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Tristan North

"I used to be a star- People say I'm still full of hot air."

0 · 463 views · located in Fort Feathermount

a character in “Brigade”, as played by Miss Nomer

Description

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"Flames only blaze for so long- you have to burn as bright as you can before you're gone."


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Name:
"Pay no attention to the middle name."
Tristan Marion North


Nickname:
Tristan, North, Trissy-poo (mockingly)


Age:
25


Sexuality:
Heterosexual


Hometown:
Tristan was born and raised in a small town just south of nowhere, with a population insignificant enough to rarely show up on maps, and nothing to boast of other than a deceased resident who once held the record for longest time spent underwater. He grew up counting the days until he could get out.


Occpation:
Before the demons attacked, Tristan North had become an household names. He was one of those stars who seem to come out of nowhere, an overnight success, though most of American doesn't notice the years of work put into that 'overnight' feel. He had several chart-topping albums, and had actually been on tour when everything went, well, terrible.


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Likes:
Flirting || Music || Large Crowds || Fast Paces || Eyebrows || Warm Weather || Other People || His Guitar || Red M'n'Ms || Ballpoint Pens || Excitement || Big Cities || Skateboarding || Sleight of Hand Tricks || Parties || Tall Tales

Dislikes:
His Hometown || Being Alone || Silence || Sluggishness || Obscurity || Dogs || Citrus || Cold Weather || Thunderstorms || Electronic Music || Watching Sports || Boredom || Deadpan Humor || Stiffness || Sandals || Peter Pan

School of Magic:
The Natural School

Special Power:
Fire. The element seems so suitable for Tristan, so perhaps there was some sort of particular reasoning for each individual receiving the ability that they did when the mysterious man, the teacher, promised to help them erase the past. The element is known for its volatility, and, unfortunately, Tristan cannot yet control the flames, which so quickly develop a mind of their own. He can create small flames in the palm of his hand, and needs only feed them for the flames to grow. At the moment, it is difficult for him to reign in the flames, however, making him an example of how flames can so easily be a method of senseless destruction. He can set them in motion, as it stands, and control their path, but in the case of flames on matter, he has very little power. Those sparks he makes in the air are more easily manipulated, at least.

Strengths:
Charismatic - It took Tristan more than good looks and his music to make him a household name, and that 'more' came in the form of a sort of natural charisma that the young man has always seemed to possess. He's got something that makes people pay attention when he speaks, even if they don't like what he's saying.
Singing - While some manage to do it, Tristan didn't use only looks to launch his musical career. He's genuinely good at singing, and can read music fairly as well, along with playing the guitar and piano. He hasn't written his own songs for a long time, though.
Sleight of Hand - Before he wanted to be a musician, Tristan wanted to be a magician. He used to spend hours working on card tricks and other magic tricks, trying to dazzle people with them. He still likes to learn new tricks, and thus has become fairly decent at sleight of hand.

Weaknesses:
Impulsive - Unfortunately, though he can work hard, Tristan has never been known for having a great deal of self-control. He's not necessarily impatient, but the young man has developed the tendency of leaping before he looks, something that is hardly good in someone who now wields such an unpredictable element.
Animals - Animals don't like Tristan. He can't explain it, this is just the way it's always been. Cats always scratch, dogs bite, and birds seem to single him out for their droppings. It's only worsened since he became a fire manipulator.
Self-Centered - Tristan isn't necessarily a bad guy. That being said, he can sometimes fail to realize that not everyone thinks the same thoughts or values the same things as he does. Being more focused on himself, he can be oblivious to the feelings of others, and can say unintentionally insensitive things. He's not selfish, but can certainly be accused of being dense.

Fears:
Being Forgotten || Gunshots || Death


ImagePersonaltiy:
Tristan North hasn't always been the sort of person that people pay attention to, but at some point during high school, he seemed to suddenly shoot up, fill out, and become the sort of person that compels others to listen to them. He can have every eye in a crowd on him in a few moments, and has a way of speaking that makes people want to be on his side, even if they had previously been against him. Perhaps this charisma comes from the ease of his speech, or is aided by gifts given by puberty. Perhaps it comes from gradually gained confidence. It likely comes from the fact that he has learned to be himself in the most unapologetic and genuine way possible. He may be a bit self centered, but he doesn't pretend to be otherwise. He also has this way of talking to a person that can make them feel like the most important person in the world- even if they know that he might not be completely absorbing everything that they say. Yes, that may just be it. But whatever it is, his ability to grab the attention of other people is undeniable, and is half of his rise to fame, at least. He doesn't need flashy clothing or publicity stunts, just his own self. He's able to come across as far more interesting than he actually is, and makes people think he knows what he's talking about, even in clueless-ness.

As was mentioned, Tristan is a confident individual. As a kid, he was scrawny and awkward, the sort of person who is picked last and never manages to get a word in edgewise. When puberty came with good news, people began to look at him and treat him differently. Eventually, his attitude, and self esteem, began to change to fit the new environment created by a deeper voice and more impressive physique. He gained a sort of confidence that had previously seemed as elusive as a will-o-the-whisps to him, things that were only for other kids. Now, he seems as though he was born self-assured, and as though he has every reason to be so. Part of his impulsive nature can be attributed to this confidence- believing that everything will work out for him has justified his tendency to act first, think later. He is certain that everything will eventually go his way, because past experiences have pointed to this as the truth. So long as he works hard enough, or is willing to be active rather than passive, Tristan believes in favorable consequences. Of course, his confidence applies to people, as well. Observing the way people seem to be welcoming towards him, he has come to trust people in a way which is somewhat less possible for someone riddled with insecurities.

If it isn't clear by now, Tristan is something of an Extrovert. Even when he was a wallflower, the boy was always trying to find some way to be part of the in crowd, as though that was the only thing that could give his life fulfillment. He continues to draw energy from being around people, in a way, easily exhausted by being on his own, strange as that may sound. Being with other people helps to invigorate the young man, which might be why he always prefers to surround himself with people before doing anything important. He's always been a team-player sort of person, after all, though he isn't always the best at remembering to use methods that benefit the entirety of the team. Further than just being outgoing around normal groups, Tristan can be a rather flirtatious individual, and the media once constantly posted updates, making guesses at his object of affection, because he does tend to flirt quite naturally, occasionally without even fully realizing it. He's not necessarily wanting to sleep with every person that he flirts with, though that is the case at times. Perhaps he just enjoys the idea of being the focus of a person's attention, and finds flirting to be one of the various methods through which one can attain such attention. He might not always seem to be the intellectual sort, but he can at least keep up some level of witty banter, and flirting with him is the best way to find this.

To be blunt, Tristan is a self-centered sort of person. He is by no means unkind, and often times doesn't even realize the way that he acts as though people think on the same frequency as he does. It isn't that he will sacrifice everyone else for his benefit, but that he assumes people want what he wants, have the same values as he does, etc. If something doesn't strike him as rude, how could it be considered rude by anyone else? Such thoughts are a common pattern with the young man. It's been a pattern for a long time, really, despite a big family that ought to have taught him otherwise. He can be blind to the wants and needs of others, at times, though it is unintentional. His ambition is an example of this- he has always dreamed big, of having his name be something important and known. So centered on this dream, he might have forgotten what was good for other people- not picking up his sister from school because he needed to practice, or missing an important date for a concert. He is incredibly hardworking, and isn't above putting elbow grease into his goals- he may be impulsive, but he does have appreciation for the work required in order to succeed. He simply tends to forget others when he does this. He likes being in groups, but perhaps would not be the best leader, because he can sometimes fail to think of the good of others before himself.

Despite this, he is kind. Most who know him, even those who have been blown off at some point, know this. If he does notice a person who needs help, or is having a rough time, Tristan will do his best to lend aid to them. He can't leave a person in need alone, even if they furiously deny his offers for help. Maybe that's part of his self centered aspect, as well- he assumes that his way of helping people is the right one, misguided. Regardless of other components, he is a sweet person at his core, even if he can seem a bit dense towards the clockwork of others at times.

Charismatic || Confident || Impulsive || Trusting || Extroverted ||Flirtatious || Self-Centered || Ambitious || Hardworking || Kind


ImageHistory:
Millie Frank and Henry North both grew up in the same little town for the entirety of their lives and, like many other youths of the town, dreamed of getting out. Unfortunately, any escape from the town was brief, lasting only long enough for Henry to get a medical degree, and Millie a teaching degree. The two had been high school rivals, actually, and in a terribly cliche series of events, ended up falling for each other and marrying. As it happened, no one else was enough to keep up with them. They ended up back in their small town, which was in Illinois and was pretty much entirely based around, for whatever reason, a factory that processed condiments. Being one of the only doctors in town, for most worked in the large hospital an hour or so away, Henry was seen very highly in their little town. The two had children after a few years of working, but when they did have children, there were quite a few. First were twins, Danielle and Willow. Then came Joseph, the first son, followed by Tristan, then Richard, and finally, Hailey. There are gaps of various lengths between the children, but the family was large, all the same. And, as is seen as stereotypical in large families, there were times when it seemed that some children received more attention than others. As a rule of sorts, Tristan was the most frequently overlooked. This is why, more likely than not, he came to covet the idea of being someone worth noticing.

