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Constance Lamotte

the traitor

0 · 667 views · located in The Academy of Unseen Arts

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

Description

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    xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx t r a i t o rxx t r ā d i t ō r e m xx / ˈt r e ɪ t ɚ / x

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n i c k n a m e s x // she hates all nicknames but sadly, she has been called x Con (by those who know her) for decades, Connie (by those truly close to her) one she abhords but, those closest to her call her by to get under her skin or when they need something, and my little hellfire by her parents.

a g e x // xtwenty-five years old; October 30th

g e n d e r x // x(cis)female

s e x u a l i t y x // xpansexual ; homoromantic

o r i g i n x // xNew Orleans, Louisiana 1994

r o l e x // xguardian ; the traitor





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D E C O R U S


h e i g h t x // x5'11 ft

w e i g h t x // x130 lbs

h a i r x // xGrowing up, Constance's hair has always been a giant pain in her ass, seeing that she got her father's beautiful curls as opposed to her mother's long and loose waves. Unlike most in her family, who had hair that grew down, Constance for most of her life has a luscious afro, completely untouched by chemicals or straightening tools. Her parents didn't allow her to do anything like that just so she can fit into the mortals' idea of beauty. But, when she first got the Academy she gave into the idea of straight hair being the best and from age 15 until 18 she wouldn't step foot outside without her hair straight. However, once going through her... metamorphosis of such, she shaved her head and never looked back. It took forever for it to grow to where it is now and she plans on keeping it this style for a while along with the blonde which she has had since she was sixteen and her signature finger waves (which are always lookin' just right before she leaves her room).

e y e s x // xIf there's one thing she loves more than bone structure it's her beautiful hazel eyes that she got from her mom's side with a mixture of browns and lighter browns. People always told her that when they look into her eyes, they see her mother. One tiny thing about her eyes, however, is the fact that when she is intensely focused on a spell from her father's side black rings begin to appear around the outer ring of her eyes before rapidly making their way to her pupils, giving her the appearance of some sort of demon.

o d d i t i e s x // xSeeing that Constance as a child was mischievous and brutally trained, she still has a dozens scars from cuts and bruises from her childhood some from her mishandlings and other from learning session with her father when she wasn't good enough to stop him. Her most noticeable being the small indent on her forehead from a session when she was seven and a scar that goes horizontally down her right eyebrow from when her father tried to attack her when she was ten.

s t y l e x // xFashion is a huge part of Constance's life especially since the women on her mother's side being enamored with it. However, unlike the Leveau women, who chose to stay in touch with whatever was in trend at the time. Constance has always stuck to the classics, things that will never go out of style and always look phenomenal, no matter what. Her style is trickier to pinpoint than most girls their age who can easily say their style is 'indie', or 'preppy', or whatever and this is all because her ensembles can be described classic preppy mixed with edgy elements. Usually, her outfits consist of white button-up shirts, lace dresses, and skirts, a pair of either dark red or black heels, a tweed jacket, or one of her dozens of blazers. The idea of wear flats, jeans, and a t-shirt just isn't appealing to her. Heaven, she owns maybe three pairs of black jeans in her entire wardrobe, only wearing them when she really has to. She will only wear the best especially when it comes to pulling inspiration for her ensembles that are strikingly chic with a touch of trend, femininity, class, and glamour. You'll remember Constance. This goes for her jewelry as well. You'll often see her conjuring a spell with tiny rings on her fingers or one of her mother's ruby statement necklaces and always her small gold nose ring.

Her makeup and nails are no different, always polished and put together. There will never be a day where you see her without her 'face' which includes her signature smokey eye, her stiletto shaped nails (probably painted dark shade of red, grey, purple, or black), of course, one of her favorite oxblood or black lipsticks. With the perfect shadow and mascara to match to compliment her gorgeous brown eyes that still seem to look right through you whenever she gives you one of the infamous stares along with a smirk which she never hides with a matte lipstick. It has taken Constance years to perfect her look and she went on as 'that weird tomboy' for too long to go back and she'll be damned before letting that happened even if it means continuing to wake up early to make herself look put together each and every day





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I N G E N I U M
xxxxxxxxxxxxx a b i l i t y xx \ ə - ˈ b i - l ə - t ē \ x


c y r o k i n e s i s x // x It allows Constance to create and manipulate ice as she pleases (once she learns to control it), including snow, hail, etc including even the water in the air or in a victim's body. Which is where Constance's uses will most come in later on; freezing one in place or even lowering their body temperature by slowly freezing the water in their body just to make them bend to her will, when they challenge her, or when she loses her temper and starting an ice storm wherever she is if she ever truly loses control.


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


V a l e n t i nx // x A stunning (not that she'll let him know that) black venomous cobra named after a great-great-grandfather of hers, on her mother's side and as much as she'll take it to her grave, he is like her firstborn child and she would die for him. She usually keeps him in her purse or wrapped around her hand when she can.


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


c o n f i d e n c e x // x Nothing and no one can break Constance's confidence. She knows she's one of the best at the academy and because of this unwavering confidence and sense of who she is, she can't be caught off guard and keeps everyone else on their toes since they know they shake her. She takes every shot she given, that goes from magic to just taking her chance on a pretty face.

i n t e l l i g e n c ex // x The high-level intelligence comes with the cunning, calculating nature and from being compelled to study and practice from the time she was able to read and then becoming an aid in the academy's library just so she can be surrounded in the knowledge of witches before her.

m a g i cx // x Her confidence and intelligence mixed with the fact that Damien and Dominique Lamotte are two of the most renowned witches and warlocks of their time, makes Constance a threat you do not want to mess with. She's skilled just like her parents in their fields along with her favorite; demonology and hexes. It also helps to have "found" her late father's "lost" journals which holds immense knowledge of their world and spells.

e m o t i o n sx // x Not only do she know how to control her own, but she knows even better how to use other people's to break and mold them. She knows exactly what to do to her under anyone's skin and isn't above hitting below the belt to do whether it's to throw you off in class or just for fun. But, it's not all bad. She can also use this for good, knowing when friends are down and need an apathetic shoulder to cry on.



