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Isra Tennyson

"Hope, in reality, is the worst of all evils."

0 · 564 views · located in Aeonis Academy

a character in “Aeonis Academy for Demigods”, originally authored by JacksColdSweat, as played by RolePlayGateway

Description

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I DON'T KNOW BUT I LIKE TO THINK I HAD CONTROL AT SOME POINT, BUT I LET IT GO AND LOST MY _______SOUL.







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FULL NAME::
Isra Beatrice Tennyson

NICKNAME(S):
Izzy {Every so often || Neutral}

DATE OF BIRTH:
January 12

AGE:
17

GODLY PARENT:
Hades

YEAR:
11th

GENDER:
Female

SEXUALITY:
Bisexual || Biromantic

ETHNICITY:
American of Monégasque descent

DIALOGUE OR THOUGHT COLOR:
#555555
#777777



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PERSONALITY:
People often seem to forget that her father is not the god of death, merely the watcher of dead souls. The honor of the mantle of death belongs to Thanatos (her half-brother, she supposes, in a twisted way.) She does not spend her time in graveyards, does not have an unhealthy obsession with death, does not caress skulls, whispering sweetly in their unhearing sockets "Alas, dear Yorick, I knew him well Horatio", or at the very least, never misquotes her Shakespeare. She toils with the dead as infrequently as possible. But she has taken her father's serious demeanor, his sense of responsibility. She's typically a quiet person, only speaking when she has something to say. She doesn't approach other people, and her standoffish demeanor often deters others from approaching her. Isra is a fairly harsh sort of individual. She doesn't quite believe in forgiveness, certainly not second chances. To her, people never change. She's seen too many people pretend to do just that: change. And every time, when they inevitably reveal themselves to be just as wicked as they always were, she can only shake her head and scoff. She's not a fan of pretending. As a result, she is brutally honest, unempathetic. She's grown cynical and jaded in her views of the world. Especially after what happened with her mother, she finds it difficult to trust people, especially people who make a bad first impression.
The only extraordinary gift she can thank her mother for is strange, perhaps a curse rather than a blessing, though it's not as if she can call anything her father gave her a pleasant gift either. Hyper perception, hyper awareness, hyper observance, it's gotten rather a few different names. Not that it matters, it's all the same. She is not Sherlock, and she wishes people would stop asking her to make impossible assumptions, she only sees, prefers not to interpret. Still, she somehow finds herself amassing secrets, storing them carefully in the glass jar of her mind. Her only joy is that no visual photographic memory accompanies her visual gifts. She can't imagine what hell that would be.
Through it all, she maintains an astounding sense of balance. Her father's trait, she supposes, a calm head, the ability to reign in her wits in a trying situation. She does not become angry so much as annoyed, does not become annoyed so much as peeved. Arrogance is the only thing she seems to be unable to abide by. Her family, humbled, always, ensures that Isra has never gone beyond confident. "Confidence," her mother would tell her, "is a good thing. Arrogance is the worst."



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LIKES:
✔ Classical Lit. || She's still not really sure how she got into it, but one day she picked up a copy of The Count of Monte Cristo and never let go of the old writers. ✔ Really Bad Jokes || Call it a guilty pleasure. Certainly one no one would expect, considering her usual sense of humor is much dryer, but a bad pun or really poor joke never quite fails to send her into a fit of laughter. ✔ Nighttime || The nocturnal hours are her favorite, and there's something about the chilled mantle of darkness that's comforting. She's a night owl to say the least. ✔ Art || Of all kinds, any kinds. She admires perfection, especially given her ability to perceive the slightest mistakes. Whether it be a brilliantly executed heist or a beautiful painting, art is impressive to her. ✔ Intentional Imperfection || While she admires perfection, she admires intentional imperfection even more. There's something striking about the idea that one could see all the little mistakes and still proceed with the idea that those mistakes is what makes it even more beautiful. It eases her mind and her eyes, since it doesn't force her to pick out all the mistakes. She's still learning how to appreciate unintentional imperfection. ✔ Classical Music || Violin concertos are her favorite, but she loves all classical music, especially since it makes for excellent background music to either study or read with. ✔

