending them. Even weirder. "I know we like to destroy our bodies, but others don't have that luxury." Tamsin wasn't blatantly saying Lucia was being rude by sitting directly next to Bones and lighting up. But it was implied.

"Don't mind me, mon chéris. Please, carry on with what I'm sure was riveting conversation.” Lucia gestured between the two of them, even winking.

Tamsin looked back over toward Bones, intending on continuing their conversation before the third party arrived. "Well I'm old. My wiring is a little loose," she said motioning to her head. "I don't remember the details of it. I imagine it hasn't changed in the past several centuries. Although being disrobed took significantly more time... Corsets, petticoats, bustles." Tamsin even leaned in with a mischievous smirk, whispering like it was some sort of secret. "Can you imagine showing your ankles to the entire coven?" She made disapproving clicking noises with her mouth as she leaned back against the wall once again.

After a moment, Tamsin held up an index finger to stop them before they spoke. "Although I do remember an orgy." Then her lips pursed and brows furrowed as she tried to recall some other details. "Or was that the Lupercalia... It might have been both. The coven had significantly more orgies in my day. Everything is far less conservative back then," she teased. "You know, besides the ankles." She wiggled her fingers in the direction of her feet.





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roman black
the lecherx|xoutfitx|x#AC945A

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"Isn't she just a delight?" Winnie said with a sigh after Tamsin disappeared.

"I just think she needs to be... loosened up," Roman mused with a playful smirk. "When was the last time anyone... or you," he added with a more seductive tone. "Tickled her fancy."

As Roman sat there on her bed, he watched Winnie as she slipped on her shoes, being sure to look over her shoulder toward him. He liked the view, always had. And when her gaze met his, he playfully flicked the tip of his tongue along his bottom lip. "I would hate to ruin your outfit on your special day, Darling. And if I don't have you to admire during the ceremony, I don't think I could sit through the damned thing" His eyes didn't move from her as she made her way over to where he sat. Winnie leaned down to speak softly into his ear. "Besides, it would give me more time to think about how I'm going to get it all off of you."

Winnie then placed a lingering kiss upon his jaw. And before she could pull away, Roman's right hand found the small of her back, keeping her close. His neck extended just enough so he could catch her earlobe gently between his teeth. After a moment or two, he finally let her pull away and smile toward him. "Don't tease me, sweetheart."

"Of course, I mean there's always doubts, but everybody goes through with it," Win replied to his earlier question. "Why? You're not having second thoughts are you love?" The red head then tilted her head and cocked her head in curiosity.

What if he did? Would he become undesirable? A heretic? He wonder what Winifred's response would be if he had doubts. But even she knew him too well to know that just wasn't him. Roman pushed off the bed so that he was sitting up right. "No," he replied with a laugh. "If I could have signed His book years ago, I would have." He shrugged slightly, then patted his knees. "But, Mother wanted me to have the best education. And if I didn't come here, I wouldn't have met you." He flashed his present company a charming smile. Rome would be lost without Winnie. No one quite understood him like she did. Nor did they comprehend their relationship, but he didn't care. It was theirs.

"I almost forgot, I got you something!" Roman's brows rose out of curiosity as he watched her hasten over to the trunk at the end of her bed. She riffled through its contents until she retrieved a small, perfectly wrapped golden box. The corner of his mouth curved upward in a feint, genuine smile. He let out a soft laugh through his nose as she placed the gift in his hands. "It's not much, just a small 'graduation' gift."

Roman shook his head, unable to remove the grin as he slowly began to unwrap the package. Inside was a stunning watch that perfectly encompassed his style to the T. Somehow his smile grew. Win knew him so well. Rome's left arm reached out and wrapped around her waist, pulling her toward him so that she stood between his legs. "You spoil me." He carefully took the watch out of the box, then held out his wrist for her to aid him in putting it on.

Once she'd finished, Roman let his hands rest on her hips as he looked back up at her. "Thank you, Winifred." He slowly stood up, his chest pushing lightly against hers until he was looking down at her. His right thumb and index finger took her chin in their grasp. He tilted her head up and placed a gentle, loving kiss upon her lips. Then he lowered his head down so his lips were beside her ear. "Don't you dare think about going home with anyone but me tonight," he whispered softly, letting his breath tickle her ear.