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


o p p o r t u n i s tx // x Constance, at her core, always looking out for one person: her. If she sees an opportunity, she takes it without hesitation. She will do whatever she has in order to get where she wants to be and cross over whoever she needs with only a few being the exception unless the payoff is something she can't deny.

v i c i o u sx // x When she sees weakness, she pounces. Simple as that. If the world won't take it easy on people, why should she? Usually, this goes as far as constant snarking or small spells unless she's bored or provoked. Then it turns cruel and unrelenting until you're so far down it seems wrong for her to keep kicking.

r e v e n g ex // x Connie doesn't see it as revenge as much... balancing the scales. Only truly striking or being vengeful when either she or her friends are wronged. But, boy does she love evening the scales and because of it, she's a sucker for giving a helping hand to anyone needing to make things right in the world without a catch on her end.


m o r t a l sx // x She is Lamotte after all and because of it holds the same prejudice beliefs as the rest of her family. That mortals are beneath them, they always will be. Simple as that. But, they are fun to mess with every once and a while especially the men.


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


b e i n g x i n f e r i o r x x // x From birth, she was taught good was never good enough and if she wanted to be anything significant in the eyes of the dark lord she would have to prove herself to anyone and everyone. She worked her whole life to be one of the best, she had her father killed to prove her value and she will do anything it takes to stay there.

l o s i n gxxc o n t r o lx // x With being someone who loves being 100% in control of both her mind and body and situations around her, the idea of one day losing control of it scares her to her core whether it be from using too much magic or anything else

b e i n g x j u s t x a n o t h e r x f a c ex // x Constance doesn't do average or ordinary. She doesn't, can't just be another face in the crowd that lives and dies and offers . nothing worthwhile or remarkable to history and that no one will remember her years from now.

n o t h i n g x // x She is petrified to think that nothing matters, that nothing she does, or anyone does for the matter, means anything in the hierarchy of things. That everything she knows and believes isn't true and that once she dies, that's it, nothing happens to her or her soul or anyone she cares for. She needs to believe that everything she's done is for a reason.





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P E R S O N A L I T A T E
xxxxxxxxxxx confident xx charismatic xx resiliant xx cunning x
xxxxxxxxxx vicious xx manipulative xx competitive xx arrogant x
xxxxxxx passionate xx unemotional xx intelligent xx ambitious x
xxxxxxxxxx overprotective xx proud xx snide xx flirtatious x


Constance Estelle Lamotte has never been, nor will she ever be a girl who belongs to the current generation, even when she was a child. She was and still is a searcher, and a seeker of the truth in the world, and to find her own truth from within herself with time. It has taken her forever come to the level of understanding of herself that she is at right now, and even though she likes to believe that she has a clear and compelling sense of herself. She knows she's only eighteen and there is more about herself than she has yet to learn. And as a result of this outlook on life, she has devoted parts of her life to continue to find out more about her, her family, and the world around her as a whole. Some around her believe she is nothing more than a pretty, yet terrifying face, a woman who just likes to be the center of attention who acts deep and poetic in order to seem better than those around her. And, part of it is true. She does believe that compared to mortals, half-bloods, and even other witches, she is better. Why? Because she's Constance. Is she condescending because of it? You could say that and she'd agree. She's always held herself to this level, even as a child before entering the academy.

Perhaps it's from being praised by her parents from birth as she possessed a finely tuned mind and an analytical way of thinking through her life, being capable of great concentration when it comes to her magic and studies, the one thing she has always shown passion for. This is one thing she knows she is amazing at because of who her family is. She knows she meant to do great things in the world with her magic and while she knows she will never go down the path of her father. She knows she desires to be regarded as one of the greatest witches of their time just like her parents. And nothing or no one will keep her from believing that or making that happen. Not a classmate, a lover, or even a family member (clearly). Without stating, she's pretty intense to a level most seem unable to handle which is the reason behind her only have a few close friends. But, she's always been seen as the weird one even before starting at the academy and she prides herself on being a non-conformist from her personality to the magic she chose to practice. Which, she'll admit, comes off as inadvertently pretentious. However, when you are around her. She will make you listen. As she possesses one hell of a silver tongue, charming her way into any building, bed, or circle she damn well pleases.

But, with the good. There is always the bad as well and, well, let's just say, Constance has more than her fair share. While she is romantic (when she chooses to be) and charismatic, she's manipulative. Using her charm to her advantage whenever given the chance if it'll help her obtain her end goal while also making you crawl in your skin. It's fun for her. To get into peoples' mind, under their skin, and just overall make them squirm. Therefore, they become off-balanced, start to doubt themselves and their abilities and then BAM! Constance goes in for the kill and this can go on for a while as she truly believes in playing the long game. This can be another from picking into their past to just teasing people playfully until they snap. While she's highly intelligent, she can be ruthless, vicious, and even machiavellianistic and an opportunist. Using whoever she needs to in order to get where she wants in the world with only a small number of people being exempt from this.

They have earned her loyalty and her trust which is a marvelous thing since when Constance decides to show her bad side. Close to no one is safe both figuratively and sometimes literally as she does have a fixation towards revenge for those who wrong her or if someone comes to her asking for her... assistance in the issue. Seeing that she is a big believer in balancing the scales, keeping everything nice and tidy. Even if deep down, she knows she just helping create a little bit of chaos. But, hey their not her enemies (usually). But, their one thing worst than those stated above and that is her detachment from others around her because of what has happened to her, she finds it difficult to relate to the emotions of everyone around her usually only really caring about the small group of people she holds dear to her. Which has started the rumor that she's a sociopath, but she isn't. Ever since becoming the last in her bloodline, she has just felt as if a piece of her is missing. Which she can't really explain and doesn't really choose to think about it as that'll lead to doubt and doubt leads to weakness.