DISLIKES:
✖ Her Hyper Perception || People tend to think it's cool, but it's not, it's painful. They don't know how long it's taken her to train her mind into only looking for what she wants to see, how it sometimes fails regardless, how she sometimes makes connections she doesn't want to make. If she could, she'd get rid of it in a heartbeat. ✖ Chemistry || It's never caught her interest. Strangely enough, it's really the only science field she absolutely can't stand. ✖ Coffee || It gives her the jitters and makes her hands tremble. ✖ Messes || She likes a clean room, order. She's not obsessive about it, but she'll certainly pick up stray objects on the floor. Keeping things neat relaxes her. ✖ Bad Books || Once she picks up a novel, she doesn't stop until she reaches the end, and sometimes she's wasted four hours of her life by then. It's not pleasant. ✖

FEARS:
☠ Not Making It to Elysium || Her mother is there, and she can't imagine not being with her in death. Besides, the Field of Asphodel are a terrifying prospect. ☠
☠ Figuring Out Something She Shouldn't Know || She's seen what happens to people who find out things other people, dangerous people, don't want them to know. She's seen the rapid police protection, how even after they're safe they have to uproot their lives and identity, how sometimes they don't get kept safe at all. ☠
☠ Losing Someone She Cares About || Perhaps one of the reasons she's so reluctant to strike up friendships, but after the whole ordeal with her mother, she doesn't think she can attend one more funeral of another person she loves and cares for.☠




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FAMILY::
Ava Tennyson || 43 || Mother (Deceased)

RELATIONSHIP WITH GODLY PARENT:
Four times she has seen him. She likes him well enough, she supposes, though she can't see him as a father, more as a friend, a mentor.
He is there when she tries to reach out to the man crossing the street, pulling her back as she fights him wildly in a feeble attempt to reach the weary man before his foot can touch the gravel. "Death," voices seem to nag at her, shadows whispering eerie murmurs in her ear. "Death is coming." "But I can stop it," she whispers back, "I can stop it." "Death," comes the whisper at the nape of her neck, "is inevitable. You cannot stop it." This is the first time she meets him. She turns to him, knowledge murking in the back of her mind. "Much," he continues, his eyes alight with a glint of humor, "like taxes." And somehow, her lips manage to quirk into a smile, a huff of air escaping that sounds suspiciously like a laugh. She was eleven.
He is there at her mother's funeral. She does not see him, through the haze of her tears, but he is the hand at her back as she is handed a folded American flag, the reassuring murmur at her ear when everyone stands to salute. She is glad that her father is the one with the largest sense of responsibility, because even if he doesn't love her, she doesn't think she'd be able to get through the funeral without him. She was thirteen.
He is there six months later when she lingers at her mother's grave well past a respectable hour, there when she pulls a candle from her bag with trembling fingers (for meditation purposes, nothing more). He is behind Ava's tomb, a solemn look hooding his impossibly dark eyes. She opens her mouth to say something , anything, but nothing escapes. His thin lips pull up. A smile. The second she has seen from him, though this one distinctly different from the first. In only four long strides, he is at her side, calloused fingers gently pulling the candle from her vise grip. "You don't need that nonsense," he says, as though he's been training her a lifetime for this. She cannot help but be annoyed, a twitch in her jaw. But somehow, mysteriously, she finds herself placing her comparatively small hands in his large ones, her eyelids fluttering shut. Later (seconds or a lifetime, she cannot tell), there is a rustle of wind through the trees. And then her mother's voice is in her ear, whispering "Isra." She nearly collapses into sobs right then and there, but when she chokes back tears to turn to thank him, he is already gone. She was fourteen.
He is there when she touches the man's shoulder. He is still a dirty sonuvabitch gangbanger, not that she expected any different. There was a technicality in the case, and he never saw a day behind bars. He left the courtroom weeping, promising to change his ways, but Isra can see right through his filthy lies. In a way she is glad for the technicality; without it, she would never have been able to do what she is about to. She brushes past him in the street, calmly continuing her stride as he falls to ground behind her. For once, a smile reaches her eyes. Her mother would not be proud, but she thinks revenge is sweet enough that she can live with it. Suddenly, he is in front of her, a scowl etched into the hard lines of his face. He is disappointed, she can tell, but he doesn't deserve that right. He is her father in nothing but name. She scowls back. "The Underworld," he hisses, "is full enough without you putting anymore souls into it. The Fates are upset. It wasn't his time." "I made it his time," she replies, attempting to brush past him. "You stepped outside your bounds," he says, gripping her arm. Tears well in her eyes. "He deserved it," her voice is shaking, and it's all she can do to contain it. "I never said he didn't," his voice gentles suddenly, and it's too much. She stains his shoulder with her tears, only barely managing to croak out, "Promise me he'll be in the Fields of Punishment." "I promise," he mutters, though his arms stay awkwardly at his sides, "I promise I will pick something particularly nasty for him." It is only words, she knows. Hades is, above all, responsible. The man will be given what it is deemed he deserved, nothing more nothing less, but the words comfort her anyways. She pulls back, and before he disappears, she hears him say, "She's in Elysium." She can hear the truth in his words, and she almost cries all over again. She was fifteen.
A week later, she receives a note with an address and a simple message of "Go here." And so she goes. She trusts him more than she'd have thought possible.


