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Bones Burroughs

The Kid

0 · 332 views · located in The Academy of Unseen Arts

a character in “Guardians of Hell”, as played by Chompers

Description

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n i c k n a m e s x // x Bones | everyone , Win | father

a g e x // xtwenty-three

g e n d e r x // xmale

s e x u a l i t y x // xheterosexual

o r i g i n x // xmontreal, canada

r o l e x // xwarlock






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D E C O R U S


h e i g h t x // x5'10

w e i g h t x // x147 lbs

h a i r x // xFlat black

e y e s x // xCrisp blue

o d d i t i e s x // xBones has a whole scattering of tattoos across both arms, left leg and chest. Some are coloured, some are black and white, and none of them match each other. He got his first one at 14 in an act of rebellion and since then his decision making when it comes to putting permanent marks on his body hasn't gotten any better. None of his tattoos look particularly impressive, and most look like he got them for free from someone who needed a model to practice on before actually charging someone for their services.

a p p e a r a n c e x // xAs a child born premature and sick, it follows that Bones is small. He's shorter than average as his frame is scrawny. All lean and lanky, which doesn't make him impressive or scary when he's angry and all up in your face. Though it does add to his insecurities.

However his face doesn't match his frame, his glare is harder than it has any right to be. The strong, stubborn line of his jaw when he's annoyed tells you that, he might be scrappy but he is a fighter, and he won't roll over and let you take what is his. He's got a sprinkling of scars here and there collected from dumb decisions, and his clothes tend to leans towards teenage runaway more than anything else. He never much had a care for fashion.






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N O T A
xxxxxxxxxxxxx f a m i l i a r xx \ f ə - ˈ m i l - y ə r \ x


c a l i x x // x a tortoise shell cat, that looks more like roadkill than anything that should be walking around. Small, scrappy, missing an ear and with scars marring most her fur. She hisses at everyone and everything. Bones has a soft spot for her.


F O R T I T U D O
xxxxxxxxxxxxx s t r e n g t h xx \ ˈ s t r e ŋ ( k ) t h \ x


l i n e a g e x // x Bones is from a long and impressive witch line, not only does this gain him prestige among witches and warlocks, but he is blessed with the immense power and capabilities of his bloodline.

s t u d y x // x when socialisation and sports are out of the question there isn't much left. Especially growing up with his father. If he couldn't practice spells much, he would spend his time learning the theory of them, everyday for most his childhood.

d a u n t l e s s x // x Bones is long past letting his physical limitations rule him. He won't be intimidating by larger bodies or talked down to by anyone more powerful than him, regardless of if it gets him killed.



I N F I R M I T A T E
xxxxxxxxxxxxx w e a k n e s s xx \ ˈ w ē k - n ə s \ x


s e n s i t i v e x // x he is overly sensitive to negative comments, always taking them in the worst direction. His emotional sate is far to easily influenced into the extremes.

p h y s i c a l i t y x // x a stunted growth when he was young has left him physically smaller than most men his age. His shoulders are broad like his fathers, but on his short, lanky frame they don't mean much. While he's not afraid of physical fights and will do his best, it's clear his scrappy fighting style puts him at a clear disadvantage. You won't be turning to him to help open the pickle jar.

s t a m i n a x // x whilst his body has grown, and his immune system developed, he is still more susceptible to illness than most. Prolonged exercise and sport are still off the table, and he will get run down easily. Magic practice is still something that tires him more than his peers, making him unable to truly utilise the immense power of his ancestors.



M E T U M
xxxxxxxxxxxxx f e a r xx \ ˈ f i r \ x


p i t y x // x Bones doesn't want pity, he was offered enough of it in his youth. He never again wants to be associated with weakness, so save your pity for someone actually needing it.

i l l n e s s x // x his immune system will never be the same as his peers, and one bad illness could see him into worse health than ever. And he never wants to go back to that place, where he was unable to take part in life and fight for himself. Nothing could be worse than being sick and weak again.

t h u n d e r x // x he has always had a fear of thunder, it's irrational, and another weakness he will never reveal to anyone. The booming nature of it scares the wits out of him.