And once you are able to get past all of that, 'Connie' as she sadly is called can be a surprisingly fun young lady to be around. She can be the life of a party when she actually chooses to be. She's a charismatic gal when open to others, always want to display her unbeatable wit and sharp silver tongue. And of course, showing off her magic. As most people are interested in it as much as they're hesitant about it. What can she say? Her magic, any magic. Creates this rush of it all just delivers this thrill through her body that no drug or cocktail could ever compare to. Plus, she loves the attention of showing it off while also showing people that the dark art, while different aren't inherently evil. She isn't an evil person who wants to take over the world and then all of Hell. She just likes to be on top while pissing people off. But, like the majority of people in the world, Constance does have definite limits with her socializing. While great in social situations, she is keenly aware of the need to "come off of the stage" more than most people expect and return to her solitude in order to not drain herself while also returning to her studies without interruptions. Hey, if she wants to truly be the best that means closing herself off to focus. with only a distinct few who are aware that they can come to her at any time without her pushing or shoo them away.





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H I S T O R I A R U M


Constance's life, from an outsider looking in, would seem less than ideal but, for the young witch, it was perfect. From both sides of her lineage, depending on who you asked they either tell you she'd be destined to become just like the 'rest of them' or that she was destined for greatness. Dominique Leveau, a descendant of the voodoo queen, Marie Laveau and handsome stranger who found his way into New Orleans. Her mother had known of the young man's reputation, most people did especially in their world. Damien Lamotte, the new high priest of the church of Iscariot after their former one had been found dead in his bed with a black ooze coming out of his body. Damien, along with the rest of his family, has always been a little infamous for being a tad bit nefarious. Seeing that for as far back as they can go on their family tree, the Lamottes have been masters of their craft, masters of the dark arts and known for either intentionally or "conveniently" being put in charge in several roles throughout the witch world.

As time progressed, Damien earned his stripes in the eyes of the Anti-Pope, the Council, and even Satan himself. He continued the legacy created before them to be feared but immensely respected. Even Dominique started getting engulfed in the world to the chagrin of most of her family, who otherwise stayed out of politics and chose to be left alone. Making them soon disown her. After close to 25 years together, the final piece in their puzzle and that was a beautiful baby girl named Constance Estelle. She was their pride and joy, especially Damien who saw her as his spitting image, the perfect offspring, his perfect like hellfire and this idea only grew as she got older. As she was brought up in the dark arts, taught by one of the best of their time. Constantly being told that one day she will come close to how powerful the men before her were. From a young age, she showed a level of skill Damien had to praise. She was perfect to him and he vowed to never have another child because of it. He believed that no one could beat her and he refused to give another child that chance of taking over what he saw as hers.

But, don't be fooled just because of how she was brought up doesn't mean her childhood was any different than anyone else's. Her family, while eccentric was normal to her. She didn't know any other way, she was used to the long conjuring sessions, she was used to her father lecturing her about how to master her power and find her perfect craft, how to get in the minds of others and uses their fears to break them, and of course, stories on his exploits. She was used to the looks they received whenever they went into town or how she was homeschooled most of her childhood because no one else 'understood' her. Her mother had to beg her husband to allow Constance to attend the Academy of the Unseen Arts when she was finally old enough, telling him that the social interaction would do her some good and against his best wishes, Dominique sent Constance away not only to the school but, to a new church that was not their own. During her first year at only 12 years old, she was not only toughened up after a brutal harrowing and started to fall in love with the church and the academy more than she ever thought possible but also heard several rumors. That she'd ask her mother about but would be shooed off until she was 18.

Dominique explained that the Lamottes, particularly her father was an avid master of witchcraft, yes, but used them against whoever crossed him. He had followers and a pureblood supremacy agenda for the 'betterment of their society'. She confirmed the rumor Constance had heard for years. That her father 'sold his soul to the devil' in exchange for immense power, corrupting himself to the core in order to be unbelievably powerful while doing everything he could to gain immortality. But, that part was never confirmed. This idea weighted on Constance, giving her this pride and shame while starting her on a darker past than she ever thought possible.

Over the years, it was made apparent to everyone but Constance that her parents' marriage was going up in flames, then again she could have just been in denial at the idea of her parents separating. This all came to a head when Constance was 19. She could only catch bits and pieces of the argument but, the part that made her finally listen was when her mother threatened to take 'his precious hellfire' and disappear. That was the last night she saw her mother alive as for the next morning, she was found dead hanging in a tree with a strange black ooze forming out of her mouth and several slashes all over her body. That was straw that broke the camel's back, the only person who had ever shown her true love and compassion was gone and Constance felt a hole in her heart. She returned to the academy with a new demeanor to her: that she was no longer the one to mess with.

She turned vicious and cold, turning herself into her studies in order to find a spell to either bring back her mother or put whoever did this head on a spike. The assailant was found a year later and was none other than her own uncle, her mother's brother who swore he didn't do it, that he wasn't in control of his body like a puppet on strings. Before his death, Constance went to meet with him where he confided that was controlled by his familiar, who was given to him by Damien not long before her mother was found dead. He promised her if she could bring him justice, he would trade her every last journal of his family's and her father's that were thought to be lost years ago as soon as he was absolved of any wrongdoing and took claim of High Priest. She promised. Too bad she didn't specify what she was promising. You see, she promised to bring her father to justice but, she never said she'd save her uncle. He was the one who killed her mother after, it was his hand after all. Constance couldn't let that go, plus, why would she help another man take over what was going to rightfully hers once she signed her name in the Book of the Beast? So, she waited and watched her uncle go to his death before saying a word.