BIOGRAPHY:
She is never told how her parents met, though she assumes it was something mundane. That's just how her mama is: a little boring. But she loves her anyways. She is never told where her daddy is, but it's okay, she thinks, she's sure he was great if mama loved him.
They don't always have enough money to buy the cool toys she wants, but she doesn't really mind, because Mama is always there for her. Sometimes the apartment gets really hot in the summer and it makes her a little dizzy, but then Mama takes her to the park for some ice cream and it's all better.
In second grade she realizes what Mama really does for a living. She doesn't get proud (she's always been proud of her mama, the proudest), instead she just gets scared. When she goes out to school every morning, her goodbye is now accompanied with a "Promise you'll be careful, Mama." And there's a deep chuckle from her mama and a soft "I'll be fine, baby, it's the city that needs protecting." And she giggles and says, "You're like a superhero, Mama."
In third grade she starts seeing things. "That lady's eye is twitchin'," she says about a couple she sees arguing on the street. "That's 'cuz she's lying, sweetie," her mama answers calmly. She starts seeing more things, starts wishing she could stop. Her mama is helping her learn how to pick and choose, and the headaches start easing up.
In fifth grade she starts listening to the police radio, and her heart stops a little every time she hears the words "Officer down!" But then Mama comes home with a grin on her face and she laughs. And sometimes she cries a little too.
In sixth grade, she meets her daddy. He is tall, strange. He's kinda funny too, and she likes him a little. He asks her not to tell Mama she met him, and she doesn't want to never see him again, so she agrees. She comes home and Mama knows something is up even though she's been trying to control her tells, but Mama doesn't say anything about it, and she's glad.
In eighth grade she learns what death really means. She isn't listening to the police radio that day, she had a lot of studying to get done. But at nine there's a knock on the door, and she's wondering if Mama forgot her keys again, but instead when she looks through the peephole there are two officers there. She opens the door slowly, and they look down at her, their hats in their hands and their gazes sad. She starts crying even before they open their mouths.
In ninth grade she becomes death. It's not easy, killing the man who killed her mama, but she has to do it. She's sure she'd go mad otherwise, even if her father isn't the happiest with her because of it. Then a week later he's telling her to go someplace, and she's figuring 'what the hell?' since she lives with her aunt now, and her aunt never really notices where she's at, so she packs up her things and she goes.
From tenth grade on she's learning. She's learning who she is and what she can do. She talks to her mama every Wednesday, and she's thinking things could be worse.


FAVORITE POWER:
By far the ability to speak to the dead. The fact that she can still speak to her mother occasionally is the only thing that keeps her sane. And sometimes, she'll walk around a graveyard on a dreary day and stop by random tombstones that look interesting. She'll call up the person and listen to their stories, and they never fail to be fascinating. It's a mutually beneficial relationship, she hears tales of others' lives, and they get a break from wandering aimlessly.

MISCELLANEOUS:
Her family is from Monaco, and they never failed to pass French down to their children, so she does speak French fluently.


So begins...

