Post #2592580 in The Witching Hr, a roleplay on RPG

Cigarettes was a habit most people in the Academy shared, Greyson included. Taking refuge under a shady tree in the garden, Greyson was able to avoid the madness inside of the house. Propped up against the tree with a large text book opened beside her and her notebook in her lap, she seemed like the exemplary student. Each page had her own notes on each herb or flower the book described, along with drawings and notes of what could be paired with it to enhance its properties or redirect them. Her short dark bob was disheveled, as if she hadn't done anything to it since rolling out of bed, which was true.

It wasn't uncommon for Greyson to slip out of the house first thing in the morning, on top of generally not being a very social person, she especially wasn't social in the morning when so many others were so chipper. On top of that there were new arrivals today, and that was like catnip to the residents. Greyson had seen hundreds come and go in the thirteen years she had been there, she hardly bothered with names anymore. There was one shaggy haired blonde that was escorted in, and Hale made his rounds, missing her and yelling up to Aden to greet the new boy, she counted her blessings for remaining unseen.

For a moment the girl just closed her book and watched the house unfold around her as she smoked her cigarette down to the nub. Soon she was the only one outside, until she saw Pell leave. The girl bounced with a sense of determination, and if Pell was being Pell it was most likely with the determination to snub authoritative figures. Fair skinned and dressed in all white, she could've passed as a dream with her lavender hair chasing after her. Lighting another cigarette, she watched Pell carefully as she left, swishing her hips. Shaking her head, Greyson looked back at the front doors as Rowe spilled out, seeming confused as usual until he finally went in his own direction once outside of the gate. It was funny how she barely spoke to her peers, but by spending her time as the fly on the wall she felt like she knew them better than anyone else.

Gathering her things, Greyson flicked the cigarette into the trash, partly aiming and mostly using telekenisis to move the butt into the bin, walking smoothly toward the house. The beating sun gleamed against her tawny shoulders, exposed to the elements, slim hips sashaying. She moved through the common area as if she owned the room, barely registering Jaq and who she assumed was the other newcomer, beelining up the stairs to her room.

Aden and Kyle were in the hall with the blonde she saw entering the house earlier, briefly making eye contact, her face set in resting bitch face. With a small huff she opened her door, which was recognizable by the many stickers covering the door and taped up drawings she had made herself, along with eerie cut outs from magazines of hodgepodge bodies. She'd had her own room since she returned after her gap year, another perk of being a lifer of the Academy. The interior of the room was customized to her comfort with dark velvet drapes and large pillows thrown into a pile on the floor. She closed the windows and the drapes, turning her stereo up loud as Lisa Hall's voice crooned over the speakers, lighting her candles.

Ceremony would be soon, it was time for Greyson to cleanse herself. She lit a bundle of sage, pinching from the bundle and setting the sage in the corners of her room, facing each direction. Sitting in the center of the room, Greyson drew a chalk circle around herself and took a seat, closing her eyes and taking deep breaths. She sat like this for maybe an hour before she was done, standing tall.

She collected her clothes and towel, going into the shower room. The sound of people could be heard in all directions of the house, she felt comforted knowing none of them were bothering her. Her life was simple - study, practice, observe. Her emotions ruled her, when she felt apathetic she did nothing but spend her time hovering over books or her potions, but when her emotions would peak in a sense of false euphoria she's lively and sensual, and often hit by the random mischievous mood she can become ornery and rebellious. Right now all she knew was that she couldn't face the monotony of small talk.

The water was steaming, hitting her skin with veracity, beating it pink. Rubbing a shampoo she made with jasmine and ginger she sang an old Simon and Garfunkel song her mother used to sing. Marx used to say there were glimpses of the old Lillith in the new one, that's what made him stick around so long. Sometimes when she was a little girl, Marx and Greyson would sit outside the bathroom door and hear Lillith sing:

Old friends,
Sat on their park bench
Like bookends.
A newspaper blown through the grass
Falls on the 'round toes
On the high shoes
Of the old friends.

Old friends.
Winter companions,
The old men
Lost in their overcoats,
Waiting for the sunset.
The sounds of the city,
Sifting through trees,
Settle like dust
On the shoulders
Of the old friends

Can you imagine us
Years from today,
Sharing a park bench quietly?
How terribly strange
To be seventy.
Old friends,
Memory brushes the same years,
Silently sharing the same fear.

The same song spilled from Greyson's lips like a lullaby from someone's youth. After the first run she hummed the tune to herself again she she exfoliated with the clay, charcoal and licorice soap she also made at her own workshop. Despite the certainty that other people would be waiting for the shower, Greyson took her time, emerging from the shower soft and smooth, rejuvenated. She changed into her all black garb and throwing on a jacket as she passed her room to throw her dirty clothes in the hamper and grabbing her cigarettes. She took a seat on the front steps and lit her ciggy, resting her chin in her hand as she leaned foward, watching the sun lower in the sky.

After her second cigarette, two heads of technicolor hair walked toward her, she recognized one as Pell. As they came closer she vaguely recognized the other girl from seeing her around town. She looked young, hopeful. Raising her eyebrows at Pell as she passed, Greyson gave a smirk - looking the girls up and down. "How cute, you've brought home a pet."

Snippet #2592580

located in New Orleans, Louisiana, a part of The Witching Hr, one of the many universes on RPG.

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