She didn't even go to her father, she went directly to the Council and Father Proctor with the information that a High Priest has killed a beloved sorceress, who famously taught at the school for decades and lied to not only them but the Dark Lord himself. She promised power, respect, favors if she could prove this and death if she couldn't. With the trap set, she slipped her father a truth potion and all of his dirty little secrets came tumbling out: that he killed his predecessor in New Orleans, Constance's mother who was dead and poisoned before she was anywhere near the tree with Constance's uncle being used to make it look like a witch hunter, the Lamotte's unborn child, that he attempted to take Constance's power from her as he began seeing her as a threat, and most importantly, attempted to take his followers away from the Churches of Darkness and Satan, himself in order to become an idol in his own right. The last one was a coincidence but it was the last nail she needed for his coffin. With his secrets out, he would have killed Constance if she hadn't had the Dark Lord and the Council listening and hearing every word on how their respected and trusted confidant tried to ruin and disrespect them. He was detained and put in the Witches' Cell with the door being locked by the woman he raised. For months, she starved him, tortured him, and use every last game she was taught to break him and just when he was at his end: she took everything. His church which she laid claim to, his name, his knowledge, everything with her last words to him before he was beheaded being; "If you love the Dark Lord, go to him and pray he shows you mercy. And know that everything you held dear is now mine. That I won."

With the last part of her lineage gone, Constance no longer felt any attachment to her old life in New Orleans, so she burned their home to the ground and left their Church without a High Priest before turning the Converts in as traitors to the Dark Lord allowing over 30 members, friends who watched her grow up burn with her father and left their church for good. With her past gone, she was now able to move on with the respect of those who matter in their world because of what she was willing to sacrifice for them (it was really for her, but they don't need to know that) and start a new life in New York, completely fresh of the blood on her hands, where she was ready to finally sign her name in the Book of the Beast after long last without anyone standing in her way.





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I V YxB I S H O P
"Aw, she's adorable like an orphaned puppy who was left at the shelter too long."


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Despite popular belief, Constance doesn't hate Ivy, no. She just hates the way she was raised and thinks that the root of the 'mortal witch's' weakness; her annoying positivity, unbreakable will, her tendency to stick to her morals all caused by her mothers raising her as if she was some weak mortal girl and never telling her the true greatness of her heritage. Constance sees that darkness Ivy tries to hide away; she's vengeful, calculating, and has a true darkness about her. Constance just wants to bring it out and that means attempting to push the small girl to her breaking point every chance she gets hoping it finally comes out. She's never gotten there but, she knows she can. Constance's the master of mental chess and loves a long game.


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R O M A NxB L A C K
"Ah, Rome. Such a pretty face and punchable smug smile."


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W I N I F R E DxB L A N C H A R D
"I always did have a thing for small, little redheads."


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B O N E SxB U R R O U G H
"Always did like people with a little bit of attitude."


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I S S A CxC O U R T N E Y
"Who?"


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L U C I AxD U B O I S
"My chaotic right hand woman who'd help me set the world ablaze."


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Constance will never say how much she cares for anyone especially Luci, but Luci is probably one of the only people alive that she'd say she loves. From the moment they met, it seemed as if they were meant to be. Sure, Luci was rough around the edges but, she invigorated Constance.She excited her to her core, made her feel like she was on the high of her life every time they decided to stir up some chaos together. And despite her need for affection and her addictions to several things Luci's her partner in darkness, her second in command, her best friend and Constance would kill anyone for her. She'd truly do anything for this little drunk.


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D O R I A NxF A W K E S
"Secret, secrets are no fun unless you share with everyone."


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R I A NxG O U L D I N G
"A brief quote in your character's voice about the other character."


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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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J O S I ExJ A I Y E N
"Her smile is irriatating but, she's not a bad roommate."


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N E O N AxK I
"A brief quote in your character's voice about the other character."


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B O D H IxK R I S H N A N
"I don't know if she likes me very much."


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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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M I C H A E LxN A V A R R O
"Messing with him is my favorite part of the day"


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D E S D E M O N AxP R O C T O R
"A brief quote in your character's voice about the other character."


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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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E M R Y SxP R O C T O R
"A brief quote in your character's voice about the other character."


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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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C A S P E RxR E I D
"Mm, he has a jawline for days."


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T A M S I NxR E I D
"Usually I try to respect my elders, but she makes it so hard."


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h e x c o d e x // x #863348 x // x f a c e c l a i m x // x tati gabrielle x // x c r e a t o r x // x BleedingLover x // x c s x // x mjolnir

So begins...

Constance Lamotte'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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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




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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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




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C A S P E R x R E I D

the honourable xx outfit xx #1e6262

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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




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

the void xx outfit xx #fcb514

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Characters Present

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

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constance lamotte
the traitor | outfit | #863348


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Characters Present

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He looked away.

Characters Present

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

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the glutton | outfit | #FD0E53

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the traitor | outfit | #863348

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"You're lucky, you're cute. 'Sides, I need someone to tell me how great I look."

Lucia stared up at Constance with a glint in her eye, unphased by the scolding that had just been delivered. She’d been on the end of worse tongue lashings. There was no sense in defending her own actions, not when Constance seemed to be in such a forgiving mood. Pressing herself against her, Lucia rested her chin on Constance’s shoulder while keeping the same pace. Her lips were hovered just below Constance’s ear, her breath on Constance’s skin as she spoke.

“But of course, you are an image of perfection; a work of art; a masterpiece.” Lucia ran her free hand along the flowers stitched onto the delicate lace of her dress along Constance’s arm. The young witch gave no small compliments, especially when it came to her better half. Constance's smirk grew as Luci complimented her. To say that was the only reason she kept the Parisian around would be a lie, but it was definitely a contributing factor. Showering Connie with compliments was Luci's specialty and Constance loved it.