Throughout elementary and middle school, Tristan was not exactly the popular sort. He wasn't exactly the dorky sort, either. He was the type who sits in the comfortable, yet dull, middle ground. Not cool but not uncool, not a genius but not an idiot, etc. He was never invited to anything, but people probably wouldn't have said anything if she showed up to a large party. Over all, he wasn't really seen as worth noticing, except for as his parents' child, and perhaps as the younger sibling of Willow and Danielle, Top Athlete and Queen Bee, respectively. Desiring that which he lacked, and not low enough to have experience any bullying which might inspire resentment rather than admiration, Tristan always dreamed of being the person that people immediately looked at for group projects, or who other people admired. He tried to wear the clothing, or buy the products, that he thought would help him to achieve this. However, it wasn't a material good that he lacked, but the sort of quality that makes people listen. He had yet to form the charismatic mannerisms that he would later possess.

Still, even without the self confidence factor, the beginning of sophomore year did find itself to be a sudden change for Tristan, who had gone through several sudden growth spurts over the course of freshman year and the summer before sophomore year. He didn't need the charisma quite yet, because people would at least look at him, even if they didn't listen. Yes, puberty came with a bonus for Tristan, as his voice finally stopped cracking in awkward places and his acne, which had been rather terrible for the past two years, began to clear thanks to a generous dose of skin products. He may not have walked and talked with the star potential he now has, but he began to look the part. And it was only a matter of time before he began to notice other people noticing it. Having now experienced girls flirting with him openly, guys who never looked his way before making conversation, and opportunity unfolding before him, he began to walk with a straighter back, with a slightly more relaxed look about him. He began to seem more at ease. He gained the confidence to perform with his guitar in front of others. He took part in the school's talent show and began making videos on youtube, probably following the line of hopeful musicians doing the same exact thing.

He even built up a small following, signed with a minor label, and began touring. Because of this, Tristan ended up never attending university, instead focusing on his music. He seemed to live and breathe the stuff, constantly working towards it. Despite all of his impulsiveness and such, the young man was still hardworking enough to fuel his ambition, and after three or four years, he was luckier than most minor musicians. He was recruited by a major label after one of his songs broke through and was well received. On one hand, Tristan knew that he was lucky, because most musicians spend years and never get discovered. But he was still a somewhat self centered person at this point, and so didn't think of it much. He began to think it a matter of course that he should be discovered. And that he should shoot up to fame following this. His luck pursued, and the young man shot up in fame, topping charts and becoming a household name. For the most part, he actually kept his name clean of scandals, perhaps due to a rather strict manager, but that doesn't mean there weren't issues throughout his climb to fame.

And when the demons attacked, he was in a plane flying home from Japan. The plane lost control and crashed, luckily into California, so he wasn't stranded in the middle of the ocean. Still, several people died- and given the time to come, perhaps this was for the best. They found it to be already a mess where they landed, and the group hide together at first, though it wasn't long before everyone began to part ways. Tristan survived partially through using anything he could find as a weapon, but also because he found a well protected building that had been left behind in the rush to escape the demons. He had spent a while living there, going out only when necessary, before he was approached by a strange man who promised that he could help undo what had happened. Of course, Tristan agreed.

And thus he found himself in the cave, given influence over fire, and then being sent back in time.

So begins...

Tristan North's Story

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Delphine Vawdrey Character Portrait: Adamus Locke Character Portrait: Desdemona Ariel Forte Character Portrait: Jenny Pilot Character Portrait: Abigail Turner Character Portrait: Jessica Cartwright Character Portrait: Oasis Monarae Character Portrait: Piper Baker Character Portrait: Jordan Levy Character Portrait: Alexander Andersson Character Portrait: Isaac Gil-Ruiz Character Portrait: Darren Conway Character Portrait: Tristan North Character Portrait: Savannah Hart Character Portrait: Emily Parker Character Portrait: Kara Darrow Character Portrait: Noah Richards
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Southern Ireland, around the year 1250
It is mid-afternoon. It being the middle of summer, the weather is warm, yet cool in the woodland forest. Although it may seem like any other day for the villagers residing just a mile and a half from the majestic and secluded Fort Feathermount, it is a special occasion for magic-wielders. Today is the Holiday of the Mages; the day when the Five Mages were thought to have spread the gift of magic upon humankind. At this time, the thirty have been told to stay put in the fort while everyone is getting ready for an "orientation" to be held in the fort's back courtyard. There is still a large amount of uncertainty and mystery in the air as the thirty prepare to hear what they will be doing for the next couple of days, or months, or perhaps even years...





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Everything was quiet for a moment, and then the present situation began to unfold. Although they seemed far-off and distant, the sounds of a jeering crowd could be heard from all around the swampy area. Not all of the cries muttered from the villagers’ mouths seemed angry, in fact, a few people were laughing, happy and awfully excited to see the extermination of a witch for the first time in their dull lives. Nothing ever happened in the small provincial town, and to the residents, an execution was equivalent to the king marching through the streets with his men mounted upon beautiful white horses.

The victim, (the witch) about to be persecuted, looked down at her grimy bare feet. Her jet-black hair hung off her scalp like thin pieces of string, and her face was barely visible. Her rough brown hands were binded behind her, and her feet were tied to the rickety old chair that was currently being suspended over the river by a rope. It was an interesting way of execution; slowly being drowned into the practically bottomless river, but in the minds of the villagers, there was no better way to exterminate someone who was blatantly a threat to their already poor, miserable lives. This woman would surely die. There was no way of escape.

Every little noise was blurry and faded out for a moment, and then as the sound of a single man’s voice penetrated the other villagers’ conversations, everything became clear.

“…By the people’s consent, you are to be executioned on this day for the practice of witchcraft and resisting arrest. Any last words?”
She said nothing.

The rope lowered. The woman knew it was all over. In just a few short moments, her body would be entirely submerged in the thickness of the water. Strangers whom she had once called friends started to jeer. The feelings of anxiousness and heightened adrenaline could be felt in everyone’s minds. The woman looked down as her wooden seat started to touch the tip of the water. Before her toes could feel the water’s edge, she looked towards the left, obviously focusing her attention on some single person before her actual demise could begin. Her brown eyes were pointed towards a middle-aged man who seemed almost out of place amongst the crowd.. With his arms crossed and his face lowered in a scowl, he nodded towards her in a simple fashion. In that moment, the accused witch felt a sense of tranquility. Once her ankles were submerged in the gray-hued river, she whipped her head downwards, and gently closed her eyes. Despite the current situation, there was a small part of herself that felt hopeful, but most of that sense was overcome by sheer terror. She would surely die. There was no way of escape…

And then the jeering, the laughter, even the gentle sound of the river’s current… it all came to a stop. It was so horrifyingly silent, it was if the world had become deaf. Everyone’s faces were the same. All the villagers who had attended the execution were white-faced, wide-eyed, and shared the same expression of stark disbelief and terror as they gazed upon the scene of the execution. There, sitting upon the water as if it was an entirely flat surface, was the woman. Her arms and legs were still banded together by thick ropes. However, that didn’t last for long, because with a sudden flash of light that seemed to be a spark, the bindings that held her arms together snapped free and sank into the river. Instinctively, she undid her tied feet with her free arms, and threw the spare rope off to the side onto the shore nearby. There was a moment where she took a few seconds to catch her breath, and then gradually, her mind processed the current situation. The way she sat with her legs crossed on the river’s surface; it was as though this hated victim was now a queen sitting triumphantly upon a gilded throne. Her bewildered face projected otherwise; although the picture was stunning, it was also devastatingly petrifying. And then, suddenly, there was the shrilly sound of a blood-curdling scream, and everything faded black.

Delphine woke up to the coldness of the cobblestone floor. Her eyes wide with fear, she gasped. A dream; she had only been reliving the tragic moments of her recent past. Thanks to the failed potion she had created only an hour ago, instead of peaking into the lives of the founders of Fort Feathermount from generations back, she had only seen visions of her own miserable life. The spherical bottle that had contained the failed potion was still in her hands. She settled the empty glass down on the ground, and after wiping away the trickles of sweat on her forehead, sat herself up into a standing position. She took a look at the foucalt pendulum clock across the alchemy lab, and saw that it must have been around quarter to four. One could argue that such an invention was not brought into the world until the renaissance, but that person would be showing little knowledge of the magic-wielding world. In other words, the clock was only thought to be invented in 1851, but it was actually created long before that time. Wizards and witches had created the clock, along with many other things, first.
Just then, there was a knock at the locked door. Delphine whipped her head around to the front of the room, gave a soft groan, and opened the wooden door.