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P E R S O N A L I T A T E
xxxxxxxxxxxxx defensive xx closed off xx sensitive xx rebellious x


As a boy, Bones learnt that the greatest sin of all is weakness. Which explains a lot about the man he is growing into. Growing up sickly and weak, judged as less than by his father, has left him with a list of insecurities a mile long. Insecurities that he considers a weakness, which is perhaps why he’s more sensitive than most. He doesn't just have a chip on his shoulder, he got a whole bag of them. All insults towards him will receive a reaction, and he tends to view even harmless neutral comments in a negative light. He is incredibly defensive, always feeling like he’s on the back foot and everyone is against him, so he lashes out at people, making snarky comments or just getting physical with them. He has an incredibly poor control over his emotions and anger. Always getting angry and bitter over what most people would consider as nothing.

Another weakness that his father instilled him was showing emotions. So something as natural as showing concern for his friends is something he actively tries to hide. His gut instinct is to shut down all signs of him caring for people. In the same way that he hides his fears and sadness behind anger or snark. Revealing any of these weak emotions is something that Bones really struggles with, he thinks if he shows someone that he cares that they’ll view him as weak. The same with revealing his insecurities, the worst thing he can imagine is being on the receiving end of sympathy. So he lashes out, preferring people dislike him than give him pity.

Bones has a tendency to hero-worship. His respect is hard earned, but once you have it, he will put you up on a pedestal whether you like it or not. Always looking up to you and ready to follow you anywhere, if you give the word. He’s not going to endlessly drown you in compliments but he won’t take anyone talking down to you, and will defend you until the end of his days. More than him ignoring your imperfections, Bones will simply fail to see them at all, even if others point them out.

For Bones, somewhere in his head, rules and authority will always be wrapped up in his complicated feelings of his father. And given their less than stellar relationship, it’s no wonder that he has such a poor relationship with following rules. The idea of actually doing what someone orders him to do makes his blood curl. When ordered to do one thing, instincts will drive Bones in the opposite direction.






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H I S T O R I A R U M


Bones' father, a strict prideful man, is a well known and widely respected high priest of his own Coven located in Montreal, Canada. Bones' great grandmother was also the founder of the Sherbrooke Seminary of the Unseen Arts, founded one hundred and eighty years ago. The Burroughs are a long and impressive bloodline, firmly placed as leaders of the Montreal Coven. So why knowing that did Bones choose to travel overseas to gain an education in the witch arts?

Bones was born one month and three weeks premature, his mother's labor was brought on by a car accident that claimed her life. A death his father couldn't prevent despite his vast power. And that should have been the end of Bones' life too, more fetus than baby, requiring tubes to feed and breathe. They said he wouldn't last the night. Then they said he wouldn't last the week. But he did, Bones' kept on living through all the surgeries to fix his underdeveloped organs, much to the chagrin of his father.

Bones' poor start to life trailed him through his childhood with stunted growth and an extremely low immunity. The heir to the Burroughs's name and lineage was a sickly looking child who couldn't step outside the front doors without catching pneumonia. It made his father equal parts furious and distant. Bones was kept apart from the coven for his health, but it was also an act of a father hiding his weak child. A child who's body couldn't even stand up to practicing magic, just simple spells would take too great a toll on Bones' body, wasting the power of the Burroughs's lineage in his father's mind. At best, his proud father was disinterested him, at worst, full of disdain.

Bones did grow older though, and his body caught up with him.His immunity eventually grew stronger, a bad cold could still catch up with him when he runs himself down, but the sickly child of his youth is no longer. Unfortunately, his relationship with his father didn't recover over time. His strong family heritage has made him a very capable and talented warlock, which made his father finally take an interest in his son but it was too late. Bones would not be used as a prop for his father to show off only when it pleased him, as shown by the fuss his father made of his Dark Baptism, which took place when he was 16, the usual age in Canada.

So after his Dark Baptism he left, packing his bags and heading to New York city. He's settled in with the New York Coven and is attending the New York Academy of the Unseen Arts, his family lineage all but guaranteeing him acceptance. Studiously ignoring his father's monthly letters that demand his return. He's been with the academy for seven years now, but because of his younger age than all American witches he tends to be looked down on as just a kid. Which he has a big chip on his shoulder about.






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N A M E x L A S T N A M E
"A brief quote in your character's voice about the other character."