He placed one more kiss upon her cheek, while lightly squeezing her side. "Should we head toward the Desecrated Church?" Roman let his hand slowly slip from Win's waist as he made his way over toward the door. He slowly opened it, then stood aside. He might be considered a womanizer or slut to the rest of the Academy, but one thing that cannot be disputed is that he was chivalrous.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Tamsin Reid Character Portrait: Bones Burroughs Character Portrait: Lucia DuBois Character Portrait: Taylor Montgomery

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TAYLOR MONTGOMERY
| The Unorthodox | Outfit | #4abab4
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Having said that the previous night for one, in particular, being like any other student on the campus, would have been a straight-up lie. While the others were preparing for their Dark Baptism to write their names in the Book of the Beast signing their souls away to Lucifer himself, or being like others and studying into the long hours of the night, or even some who were celebrating and drinking into the late hours is what happened to one of the more rebellious students. Like many nights prior, Taylor had skipped overstudying or preparing for the Dark Baptism and its ceremony, she and a few of her friends had celebrated their last night of true freedom until they would sign their soul away to Satan. A group of ten students had slipped away in the night and camped out in one of the darker, more solitude filled places on the island. Drunken laughter and conversations mixed with overly hormonal young adults were a deadly cocktail of mistakes and regrets, one-time hookups and lust. If it was a normal school filled with normal people, they would be referred to as the outcasts and trouble makers on the school campus, and who's to say they weren't. They were the misfits, rulebreakers, outcasted by their families for being different in more ways than one. Whether outcasted by their own blood or people they considered family, this small group was a clusterfuck of alcohol and raging hormones. Whether couples retreated back to their dorm-rooms or even got into it among the group one thing was in common, they were incredibly drunk, lust-filled warlocks and witches.

By the time the light of the morning sun began to cast its soft pink glow over the tops of the buildings of the school, many of the students and faculty were already awake and buzzing with life as they began to prepare for the ceremony that night, as it was Hallowseve, or as modern-day people called it Halloween. Many were superstitious and believed it was a sacred and unholy day, while others, like Taylor believed it was simply a day for an excuse to become immensely drunk and be forgiven for some rather unholy acts. The young witch that was known as Taylor Montgomery found herself back in her dorm, under the covers of her bed as her head pounded like a drum, slowly aching more and more as time had passed by, as well as the alarm next to her bed had finally gone off, blaring its malicious tone. Slowly groaning as her arm emerged from under her covers she felt around aimlessly for that vile alarm, fishing blindly until she found it and tapped for it to be silenced. Letting out a content sigh as silence filled the room once more, except for the soft sound of breathing. Breathing that, came from beside the young witch under the blankets. Soon drunkenly hazey memories flooded her mind as she remembered taking back one of the members in the group with her back to the dorms, as she usually tended to do after a night of drunken escapades. It was a reputation she wasn't proud of, but neither was she ashamed. She wasn't the only one that happened to bring someone new into her bed more often than not, not that anyone could really judge. All that she was thankful about was that her roommate was already gone and had stayed gone all throughout the night, more or less have done the same thing. She found herself slowly stretching and groaning as she wiped the sleep from her eyes, knowing full well she'd need to begin to get ready as it was the day for the Dark Baptism, meaning that many of the students would be choosing their fates this unholy night. Reality finally hitting her as it meant she to would be one of them. A disgruntled sigh escaped her lips as she shimmied out of the bed and made her way into the bathroom, taking an overly egregiously long shower. There were few things that managed to calm her mind, alcohol, music, sex, and showers. The three prior ones being more effective than the latter, but the calmness the feeling of hot water could bring anyone was something relaxing and almost too relaxing.