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Adamus stared at a disheveled-looking Delphine, and raised his right eyebrow in bewilderment. “Dee,” he said in a firm voice, “What happened? It must have been five minutes since I first knocked on the door. Why didn’t you answer right away?” The brown-skinned woman exhaled rather loudly, as if in slight annoyance. “I think you already know the answer to that question, Adamus.”

He gave a smirk and a chuckle. “You’re right. I do. I could see your aura stone-cold on the floor. I came to see if you were alright.”
“The last part I do not quite believe,” muttered Delphine teasingly. Although, there was something about the sentence that seemed rather serious. “That potion over there,” Adamus continued, pointing to the empty bottle on the ground, “what was it for?” Dee sighed, and pointed her eyes towards the ground. She hated admitting failure. “I was trying to create some sort of clairsentience-spell within the potion that would allow me to look back on the lives of the founders in order to see things in this fort that are not visible to the common eye. Instead, I saw something else…and I…I passed out.”

Adamus nodded with a sharp and understanding look on his face. His eyes gave the impression that he knew the specific event that Delphine was talking about, the one where she almost died. Instead of questioning her about it, he changed the subject. “So, the Holiday of the Mages; are we still doing that?” Delphine nodded, turned around, and casually strolled back into the room. “Of course. Why should we skip the most important tradition of our ancestors, our culture? Besides, with you around, we cannot help but celebrate it. You and your students have to rebuild good relations with your guardian…after what you have done.”

Adamus responded strongly and quickly, “Look Dee, I know you staunchly disagree with the Sacrament of Bestowal. I know what it means to our culture as well. I had no choice but to do it. If I could tell you what happens in the future, in our future, then I would. But right now, you just have to trust me. I know that’s asking a lot of you, but you have to try.”

“It must be amazing to know how I die,” said Delphine, sharply. It sent a wave of painful silence throughout the small room. After a couple seconds of glaring, Adamus sighed, and turned his attention to a small bell stationed by a window to the left of the room. “Should I alert them? Are you ready to begin?” he asked. Delphine nodded, “Yes, alert them now.”

With a mallet located on a small side-table, Adamus pounded on the black pewter bell. Upon being hit, the large bell made an ominous other-worldly chime that could be heard in every little crevice of the fort, and even miles away from the building, into the forest.




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There was definitely a difference between this forest and the forest that Jenny used to know. For one thing, nothing was on fire. (There were no demons to destroy the land around her.) With the monstrous creatures gone, everything felt strange. Only three days ago, Jenny’s adrenaline was soaring. After travelling to this new world, things had finally become peaceful for once. Here, there was never a time she had to look over a shoulder, never a time she had to worry about a roof over her head or her next meal. It was great, obviously, but it felt strange. She knew she would have to take time to adjust to it.

High up in a sturdy tree, Jenny was writing and drawing in a journal, a thing she used to do before having to constantly worry about her survival. Once she had finished the details on a golden chalice she had been sketching, she closed her notebook, and took a good look at the forest in front of her. You could tell that nothing had been affected by pollution or any influence of a future civilization that could destroy the wildlife. The trees felt stronger and more climbable, while the air was fresher and so rich, that it could put someone to sleep. Jenny carefully searched through her rucksack backpack that had propped on her shoulders, and looked through the junk that had accumulated in her large bag. She had found her old IPhone, (useless not only because it was out of charge, but because there was no reception in the Middle Ages,) a hunting knife, some rope, the remains of a first-aid kit, her friend’s flower ring that she had kept after her devastating death, some pens and pencils, a canteen of water, a pile of clothes, and a blank little flipbook that showed the United Kingdom’s flag on the front. She would be saving that for something special.

Just then, Jenny’s head jolted to the right as she heard the chime of a strong-toned bell. No doubt this was the bell that meant it was time for the thirty young adults to come to Fort Feathermount’s courtyard. Apparently, Madame Vawdrey (or Delphine, as Adamus had introduced her,) was giving some sort of orientation to the group, answering any questions they might have had and laying down the ground rules for the next couple of days (or however long it took to defeat the arising demons.) Seeing how strict she looked when she had first laid her eyes upon the thirty, Jenny did not want to get on the woman’s bad side. She was probably already on her bad side, seeing that she had gone far-off into the woods when she and the group had been originally ordered to stay close to the safety of the fort.

Carefully, Jenny lowered herself from the tree’s sturdy branch that she had been sitting on, and made her way down from the tree. When she was close to the ground, she let go of the branches, and let her brown hiking boots pound the forest floor. She then gripped the straps of her pack tightly, and started to jog. The young woman had never considered herself the athletic type, but she had always been rather fluent in running and climbing. It was probably because she still had the energy of a seven-year-old, but it in all seriousness, it might have been the fact that running and climbing never took as much hand-eye coordination as other athletic activities. Maintaining a well-paced speed as she made her way past walls of thick green vegetation, Jenny looked up at the sky. Soon, the sun would be on its journey towards the west. When she could hear the sounds of flowing water and small chatter, the girl knew she was near the fort at last. She leaned against a tree trunk by the courtyard, making sure that nobody would be able to see her coming. When it was all clear, she quickly walked towards the black cobblestone, and made her way to the center of the large area.

The courtyard that separated the forest from the fort was so big, it could pass for a tiny town. There was a fountain that produced bright-blue sparkly water in the center of the enclosure. From there, a blacksmithing forge and a grindstone stood to the back of the courtyard, closer to the actual fort. Then, to the right, there was a long table and a fire pit, most likely used to dine outside when the weather was nice. On the other side, targets had been set up for archery, and scarecrow-like dummies with slashes around their stomach and head areas stood tranquilly in the warm afternoon. It was strange; dummies and targets had been placed in the courtyard, and yet there were no weapons to practice with. If there were any weapons, Jenny knew that people would probably be crowded around the two stations by now. To be honest, she was somewhat happy about the fact that nobody was really training yet. Although her first impressions weren’t always accurate, she had a feeling the new group she had acquainted herself with contained extremely competitive people. Although she seemed like it, Jenny was not the most confident girl she knew, and often compared herself to other people in a negative way. She knew that the more her and others learned about combat, the faster the demons could be defeated. However, she couldn’t help but wonder if she would soon be handy with a weapon, or prove to be useless at combat, just like her special power. In regards to her special power, Adamus claimed that it would reveal itself to her in time, but Jenny was doubtful, and found herself starting to grow impatient. She would probably be the first among the thirty to be slaughtered by the demons, she was sure of it. The others would be slashing demons left and right like it was their job, while she would be left in the dust. After all, she was just an artist…

With a sigh, the girl made her away over to the fountain, and sat by the edge. While she waited for others to come near, she picked a strand of her new brown-colored hair, (which had previously been blonde only seconds before the group had time-travelled to the middle ages,) and twirled it around her fingertips.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Jenny Pilot Character Portrait: Abigail Turner Character Portrait: Oasis Monarae Character Portrait: Piper Baker Character Portrait: Tristan North
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This thing is so weird, Tristan thinks for the umpteenth time in the past day as he continues to find the differences between a guitar, which he no longer has with him, and this mandore thing that he had been given after someone heard him complain about not having some sort of instrument to fiddle around with when bored. He's the fiddling sort, always holding something in his hands or moving, but instruments specifically give him a way to focus all of that energy into something productive. It had certainly been productive before everything went wrong, as he had made a small fortune off of his music and various promotions. What he really needs right now, however, is not really this instrument, but another person- he's been alone for an hour or so, as everyone kind of split off their separate ways, and he had found himself in an empty room with the andore. Tristan strums at the strings a bit, and tries to play a song. It doesn't exactly sound right, but he's just pleased to have tuned it properly, really. I could work at a renaissance fair or something, he decides, this apparently being the highest of praise in regards to mandore playing. It must be, since he directs it towards himself.

He is about to give it another go when a gong noise, sudden and loud, reverberates through the room. He must be very close to wherever it is that the bell is, because the noise is nearly earsplitting- and that's coming from someone who has played to audiences of thousands. Only quick reflexes prevent the man from dropping his mandore right there and then, perhaps damaging the instrument. He's pretty sure that it's from Spain or Italy or somewhere along those lines, and therefore doesn't know how difficult it is to get access to one from here. You can't exactly just take the train down to Spain, after all. Perhaps it comes from some merchant, but to be safe, he places it down carefully. Upon ascertaining that it is in a good spot, unlikely to be broken or messed with, he darts off towards the sound of the bell.

"Time for some more mystical, Hogwarts education," he says aloud with a grin, walking down the corridor with long strides. He has the benefit of sharing the ability of pyrokinesis with the teacher for the Nature students, meaning that he might be the one she's best equipped to teach. He's certainly enthusiastic about learning, often coming across as a bit to into everything that's going on. It's kind of a coping method- ignoring the past.