Isra Tennyson's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Jensen Adler Character Portrait: Altair D'Cruz Character Portrait: Isra Tennyson Character Portrait: Amanda Cartwright Character Portrait: Daniel Keisuke
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Dan was dreaming of a girl, a certain very pretty daughter of Hades, and the two of them holding hands and talking like nothing was wrong and that there might be a day where they could be together without Dan embarrassing himself in order to do so. He was smiling at her, and he looked over at him, stopping as he turned to her and took her other hand in his. He then hugged her as if she was the most fragile thing in the world that he could not let go. It was then that Danny heard someone playing music and he woke up to see that his alarm clock had gone off and was playing his favorite song at the moment. He smiled slightly at the music, unaware that it was so early in the morning. Who wakes up at 9 AM?

Danny thought about how he was at the moment. He had woken up in his nice warm bed in his nice warm room way too early for him to be happy. He sat up in bed and looked over to see that his alarm clock said that he was late for some meeting... Whatever that was about. He looked over at his roommate, Altair, and thought about how he should wake him. It was a fun game he liked to play with himself, the rudest way to wake up his roommate when he himself was grumpy about being up early.

He giggled like a little boy as he realized what he was going to do. He grabbed his pillow and threw it, not very hard, but hard enough to wake his roommate. He then moves to kneel by the bed and smile at him. "I wanted to make sure the first thing you woke up to was this pretty face. Now come on, there's some meeting that we were supposed to be at ten minutes ago called breakfast,"
Dan said as he smiled cheerfully at his roommate with, maybe, a little too much sarcasm.

He jumped up and away, going to his bag that he hadn't bothered to unpack yet. He rummaged through it, throwing a shirt over his otherwise bare torso, cold from the lack of warm blankets all of a sudden. He looked back at Tair for a moment, ducked into his still empty closet, and switched his pajama bottoms for some jeans. He wasn't self conscious, but he hadn't worn the best undergarments to change in front of his roommate.

As he emerged from the closet, he tossed his pajama bottoms on his bed, not bothering with making the bed or anything. He just wasn't that kind of guy, unless girls were coming over, that was different. He grabbed a pair of boots, not bothering to tie them as he hopped around, trying to pull the boots on. "Come on Tair. I want to swing by the-" Dan paused as he heard the announcement having opened the door to the world so they might not feel quite so claustrophobic.

"So much for the... you know," Danny mumbled, indirectly referring to the area near a certain someone's dorm. He wasn't sure if she was here yet since he had just gotten in the night before, very late, but it was always worth looking to find out.

Dan grabbed his guitar in it's case. He liked carrying it around all the time, it made him more comfortable to know it would be good to have it on him in case he got upset. He slung the straps over his shoulder and leaned against the doorway to the room the son of Apollo and the son of Hypnos shared, waiting for Tair to get ready. As Dan looked down the hall, he caught sight of Amanda in the distance. He almost called out to her, was gonna give her a wink and stuff, but then he heard Jensen answer the door and decided against it. It was better to just not mess with the relationship when Jensen was around. He's a cool guy, but he's not a fan of flirting with his girl, or his good friend, or whatever they are.

"Taaaiiiir.... I want foooooood," Dan groaned, sliding down the door's frame slowly, as if starving. He sat down and looked down at his phone, looking around before shooting the text he wasn't sure was a good idea, or not, to Isra.

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Yo, heading to go eat. Come join, fill me in on what you didn't yet do over the summer!
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Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Isra Tennyson Character Portrait: Morgan Dufresne Character Portrait: Daniel Keisuke
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__________Daughter of Hades__________
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____"ιƒ σηℓу ωє ωєяє вяανє єησυgн тσ ℓινє тнє ℓινєѕ ωє ѕтσℓє."

_____________________∂ιαℓσgυє cσℓσя✧#777777
_____________________тнσυgнт cσℓσя✦ #555555
______________________________outfit


She had risen with the sun, gently placing her bare feet on the cold wooden floor with a soft hiss. Restlessness had plagued her that night, tossing and turning with no chance of dreams in sight. So she stole away into the dawn. Quietly, as to not wake her sleeping roommate, she threw on a sweater (her favorites), a pair of jeans, and some shoes and slipped out the door. She didn't know exactly where she was headed, but she knew a walk was needed. Her feet led her to the trail that led to the cemetery on instinct, so often had she traveled the path. Coming upon the tombstones, she was half tempted to raise one of the souls for a nice conversation. She opted against it, though, knowing she was already tired, and any exertion could lead to a pounding migraine. So she passed the graveyard, continuing on her trail into the forest. It became harder to follow there, changing from pavement to a beaten dirt trail. Isra couldn't say she minded though, she rather liked the genuine feel of it; it gave her the opportunity to gather her thoughts.