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xdislike xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx like

Put a brief paragraph description about the relationship between the characters, why it is the way it is, etc. Copy and paste this section for each character as you make relations. You don't have to keep this section, if you'd rather not have relations on your CS or public. You can remove the images to the left if you'd rather just have the names. But if you keep the image it is the same size as the character images on the intro, so you can just copy those instead of having to find new if you'd prefer.


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N A M E x L A S T N A M E
"A brief quote in your character's voice about the other character."


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xdislike xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx like

Put a brief paragraph description about the relationship between the characters, why it is the way it is, etc. Copy and paste this section for each character as you make relations. You don't have to keep this section, if you'd rather not have relations on your CS or public. You can remove the images to the left if you'd rather just have the names. But if you keep the image it is the same size as the character images on the intro, so you can just copy those instead of having to find new if you'd prefer.


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N A M E x L A S T N A M E
"A brief quote in your character's voice about the other character."


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xdislike xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx like

Put a brief paragraph description about the relationship between the characters, why it is the way it is, etc. Copy and paste this section for each character as you make relations. You don't have to keep this section, if you'd rather not have relations on your CS or public. You can remove the images to the left if you'd rather just have the names. But if you keep the image it is the same size as the character images on the intro, so you can just copy those instead of having to find new if you'd prefer.





h e x c o d e x // x #167f40 x // x f a c e c l a i m x // x ash stymest x // x c r e a t o r x // x Chompers x // x c s x // x mjolnir

So begins...

Bones Burroughs's Story

Characters Present

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

0.00 INK

#, as written by mjolnir
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dorian fawkes
the charlatanx|xoutfitx|x#8BA3A6

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

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

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

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

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

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

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




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tamsin reid
cursed witchx|xoutfitx|x#000000

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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





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roman black
the lecherx|xoutfitx|x#AC945A

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Characters Present

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

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bones burroughs
the kid | outfit | #167f40


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

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

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

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

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

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





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bohdi krishnan
the savage | outfit | #2d0704


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

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

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

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





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isaac courtney
the undying | outfit | #934016


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

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

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

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

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

Characters Present

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Characters Present

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

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dorian fawkes
the charlatanx|xoutfitx|x#8BA3A6

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"Victor," Michael replied to the presented question.

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

"I think Pearl has good taste."

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

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

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

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

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




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tamsin reid
cursed witchx|xoutfitx|x#000000

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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





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roman black
the lecherx|xoutfitx|x#AC945A

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Characters Present

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

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

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

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

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

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

Characters Present

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

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constance lamotte
the traitor | outfit | #863348

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the gluttion | outfit | #FD0E53

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Characters Present

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

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bones burroughs
the kid | outfit | #167f40

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Tamsin Reid Character Portrait: Dorian Fawkes Character Portrait: Constance Lamotte Character Portrait: Bones Burroughs Character Portrait: Isaac Courtney Character Portrait: Roman Black Character Portrait: Lucia DuBois Character Portrait: Taylor Montgomery Character Portrait: John Ito Character Portrait: Dahlia Bedacholli

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#, as written by mjolnir
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dorian fawkes
the charlatanx|xoutfitx|x#8BA3A6

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With the door open, Dorian's eyes widened slightly at the sight of John before him. His gaze temporarily fell to the blood that dripped from the male's hand. But he didn't comment on it and quickly shifted to look somewhere else and act as though he didn't see it. "Let me shower and get dressed and I'll join you. I'm guessing you need a drink just as much as I do."

Dorian nodded his head and side stepped so John could walk past him. "Understatement," he replied quietly as he closed to the door after his roommate entered their room. He took his time making his way back over to his bed and gently took Pearl from his shoulder and placed her on his pillow. His hands gently hiked his pants slightly, before lowering himself onto the mattress. It didn't take a genius to notice the conflict in John. The man clutched to his rosary like his life depended on it, although it was his soul that was truly at stake.

Neither one of them seemed to be in the best of standings for the day's proceedings. One of them worshipped God, the total and complete opposite of Lucifer in everything. The yin to Satan's yang. While Dorian was living a false life. He had no idea what would happen to either one of them once they signed their names. A heretic and a fraud. John was giving up everything he believed in while Dorian was signing his name a second time. Would hell rip open and swallow them both whole? He raised his right hand to tug at the collar of his sweater, finding it significantly more difficult to breathe.