She turned her eyes to Luci who was resting on her shoulder and gave her the biggest of smiles. The truest form of achievement from Constance. A genuine smile. They didn't come often but, when they did more than likely Luci was the cause and today was a day she couldn't help but be filled with her own personal form of glee. To the outside world, and perhaps even mortal when the pair venture off academy grounds, the pair seemed oddly closer or even dating to most who didn't know the pair personally. To everyone who did know them - it was still odd but, it was just Luci and Constance.

She gave Constance’s hand a squeeze before peeling herself from the witch’s side, still keeping their step-in sync and their fingers linked. A foul presence filled the corridor, Lucia could feel them before she saw them. Bodhi was ahead of the pack, unusual but nevertheless unsurprising. Lucia felt herself rolling her eyes before she could catch herself, looking to Constance with an expression of annoyance. Bodhi was usually too concerned with her image to be seen talking to someone with such a mediocre pedigree as Lucia, but Desdemona had made it a point to be a source of aggravation in Lucia’s life.

“Ugh, I knew I smelled something rotten.” She said to Constance, looking back over to the immaculately designed clique as they approached one another. Luci may have hated the group that the pair had encountered but, Constance's relationship with them were a tad more... complex. She looked at her friend. "Now, Luci, play nice."She tolerated Bodhi because she had to, both of them came of family from high regards and Constance knew she had to play nice, at least, around other people. She offered a small and very fake smile towards the girl. "Bodhi. Happy dark baptism."

Bodhi’s stare was laced with venom as it settled on Lucia. She looked back with a brazen smile, giving a cheeky little wave and a wink as Bodhi gave a curt and reluctant acknowledgement to Constance. Neo gave neither of them any notice, not that Lucia expected otherwise. The woman barely acted like she existed in their own dorm room, but it didn’t stop Lucia from offering her a smile. When Desdemona’s eyes lingered on hers, Lucia felt her lips fall into a devilish smirk. She knew the disdain the woman held for her. Usually Lucia would enjoy evoking such an ugly emotion from someone with such little effort, however given Desdemona’s status and family, Lucia couldn’t take her normal route of dealing with such pests. Besides, Constance wouldn't have it.

The twins were a different story for the blonde witch, Emrys was someone she tolerated. She didn't mind him other than when he swooped Luci away leaving Constance to entertain herself until they had finished pissing of Desdemona in their own special and phallic way. And then there was, Des. Constance smirked as she noticed Luci and Des pretty throwing daggers at one another. She knew her companion despised her, but Constance couldn't. Des was, as Constance called her, her favorite little opponent at the academy. Not that she let Luci really know that, she didn't need the small woman complaining about it. She heard enough about her disdain for Bodhi. Constance looked Desdemona in her own way and with a wink as the two groups walked passed one another.

Catching herself before her gaze drifted to Emrys, Lucia felt her chest tighten. She wasn’t used to having to be careful around him, for so long they’d been are lease for one another. There was comfort in the distance they had between them, but now she’d crossed a line and saw something she wasn’t meant to. Unfiltered rage.

She looked over her shoulder as they passed the group, lingering her stare on Emrys until they turned down a hall and out of sight. A part of her wondered if he caught a glimpse of her too, if there was still heaven’s smite in his eyes. Biting her lip she glanced over to Constance to see if she’d notice the shift in Lucia’s energy. She hadn’t seen Constance since witnessing the aftershock of Emrys’ rage, the day of their dark baptism hardly seemed like the day to sit around talking about boys.

Constance raised an eyebrow as she kept her eyes forward. She could feel Luci's sadness from here. "You're sulking. It is our dark baptism, there is no room for sulking and pity parties. Now what'd the Proctors do this time and which one was it?" Before Luci even said anything, Constance was concocting hexes in her head, nothing too bad, but something too bold for anyone other her to put on the High Priest's children. Neither of them scared her and honestly, she didn't really need to reason or an explanation on what they did to her Luci, but it did help.

"Nothing worth lingering on," was all Lucia could think to say. There were no secrets between her and Constance, but this was something else. She told herself she didn't want to burden Constance with such petty issues on such a momentous day, but a piece of her felt a sense of obligation to Emrys to keep his secret. At least for now. "I just want to think about us today, no need to waste time on such trivial matters."

Lucia pulled Constance into the room where she'd been keeping her sacrifice. It was a long-abandoned classroom, covered in a layer in dust and flooded with natural light. She had chosen the room for the windows, large panes that filled the wall facing the Eastern sun - the perfect home for her sacrifice. Student’s had a choice to just be given a sacrifice, but Lucia had been raised differently. Ritualistic magic was in her family’s blood, traditions around it were taught cutting no corners. Lucia had always been taught a sacrifice was only worth what it meant to you. She could have just acquired one the day of, most did. However, Lucia wanted to love her sacrifice, to spoil it and care for it. She wanted her heart to break when she heard the snap of its neck to push her further down the path of darkness.

Sitting in a large, well-kept cage in the window the rat poked his head up as she cooed from across the room. It recognized her, knew she came with treats and affection. She fed the rat a carrot, poking it through the metal grate into its tiny hands. It took the root vegetable greedily, chewing at it faster than he could swallow. He was oversized, fat from lack of exercise and a boundless diet. Her smile was filled with melancholy, her heart suddenly rushed with an overwhelming sense of sadness for the rodent. It only meant her sacrifice would mean so much more. Opening the door to the cage carefully, she lured the rat into her hand. It came readily, curling into her palm as she pulled him into the curve of her chest. Constance looked at the fat vermin with slight disgust before swiping her hand to move a pile of an old wooden desk out of the way of her sacrifice. It wasn't a live animal like Luci but, it was something too brought emotion out her. Unconditional Spite, her specialty. She picked up the medallion by the chain.