Her summer had been uneventful, mostly nights spent beside her mother's grave. It was far too exhausting for her to call her up every night, but even just the presence of her bones was comforting. Hours in her aunt's house never passed slowly, always the air inside the apartment was muggy and suffocating. Strangely enough, she longed for the city when she was stuck in the academy, but once she was back in the city, the illusion she had constructed of joy seemed to dissipate and she could only wish she was back at the school. There was something perhaps mildly ironic about the constant cycle of disappointment she put herself through, though it's not as though she could complain. She makes her own bed, and she's learned to lie in it.

She continued her stroll for quite some time, losing track of the minutes then hours. Eventually, she checked her phone. 7:30. Damn. It's be an equally long walk back to her dorm, and by the time she just barely breached the main campus grounds, it was already 8:45. Another fifteen minuted had landed her by her dorm, where her roommate was no longer. She briefly considered taking a quick shower, but decided against it. The leisurely pace of her walk combined with the chilly morning hours meant she hadn't sweat at all, and she was going to be late for breakfast anyways.

Just then, there was a vibration in her back pocket. She pulled it out, frowning slightly, as she wondered just who it was that would be texting her.

From: Danny
Yo, heading to go eat. Come join, fill me in on what you didn't yet do over the summer!


She shared a short laugh with her phone. Of course it would be Danny; he was just the type to text his friends first thing in the morning.

To: Danny
Sounds like a plan. I'm heading to the dining hall now, tell me when you get there.


Isra had never learned to incorporate emotion into texting; it was brusque, short, to the point. Sometimes she wished she could put just the right amount of exclamation points in, or those stupid little faces, but she never could figure out the secret code, so eventually she gave up.

It was a short walk from her dormitory to the dining hall (though it had been delayed slightly by a quick stop at the bulletin board. Special guest? What was that all about?), and when she arrived, she couldn't catch sight of Danny or his sleepy roommate at all. Again, she pulled her phone out of her pocket, this time her heart thudding nervously. It was always difficult to make first contact, even if it was with her best friend (and only her best friend). Pulling in a deep breath, she pulled up their text history anyways, quickly tapping a new message.

To: Morgan
You're probably in the dining hall already, right? I know you. Mind telling me where you're sitting? There are no open tables and I don't want to barge in on some total stranger's conversation. Plus, I totally want to catch up! Texting isn't the same as actually talking.


She pocketed her phone once more, joining the food lines as she waited for a response from either of her friends.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Phoebe Lane Character Portrait: Isra Tennyson Character Portrait: Juliette M. Kingsley Character Portrait: Aiden W. Stuart Character Portrait: Arthos Thror Character Portrait: Dylan Ramirez Character Portrait: Hayden Cenix
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Après moi, le déluge.
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    A silent buzz at his side alerted Aiden of a new message just as another scheme had begun to form in his sleep-clouded mind. His eyes left his current target, a fidgety senior he had only met on occasion, only once he had fished out his phone and unlocked it with a well-practice swipe of his thumb. He was greeted by a response from Bee and her words momentarily chased away whatever plot he had started to weave and replaced them with a quick rundown of his class schedule while he tried to plan his day. He was a bit more awake than he had been when he had sent her the previous message and that could be seen in the improving grammar in the message he was typing back.


    To: Phoebe Lane
    lol i think how gullible mortals were made the job all the more easy. and i blame science ;) how about our next study session? let's meet a bit earlier so that we can actually get work done as well.


    He paused there, blinking at the screen, before hitting the send button and taking a sip out of his thermos. Something felt off and an inexplicable restlessness had settled into him. Call it a gut feeling, but he had the feeling that he would soon need to address his less than amiable feelings towards his godly parents and, frankly, that was the last thing he wanted to think about right now so he looked back up, scanning the large hall for any source of distraction.