Then the bathroom door open and out came John dressed in head to toe white, although far more formal than Dorian. "Let's get out of here," he said as he opened the door.

Dorian pushed off his bed, moving to his feet. He stroked Pearl's head with his index finger before scooping her up and placing her back on his shoulder. As he past John in the doorway, he gave the male a reassuring pat on the back. There weren't many words exchanged, or any as they exited the dormitory and made their way toward the coven's Gray Room, the local gentleman's club for warlocks. Neither one of them wasted much time making their way inside and to the bar. No one was working, no doubt getting ready for the Baptism and celebration to follow. So Dorian took it upon himself to walk around the counter and search the bottles for the strongest liquor he could find.

Halfway through his search, he found absinthe and figured that would more than suffice. Dorian grabbed two shot glasses and filled them to the brim. He held the small glass between his index finger and thumb as he raised it. He parted his lips to say something encouraging maybe? But no words escaped. Instead he simply clinked his shot glass to John's, then downed the contents without hesitation. He slammed the empty glass down on the bar and gripped the edge of the counter in his hands. The alcohol was supposed to help but he could feel his hands fighting to tremble against his grasp.

He spared a glance around the gentleman's club, making sure they were in fact alone. Dorian inhaled sharply as he poured another shot for himself. His hand trembled just enough to make some absinthe miss the glass and hit the counter. "Damn it," he cursed under his breath as he set down the bottle. He tried to calm himself with deep breaths, then quickly downed the alcohol once against with a cough.

Dorian had long accepted the fact that there was going to be a special place in hell for him. He was a liar, a fraud... a murderer. He cleared his throat, looking down at the counter as he tapped fingers upon it. "Are you sure you can go through with this?" While he himself was royally fucked no matter what he did, John still had a choice. Dorian's finger tapped upon the bar faster before he lightly smacked the surface with his hands. "I can cover for you," he offered in a hushed tone, looking his friend in the eyes. He might beyond saving, but... If John wanted out, maybe he could help him. Before Lucifer smites him from existence when he signs his name a second time.




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It seemed as though her presence was a magnet that day. Surprising. More often than not Tamsin was her own special breed of deterrent but it seemed that she must have mixed up her honey and vinegar that morning. Taylor, dressed nearly as dark as herself, found her way into some semblance of the group, sitting herself down in a chair that was close but not too close. She made a priority of getting out a book or tome of some sort before addressing the small handful of them that lounged around. "Morning, folks."

Before she could part her lips and make some half assed comment about how it was actually evening or who knows whatever else, Constance strutted down the corridor toward them. Tam knew full well that caramel skinned she wolf was seeking out her clingy French counter part. It wasn't like she hated either Constance or Lucia, arguments could be made that she was friends with one of them but that didn't change the fact that the toxic relationship between the two churned her stomach.

“Now, Tamsin. There are plenty of orgies and whatnot all around the academy now, you just haven’t been asked to join.”

“As oppose to you, who has been explicitly asked not to join,” Bones spoke up without even sparing the queen a sideways glance.

Tamsin pursed her lips slightly at the comment. She chuckled, running the tip of her tongue along her teeth as she shook her head. "Lucky for you, Princess. You wouldn't be able to handle me."

Constance ignored her comment to no surprise and turned her attention temporarily to Lucia. “This why you were occupied? You’re talkin’ to the town elder, letting her fill your head with heretic ideals of our Dark Lord and talks of nihilism. How nice.”

"Someone has to corrupt the youth," Tamsin replied plainly as she ran her index finger along Chesare's back.

Although her head was downcast, she slowly looked up over the frames of her sunglasses catching Constance gain a mischievous smirk as she eyed her up and down. Tamsin quirked a brow curiously, just a fraction so only the witch opposite her would notice. “You look exceptionally jaded and morbid this morning.”

Tamsin reached up, pushing her sunglasses up onto her head. "Black has always been my color." Simple words uttered with a very subtly suggestive undertone. To most it'd appear to be a simple comment about to choice in attire, but Constance would be able to pick up the hidden innuendos in her words. All the while, Tam's thumb and index fingers playfully toyed with the zipper on her shirt. "And it's always a sad day when people willingly sign their souls over to the world's biggest twat."