As he walks, Tristan notices, through the window, that Jenny is sitting on the stone fountain in the courtyard. That must be where they are supposed to meet, he concludes, as she's far more likely to actually be aware of these things than he is. So, after he descends to the ground floor of the ancient, and often somewhat eerie, building, the young man exits into the courtyard. By now, Piper and Oasis seem to have joined Jenny, though Oasis is still at the edge, walking into the courtyard.

"Good afternoon," he greets them with a warm smile, opting not to sit down. Instead, he stands about halfway between the two, so that he can look at them both simultaneously. "Did you guys have nice mornings?"

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There is no way around it, really: Abigail is in love. She's spent the past two days rarely leaving the confines of Fort Feathermount's incredibly impressive library. It contains not only books that had likely been missing for centuries by the time she was born, and ones that seem to have been written by sorcerers, for sorcerers. The printing press hasn't been invented yet, of course, and yet some of the books have multiple copies, with identical handwriting that hints at some force of printing system created centuries before Gutenburg had ever made his. Perhaps they borrowed technology from the Chinese Empire of the time? Or, more likely, used their advanced knowledge and unique gifts to adopt them. This fort seems to have a few examples of such things, innovations created before their time through the use of magic and the like. She's been reading every book that she can reach for the past two days, speeding through them like others would go through a Magic Tree House or Bearenstein Bears book, and absorbing the information into her mind, increasing her rapidly expanding knowledge. It feels like she suddenly has all of this space left over, impossible to fill, whereas before her mind had already been near its capacity, incapable of further growth.

Right now, the girl is reading through a book that is written in Latin. She had taken half a semester of the language in middle school before switching to Chinese, and yet her mind has been able to absorb knowledge from other translated texts, and she is beginning to be able to read it with some proficiency. To think, she had spent six years learning Chinese, and only just gained the reading comprehension that she now has with Latin, after only a day! Unfortunately, she has been experiencing gruesome headaches every few hours, as her cognitive processes continue to adapt to her new abilities. Abigail considers it to be worth this new competency.

When the bell chimed, she had been laying on a couch sort of thing, reading the Latin book, which detailed various findings in the field of Alchemy by some Roman Alchemist. It's fascinating and, in several instances, surpasses modern sciences. She almost doesn't hear the bell, so entwined in the book. Well, it wouldn't really be possible to miss it, given the volume of it, and the fact that her brain now works on multiple distinguishable levels. As she had read the book, a part of her mind began cataloguing every book in sight, making her a to-read list.

Abigail sights, reluctantly slipping a ribbon to mark her page and leaving the book on the couch before leaving for the courtyard, which she reaches after a brief walk. There is no chance of her getting lost in the building, as a quick exploration earlier had allowed her to form a near-perfect cognitive map of the place. She finds Oasis, Tristan, Jenny, and Piper, all near the fountain in the courtyard. Following their suit, she sits on the ledge of the fountain, already regretting leaving her readings behind.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Desdemona Ariel Forte Character Portrait: Jenny Pilot Character Portrait: Abigail Turner Character Portrait: Oasis Monarae Character Portrait: Piper Baker Character Portrait: Tristan North
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Desa never used to get headaches. When she was a kid, sometimes, but never with alarming frequency or incapacitating strength. Now she wakes up every day with them. She's quite frankly envious of most of the other 'students' at this messed-up-middle-ages school they've been force into. She would love it if her power was useful or if it was weak, like most of theirs. Her's came on full force and just about knocked her off her feet- so strong that it's basically unusable because she can't focus on one and the colors bleed together. Thank heavens this place isn't too populated, she thinks as she returns to her thinking, alone in her room. Blissfully alone. Book people were always Desa's favorite people- the fictional characters, that is, not people who like to read books. Now, that's doubly true because book-people don't have auras and bright distracting colors. Still, her favorite book-writers were yet to be born and copies of future-books were few and far between in the library.

Now my charms are all o'erthrown, And what strength I have’s mine own, Which is most faint, Desa's lips formed around the words as she sounded them out, remembering every time her mother read that book to her and never offered her a translation. Desa remembered the time when she was twelve and started speaking Old English to her language arts teacher and she had told her to 'stop speaking gibberish', causing laughter from the brunette. Desa thought over the quote once more, thinking over how good it would be to be like Prosporo. Be able to give up all this magicky stuff and go back to being normal, even if my own strength is weak, the notion seemed very appealing to Desa- sure, she thought it was really cool that she could do things that were not normal, and yes, she was thankful that she had been saved from the daemons that were overthrowing the world, but it wasn't like she could shoot flame from her fingers or know everything. She just had astoundingly accurate mood-ring eyes, and even though that was freaking amazing, it was painful. Really really painful.

Desa was thinking about asking to be set free like her middle name's namesake before realizing that she wasn't a spirit and she couldn't do that, when a loud ear-splitting bell rang through the halls and Desa covered her ears. With all the magic this place held within its walls, it would apparently kill them to figure out a way to just find a way to tell them class was in session without the use of a bell that Desa knew would probably cause some sort of long-term hearing damage. With a slight groan, Desdemona sat up in the room and stood up, brushing invisible dust off the clothing she had been forced into. At this point in time, it was a really long dress that restricted so much movement that Desa had found a letter opener and cut to her knees, something that made it look somewhat okay due to the clean cut she had somehow managed- something that would amended in her time period. If she needed to run she would, freely. The dress was simple anyway- looked like burlap, fit like burlap, probably was burlap or wool.

Desdemona walked out to the area with the others- Oasis, Tristan, Jenny, Piper, and Abigail, if she remembers the names correctly, and immediately shields her eyes before thinking to herself that she needs to ignore it. She opens her eyes- it doesn't help it any, and everyone is still covered in color, hardly recognizable as which color goes to which person. She goes to sit on the fountain and lays her head on her knees to help just a little.

"I had to get stuck in an age before Tylenol, didn't I?" She wonders aloud before looking up at the people surrounding the fountain again and focusing on their faces, tuning out the color as best she can. It doesn't help- it never does- but it's something to focus on. At least it's bearable now- annoying at best. She's discovered it takes a second or two to get used to the people, but that it dulls down after a few minutes.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Desdemona Ariel Forte Character Portrait: Jenny Pilot Character Portrait: Abigail Turner Character Portrait: Oasis Monarae Character Portrait: Piper Baker Character Portrait: Tristan North
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#, as written by xRoo
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”Best not unleash the beast, who would protect you?”




Oasis felt her eyes settle on a few familiar faces. Desa, Tristan, Jenny, Piper, Abigail…more people. She didn’t bother sitting down at the fountain, for her eyes recognized Piper or Pan as many called her, right away. Oasis looked at Tristan for a moment before she overheard the common about Tyonol. Oh she remembered that drug, used to take it on several occasions. She couldn’t help but allow the corners of her mouth to perk up in silent laughter. The girl did have a point. Oasis carefully unstrapped her arrows and settled them between her feet, keeping her bow over a shoulder. Her lips pressed together, forming a thin line as her eyes shuffled over the faces. Desa seemed to be at war with herself, possible headache or slight annoyance. Oasis couldn’t blame her, Pan was around.

Speaking of which, Pan was busy fiddling with a satchel she kept tied to her waist, as if searching for something. What did she have there? Oasis cleared her throat slightly and shifted her weight from one foot to the next.

“There’s a raccoon running lose inside, I don’t suggest anyone to try to pet it.” Oasis answered, clipping strands of hair behind her ear. “Before I could do anything about it, the thing ran into the kitchens.”






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”I will knock you back to last Tuesday.”



Pan ignored Oasis’ comment as she pulled out a thin, small vial of sorts. She shook it lightly before popping the cork and taking a small whiff of the aroma. She smiled faintly and popped the cork back in. The vial rolled inbetween Piper’s hands as she looked up at Desa, her eyes tracing the girl’s facial expression before she offered the vial to her.

“If you just rub a little bit of this on your temples, it might help the headache.” Piper answered.

Sure it’s not going to kill her, Peter Pan? Oasis had muttered underneath her breath.

“Why don’t you go back to your cage, where you belong?” Pan shot back, her eyes narrowed. “It was an accident, get over it.”

You nearly broke my arm and you went on and on as if you were some sort of child, you Pansy.

Piper narrowed her eyes slightly, before rolling them and fixing her attention back on Desa. “It’s not going to kill you.”