Finally turning off the water and stepping out into the comparatively colder room sent goosebumps covering her soft flesh. Dying herself off with one towel she used another to dry and hold her hair as she prepared for the day to follow. Taylor didn't know what to think of it all, it is a bit much for her if she was being honest. Having only been in the world of the supernatural for a few months on the verge of a year by now was terrifying. Unlike most who grew up knowing who, or more precisely what they were, for Taylor, she grew up the majority of her life believing she was human. But that all came crashing down when someone from the Church Of Night finally tracked her down and told her everything, who she was, who here parents really were and that she was to become a member of the Church as well and sell her soul to Lucifer. Taylor was never one for religion, especially due to her mother, which, after the truth came out it was purely her mother wanting to keep the truth away from her, keeping her blind to the truth. That in actuality, what Rebecka was doing was hiding from the Dark Lord and Church of Night, moving from state to state not due to her father, but due to what they really were. And now, with Taylor finally being here, having joined the Academy, and was now having to make the choice of whether she chose the Path of Night, or Path of Light, she didn't know what she was going to do. Have free will and do whatever she wanted, or signing her soul away to the Devil. While it seemed promising to sign one's soul away, what would they truly get from this? A life of slavery to someone you'd have to answer to, the one that caused her own father's excommunication from any of the Churches and Covens. The one that caused her to never have any friends or people to rely on, her thoughts were a whirlwind of decision. Decisions that by tonight she'd have to make up her mind, something that terrified her more than anything.

Taylor finally found herself getting dressed into an outfit that was just as unorthodox as she was. While the others would be dressed in white, she went for something on a darker tone. It was a suit with the color of a dark navy if in direct sunlight, but appeared to be jet black otherwise. She knew the tradition of the Dark Baptism, but she wasn't one for tradition and wasn't even sure if she was going to join the others in signing, her mind still wasn't entirely made up just yet. Once she was ready with slight makeup and brushing her hair, she could still hear the light, sleepy breathing coming from under the blankets of her bed. A sly grin covered her face as she shook her head, making sure she was quiet enough to not disturb the sleeping woman's slumber. Taylor finally looked around the room one more time after setting an alarm for the girl to wake up in two hours as it read-only 7am. A soft meow and then a rumbling of purring came from behind the young witch as she turned, seeing the stark white cat sitting contently behind its master. "Goodmorning, Lumos." she said quietly as she reached down, gently stroking the feline's back and ears, resulting in content mews and chirps. The white feline followed shortly behind her master as Taylor made her way from the dormitory, passing many of the other students that gave her the odd look here and there, soft whispers that she knew all too well what was being said.

The other witches and warlocks knew of her reputation, and she didn't care what anyone thought, if they had an issue, they could say it to her face rather than soft whispers behind her back. It never ceased, and she knew it never would, which it would normally bother most, for Taylor, it was the least bad thing they would be talking about behind her. They could have known the truth about her, who she was, and what her past was like, but she preferred that only a select few did, namely the faculty and only at most three other students that wouldn't speak of it as it wasn't their business. Taylor was used to others talking behind her back, and as long as they kept her out of it she didn't care, keep the petty bullshit and drama away, and she could easily amuse you. Taylor found herself walking into the common room of the dormitories, it was the general hotspot for all the students to come and hang out, smoke, talk gossip, or wait for their friends until they were ready to leave. She saw many familiar faces as she passed, seeing some she got along with, others, others she had no opinion about them as she either didn't know them or knew it was better to keep things to yourself if you had nothing nice to say. Taylor simply sat down in one of the chairs that faced the middle of the room with Lumos sitting by her feet on the carpeted floor below. Seeing members of one of the groups of friends she had become familiar with, she didn't exactly know what they had been talking about, but from what she overheard she could tell they had been talking about the Dark Baptisms, and how they progressed over the years. Taylor hadn't really known much about them, other than what she was told about them since she got there. Always having been one of the odd ones out, she found herself sitting in the chair, reading an old tome book until it was time for them to leave and join the others for the ceremony. "Morning, folks." she said, almost too casually as she made slight eye contact with the others for a moment before looking down back the tome, trying to calm her nerves that she could feel pulsing through her.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Tamsin Reid Character Portrait: Constance Lamotte Character Portrait: Bones Burroughs Character Portrait: Lucia DuBois Character Portrait: Taylor Montgomery