Inscribed on the back was the Lamotte family name and the year they got their start in New Orleans. She slightly chuckled as she looked it over, it had been in their family for generations. Pass down all the way her uncle, then stole by her father, who swore to give it to Constance on her Dark Baptism. He treated this necklace like a child. It was what her entire family was after and after it was thought to be lost in Hell with Damien, here it was, now around the neck of the one person the family swore would never have it. It was a shame that no one would be here to see her set it ablaze. But, she'd get over it. She turned back to Luci and ran her long nails through Luci's short bob.

"I don’t know if you sacrificin' a rat of all things is either endearing, sociopathic, or both." She saw the small tinge of sadness in her friends eyes and sighed. Now she had to actually be nice, great."Luci, you've done far worse than snap a small pest's neck for this to be the thing that truly upset you." She knew the girl's process with ritual but, she needed to make sure Luci's sadness wasn’t enough to make her falter in anyway. She ran one finger over the back side of the little pest before lifting Luci's chin to look her in the eyes. "This lil' vermin is the only thing keepin' you from that destiny predicted by the Dark Lord. Remember that when you're up there and snap it's neck. 'sides, it would hurt a Heaven of a lot more if you gave the thing a name." She kissed her forehead.

Lucia closed her eyes with contentment, leaning into Constance. To finally have this day upon them was nothing short of bliss. For so long she’d had it hanging over her head, like a ticking time bomb. Finally, it would come to an end and she could sign herself to the dark lord, then the suspense would at last come to an end. She held the rat so that he was eye level, searching his pointed face. "It is only is a sacrifice if it hurts. It’s meant to cause pain, or else it has no meaning."

It was a phrase she’d heard over and over since she was old enough to listen, albeit in French. She’d offered live sacrifices before, and it would hurt every time. Allowing yourself to become desensitized was prohibited, those who had to numb themselves to endure were weak. After a moment Lucia pulled the rat back into her chest, smiling as it curled up against her.

“Don’t worry, not even Lucifer himself can keep me from signing my name in His book tonight.” Lucia assured Constance, giving Constance a soft kiss on her cheek before linking their fingers with one another again. Her voice had an unnerving cheer, her sinister words contrasting her dulcet tone. “I’d kill a thousand pets, and then some, so long as I get to do it with you.”

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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tamsin reid
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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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roman black
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: Constance Lamotte Character Portrait: Lucia DuBois

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the glutton || outfit || #FD0E53

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“As much as I hate it, I have to go and meet my parents. They’ll be expecting me to speak with them before the ceremony.” Lucia closed the distance between her and Constance, breathing heavy on Constance’s neck. She needed the feeling of closeness, to feel wanted. It was a constant yearning, desperate for physical touch. High-maintenance didn’t begin to cover it. “I will come to you after, meet me at the altar mon cherie?”

Lucia’s nuzzled into the curve of Constance’s neck, hoping her affections would curb the sting. It was no secret Constance’s family history was complicated. If it was up to Lucia she would have been free of her familial burdens a long time ago. However, her parents still had great influence over her life. She may not pass as a loving daughter, but until they could acquire one of those they would settle just for a present one.

“I promise I won’t be long, don’t wait up!” Lucia blew a kiss as she released herself from Constance, waving the rat’s hand with a wink. Admittedly there were other reasons Lucia wanted to excuse herself, namely the little bag of coke still bundled neatly in her cigarette pack. She didn’t feel the need to hide her habits from Constance, but it felt different to take a hit in front of a sober audience. Too much of a performance for her liking.

Locking herself in the bathroom, she set the rat in the sink digging out her cigarette pack to shake out the baggie. It fell into her palm with a few loose cigarettes, she tucked one behind her ear lighting up the second one as she fumbled with the baggie. She stuck her nail into the white powder to scoop enough for a bump. Inhaling roughly, she blocked her opposite nostril making sure no bits lingered behind.

She could feel herself getting distracted by her reflection, piecing her hair and pinching her cheeks. Primping herself for her parent’s live assessment of her appearance. There never failed to be a very loud, critical opinion - their ability to use french allowing them to reach levels of cruelty most reserved for behind closed doors. Lucia had accepted she’d never meet their standards, but they had already done their damage breeding an unhealthy fixation with her image.

Her pupils were slightly dilated, but otherwise she could pass as sober. Truthfully Lucia had stopped trying to be anything more than what people made her out to be. If the people wanted a town drunk, then a town drunk they would get. Whether or not she played the role, it’d be imposed on her. Might as well have fun with it.

When she walked through the doors, eyes shifted towards her with a glimmer of surprise that Constance wasn’t beside her - or rather she beside Constance. Before she met the Southern witch, Lucia had preferred a life in the sidelines. She spent a good portion of her childhood in the spotlight, a child rumored to be of interest to the Dark Lord. When their coven was killed and they fled to the States, it had been a blessing in disguise. The expectation to be something more was finally lifted, here there was enough politics that it didn’t matter that she came from a prominent family in Paris. There were many historic bloodlines that went so deep, the DuBois’ were hardly on anyone’s radar.

Constance plucked her from obscurity. She had seen the potential hovering beneath the surface, watered it and tend to it until it blossomed. Lucia had never been the competitive type, but Constance taught her the fun in it. For so long she had resented practicing magic, preferring to distance herself from the Dark Lord. Constance showed Lucia how to take her anger and channel it, use it to control the world around it. Anger inspired fear, and fear was a powerful motivator - just look at Constance.

Most people in the church were seated, though some stood beside the pews still chatting with others in the coven as they waited for the ceremony to begin. Lucia navigated through the bodies, careful to avoid eye contact on the chance it might provoke someone to wish her a happy baptism. She didn’t want their empty sentiments. Some of them still offered their good wishes, she gave a stiff smile and a nod of acknowledgement and pushed past them.

Sois sage,” Her mother said, grabbing Lucia’s arm roughly to pull her between either parent. Lucia pulled her arm from her mother’s grip, resisting the urge to glare.