She leaned her head against the wall, trying not to audibly groan as Lucia leapt to her feet and to Constance's side. Tam rolled her eyes as she looked over at bones and clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. The following quips between Connie and Taylor, or whatever clingy shit Lucia did quickly lost her attention. Eventually the pair left to finish getting ready for their baptisms or whatever else. She couldn't care less to be honest.

“Too late to lodge a petition against her joining our coven? I’m sure I could get a million signatures with a little effort.” Tam chuckled as he moved to his feet. “I’ll catch you at the Baptism, I’m going to find Josie.” She gave bones a salute with her right hand before he left her sitting there with the ever talkative Taylor... And a talk, dark and very handsome gentleman that joined the chaos some point around the topic of orgies.

“What’s Connie’s deal?” the handsome stranger asked once they were alone... Or relatively while Taylor's nose was back in her book.

Tamsin adjusted how she sat slightly, crossing one ankle over another. She rolled her eyes, shaking her head slightly as she tried to think up a substantial response. "No fucking clue," she chuckled. Her index finger tapped on her thigh for a moment before she spoke up once again. "You're new here." Tam said it like a fact, not a question. She's been at that damned academy long enough to know everyone's names and a new face when she saw one. "So, what's your name and how do you know about Constance?" Her brow quirked as she posed the question, curious to hear his response.





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the lecherx|xoutfitx|x#AC945A

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"Hello, Di bell'aspetto," Dahlia all but purred from behind him as Roman stood in the open doorway. "Apologies for scaring your date, but would you be kind to zip me?"

Roman slowly turned around and found himself greeted by her slender bare back. Dahlia slowly swept her hair out of the way. He didn't say anything, instead closing the distance between them in silence. His fingertips softly brushed her bare skin as he took ahold of the zipper and slowly tugged it upwards. All the while his breath was warm, tickling the side of her exposed neck. Once he finished, he gently took her hair and pulled it back over her shoulder so it could cascade down her back. But before he stepped back, he couldn't help himself and placed a gentle lingering kiss upon the cusp of her shoulder.

"Are you ready?" Dahlia asked as she adjusted the sleeves of her dress.

Roman was quiet for a moment as she turned to face him and even smoothed a wrinkle in his shirt, causing him to smirk slightly. "As I'll ever be."

"It looks like she wanted to leave early, Roman. Come, I go with you." She held out an arm to him in offering which Roman didn't hesitate to take. He led her out of the room and closed the door behind them.

"You look absolutely ravishing, bella donna." He took her hand and gently raised it to his lips, placing a gentle kiss upon her knuckles. Unlike the other witches and warlocks who wasted their time socializing and scurrying about the dorms, they made their way to the desecrated church for the evenings proceedings.

The walk was peaceful and they went, relatively, unbothered aside from some glances from the younger students they passed on the green. It came as no surprise that upon entering the church, Roman and Dahlia were some of the first to arrive other than some of the teachers and the high priest. Father Proctor was the first to approach them. Although the man's smile seemed friendly, Rome could see through it to the hidden animosity he felt towards him due to his mothers favoritism. "Roman Black, punctual as always." His handshake was firm, borderline threatening before he released Rome's hand.

The High Priest greeted Dahlia with a chivalrous kiss to the hand and then motioned to the rest of the church. "We will beginning at sundown. Until then, feel free to mingle. Although Ms. Bedacholli will not be able to accompany you during the ceremony."

Once Father Proctor left them to their own devices, Roman's mother was quick to approach the pair giving a friendly smile to Dahlia before embracing her son. "Roman, my love. You look so handsome. I cannot believe the day has finally come." She took Roman's face in her hands then proceeded to place a kiss on either of his cheeks. She gave him one more hug before looking back over toward his company. "Dahlia, darling, you look beautiful."

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Bones Burroughs Character Portrait: Josie Jaiyen Character Portrait: Isaac Courtney Character Portrait: Rian Goulding

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J O S I E x J A I Y E N

the fury xx outfit xx #f0c0c0

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Some time had passed before anything happened. While Josie read, students moved in and out of the dining room, chattering to themselves, though she drew no attention to herself; and for their part nobody called her name, leaving her to her blessed alone time.