    His eyes landed on the twelfth grader he had spotted earlier. Subject AHB-XI, his mind finally supplied, child of Athena and one he had not had much chance to observe yet. A quick glance back down at his phone indicated that he still had much time to spare and that was enough to spur him into action while the son of Athena was busy approaching another senior. It wasn't hard to guess what all the awkward shuffling betrayed. Poor lad picked a really bad time to make a move on his crush especially since Aiden was still dead set on proving 'Manda wrong. Or so Hecate's ever impetuous son would think.

    Seeing the short distance between his two targets, Aiden produced a wand out of his sleeve. It was shorter than most, but its size made it easier to conceal and explain without taking too much away from its energy channeling properties. True, it limited the amount of runes that could be carved into the wood, but for that was irrelevant for spells as simple as the ones Aiden was about to cast.

    With a slight twist of his wrist, Aiden tapped his thermos with his wand, making sure the piece of wood remained no higher than an inch or two above the dining table so that it would be less noticeable. "With negativity and impurity I condemn this water," he whispered under his breath while invoking the smell of rotten eggs and methane in his mind. Count on him to warp a cleansing spell into the complete opposite of what it had been meant to do. Then, Aiden slid the sealed container, liquid sloshing noisily within its confines, towards the upper right corner of an invisible pentagram he quickly traced with his wand before pointing in the direction of one Dylan Ramirez with the piece of wood. "Accept this tribute and wear it with pride. Like a second skin it will remain, detectable to all, but to oneself and until the next rainfall it will stay."

    At the last minute, however, Aiden changed his target on a whim, redirecting his wand and channeling his spell in the direction of the girl Dylan had been speaking to instead. Like many lesser spells, the one Aiden had cast did not disturb the air in its path nor did it leave any visible traces of it existence. Creatures more attuned to ambient energy would still be able to sense it, but not see it with the naked eye. Should his spell hit home, every pore of her epidermis would suddenly begin to emit a faint smell of rotten eggs. It wouldn't be enough to alert the whole dining hall, especially considering the little preparation he had dedicated to his makeshift ritual, but definitively noticeable to all within her close proximity. Except to herself of course.

    Just how strong was Dylan's crush and how would he react if the child of Apollo wasn't as perfect as he had imagined, Aiden was determined to find out and this would only be the first test out of many he had in store for him.

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Mood: Inquisitive | Status: Restless| Location: Dining Hall
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Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Mystique Velver Character Portrait: Isra Tennyson Character Portrait: Juliette M. Kingsley Character Portrait: Aiden W. Stuart Character Portrait: Dylan Ramirez Character Portrait: Tristan Viper Character Portrait: Terrance Alcaeus Character Portrait: Hayden Cenix
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Lurking in her talents wasn’t humour-never humour but it was good to laugh at herself and succeed in making Tristan amused too and she could simply not stop smiling. Up until he proposed to race. “What?” She questioned, her brows pulling together as she slowed her pace more looking to him.
His burst of sprint had answered itself. He really had proposed a race and meant it. She had only been equipped with chucks as shoes and they were nowhere near reliable to close the distance and manage the different textures of the grounds even as a demi-god blessed with enhanced speed. But Eris’ children were somewhere on the list as fast gods too and it was evident in Tristan’s running.

Without much thought she took on the form of a cheetah and broke into her own sprint after him. Mystique was ecstatic with herself as she was able to shapeshift with ease and take on the body of a cheetah but she was racing for the moment and happier to see herself gaining on his two legs that weren’t posing much of a match after all. The wild cat had to drop back in speed however as she approached the building where sharp turns and smooth floors lay but she had exceptional acceleration and speed on her which was used effectively as she gained the lead. Luckily, Tristan wasn’t the kind to sulk about cheating or so she presumed but she was happy in herself either way as she reached the dining hall first and took on the successful properties of a cheetah. The downside of the transformation quickly struck her though as she skidded down an aisle between tables and chairs, naturally trying to claw at the floor to reach a halt.