Maman, I am behaving.”

Her mother ignored Lucia switching to English, carrying on in French. “We are outsiders in this coven, you will behave and you will be grateful to those who chose to wish you well. Honestly Lucia, you’d think you were raised in a barn. This is what you choose to wear? You couldn’t even find a nice white cardigan or something, you had to wear this cheap tacky jacket to the church? Take this off. Give it to me, I’ll hold onto it. What is this doing in your hair?!”

Her mother threw the cigarette she had tucked behind her ear onto the floor, kicking it out of sight. Lucia had spent her entire life dealing with her mother’s overbearing nature, it’s probably what made Constance feel like home to her. She knew better than to stoke the flames, easier to let them burn out. She slid her jacket off her shoulders fishing the pack of cigarettes from her pocket before tossing the jacket to her mother without another word. Her father quirked an eyebrow, inspecting her dress.

“Is this the dress we bought you?” He asked, already knowing the answer.

“No,” Lucia said, looking down to her dress to smooth the fabric across her silhouette. The dress they sent was hideous, burying her body in poorly tailored fabric. “The one you sent didn’t fit.”

He knew when she lied, though her father had a talent for picking his battles - unlike her mother. She pinched at the fabric of Lucia’s dress, scowling. Lucia had prepared for this, the eventual dissection of her appearance. If they could pick how she wore her hair and dressed every day they would.

“This dress covers nothing.” Said her mother, trying to hide her scowl from others in the church.

“Why couldn’t you wear the dress we bought you?” Her father added.

“Well I wanted to go naked, but I guess that’s against the rules - so this seemed like the next best thing.” Lucia quipped, looking down to the rat in her hands to avoid eye contact with either parent. They gave each other a look she recognized all too well, frustration. Leaning against the pew behind her, she drifted her eyes over the room to search for Constance. She had become better than family to Lucia, one of the few who had come to wholly accept her. Everyone thought she was some injured bird they had to nurse to health, Constance saw her for who she was. Her parents had been trying to fix her for years - Lucia was tired of playing the broken daughter.

“We are lucky this place ever accepted us, the least you could have done was wearing something respectable to what’s meant to be your union with the Dark Lord.” Her mother said under her breath, picking at Lucia’s dress as if she might be able to stretch the fabric to cover more skin. Lucia swatted her mother’s hands away, smoothing out the fabric of her dress.

“I’ve got to go, the ceremony will be starting soon.” Lucia said before either parent could start up again, they would complain about the dress until they collapsed with exhaustion if she let them. They would speak in French to assure that no one would hear them verbally tearing apart their only daughter until there was nothing left, wishing they could re-mold her in their image. She gave her parents a kiss on either cheek, out of ritual rather than genuine affection.

“Behave, girl.” Her father said. It was a wish, they stopped making demands a long time ago. Easier to use guilt to manipulate her. She was weak against them, breaking easily beneath familial obligations. Giving a nod, she gripped her father’s hand reassuringly. They had their own frustrations but they’d had a better way of navigating their relationship into adulthood. He didn’t nitpick at Lucia’s appearance nearly as specifically as her mother did, so that was a bonus.

Lucia tucked her cigarettes under her garter, gauging if she had the time to slip out for one more cigarette. Constance would have her neck if she was late, but Lucia needed a smoke after that interaction. Navigating through the witches and warlocks that lined the walls, she stepped out onto the church steps lighting her last cigarette as a free witch. She was the first to arrive out of those signing their name to the dark lord tonight, it felt like all eyes were on her.

She walked around to the behind the church, hoping to avoid the empty blessings the witches and warlocks wished her. American covens were so rooted in decorum and traditions, it was all a little exhausting for a foreigner - even after all these years. Most of the rituals and ceremonies Lucia had been to while growing up were the ones where the only speaking was incantations. She detested strangers coming to her wishing her happy baptism when they both knew they couldn’t give a fuck about the other.

A flash of fur out of the corner of her eye caught her attention, Pascal sniffing the ground with determination as he approached Lucia. Most of the blood that had been on his maw this morning had faded, though some of it still stained his fur. She had hoped he would find her before the ceremony, it felt juvenile but she wanted him with her when she signed her name in the book. She placed the rat atop her shoulder, squatting down to give his neck a rough pet, the fox barely looking up at her still sniffing the ground intently.

“Come on. Come all this way just to ignore me?” She teased him, grabbing his face with both hands to try to turn him to face her. Wriggling from her hold, the fennec fox forced his snout into the ground. He kicked the ground as if he meant to dig before letting out a sharp bark.

“What has got into you?” Lucia furrowed her brow, watching Pascal with confusion. No matter how wound up he might be, he always melted like butter in his hands. Like her, he was needy for affection. For something to distract him enough to pull away from her was strange. She could feel a sense of anxiety rising inside him, leaching into her through their tether.

He barked at the ground louder, digging furiously then stopping to shove his snout around in the loose dirt before barking rabidly at the church. Lucia stomped her foot, her voice taking a rare authoritative tone. “Pascal, stop!”

The fox froze, looking between her and the church before giving a whine. Lucia bit her lip, chewing it gently - a habit when she was deep in thought or worried. A juvenile comfort, a fixation. Sometimes she’d do it as she would drift into sleep, like a baby with their pacifier. Seeing Pascal act so out of character made her ill at ease, it wasn’t like him to behave like this.

She squatted down, beckoning him to her. “Come, come here my little biscuit.”

Pascal seemed to be considering it for a moment, looking between her and the church before tucking his tail between his legs to run in full sprint back into the woods. Furrowing her brow as she watched him scamper off, Lucia frowned. He had always been erratic, but this was different. She could feel his anxiety. Her arms wrapped across her torso, it felt like they were the only things keeping her upright.