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Desdemona Ariel Forte Character Portrait: Jenny Pilot Character Portrait: Abigail Turner Character Portrait: Oasis Monarae Character Portrait: Piper Baker Character Portrait: Tristan North
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Before Jenny thought she would be sitting there all alone in an awkward fashion, Piper Baker took a set on the ledge of the fountain. She sat away from her, giving the impression that she wasn't quite willing to talk. The girl, Piper, came across as somewhat of a creative person to Jenny. Maybe she was imaginative, or perhaps just handy with whatever she came into contact with. It was just the simple way she presented herself that made it clear that she was unique, original, and free-spirited. Despite barely knowing her, Jenny admired that. Maybe it was just in Jenny's nature to see the good in everyone, or perhaps it was just her form of comparing herself to others, but she saw something special in every one of the people Adamus had chosen to be a part of this "team". And if Jenny was going to be on a team, she knew she would need to be able to work well with others. So, to put things bluntly, she was irrationally forcing herself to like everyone. Maybe it was unhealthy and strange, but she'd have to do it. It was for the future...It was for the world.

"Afternoon" Jenny muttered, making polite small talk to pass the time. She didn't even look at Piper, she just said whatever came out of her mind. "How are things?" Just then, more people entered the courtyard. Tristan North, a well-known name to a well-known face, was first. "Good Afternoon" he greeted the two girls, standing between them on the courtyard's black cobblestone surface. Tristan North was an example that whether you were poor or rich, young or old, intelligent or blatantly ignorant, you and everybody else had an equal chance of survival. According to what she had remembered from her past life, Tristan was a famous musician. She had downloaded a few of his songs to prove it. It was very strange to see someone like him in the mix of those who had survived the demons' siege. Anyways, Jenny found him to be the easiest to talk to among everyone in the group. "Alright," she answered him with a half-smile, "I had to be careful not to get pecked by birds today."

Then came Abigail Turner, who sat on the edge of the fountain in a rather reluctant fashion. No question, the girl was a genius. It was her special power. Jenny had wished for something like that when she and the others had been blessed with abilities by Adamus, but instead, she had attained a completely useless power. Although Jenny thought there was something particularly admirable about Abigail, she couldn't help but feel slightly anxious around her. It was strange...

"I had to get stuck in an age before Tylenol, didn't I?" said a girl named Desdemonda. Unlike the others, Jenny had remembered her name as soon as she learned it, as her striking features made her hard to forget. Oasis, a girl with curly red hair, then appeared as if out of nowhere. Although she had made a comment about a raccoon running loose in the kitchen, it seemed as though it went unheard, as Piper immediately stood up holding a vial of some sort of liquid. Hopefully she hadn't stolen it from one of the fort's potion cabinets or something...

“If you just rub a little bit of this on your temples," Piper said, "it might help the headache.”
Oasis then muttered something under her breath, "Sure it’s not going to kill her, Peter Pan?"
In seconds, some sort of argument ensued over what seemed to be an accident. At least, that's what Piper claimed it to be. It was brazenly clear the the two girls had some sort of bitter rivalry. You could see it in their eyes. Every time they were near each other, it was as though their intensely-colored irises shot sharp, pointy daggers at each other. The relationship between Oasis and Piper was the first sort of antagonism that Jenny had seen in a long time.

Although Piper had already done it, Jenny intended to break the awkwardness and friction that had just occurred. "Sooo..." she started, twiddling her thumbs as she did so, "I don't know what it is or anything, but apparently today is some sort of Holiday of Mages or something. I overheard Madame Vawdrey talking about it when I first woke up this morning. I'm not sure what it's about, but it seems important. Like, so important, it might be the wizard equivalent of Christmas..." She then glanced at each and every one of the people gathered around the fountain. "Does anybody here happen to know more about the subject than I do?"

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Desdemona Ariel Forte Character Portrait: Jenny Pilot Character Portrait: Abigail Turner Character Portrait: Jessica Cartwright Character Portrait: Oasis Monarae Character Portrait: Piper Baker Character Portrait: Darren Conway Character Portrait: Tristan North
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Jessica lay her book down beside her and searched her room for some paper. Inspiration was bubbling about inside her head and, knowing her own mind, she had to write it down at this very moment. The words were perfect and... where was that paper? Jessica dropped to the floor, searching under her bed. She had to have some somewhere, she always did. She stuck her arm under the bed, searching blindly for a scrap of paper. Her hand closed around a ball of paper. She pulled it out and uncrumpled the piece of paper, reading over the few words scrawled onto the page. Her handwriting was horrific. Not for the first time, Jessica pitied the people who had to mark her exams.

Satisfied that the paper was actually useful, Jessica began the search for a pen. Now unless someone had been in her room, it was... she turned about, trying to remember where she had left her pen. She dropped to the floor again, wondering if the pen had ended up beneath the bed too. The bed proved to be a fruitless search. Jessica stood up again, the paper tightly clutched in her hand. She scratched her ear and felt something tucked behind it. Well, what did you know? She spread the paper out, smoothing the wrinkles best she could, and was about to start writing when a bell rang. Jessica's shoulders slumped. While there was no denying Adamus was a great sorcerer, sometimes he had the worst timing ever. She folded the paper back up and left it neatly on the bed.

When she reached the courtyard, she saw that some of the other survivors were already there. Piper and Oasis were bickering again. Jessica had never met two people who seemed to rub each other up the wrong way so quickly. Desdemona seemed to be receiving some kind of medical treatment from Piper. Tristan, who Jessica vaguely recognised when they landed here after listening to her friend wax lyrical about him near nonstop, Jenny and Abigail, who was a total screaming genius, were sat around the fountain. Jessica stayed on the edges of the group, not really feeling like she knew any of them well enough to just strike up a conversation. She didn't have the free spirited, devil may care approach some of the others had. Not that she minded much, she was just quieter than them, that was all.




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Darren was wandering through the woods when the bell rang out. Since arriving here, he had enjoyed walking through the forests, the landscape reminding him of home. Minus the crazy, bloodthirsty demons, of course. Now there was one part of his old life he didn't miss. He was grateful that there were others among the group who were decent in the kitchen. Had he been left to his own devices, Darren would probably have died of starvation or food poisoning by now. Maybe both. His culinary skills were hopeless. Pot Noodles had been the extent of his cooking ability.

Darren wandered casually back to the fort, not feeling the need to hurry himself, despite the fact that Adamus was summoning all of them. He sat on the floor, resting against the wall around the fountain, waiting for one of the guild to arrive. Following Piper and Oasis's bickering, Jenny began to speak, "Sooo...I don't know what it is or anything, but apparently today is some sort of Holiday of Mages or something. I overheard Madame Vawdrey talking about it when I first woke up this morning. I'm not sure what it's about, but it seems important. Like, so important, it might be the wizard equivalent of Christmas..." She looked around the group, "Does anybody here happen to know more about the subject than I do?"

Darren looked to Abigail. He figured if anyone was likely to know something about it, it would be Abigail. Between herself and Jessica, they had a fair bit of the library covered. He'd never even heard of the Holiday of the Mages. Is that what they were now? Mages? Darren gave a small shrug, he could live with being a mage. It sounded pretty cool, "Never heard of it," Darren confessed, filling the silence before someone with a vague idea of what was going on spoke up.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Desdemona Ariel Forte Character Portrait: Jenny Pilot Character Portrait: Abigail Turner Character Portrait: Jessica Cartwright Character Portrait: Oasis Monarae Character Portrait: Piper Baker Character Portrait: Darren Conway Character Portrait: Tristan North
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Abigail leans back slightly on the fountain and touches the surface of her finger pads against the moving water, wishing it were still. In all honesty, the girl is not much of a swimmer, but she does like the look and feel of placid water- so long as it is shallow enough to be safe. The feeling of the very surface of still water on her fingers is, and always has been, inexplicably soothing to the young woman. When she was younger, the girl had often been entranced by such little things- like the feeling of rolling the fingerpads of either hand together until it feels as though they are both touching separate, frictionless surfaces. It might seem like a strange thing for someone who often comes across as so logical to be so enamored with, but the strangeness does very little to change the fact of it. She must be allowed her littler pleasures, at the very least. They help her to clear a mind which is now constantly moving and working. Even now, while she tries to focus on the water, another part of her mind notices Desdemonda nearing, and her expression of trying to concentrate- probably with the intent of blocking out all of the auras. Abigail feels that she, on some level, can relate with the sudden overload.

Headache? Clematis, Cottonwood, Lavender, she remembers notes she'd read in one of the books. Of course, she doesn't know whether they actually work- just remembers them being listed as helpful for headaches. Remembering everything is not all there is to knowledge, after all. But she knew that even before she was gifted with a nearly unsurpassed mind. Anyway, Piper, whom Abigail remembers vaguely has knowledge of medicinal herbs, provides Desa with a salve for her headaches.

Maybe I should ask for one. Then again, I doubt mine can be cured by any herb that isn't used for things like opium. I need to clear my mind, she muses, internal conversations playing out as they have done with increasing frequency lately. The girl finds her fellow 30 interesting, but knows that some of her thought processes, though not this one specifically, will only lead to confusion. Of course, she can't be completely stopped from occasionally speaking her mind. Intelligence has not proved to be a complete cure for bluntness. The not-so-subtle aggression between Piper and Oasis, for example, is hard to remain silent about.