"Easy, darling. I'm aware we have a special guest speaker but it's not that much to be excited about." Came the English voice of an older man that bought Mystique to a stop by standing in her wild drift course. She slid into his legs before noting it was a teacher. A teacher, she gulped, allowing herself to transform back and reveal her identity.
“I'm so sorry, sir,” she said meekly unable to meet his eyes remaining on the floor. If she weren't doing bad enough in power control she certainly demonstrated it now.
The response that she did not get to see was nothing more than a small smile and Mr. Alcaeus wandering back off to his own spot in the dining hall.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Altair D'Cruz Character Portrait: Isra Tennyson Character Portrait: Juliette M. Kingsley Character Portrait: Aiden W. Stuart Character Portrait: Dylan Ramirez Character Portrait: Daniel Keisuke
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Dan looked up as Tair walked over him before standing himself and following his friend, if not a little slowly and dragging his feet to return the favor of slowing them down. Dan smiled as he saw Tair texting someone. "Oooo, does Tair have a girlfriend now?" Danny asked, teasing his friend as he continued to drag his feet before picking up the pace upon having the favor of yelling returned. "I'm going to hurry not because you told me to, but because I feel like it," Danny said in his most rebellious voice he has.

Dan looked down to see he owed lessons and wondered if he could somehow have Teddy steal the time so that he didn't have to give lessons and could instead spend the time with Isra. That would be nice. He would like that.

To Dylan:You see buddy, I have recently broken my voice and therefore cannot give instruction by speaking. You will only learn through telepathy, since you can't do that, I guess we can't have guitar lessons.

Danny sent the message with the most serious face he had on. He knew his friend would know he was joking and did it for the sake of making him smile. He continued walking next to Altair only to receive another text and just stop where he was without warning.

To JullieteI'm coming and don't worry, you're already a looser! You're my sister!

Danny had his half sister in his phone as "Romeo's GF" for whatever reason. Maybe it was because someone had once gone through all of his contacts to change their name to something related to their name to just mess with Danny. Dan had decided he either didn't care or liked it, but was too lazy to decide which and just went ahead and left it as it was. Dan then continued to walk, jogging slightly to catch up to Tair. Danny heard yet another text and groaned, stopping suddenly once again, then smiled at who it was and whooped, pumping his fist in the air in his excitement to talk to her. The best part? Nobody knew who he was so psyched over! Then his crush would be out and Isra would probably reject him, at least in his head that was how it went.



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Isra: I'll be there in two minutes.

Dan's contact had Isra in it as Amore Mio, My Love in Italian since few people in the states seemed to speak or be able to read Italian. Danny made the text short and sweet so he could take off running to get there as fast as possible. He ran by Altair, leaving him in the dust as he ran to reach the dining hall, ignoring the banging of the guitar on his back. He slowed to a jog as he approached so he wasn't so desperate in appearance.

Dan gave Dylan a slight wave as he took back up his running so he could reach the food line before someone else got there since he had spotted Isra at the end of the line. "I swear I will talk to you in a few minutes, thank you, I know I'm your biggest fan, I love you too, bye," Danny said as he gave a slide shuffle thing before resuming his running. He skidded to a stop behind Isra, his hands in his pocket, willing his body not to sweat and praying his dad was enough of a ladies man that he understood Dan's need to look good and not stink from exertion.

"There she is!" Danny stated as he held his arms up as if presenting Isra to an invisible audience. "So, have you gotten a new favorite song I must learn how to play so you have a fabulous acoustic version?" Danny asked as he grabbed a muffin and began peeling the wrapper off.

He wasn't sure what flavor it was, but as soon as he took a bite, he grabbed a napkin and spit it out. He dropped the gross half eaten bran muffin into the trash then hesitantly reached for one with something that might have been chocolate chips, he hoped they were chocolate chips. Dan was very pleased when it was and was able to swallow it.

"I'm telling you what, muffins are not just ugly cupcakes, they are just a different part of the cupcake family and prefer to not use makeup. So basically, muffins are beautiful as they are as they are like us, beautiful when natural. In other words, you look very muffinish today," Danny said in the stupidest pick up line he had ever used. He turned slightly away so he could bang his head on a table and lay down to die when he realized it wouldn't do any good and turned back to Isra. "So, what're you gonna do later? I did get my violin tuned if you want to come over and hear that one song from last year with a properly tuned violin," Danny asked, feeling like she would automatically say no since it was him. He would think every other girl would say yes, but the one that mattered? Why would she see anything in him? She was so much better...