She realized the rat was attempting to nest in her hair, picking up the creature to cradle it in her hands again. It curled up in her palms, calmed by her touch. Smiling sweetly down at the rodent, she was reminded that tonight was a sacred night. Nothing could damper her night, not her parents and not Pascal’s temper tantrum.

“Very well, let’s go do this.” She whispered to the Rat, holding him in her hands like an offering he was heading back into the church.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Tamsin Reid Character Portrait: Dorian Fawkes Character Portrait: Constance Lamotte Character Portrait: Casper Reid Character Portrait: Isaac Courtney Character Portrait: Taylor Montgomery Character Portrait: John Ito

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

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John sighed in a reluctant, almost giving up fashion. "I'll sign the Book," he said giving in. "I haven't come up with a Baptismal name yet, though. Maybe it will come to me when I get there."

Dorian's fingers lightly tapped the bottle of absinthe. "It's not quite as big of a deal as they make it sound. It's like Catholics with their confirmation names. You choose a name for a single occasion, to then promptly forget it and never use it again." He gave a slight smile with a shrug of his left shoulder. "Mine is Xavier, not that that helps much."

There was a moment of silence before John took the bottle of absinthe and poured himself another glass, offering to do the same for Dorian. He nodded his head in silent acknowledgement to gain a refill before John spoke. "How about you, Dorian? Do you need me to cover for you?"

The question took him by surprise, causing his blood to run cold. He couldn't see his own reflection but imagined he had gone pale. His palms grew clammy as he clutched the shot glass searching for words. Before he could speak, John continued. "What has your nerves rattled? I know we don't typically... share these things, but if we can't escape signing the book, we will still be there to help each other. You can trust me, Dorian. I am the last person to judge anyone here for anything, I think."

Dorian downed the shot as his mind search for an appropriate response. Part of him wished to divulge the truth to someone so then maybe, if for a moment, he'd be able to breathe. But out of everyone at the Academy, he felt like John would be the last person he'd tell the truth to, considering he is a Godly man. He was one of his few friends, and it scared him about what the truth would do to him. "I appreciate it. But... if I told you, you wouldn't look at me the same."

After another long silence, and one final shot, Dorian pushed off the bar and stood slowly. "We might as well get this over with." He gave a slight smile while patting John on the shoulder. He then motioned his head in the general direction of the desecrated church. "Don't make me do this alone. If you tap out, you better warn me so I can disappear too." This time he gave a genuine laugh before turning and heading towards the door.




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tamsin reid
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"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."

Tamsin laughed as she pulled out another cigarette and lit it. "Yeah, and I'm a fairy princess."

“There’s a reason that witch sounds eerily similar to bitch.” She snorted back a laugh as she took a drag from her cigarette. Ain't that the truth.

Tamsin kept her gaze fixed on the male as he made his way across from them and began to sit. “Isaac Courtney.”

Tamsin Reid, your local immortal," she said, pointing her thumb toward her chest. "And Taylor Montgomery, soon to be book signer." Tam motioned her index and middle finger that held her smoke towards Taylor, being sure to introduce themselves. At least she was a little bit polite... a little.

“I once knew a relation of her’s," Isaac said returning the conversation to Constance. Wouldn't she be happy to know that the conversation revolves around her even when she wasn't here. But the way that he held her gaze, almost intently made Tamsin furrow her brows slightly. It was like a silent communication. Like he was trying to get her to see something that only she could see. It gave her a strange yet familiar knot in her gut. But she said nothing nor acted on it.

“I merely wished to know if she shared the same disposition.”

"Oh, she is... But finding a nice witch is far harder than finding a bitchy one."

Then, Isaac turned his attention toward Taylor. “I’m hardly new, though that’s a matter of semantics.” The comment made Tamsin purse her lips in thought as her mind tried to connect the pieces. There was no way it could have been him, could it? “Tamsin likes to thinks she knows everything about everyone.”

And then it hit her. It was Raphael, or Johannes, or whatever the hell he continues to go by. It didn't matter. She lost track of how many years it had been since they had last seen one another, but he hadn't lost is taste for testing her nerves. It was one of his favorite past times after all. She squinted her eyes toward him in a mocking fashion. "Well, I'd wager I know more about the people on this island than you. The benefits of a curse that keeps me in one place."

She tried remaining as vague as she could, without seeming more than just Tamsin banter to Taylor or anyone else who might have over heard. But they both spoke on a level that each other understood, that kept others at bay. It worked. And regardless of how many times he tried to get on her nerves, he was the one companion she had going through life with this curse. Her immortal companion through an endless life.

Isaac then moved to his feet and gestured towards the door. “Now it’s time to, in the words of Tamsin, watch witches make the worst decision of their lives.”

Tamsin collected her things and shoved them into her purse, preparing to head toward the desecrated church. She carefully unraveled Chesare from around her leg and draped him across her shoulders, then stood up. Just as she made her way toward Isaac, Casper came bursting through the door like the flash. In such a rush, he ran into the back of Isaac and gave him a rushed apology. He tried to catch his breath before looking towards Tamsin, holding out his hands as if trying to block her from exiting the room.

"Grandma Ophelia's here." Tamsin quirked a brow, her curiosity peaked. She was tempted to smirk but didn't. It was well known that everyone in the Reid family, other than Casper hated her guts and looked at her as a stain on the Reid family name. Her niece Ophelia was no different. Perhaps the worst of them all. "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."

"I have to go or Father Proctor will have my head." She sighed softly. Tamsin would love to cause a scene and ruffle their feathers. But on the other hand she knew how much Casper tried to keep that at bay. "I'll try to disappear in the crowd and hide with my new friend Isaac."

After reassuring Casper a couple more times, she hurried him out the door so he didn't keep their family waiting. "Sorry about my cousin. He means well... the rest of my family, not so much." Tamsin then hooked her arm with Isaac's making sure he was pulled close to her so she could speak quiet enough for only him to hear. "You have shitty timing, you know that?"