That is, until someone dropped into the seat next to her, their legs nudging hers as they stretched out under the table. "How's Josie, where's the pussycats? Almost time for that pesky baptism thing."

She looked up, already pushing down the burst of annoyance that flared to life. It stopped dead in her throat, disappearing just as quickly when she saw who her newfound companion was. "Bones, good morning," she greeted, slipping a bookmark between the book's pages and carefully flipping it closed. "Have you had breakfast?"

The answer to her question came in the form of a pastry being stolen from her plate. Bellamy chirped once, his estimation of a laugh, before joining Bones in his thievery. Josie glanced from boy to stoat, exasperated.

"You’re not nervous are you? Little hint, make sure you’ve got your baptismal name sorted beforehand," Bones advised, to which Josie responded with a haughty sniff, although she was only joking.

"Of course, do I look like the type to start glancing around in a panic and land on the first name that pops into my mind? You're lucky you looked up into the sky and not down to see a bug," she teased, reaching over to poke Bones's cheek with one well-manicured fingernail. "And that pesky baptism is only the single initiation ceremony we have into the Dark Lord's community."

She took another blueberry danish from the plate, the last piece that hadn't yet been claimed by anyone, biting delicately down. The sugary pastry exploded in her mouth, and she took the momentary distraction to consider that maybe she didn't need to sign her name away to be accepted for who she was—a capable, clever witch.

Another moment, and she banished the thought quickly. Of course she had to do it. It was everything she'd been preparing for, and she had to do it. Everyone had their moments of doubt before their Baptism, and that was fine. As long as she went through with the ritual, everything would be fine. The Dark Lord had all but promised it.

"And how has your morning been so far?" Josie turned her attention upon Bones, taking in his all-black visage, the way he usually was. A raven among the doves. "Have any productive plans for the day?"




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

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Isaac's awkward introduction was not lost on Rian, although he didn't quite bother making any particular note of it. After all, he wasn't likely to win the "Academy's Best Conversationalist" award any time soon, so Isaac could keep his awkward coughs.

"They still got that Spanish bar where they sacrificed that witch?"

The question caught Rian off guard. He wasn't in the habit of going down to bars, much less knowing their history, but then again it seemed like a question that had been asked in the spirit of seeming friendly; not a real enquiry. Maybe he should attempt to be friendly back. He searched for an appropriate answer.

"I suppose so," the best response he could come up with, delivered in the usual low tone. The answer seemed to satisfy Isaac, who offered him a nod, sweeping out of the room again. "Enjoy offering yourself to the Dark Lord."

Rian stared after Isaac's retreating back, and then at the wood grain of the door as it slammed shut behind his roommate. "...Thank you," he finally said, although no one was around to hear it now.

He took some time longer to make himself presentable, and then, like Isaac before him, swept out of the room without a second glance (although he closed the door much more gently), ducking around the corner and down to the main school building like a shadow in search of some breakfast.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Tamsin Reid Character Portrait: Bones Burroughs Character Portrait: Josie Jaiyen Character Portrait: Isaac Courtney Character Portrait: Taylor Montgomery

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bones burroughs
the kid | outfit | #167f40

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Bones sighed and guided away Josie’s finger that was pointed at his cheek. He sniffed and leaned his head back. “I don’t know. Winston Worm Burroughs had nice ring to it.” It was supposed to be joke, but he instantly regretted it, he loathed the name Winston, which only worsened when he remembered that he shared it with his father. Hence his determination to go by his childhood nickname. Derived from the insulting taunt, bag of bones.

Bones looked down at the crumbs he'd left strewn across the table underneath him. He pressed his thumb to them and brought them to his mouth. "And that pesky baptism is only the single initiation ceremony we have into the Dark Lord's community."

Bones held up his index finger and leaned in as if he were passing on some great secret. “Pesky and overrated.” Of course, he neglected to mention that he had been as white as a ghost when it'd been his turn to write his name. His lack of bravery, had pissed him off, which resulted in the biggest fight to date that he’d ever had with his father. It wasn’t soon after Bones packed his bag for New York.