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constance lamotte
the traitor | outfit | #863348

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the gluttion | outfit | #FD0E53

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Constance would never admit it but, it always felt strange walking around the academy without her close (best)friend in tow. The pair have had this air to them, they were a force a nature with one another and everyone knew it. It kept the people she chose to torment at bay while giving those she called friends an easier time of finding the two of them. Without Luci, people just moved out of her way, turning their conversations to a low hush in order to keep the witch from hearing a word they were saying. Don’t get her wrong, she didn’t mind it but, she liked Luci by her side. How the Parisian unnecessary draping herself over her shoulder, with Constance’s hand around her small waist, or with Luci intertwining their fingers. It was their thing and she didn’t like walking around without it, especially on today of all days.

It wasn’t until she smelled cigarettes that she knew where she’d probably find her. Seemed about right. Heavens, come to think of it, Constance could use one right about now to calm her annoyance of Luci and the wild goose chase she felt like she was on for ages. When finally making it to the lounge her eyes went directly to her faithful right-hand woman, Lucia DuBois, not really realizing who the other people around her were. Even if she did, it wouldn’t have made a difference. Bones and her didn’t really talk to one another, so why try and entertain it? And she knew for a fact that Taylor wouldn’t be pleased with her presence. Not that it mattered. But her ears did perk up a bit and a mischievous smile crept on her face when she heard Tamsin’s voice. She scoffed softly. “Now, Tamsin. There are plenty of orgies and whatnot all around the academy now, you just haven’t been asked to join.” She looked towards Luci and pointed to Tamsin. “This why you were occupied? You’re talkin’ to the town elder, letting her fill your head with heretic ideals of our Dark Lord and talks of nihilism. How nice.” She slowly turned to Tamsin to look her up and down with her smirk still plastered on her face. “You look exceptionally jaded and morbid this morning.”

Red flushed to Lucia’s cheeks, her lips pursed in a guilty smirk when her gaze met Constance’s. If it hadn’t been for Constance’s persistence that she get her full night of beauty sleep before her baptism, Lucia most have assuredly woken up curled up beside Constance in her bed. That being said, the last thing Constance would want to be doing on her baptismal day would be wandering the halls looking for Lucia. She put out her cigarette with emphasis, looking at Tamsin pointedly before walking to Constance’s side.

“Ma moitié, I was just about to come looking for you!” Lucia purred, her fingers reaching out to Constance - cautious as if expecting Constance to brush them away. “Mmhm, I bet you were.” Constance added watching her friend scurry her way next to her. When she realized that Luci was reaching for her hand, she raised an eyebrow at the shorter girl and looked her up and down once more. She didn’t plan on giving in, but Luci knew exactly how to guilt and/or annoy Constance into giving in whether it be going out more than she would on her own or even something as simple as holding her hand. She rolled her eyes with a slight groan as she reached Luci’s practically begging hand before intertwining their pinky fingers, no need to allow the others in the room, especially with those others including both Taylor and Tamsin, see her give in so easily to Luci. She has a reputation as a major she-devil to uphold and that meant towards everyone. Besides, she was annoyed, and she wanted Lucia to think she was in trouble with her, perhaps in danger of falling out of her good graces. She wasn’t, really, but Luci didn’t have to know that.

Berry stained lips pushed into a slight pout, recognizing the look from Constance. Constance wasn’t the type to forgive easily, it was one of Lucia’s favorite things about her. Lucia knew better than to interpret her reluctant affection as a sign of redemption. If there was ever a day no one should piss Constance off, it would be today. Keeping their pinkies linked, Lucia pulled herself closer. Lucia was like a pet, ignoring all social etiquette and wiggling itself into its master's lap in the middle of a conversation. Some called it poor boundaries, other codependency. It didn’t matter the circumstances, Lucia wanted to be bound to Constance. Between them, a thread, always tying them back together.