"Must you argue like angry siblings?" she asks, regretting it immediately. That was supposed to be only said in her head, but as was mentioned, sometimes things slip through. She doesn't feel the need to take it back, anyway. She means what she said- their argument strikes her as somewhat childish.

The young woman is happy to be distracted by Jenny, asking if anyone knows what the Holiday of Mages is. Abigail knows, of course- she'd seen it mentioned in her reading a few times, and overheard Delphine speaking with Adamus about it. Feeling eyes on her, the girl speaks up on the matter, "It's supposedly the day on which the five Mages gifted magic onto humankind. It's almost sacred for magic users- not that we're really the approved sort of magic users. There were things in the books about that, as well," Abigail trails off, frowning.


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Tristan raises his eyebrows, mouth curving into an amused smile at Jenny's response about being pecked out with birds. "They don't get along with you, do they? Were you near a nest or something? They would be more overprotective now- it's nesting season, isn't it?" of course, he knows nothing about the seasonal habits of birds and whatnot, it just sounds right. Summer equates baby birds- or maybe Spring? Regardless, he is keeping the conversation going. Likely, Oasis knows, being the official animal guru as of a few days ago, so he turns to ask her, still smiling. Before a word escapes, though, Desa arrives and begins to speak about a headache and wishing she had a tylenol. Seems he's not the only one missing certain luxuries of modern days- but, of course, he knew that already. Still, her complaint brings back that amused smiles, his eyes crinkling slightly.

"Ouch. I'm sure someone can help," he responds, and sure enough, Pan begins searching through her satchel for something. Meanwhile, Oasis comments on a raccoon running into the kitchen. His response is a shrug- he grew up in a town south of nowhere, and is used to animals having dominion over the place. Not that he was ever the sort who would go off trying to save or deal with all of them, of course. Even when no one else hung out with him, Tristan was more of a people person than anything else. He had more things to focus on than whether there was another snake slithering through the backyard.

The situation becomes a bit more tense rapidly, when Oasis and Pan seem to shoot lightning bolts at eachother- if looks could kill. The two have made it clear that they do not like each other from day one, and that has yet to lighten up even a little bit. Hopefully they'll reconcile soon, or else the tensions might boil over into a full blown fight, and he doubts that such a thing would be pretty. Honestly, Abigail's quip about them arguing does little to improve the situation, so he is glad when Jenny speaks up again about some 'Holiday of Mages' thing she had heard about. It piques his interest- and not just because the holiday part conjures images of parties and food. Tristan wonders what Medieval parties are like- balls, perhaps? Festivals?

Jessica and Darren have arrived by now, and Tristan greets them both with a smile. At Jenny's inquiry about any further information he, along with Darren, looks at Abigail. Knowing things is kind of her strong suit, after all. She offers up a vague sort of explanation, before dropping off with an even more cryptic comment. "'Approved' sort?"

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Desdemona Ariel Forte Character Portrait: Jenny Pilot Character Portrait: Abigail Turner Character Portrait: Jessica Cartwright Character Portrait: Oasis Monarae Character Portrait: Piper Baker Character Portrait: Alexander Andersson Character Portrait: Darren Conway Character Portrait: Tristan North Character Portrait: Kara Darrow Character Portrait: Noah Richards
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Noah had been exploring the fort when the bell had rang out. The fort was actually quite beautiful, the fact that he was in this time period, to be able to be walking through a fort that was probably gone from the time he originated, was just amazing. He had been enjoying his time throughout the halls of the fort, tracing his fingers against the cobblestone walls when the noise of the bell pierced his ears causing him yelp slightly.

"Stupid magic bell or whatever it is," Noah grumbled to himself as he began to make his way to the fort's courtyard. Once he made it outside he felt the cool refreshing breeze of the outside. He loved this kind of weather, it was a perfect equilibrium with hot and cold, absolutely amazing.

He noticed many of his fellow students seating themselves by the fountain of the courtyard. He smiled, gravitating to the group, there seemed to be something of a squabble occurring between two of the female students but he chose not to put himself in the middle of it, knowing it to be a bad idea. Abigail on the other hand, didn't seem to get the memo, being quite blunt with her annoyance, causing him to smirk slightly.

The air was cleared a bit once Jenny began speaking. "...Like, so important, it might be the wizard equivalent of Christmas..." Noah chuckled slightly as he overheard Jenny speak of the Holiday of Mages. "Sounds like a pretty unimaginative name for a holiday if you ask me," Noah said, standing by the rest of the group. Abigail soon responded, telling them what was celebrated during the Holiday of Mages, before giving a vague sentiment and frowning slightly. "Well aren't we feeling quite enigmatic today?" He said with a slight laugh before Tristan attempted to have her give more insight.

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Kara had chosen to remain on the premises of the fort unlike many of the other thirty and do as she was told. She would rather remain alive within the safety of the fort until it was time to really face danger instead of getting killed before they even met their true adversaries, the demons. It seemed as though some of the others didn't share her same desires, choosing to roam into the woods and out of the vicinity of the fort, despite the efforts of the man who put himself on the line to save them. Granted, she was bored out of her mind sitting still on the ground outside with practically no idea what to do, and she did wish to see what it was like in the forest outside of the fort...perhaps she'd go in the library later and enjoy her time there?

Kara had closed her eyes as a surge of wind pushed towards her, her orange hair flowing in the breeze behind her with some of the attire from the time period she had adopted. Her clothing style had quickly assimilated to that of the 1250's now that she was living in the time, she'd rather have herself acquainted and ready with the clothes than be uncomfortable in them during a fight and die wearing them. The thought made her break her grim complexion for a moment and smirk, but a solemn look adorned her face once again after a moments passing.

When the bell rung she was quickly on her feet, knowing to go to the courtyard of the fort. She had moved swiftly, not breaking her speedy pace until she arrived. Being as close to the area as she was she managed to take a seat on the ground until others began piling in, closing in by the fountain. She was glad she was away from them, having taken note of the petty argument Oasis and Piper were getting into. What they were doing was rather unnecessary, and quite childish in her opinion. Why openly quarrel and personally attack each other in the situation that they were in? And for what? Some foolish thing that they'd probably forget in due time?

Speaking of childish and petty, Kara scowled slightly once Noah arrived, out of everyone he seemed to be taking everything the least seriously and it had bothered her, but not enough that she'd make an open scene as the other two girls had. What was personal would remain personal, matters were professional now and they had to work together and learn in order to beat the demons, and that's what she intended to do. She closed her eyes and continued sitting on the ground with her legs crossed as the others held conversation amongst each other, deciding she'd wait in silence until the members of the Guild arrived.

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Alexander had been fast asleep and within his bed, caught up within a deep sleep, despite it probably being some time in the early afternoon. He was awfully tired, but then again, when was he not? The tension of being transported back several hundred years had been getting to him, and he didn't think he was up to the task of defeating a demon army that had killed so many people in his present. But then again, deciding to sleep and lounge around all day instead of actually working hard to be able to defeat the demons was quite counterproductive on his part.

Once the loud noise of the gong reverberated throughout the fort and even further outside of it Alexander had jolted awake, the shock of the loud noise causing him to topple out of bed and onto the floor. Alex let out a long moan while lying on the floor face first, wondering why they had to ring the gong so loudly instead of...well...something else! Alex was far too tired to think of what else they could have done at the moment.

"Just a few more minutes..." Alex moaned, closing his eyes once again as he went back to sleep, sprawled across the floor.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Desdemona Ariel Forte Character Portrait: Jenny Pilot Character Portrait: Abigail Turner Character Portrait: Jessica Cartwright Character Portrait: Oasis Monarae Character Portrait: Piper Baker Character Portrait: Jordan Levy Character Portrait: Alexander Andersson Character Portrait: Darren Conway Character Portrait: Tristan North Character Portrait: Kara Darrow Character Portrait: Noah Richards
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#, as written by tigerz
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The boy quietly entered his house using the garage door. He'd hoped to find his mother passed out on the coach. He knew he was supposed to wait for his sister at his friends house like usual but this time his friend's mother was persistent in not letting him stay this time. The boy took off his shoes and tried to tip toe over to his room across the hall. Unfortunately she was up and went straight towards him. The boy tried to run to his room but was too late. His mother grabbed a hold of the back of his shirt and pulled him toward her. He cried out for his sister who wasn't there. His mother raised a hand and said something who couldn't quite understand. All he could smell was the alcohol in her breath...

Jordan stirred in her sleep. She wanted more than anything to escape this nightmare but it kept pulling her back in. Jordan enjoyed the few moments of darkness in her sleep. Anything was better than here repetitive nightmare that was now pulling her right back into it. Jordan mumbled a sort of groan as she trembled in her sleep.