Dan glanced back at Dylan and his other friends, scanning the dining area for anyone he might have missed. He saw people he knew and was friends with spaced out, then found the one guy he wasn't friends with, at all. His arch nemesis, which wasn't Danny being over dramatic, was currently doing something Danny didn't like. He debated interfering, then realized he'd have to eventually. Danny was fast, whispering under his breath so that it was only audible to him, "Ugly acts dealt to another shall return to you and become a bother."

It wasn't one of his best curses, and he could already feel lightheaded, the darkness he felt increasing on him causing him to feel as if he was suffocating for a moment before it passed and the curse was sent to encounter the jerk. Danny hoped that whatever Aiden had sent at Dylan was something really bad, not because he wanted Dylan to be in pain or whatever, but so Aiden was. It was a good jab, the first of many between the two Danny imagined. He gave a slight smirk before returning his full attention to Isra, having done the entire act when she was busy with the food options.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Jensen Adler Character Portrait: Mystique Velver Character Portrait: Isra Tennyson Character Portrait: Juliette M. Kingsley Character Portrait: Aiden W. Stuart Character Portrait: Amanda Cartwright Character Portrait: Dylan Ramirez Character Portrait: Tristan Viper Character Portrait: Daniel Keisuke Character Portrait: Hayden Cenix
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The first sign that something was off--and that should have set off the alarm bells in his head-- was the fact that well…there were no discernible physical reaction from his target. He brushed it off as excellent poker faces. The second would be the wide berth he was suddenly given and odd glances being shot his way. The third came in the form of numerous students scrunching their noses as soon as they set foot into the dining hall through the door within close proximity of where Aiden stood. And then his eyes landed on a certain son of Apollo. Well. Crap.

Something was surely up. If looks could kill-- looks that didn't belong to gorgon--, Daniel would have died a couple of times already. The people around Aiden were acting in a way that he had predicted those around the older Apollo girl would. Somehow, the effects he had expected from his spell had latched onto him instead of the intended target. How that had happened, he wasn't too sure. He just knew who had made it happen even if he had no proof.

Hecate's spawn had his attention was momentarily removed from Dylan in favor of glaring figurative daggers at the smirking meddler and identifying the problem at hand so much that he completely missed Amanda and her beau's arrival. It was unfortunate because her presence may have tempted him to step down, at least for now.

Good thing he had made sure it was just as easy to break the spell as it was to cast. A glance towards the large windows of the dining hall confirmed the gloomy presence of rain cloud. It looked as though the morning drizzle had merely been an aperitif for a storm to come.

A light nudge with his mind sent a glass pitcher crashing onto the hard floor. It broke upon impact, the crash echoing throughout the hall before subsiding until it was muffled by the sound of students chatting excitedly among one another. It didn't last long, but it was a good enough distraction for Aiden to point his wand at the cloudy sky through one of the large windows.

"Accio Nimbus," he said, smiling to himself when it dawned to him what he had just said. There was power in words and it was sometimes fortunate that not all had the power to make them reality. Some languages were more compatible with specific rituals or tools and Aiden needed all the power he had for this so he had switched to Latin. His knowledge of is was still limited compared to a lot of his half-siblings, but it was enough for what he needed.

A gust of wind brushed past the dining students, window panes and utensils clattered as a humid air front seeped into the room and ascended, invisible to the naked eye, towards the high ceiling. Just then, a cheetah came skidding into the dining hall, eliciting yelps of surprise from the new students, but Aiden ignored it and cast the next spell, "Veteresco." A dirty white puff of cloud would form. It floated harmlessly at first, but would soon gain in size until a drop of rain, then another and another descended upon the attendees. While it was no storm, it was a perplexing enough drizzle that fit the description of "rainfall," which promptly broke Aiden's first spell.

Just then, as he lowered his wand, it caught onto a nearby cup of juice that someone had carelessly left at his table, spilling its content all over the table and himself. "Aw, shit," he swore before massaging his temple when he felt the beginning of a migraine creep up on him. He let out a loud sneeze, feeling the cold settle in all of the sudden. Well, he was bound to get wet anyway sooner or later anyway.

That wasn't his most subtle display of power, but hopefully the staff had been too busy dealing with Cheetah-girl to see him wave his wand around. Just to be safe, Aiden discreetly rubbed his prints off the piece of wood with the hem of his coat and dropped the piece of wood. Then, he proceeded to give it a push with his telekinetic powers to roll it under an inconspicuous cabinet.