Dark eyes dragged across the lounge before returning to platinum-haired beauty. Lucia hated having to share Constance’s attention with others, craving it all so desperately for herself. It was like night and day, seeing the Parisian with and without her other half. Constance was a drug of her own making, giving Lucia a high no drug was capable of. Even with the threat of her wrath, all Lucia wanted was to have Constance all to herself. Constance let out a long sigh as she felt Lucia pulling herself closer, should be expected. Luci didn't really take cues especially from her. “Do you want to finish preparing for the Baptism together, Connie?” Lucia coyly asked, gently swinging their linked hands between them. Maybe if she groveled enough Lucia could get back on Constance’s good side before the baptism.

Ugh. That damn nickname, she got it enough from Luci, she did not need everyone else to feel the need to say it especially Tamsin and Taylor. The pair pissed her off enough in other ways that didn't include that stupid nickname! "That sounds like a great idea." She turned her eyes from Tamsin to Luci with a small smile. "We still have to get our sacrifices prepared and finalize our baptismal names." She turned to the Unorthodox witch across from her and her friend with a raised eyebrow and looked over her appearance. Black on Black on Black just like her two little chumps with. The only difference being that Taylor was 25, she was supposed to sign her name tonight as well. And, what? Constance wasn't going to poke that bear and bring it up just to annoy her? C'mon. "As I'm assumin' you'll be doin' as well, Taylor. You are of age after all just like the rest of us, but you're not in the right attire. Pity." She made a tsk noise. "Guess we'll see at the church. As for you two," She turned her eyes to Bones and then Tamsin. "We will see you at the baptism." She turned towards the hall with Luci in tow. When they were finally out of view of the others. Constance intertwined her fingers with Luci's as they walked through the hall. "So, how was your night?" Constance turned her look to Ivy. "Obviously not amazing because you weren't with me," Constance raised her eyebrows with a click on her tongue. "But hey, some random, probably inadequate witch or warlock got the job, right? I mean, I would hope so seeing that was the last time before you signed your name to the Dark Lord, only a day we've been waiting for together for what feels like a lifetime. What better way to start that day other than wakin' up with some random followed by a riveting conversation with the firestarter, the boy, and Taylor." Okay, she felt better after chewing out her best friend. She took a deep sigh before cracking an actual smile towards her girl. "You're lucky, you're cute. 'Sides, I need someone to tell me how great I look."

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Tamsin Reid Character Portrait: Constance Lamotte Character Portrait: Bones Burroughs Character Portrait: Josie Jaiyen Character Portrait: Lucia DuBois Character Portrait: Taylor Montgomery

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Tamsin made a point of blowing the smoke in the opposite direction of Bones, a perfect example of why Bones put so much faith in her. Even if most everyone else thought she was a cursed bitch. “No. But they make sex eyes at each other when they aren't naked. I can only handle so much of Roman propositioning me into a threesome." Tamsin’s ever attached python climbed it’s way around her ankles while Bones tried not to gag and the idea of joining Win and Roman. Despite Win’s best attempts to be every man’s ideal, the idea of anything physical with her turned Bones off. Tamsin added on, "Although you're welcome to join them. The rabbits are always looking for new victims."

Bones laughed as he stretched out his feet. “Keeping their sex life interesting is your job isn’t it?” He tucked his hands behind his head as he thought about it for a minute. It wasn’t that he was particularly inexperienced, but he’d never partaken in a threesome, which around these parts, did seem to scream inexperience. So he was hardly going to announce that. “Far too many moving parts for me.”

Tamsin then went through the usual and expected cussing out of The Dark Lord, before Lucia appeared as if summoned my anyone talking shit about her master. She jumped onto the couch, pressing herself right up against Bones, despite the fact that rest of the couch was vacant. Bones wriggled to gain himself a bit more space from her, reminding himself, as he often had to in her presence, that she didn’t mean anything by her affectionate nature.

“Oh, is this where we’re smoking?” She asked as she lit up right next to him. And as he inhaled a large whiff of smoke filled nicotine, he took every ounce of his will power to resist the hacking cough building up in his lungs. He wasn’t that sickly kid anymore, he could handle a little smoke without turning into a party pooper.