Like the many times before, Jordan watched herself make it just in time to save her brother. She pulled her mother away and let herself be used as the punching bag. Jordan was knocked to the ground and hit across the back with the all too familiar leather belt that used to belong to her father. Jordan could hear her brother screaming at their mother to stop. Their mother turned to him and launched forward...

The ringing of the gong finally helped Jordan escape her horrid dream. She practically jumped out of bed with sweat dripping down the back of her neck. Jordan sat at the edge of the bed with her hands on her head and let out a long deep sigh. She'd been having this same horrendous nightmare since they've arrived. It wasn't a memory of the other times her mother lashed out. Rather, it was of the day the demons came. Jordan couldn't help but wonder what had happened to him because of her absence. She knew she would've been late to pick him up. Did he go home? Was he able to stay with his friend and be safe for a few moments longer?

Glass breaking, slurred yells, leather cracking...


Jordan pushed the thoughts aside and composed herself before going to the courtyard. All she knew was they were to report there and that today was some sort of holiday. Jordan didn't really pay attention though. All that mattered at this point was her training. She found it odd that it was going to be spent celebrating something she didn't understand. Then again, she never really understood the point of most holidays.

Jordan entered the courtyard and found the nearly everyone was already there. Jordan decide to just find a place to sit and stay there quietly. She had heard bits and pieces of the conversations the others were having but didn't care much of it. All she wanted right now was to be left alone right now. Though when she looked around the room she found that wouldn't be possible. It seemed that most of whom were there would end uo bothering her sooner or later. It wasn't that Jordan hated them, she just doesn't have room for friends.

The smell of alcohol in the air...


Though one girl in particular did manage to catch Jordan's attention while she was sitting in her lonely area. She believed the girls name to be Jenny. They talked briefly. Well, more like she talked and tried to be friendly and Jordan just kind of stood there and seemed to make the girl uncomfortable. Jordan sort of smirked in her direction as she remembered the encounter. She wondered how persistent Jenny would turn out being.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Delphine Vawdrey Character Portrait: Adamus Locke Character Portrait: Desdemona Ariel Forte Character Portrait: Jenny Pilot Character Portrait: Abigail Turner Character Portrait: Jessica Cartwright Character Portrait: Oasis Monarae Character Portrait: Piper Baker Character Portrait: Jordan Levy Character Portrait: Alexander Andersson Character Portrait: Isaac Gil-Ruiz Character Portrait: Darren Conway Character Portrait: Tristan North Character Portrait: Kara Darrow Character Portrait: Noah Richards
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With Adamus Locke behind her, Delphine Vawdrey gracefully processed down the fort's outdoor staircase, and into the courtyard. "Dee," her partner in crime started, "Are you going to continue on with the orientation even if all thirty of them aren't present?" She turned around for a second, and gave him a hard glare. "Of course. I cannot force them to come. It is their problem if they would rather disregard our resourceful information and have themselves slaughtered by demons in two days tops. If they do not wish to see their future again, however pleasant it may be compared to this time, then so be it."

She sauntered her way up to the fountain, reaching the students' line of sight. Delphine seemed to gaze at each and every one of them with petrifyingly sepia-colored eyes. To her surprise, quite a few of the thirty showed up. Not all of them, unfortunately, but a decent amount. She planted her feet about six feet away from them, while Adamus took his stance behind her. He crossed his arms behind his back in a military-like fashion, and watched the present scene unfold.

"Good afternoon, newly recruited," she began, her voice sounding firm, deep, and robust. Whenever she spoke, silence was always sure to follow. She had used the term "newly recruited" instead of "students" because she knew the fort was not a school. Delphine didn't feel like it was her job to teach these young adults. However, they were obligated to learn. "I am sure that most of you have already acquainted yourself with the fort's interior and exterior. Now that you know the basis of it, I will ask it of each of you to respect it as if it were your own.”

She paced back and forth. The woman stared ahead towards the forest and the fort rather than at the young adults who watched her from a perpendicular spectrum. Adamus crossed his arms, and at times, turned his gaze downwards towards the grayish-black stone tiles of the courtyard. “I will now state how things are going to work around here.” Delphine stated boldly, “I advise you to keep these standards in your minds at all times. In other words, break any of these rules, and it is your quandary, not mine. I am only here to ensure all of you are safe, as Adamus has instructed me.” She turned back to face the man, who gave a small nod, and then placed her arms in front of her, and gripped them tightly.

“First and foremost, this fort is not a school, nor is it a college or institution. It was never established as a school, and it will not be referred to as a school. Our ancestors have simply referred to it as a “headquarters” of sorts, a safe-haven where not only magic-users are protected, but are given tools to aid them in a secretive and prejudiced world.”Delphine then gazed sharply at Jenny as she spoke, at least, that was what the young French girl was getting from her stern, heart-stopping glare. “When I say a prejudiced world, I am referring to the many peoples in this area who are unfamiliar with magic. There are people who do not believe in it, and who understand it to be a vile craft. It is because of these peoples’ views that I ask each of you to be cautious to an extreme degree. You do not want to reveal your identities to them, as they may not be so willing to accept you…”

Adamus then quickly stepped up to speak, “In addition to what Dee has just said, I’d like to add that every little thing you do in this past will add up in the future.” Delphine strongly held her gaze on Adamus. She preferred the title “Madame Vawdrey” in front of those who were below her in rank, and he knew it better than anyone else. “If you aren’t careful, the eradication of the demons may not be the only thing you change in the future. It is because of this that we ask you tell us where you are going. We don’t mean to invade your privacy or personal boundaries, but we just want to complete this mission as subtly as possible.” He then stepped back, letting Delphine take the stage once again.

She cleared her throat, and then spoke clearly, “Now, as for what you will be learning here and how you will be learning it, we have set up a structure for all of you so that you will learn to harness your powers, as well as other skills that may come in handy as we all try to find and rid of these demons once and for all. Including Adamus, there are six instructors who will be teaching you a certain subject of magic. Five of them will be mentors for a specific class of magic. When I mean class, I mean what certain category your special power belongs to. I am sure Adamus has already explained, but if you need help figuring out your class of magic, you can see me after this orientation, and I will further explain it to you.”

Delphine then moved farther back, and started to project her voice. “Because the world and the future is at stake here, in addition to whatever special power you may have, we are going to require that everyone practice in at least one of the magic sub-sets per day. There is alchemy, taught by myself, runes translation, enchanting, transfiguration, which involves shape-shifting and such, and finally, summoning, like so….” In a split second, Delphine had drawn a bow from behind her back. She turned around, revealing a quiver of arrows strapped around her right shoulder. Clearly, the items hadn’t been in her possession before the orientation. If one had inspected the situation closely, they would notice that Delphine had supernaturally taken Oasis’s bow, as it was missing from the red-haired girl’s possession. The quiver of arrows, however, was a mystery. Delphine moved slightly closer to the targets that were set up far away from the fountain, and continued to speak.

“In addition to using magic, we would also like you to train in combat, as it is useful to know, and valuable in certain situations you may encounter.” She carefully gripped just below the tip of an arrow, and with her fingers clenched in a fist, she lighted it on fire. “There will be chests set up around the courtyard that will be filled with a variety of weapons, such as bows, maces, flails, swords, and knives. You may train with them as much as you like, but please do not destroy them too much. Some are very ancient…” She strung the flaming arrow into the bow, pulled the string, and aimed for the target. Her stance as an archer was impeccable. You could tell just by her mannerisms that she was extraordinarily professional in the art of archery. “As for practicing, you may do it alone or with others. There is really nothing to say about the subject of the matter, HOWEVER, if someone is irrationally fighting another for purposes other than training, there WILL be consequences…” She let go of the string, sending the arrow flying through the air. With extreme speed, it hit the target right in the center. The flame was then put out, leaving a distinct black mark right on the target’s bullseye.

The bow then disappeared out of Delphine’s hands, and found itself perched right next to Oasis’s feet. The tan-skinned woman sauntered back up to the young adults. “Now, tonight is the Holiday of Mages, and so normal protocol will not commence until tomorrow. We ask each of you to celebrate the holiday with us, as it is a traditional part of our culture. Of course, just entering under the wing and protection of the Five Mages, it would be incredibly wise to make an outstanding first impression on them. You may not believe so…but they are always watching over us.” She turned her head towards Adamus. He gave a quick nod again, the same expression plastered upon his ancient-looking face. “Formal attire appropriate for the holiday can be found in each of your rooms. While you all get ready, Adamus and I will be decorating the courtyard. The Holiday of the Mages is a festivity that you certainly do not want to miss out on…”

Delphine took a moment to let the last sentence sink in, and then spoke louder than before, “That is the end of the meeting. If you have any questions you pray need answered, I will be staying put for a few more minutes in order to quell your curiosity. As for the rest of you, I encourage you to make haste and get ready for the feast we will be having in a few short moments. Thank you all for your participation.”