Josie went back to finishing her pastry and Bones was able to lean back and look her over. In terms of hiding their emotions, he was a novice and she was an expert. Even as close as they were, Bones often struggled to gauge her, her frowns and jaw clenches were always gone before he could even confirm their existence. He looked away, he wasn't some soft-hearted kid that was going to ask for an emotional update. Josie turned back to him. "And how has your morning been so far? Have any productive plans for the day?"

Bones rolled his eyes but before he could answer his phone started vibrating in his pocket, he knew who it was without even checking. He held it between two fingers and showed it to Josie. “The old man’s in town, he’s been filling up my missed calls all morning.” The buzzing stopped and Bones tossed his phone onto the table in front of him. “So I’ve avoiding the dickweed scheduled in for most the afternoon. But he’s an early to bed type, so I figure I’ve got the night free.” He smirked at Josie as if it were one big joke, she knew all the reasons he didn’t want to see his father. However apathetic joker was far preferable to wounded boy.

He glanced up to find the dining room newly empty. “Speaking of avoidance, you’ve got a very important date missy.” He pulled his lanky frame up and out of his seat then stretched his elbows out wide. With a grin he held out a mockingly gallant hand to help her up. “It’s not every day a girl gets to wear white and speak some old fashioned words in front of a crowd.”


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isaac courtney
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Tamsin responded first, naturally, and which a chuckle to boot. "No fucking clue. You're new here." She watched him for a moment she took her position of all-knower very seriously, however she hadn’t asked a question so he felt no compulsion to answer, to contradict her statement. "So, what's your name and how do you know about Constance?" He gazed over at Tamsin, and considered his answer. How best to reveal as little as possible. He wanted to keep his cards close to his chest about his history with Constance, or her relations. He also wasn’t quite ready to let Tamsin in on his new body update.

He was cut off from answering the question for a moment when the other girl spoke up. "How could he not know her? She's a complete twat to put things nicely. If she doesn't hate you, there's something wrong. Not like I'm any better honestly though." She was sitting close to Tamsin but Isaac hadn’t even noticed her, though he rarely paid attention to things he didn’t care about. However, not many people were allowed the to hang with Tamsin, she was prickly at the best of times. He gazed over the girl, typical all black attire in check, it looked like something straight out of Tamsin’s cupboard.

Isaac shrugged throwing around hate seemed part of the witch gig, since the beginning of time. “There’s a reason that witch sounds eerily similar to bitch.”

It wasn’t long till he was looking back at Tamsin. “Isaac Courtney.” He was certain she’d still want an answer for her question, so he eased himself into a seat opposite them. He wasn’t much a floor sitter “I once knew a relation of her’s.” He held Tamsin’s gaze as he kept his response as vague as possible. He felt no need to fill in any blanks, if anyone wanted to know more about his business they could ask, and he could elect not to answer. He raised a shoulder in a casual gesture that was far too purposeful. “I merely wished to know if she shared the same disposition.” A murderous one, or a traitorous one.

He flicked his gaze over to the other girl with a smirk as he spoke to her instead of Tamsin. “I’m hardly new, though that’s a matter of semantics.” He himself was not new to the Academy, but his current body was certainly new to the academic establishment. Last time he’d been here, he’d stayed seven months and had been going by the name Raphael. Before he'd taken off with a seductive witch and a one way ticket to Puerto Rico, neither had gone well, which Tamsin had warned. He continued speaking to other girl, giving her wink, “Tamsin likes to thinks she knows everything about everyone.” Isaac was never concerned about pissing off Tamsin, he was one of the few with enough time on his hands to out wait her bad moods. Plus if he ever overstepped the mark, he had the luxury of being able to leave the Academy.

Figuring he’d given Tamsin enough hints he rose to his feet and gestured to the door. “Now it’s time to, in the words of Tamsin, watch witches make the worst decision of their lives.” Living the way he did, off the grid and out of Lucifer’s notice, meant that he lacked the luxury of outright criticising Lucifer. Though he didn’t disagree with Tamsin’s sentiments.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Tamsin Reid Character Portrait: Bones Burroughs Character Portrait: Josie Jaiyen Character Portrait: Casper Reid Character Portrait: Isaac Courtney

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J O S I E x J A I Y E N

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An odd buzzing filled the brief silence between Josie and Bones; the sound caught her off guard, but the boy just fished his phone out, holding it in front of him like it was something dead and decomposing. "The old man’s in town, he’s been filling up my missed calls all morning." Presumably he meant his father, whom Josie had never met but had her distaste all the same, after all he'd done to his son.