Was smoking, I know we like to destroy our bodies, but others don't have that luxury." Tamsin butt in quickly. Which just proved to Bones that she was the right person to hitch his wagon too, even if had to store away scraps of her kindness before she returned to snappish and blunt.

However it also rankled his fragile sense of pride. He didn’t need her looking out for him, he was practically, almost, a healthy twenty three year old. “It’s fine.” He grumbled to Lucia with a frown before glaring over at Tamsin. “She’s not my nursemaid or whatever you fucking had back in your day.” Of course, his words were punctuated by a slight cough he managed to mostly smother.

He was saved as Taylor joined the room, an awkward distance away too, as if not sure if she actually wanted to join them or not. “Morning, Folks” She said giving them a bare glance, which he responded to with a nod and half wave. They weren’t really friends, so not really his problem to give her a proper greeting.

Tamson picked up where they left off and the conversation moved on to petticoats, whatever they were, and scandalous ankles. Bones for his part laughed at all the appropriate moments, Tamsin did know how to entertain. Then the conversation turned to orgies, why did all the conversations in this place always curve their way back to orgies?

“Now, Tamsin. There are plenty of orgies and whatnot all around the academy now, you just haven’t been asked to join.” Constance Lamotte swept into the room filling up every corner of it with her usual brand of prideful sting.

“As oppose to you, who has been explicitly asked not to join.” Bones said immediately without looking her way, his eyes on his boots that he was kicking together. To him, Tamsin was the shit, so he’d jump down anyone’s throat who tried to talk trash about her.

He resisted a sigh as Lucia jumped up from next to him and turned into the clingy version of herself who acted like a fucking cat, purring for attention from her master. He didn’t listen in on their interactions either, in fact he tried very hard to avoid looking at them, as he caught Taylor’s eye and pretended to vomit. The truth was Lucia was one of Bones’ good friends, she was an honest to the Dark Lord good time. But the state she defaulted to around Constance was tragic.

Bones shot them an obvious fake smile as they made their exit. He rolled his eyes at Tamsin, “Too late to lodge a petition against her joining our coven? I’m sure I could get a million signatures with a little effort.” With a laugh he got to his feet and stretched out his arms. “I’ll catch you at the Baptism, I’m going to find Josie.” With a grin he left her to finish off whatever girly shit she had left to do.

He found Josie absently bent over a book in the dining room. So much so that he was able to approach her without her notice, slumping into the seat perpendicular from her. “How’s Josie, where's the pussycats?" He grinned at himself as he stretched out his legs under the table, crossing them at the ankle. "Almost time for that pesky baptism thing.”

He grabbed a fruit pasty off her plate and begun to destroy it, ripping off bits of pastry to eat at random. He looked over at her and took in her white outfit, she looked nice, far too well-groomed to be offering herself to their Dark Lord. “You’re not nervous are you?” He asked as he turned back to his pastry, the simple question was as much care as his pride allowed him to, she wasn’t going to get a concerned gesture too. “Little hint, make sure you’ve got your baptismal name sorted beforehand.” His lack of pre-planning resulted in a moment of panic, and was why he was now stuck forever with, Hawk, as his baptismal name. Try not to judge him to harshly, he was sixteen at the time.

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isaac courtney
the undying | outfit | #934016

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Isaac took back his flask of whiskey and tucked it in under his duffel bag. Turning back to his roommate he looked over his all white attire, clearly a baptismer. Why the Dark Lord preferred the virginal look was a mystery to Isaac, just from personal experience he could say that virgins are not better, in any way. Though the less Isaac knew about the Dark Lord’s thinking the better.

His new roommate introduced himself, something Isaac hadn’t thought to do. "I'm Valerian. Rian.” He nodded absently at Rian as he started buttoning up his fresh shirt. A long expectant pause fell over the two of them as Isaac turned away to inspect his wardrobe.

It was only when he turned back to Rian that he realised he was supposed to give his own name back. He never really had the same attachment to names that everyone else claimed to, so introducing himself never came naturally to him. “Ah, Isaac,” He was going to continue and give his last name but he stumbled on the last name. Having already made a sound, Isaac tried to recover by turning it into an awkward cough.