Everything seemed quiet at first, but then the ball got rolling again. As Adamus gave a gentle smile upon the group, Jenny got up from the edge of the fountain, and made her way towards the staircase that would bring her towards the inside of the fort. She had no questions, as she remembered the talk Adamus had given the group about the different classes of magic. Although the orientation had been simple and to-the-point, Jenny couldn’t help but feel a little overwhelmed. Hopefully she’d get to drown her anxiety in plentiful food, as the Holiday of the Mages sounded absolutely exquisite….

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Delphine Vawdrey Character Portrait: Adamus Locke Character Portrait: Desdemona Ariel Forte Character Portrait: Jenny Pilot Character Portrait: Abigail Turner Character Portrait: Jessica Cartwright Character Portrait: Oasis Monarae Character Portrait: Piper Baker Character Portrait: Jordan Levy Character Portrait: Alexander Andersson Character Portrait: Isaac Gil-Ruiz Character Portrait: Darren Conway Character Portrait: Tristan North Character Portrait: Kara Darrow Character Portrait: Noah Richards
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Jessica listened to Madame Vawdrey's words, barely daring to move. The woman had an aura about her that demanded the absolute respect of everyone around her. Even from this distance, Jessica could see that Madame Vawdreys' eyes had a steely determination about them, that she would succeed in anything she did, whatever it took. This was not a woman to suffer fools gladly. Jessica liked that.

Jessica looked around the group who had gathered. As was always the case, she knew some of them better than others, and some were noticeable by their absence. Alexander hadn't turned up, Jessica noticed with a small smile. No doubt he had fallen asleep somewhere. Now, Jessica was one who liked her sleep, but compared to Alex, she felt like she barely slept. When Madame Vawdrey had finished speaking, and she was sure Adamus had nothing more to add, Jessica quietly took her leave of the group. She wandered through the fort, wondering where Alex had fallen asleep this time. She figured that the most logical place to start would be his room. There was a bed there after all. She backtracked on herself, trying to remember where Alex's dorm was. When she remembered, she started walking with some kind of purpose in her steps, until she came to his room. Jessica pressed her ear to the door. Hearing next to nothing through it, she knocked on the door, "Alex? You in there?" She asked, giving her voice just enough volume to carry through the door without startling him too much, she hoped.




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Darren felt his stomach sink at the mention of 'formal attire'. While he doubted that the suits that usually constituted formal attire weren't around yet, the prospect of dressing up didn't really appeal to him. He had never really understood why his cousins, both of them girls, had gone crazy for a new dress every Christmas, that they would wear to eat dinner in, and probably wear once or twice again before forgetting about the dress and demanding a new one for next Christmas, or birthday, or some other celebration he hadn't noticed. His Christmas attire was a clean t-shirt and some comfortable trousers that has a little give in the waist. Nothing fancy, just practical and comfortable. Sometimes, it was pajamas at the dinner table. He never saw the point.

Not really being an expert on historical fashion, Darren had no idea what constituted formal wear in this period. Historical dramas had completely passed him by. His knowledge of fashion of the past was corsets. That was it. There were corsets involved somewhere along the line, though he doubted he would be required to wear one. No, no corsets for him. Darren pushed himself up from the ground, dusting his jeans down when he was up. Realising he had absolutely nothing to do other that get changed, he sat himself down on the fountain wall, wanting to be a part of the group for just a little while longer.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Delphine Vawdrey Character Portrait: Desdemona Ariel Forte Character Portrait: Jenny Pilot Character Portrait: Abigail Turner Character Portrait: Jessica Cartwright Character Portrait: Oasis Monarae Character Portrait: Piper Baker Character Portrait: Jordan Levy Character Portrait: Alexander Andersson Character Portrait: Isaac Gil-Ruiz Character Portrait: Darren Conway Character Portrait: Tristan North Character Portrait: Kara Darrow Character Portrait: Noah Richards
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Abigail raises her eyebrow at Noah at his comment on her enigmatic choice of words. Tristan goes on to question her choice of words as well, but a lingering frown makes it clear that she isn't altogether too keen on lending further insight on her wordings. Still, never the sort to not answer a question asked, she responds, albeit in a voice nearly drowned out by continuing conversation: "The preferred mages are taught, or born, but not instantly made." She glances around briefly, but is quite content to have been overlooked for small conversation, though she is hardly the sort to be naturally inclined towards such chatting. This is especially true now, as her mind is easily moved away from that which she cares little for- like one's opinion of the weather, or anything along those lines.

Thinking on the topic of the creation of mages, Abigail can sympathize with those who would disapprove of people given gifts instantly. After all, were she back at the university, life as it had once been, and someone suddenly waltzed in with an incredibly proficiency for mathematics or science that they hadn't had the previous day, and showed no evidence of working for, how could she help but be irritated? Not that this is the same situation entirely, of course, for those who will teach them are still many years ahead of the skills of the 30, including the one who looks as though she might actually be younger than several of the members here. Still, the idea does linger in her mind, that they are a somewhat irritating sort due to the foundations of their magical abilities, though not due to individual personality issues. Well. Some of them do strike her as somewhat aggravating, but that's unimportant.

By this point, a few more people had entered the courtyard, though they made no attempt to engage themselves in the conversation, instead opting to watch silently. She studies their faces from the corner of her eye, before becoming concerned that she might look rather creepy doing so and looking away once more. Piper begins talking, then, asking people how they've slept and talking about her most recent herbal concoctions. Abigail is far more interested in hearing about her use of various herbs, but the girl comments something about her loquaciousness and fades out a bit.

Conversation is cut short as soon as Adamus and Delphine arrive, presumably to debrief the group on what's going on. Based on the look that Delphine gives Adamus when he addresses her as 'Dee' in front of the students, she would rather be called more formally. Abigail makes a note to address her as Madame Vawdrey when speaking within earshot of the woman, who can certainly do more damage than Abigail can. Already, the girl begins to doubt that she will be much a part of the vanguard going against the monsters, especially as is, for she can't really yield a weapon at the moment. Perhaps she will have a seat planning the strategy, but it seems Adamus will be doing most of that. There must be some point to her, though. Abigail hopes so, anyway.

When the debriefing is over, Abigail has no questions- none that will not be answered over time, anyway. She is excited despite herself, for the girl has always had a place in her heart for old things, and being able to celebrate a holiday in the genuine fashion is a somewhat exciting prospect for her, though it appears that not everyone shares this opinion. She notices Darren deliberately staying in the area of the rest of the group, but thinks nothing of it. People are pack animals of sorts, after all, even those raised in highly individualistic cultures. She, personally, continues on towards her personal room to find what has been left for her.


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Tristan doesn't seem to notice Abigail's response, honestly having already moved along to the next subject at hand. He hasn't always had the longest of attention spans, something well known by several of the people who were employed by him- his manager, manager's assistant, driver of the tour bus, etc. He may have been able to work towards his musical career, but that was an exception rather than a rule in his life. He is constantly changing various little things, even if the larger picture continues to remain intact. He gives a smile to ever person who enters the courtyard individually, though his gaze continues to dance from person to person to person. He is far more fond of looking at people than at the various details of this great structure. He has always been like that- more focused on people than items, on social spheres than material wealth. Perhaps this is part of his social competency.

Eventually, further conversation comes about, as Piper inquires after how the rest of the party had slept last night. Tristan, personally, had slept like a baby. He's always been a very heavy sleeper, leading to constant tardies back in his school days. It was something which had bothered his parents very much, in fact. "No need for those, thank you," the young man responds cheerily, remaining somewhat polite in the statement. "I sleep like a log, regardless of where I am doing so, as it happens," he adds, running a hand through his hair, as is his tendency to do with little to no reason. It's a very meaningless habit, but then, most of his are.

When Piper states, seeming concerned, that she is talking too much, he raises his eyebrow before grinning, "Well, if that's true, you're in great company." He refers partially to himself, of course, though many assorted figures might be inserted into this vague 'company'. It is clear that no one is feeling particularly talkative, so he is glad when two of their instructors enter, the woman reminding him more of a stern schoolteacher than the man, despite her prettiness and youth.

They go through a spiel about how people should conduct themselves, and briefly touching on how their education is to go about. He is more interested in their physical training, being in rather good shape himself- he must, to keep the slightly more shallow fans' attention riveted onto him and his career. Given his gifts for sleight of hand, as well, his first thought is that he'd do best with something lightweight and close-combat, like a dagger or something along those lines.

When they finish off, he is quite ready to go, admittedly somewhat curious as to what this 'formal attire' will look like. Regardless, he is quite interested in the mentioned food, only just realizing how hungry he is. So, he walks, taking care to remain somewhat near others as he does so. Someone must have a room near his, after all.