"Hmm. I'll be with my parents, but if you need an excuse to keep you busy let me know," she offered, shrugging a single shoulder. She was lucky enough to get along with her family—goodness knows enough students suffered from overbearing or otherwise shitty parents—but she knew enough evasion tactics from her own time spent ducking around uncomfortable questions. Bones was close enough to let himself be vulnerable with her, and she was determined to help if she could.

Of course, as it usually was with either of them, their moment of openness did not last long. Bones's eyes darted around the dining room, and Josie saw his usual veneer slide into place. "Speaking of avoidance, you've got a very important date missy." He stood, holding a hand out to her.

Josie took it, smiling wryly. "With the Dark Lord himself? Why, Mr Burroughs, that would be such an honour." Bellamy leapt onto her free hand, scrambling up the length of her arm to drape himself around her neck, suddenly shy. She laughed and squirmed at the sensation of his fur brushing along her skin, almost tipping over, but then managed to regain her balance, still gripping Bones's hand tightly. "Well. If you're ready to head off." Josie squared her shoulders, shooting him a conspiratorial smile. {b]"Shall we go outside?"[/b]

Hand in hand they headed out of the dining room, ducking through a side door out of the building. It was a beautiful day out, the sun beating merrily down as students and family wandered the grounds. Josie found herself moving towards the front of the school, searching for the car that was bound to pull in at any moment. "I hope you won't be too uncomfortable around my parents. I won't say anything if you conveniently disappear,"
she murmured to Bones, though her attention was focused elsewhere.

Then a grey car pulled into the driveway, and he was completely lost to her. Pulling away from his side, Josie hurried towards the car, waving and calling. Her parents stepped out, her father a stout man in a pressed suit, her mother tall and willowy, both of them exuding a great presence. They embraced their daughter, Josie exchanging a few words in Thai with her father before he reminded her quietly that they should speak in English, given that she was at school and not in the privacy of her own home.

"You'll want to see the church, of course, and perhaps Bones will come along with us," Josie began, suddenly remembering the friend she had left waiting for her. She turned, searching for him. Had he decided to leave after all?




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C A S P E R x R E I D

the honourable xx outfit xx #1e6262

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An agonising twenty minutes passed before Casper managed to get Ophelia and his parents settled inside the church. At least they seemed to find the Academy impressive—Ophelia barely had anything negative to say. On the contrary, she seemed to be glad that Casper, at least, had made it this far (to say nothing of his wayward and less competent cousins).

All the same, once the adults were seated in the church, Casper mumbled a vague excuse about needing to see to something else first. "But darling, I thought you'd be happy to see us," his mother sighed, clearly reluctant to let him go.

"I know, Mom, it's just a small emergency. We could always hang out after the ceremony," he suggested, backing away from their pew. "Save me a seat!" And he turned and bolted out of the church, leaving his mother to listen to Ophelia start up again: "Eloise, you know I love the boy, but he's just too tardy, always rushing around..."

Where hadn't Casper looked? Maybe Tamsin had hidden herself in one of the common areas of the dormitories, rather than in the school building itself. Cursing to himself, he jogged back to the dorm buildings, trying to remember where the common areas were. He didn't frequent them often, preferring instead to hang out in the school building or in his own room.

Finally he caught sight of a familiar shock of dark hair and the lingering smell of smoke, and ducked hurriedly through the door, crashing into someone else standing by the door at the last moment—he hadn't been able to see the other guy from his angle. Casper caught the other person just in time to stop him from falling over, stepping away hurriedly. "My bad, didn't see you there," he gasped, out of breath.

But Tamsin. Casper turned to her, hands held out as if he could keep her from going to the desecrated church. "Grandma Ophelia's here," he announced in place of a greeting. "I mean, I'm going to keep her company... but you had better figure out how to stay out of her way. She's in the church right now." Tamsin was probably going to be at the signing, everyone was expected to attend, but the last thing Casper wanted was for her and the Reids to cause a scene.