Having made the necessary introductions, Isaac begun throwing the few pairs of clothes he’d brought into the drawers, only half filling one. He was glad that at least his new roommate didn’t seem particularly chatty, maybe his luck was turning around.
This Rian seemed like an alright fellow, and based on the name Isaac thought that he might also be Austrian. Not that he’d ever ask, this incarnation of himself was not Austrian, so that was not something they properly had in common. "You're... late. Travelling?" He asked.

Isaac had just finished unpacking, a task that took him all of thirty seconds, and had turned back to face his new roomie. “Yeah, I suppose,” He said, in his usual manner where he didn’t really say anything. He hadn’t really thought through what explanation he’d give for arriving late as that seemed like too much effort. He was already angst to get out of this room and forced socialisation, maybe grab a drink.

“They still got that Spanish bar where they sacrificed that witch?” Isaac asked, his sense of time passing being so poor, that he accidentally asked about a bar off campus that had been demoed over half a century ago. Even with witchy ageing magic, he shouldn’t really remember it. Ready to go explore new changes to the Academy, Isaac nodded at his new roomie. “Enjoy offering yourself to the Dark Lord.”

Isaac’s first destination was the Sanctum, which was pretty standard. Whenever he visited the Academy he always went to the Sanctum first, he liked to think Tamsin held a shred of tenderness for him and would get upset if he went anywhere else first. However today, he found the Sanctum disappointingly empty. Well, there were a few young witches milling about, but not the old bag-o-bones witchy bitch he was looking for.

No, he found Tamsin in a common room discussing orgies. A new paint job in this section of the Academy clearly hadn’t changed anything. His new look allowed him to enter the room without drawing any notice from Tamsin, or anyone else for that matter. He leaned against the far wall watching Tamsin and her new friends.

He knew the hostile girl, Constance Lamotte, and watched her with curiosity. He knew her story better than he’d let on, at least at this point. Her father had murdered a dear friend of his, just to play coven leader, how dumb. He knew he’d run into her here, but he’d expected someone more fearsome than this Connie. However he had to agree, Tamsin did look particularly jaded and morbid, though it was a good look on her so Isaac wasn’t going to complain. After her and the tattooed boy left, Isaac from his place lounging against the wall spoke up. “What’s Connie’s deal?”




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bohdi krishnan
the savage | outfit | #2d0704

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Bodhi was invested in reading from the fat tomb in front of her, or at least invested in pretending to read the tomb in front of her as her left leg jiggled away. This was why she didn’t register Desdemona of their rest of their clique until she was right up in Bodhi’s space, leaning over the table without a care in the world.

Bodhi sat politely while Desdemona looked over her outfit. They may have been roomies and best friends, but they were most certainly not the type to try on clothes and give fashion advice. Hence why she hadn’t seen Bodhi’s chosen outfit until this moment. “I like it. Very 60's-housewife-married-to-a-millionaire-and-fucking-the-pool-boy.”

Bodhi smiled politely and rose up on to her feet, gently running a hand over her dresses folds so it sat perfectly. She raised a sharp eyebrow towards Desdemona but otherwise her features remained cool and unchanged. “Sincerest apologies. I really ought to have sought permission before stealing your deceased mother’s look.” She slid the tomb in front of her closed and scooped up her handbag before heading off to put the heavy book back in its proper place. Constantin jumping up just in time to settle himself on the strap of her bag. “However, I do think you’ll find I wear it better.” She then turned to Neona and Emrys, she didn’t smile but did incline her head slightly, which was the greatest sign of familiarity Bohdi would allow herself, even if she did genuinely enjoy Emrys’ company, and found Neona’s tolerable. “Neona, Emrys.”

The group now complete they headed out into the corridor only to run past uncultured love fest of Constance and Lucia. Bodhi had far too much etiquette training to actually scowl in their direction, her one blow up at Lucia was already more than she should have allowed to happen. However she did step up towards Desdemona who always walked ahead, stealing the lead. “My father writes that the standards here are falling behind expectations. I agree with him of course. These days it seems that they’ll admit anyone.” Bohhi spoke to Desdemona but her eyes never strayed from Lucia, she thought the girl the biggest waste of air that ever did leave. And the notion that the Dark Lord has singled her out is absolutely preposterous, she’s nothing more than a lush. Controlling one’s baser instincts was rule number one. “Even gluttonous drunks it appears.”

After speaking Bodhi’s eyes did travel towards Constance, as far as Bodhi was concerned, the girl was guilty by association. However Constance family name saved her from complete rebuke, Bodhi was far too concerned with elite bloodlines and etiquette to blow right by her without stopping. “Constance.”

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Character Portrait: Constance Lamotte Character Portrait: Bodhi Krishnan Character Portrait: Neona Ki Character Portrait: Desdemona Proctor Character Portrait: Emrys Proctor Character Portrait: Lucia DuBois

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Desdemona had grown used to the barbs Bodhi sent her way. To be completely honest, any stranger would probably assume they were sworn enemies, rather than close friends; their relationship was funny, that way. Perhaps it was a consequence of their respectfully dysfunctional upbringings, but that was simply how they displayed affection to each other. Hence, the only reaction Bodhi's harsh comment received from Des was a wry smile, followed by an equally vicious rebuttal.

"No apology necessary. You had to take inspiration from someone, after all. And I'd hardly recommend your own mother."

Bodhi's step ahead was, strangely, far more offensive to her, and Des' brow rose in slight indignation before deciding to ignore it. Perhaps she was feeling jovial today, or perhaps Bodhi simply looked especially pretty all in white, but she chose to tether her irritation. Instead, she smirked, letting Bodhi have her fun. Especially when that fun was directed towards Lucia, irritating glutton that she was. Normally, a witch such as Lucia would be nothing more than an irrelevant, if slightly irritating mar to Des' periphery. The girl was not the sort to attract Des' attention, neither positively nor negatively, and such a nonexistent relationship is one she's sure they would have both been satisfied with.

Lucia's relationship with Emrys, however, had soiled any such possibility. Emrys was hardly prey to the black widow, he wasn't nearly so malleable, but the French witch brought out something in her brother that made him reckless for all the wrong reasons. It frustrated Des, and sometimes it frightened her.

“My father writes that the standards here are falling behind expectations. I agree with him of course. These days it seems that they’ll admit anyone. Even gluttonous drunks it appears.”

Eyeing the pair now, she replied to Bo with venom in her voice, "Standards have most certainly slipped. I'll be sure to amend that when I inherit my father's position."

Neo, who up until that point had remained quiet, tutted playfully at the girls, "Then again, aren't we encouraged to revel in sin? Perhaps Lucia's just ahead of the curve." She said it lightly enough, with no argumentative edge to her voice. It was nought but a gentle musing posed to ease the tension. A tension that always seemed to rise when witches with egos as big as those of her current companions' were in the same space together for more than a brief moment.

Des scoffed, resting an ebony-nailed hand on Neo's shoulder, "You're too soft, Neo. Revelling in sin is one thing. Fixating on it to the point of primality is quite another."

"Perhaps I am, or perhaps I don't want my roommate to hex me while I'm asleep because you and Bodhi insisted on throwing shade."

She retained her light tone, but her casual attempt to diffuse the situation went about as successfully as she expected. Des removed her hand from the girl's shoulder, offering her a faux-apologetic smile and a what-can-I-say? shrug, and Neo to raised a brow in a mixture of exasperation and resignation. Oh well, at least I tried.

Emrys, meanwhile, wasn't listening to the conversation whatsoever. Their words, familiar in their disdainful nature, passed over him as though he were caught in a separate, silent world. A bubble of his own thoughts. And in that bubble with him was Lucia. He glanced at her, remembering their exchange from the night before. They hadn't spoken since then, not that they had had any opportunity to, but still, the air between them was thick with words left unspoken, and actions unexplained. 'Get out,' he had said, deftly twisting what was initially a mutually reckless and untethered relationship into something far less comfortable. Just like that, someone had come, uninvited, to catch him at one of his weakest moments.

He looked away.

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