0
followers
follow

Dorian Fawkes

The Charlatan

0 · 559 views · located in The Academy of Unseen Arts

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

Description

Image
Image Image Image
xxxD O R I A N x F A W K E S
xxxxxxxxxxxβ€’ x f r a u d x β€’ x f r a u d a t i o x β€’ x \ ˈ f r Θ― d \ x β€’





"I don't know what you're talking about."
- Dorian Fawkes




Imagexxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
Image

n i c k n a m e s x // x none that he knows of

a g e x // xtwenty eight

g e n d e r x // xmale

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

o r i g i n x // xbirmingham, england 1991

r o l e x // xguardian of the eighth circle






Image
Image
ImageImagexxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx


D E C O R U S


h e i g h t x // x6' 1"

w e i g h t x // x145 lbs

h a i r x // xDorian likes to keep himself well groomed. His dark brown, nearly black hair is kept fairly short but long enough to coif. It's rare to see him with facial hair and if he has any it's a 5 o'clock shadow at most that he'll quickly shave.

e y e s x // xHis eyes are a light shade of grey that contrast his dark complexion. On closer examination, they have a slight hint of blue around the outer edge of the iris.

o d d i t i e s x // xThis would depend on one's definition of an oddity, because Dorian is a walking oddity. But in terms of scars or tattoos, he has none, nor does he want any, wanting to keep himself from identifying features.

a p p e a r a n c e x // xIt could be said that Dorian falls under the tall dark and handsome stereotype, although his attractiveness is a little more odd and foreign. He's quite tall and lanky, but also his frame is very slender. And no matter how much he trained himself out of his British ways, Dorian still remains to have impeccable posture and poise. He always keeps himself well groomed, never being a fan of looking unkept or messy. His hair is always styled, face freshly clean and attire that is on point. He's the type of guy who prefers to be well dress, even his casual still bordering on a more business casual. Last he checked, Dorian is unsure if he even owns a pair of jeans or a T-shirt. He's always been rather classy which perfectly matches his poised and polite nature.






Image
Image Image
Image
Image Image
Image
x
x
Imagexxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx

I N G E N I U M
xxxxxxxxxxxxβ€’ x a b i l i t y x β€’ x \ Ι™ - ˈ b i - l Ι™ - t Δ“ \ x β€’


h a l l u c i k i n e s i s x // x With the presence of the guardian's soul, Dorian can control what others perceive. He can control illusions, manipulate what people see and hear, causing strong hallucinations. This ability is strongest through physical contact, it can extend to others as well but loses strength the more it extends to. Without the physical connection his influence is minor, only able to create sounds or mirage like illusions for a brief moment.


N O T A
xxxxxxxxxxxxβ€’ x f a m i l i a r x β€’ x \ f Ι™ - ˈ m i l - y Ι™ r \ x β€’


p e a r l x // x Dorian's familiar takes on the form of a chameleon who often likes to hide in various pockets of his clothing. She is no bigger than the palm of his hand, very calm and shy, not liking to be near anyone other than Dorian.


F O R T I T U D O
xxxxxxxxxxxxβ€’ x s t r e n g t h x β€’ x \ ˈ s t r e Ε‹ ( k ) t h \ x β€’


l y i n g x // x Over the past several years, Dorian has had to lie about... Well, everything. His past, what he did, who he is. At this point it's almost too easy for him.

a c t i n g x // x For a long while, he was able to escape his past but eventually he had to accept that Percival had to die. Since then, everything about him as been an act, down to his appearance, mannerisms and even accent. It took some time, but he eventually mastered being someone entirely different.

i l l u s i o n s x // x Dorian has a special knack for glamours or minor illusions that helped throw the Church of Night authorities of his track. He'd use them in a flash to change his appearance, or quickly mislead those pursuing him.



I N F I R M I T A T E
xxxxxxxxxxxxβ€’ x w e a k n e s s x β€’ x \ ˈ w Δ“ k - n Ι™ s \ x β€’


r e c o r d x // x This is the golden ticket. With that knowledge, someone could blackmail him into doing just about anything. Because with that truth out, his life as he knows it is over.

t r u t h x // x He spends every waking moment hiding from it, just for one slip up or mistake to show a crack in the facade. If anyone were to get even the smallest fraction of an idea, they'd have all the power over him.

r e l a t i o n s h i p s x // x Any kind of connection with another person is dangerous. When he's around those he cares about, he lets his guard down... And the truth could easily slip out. It's easier to not let others get too close to him.



M E T U M
xxxxxxxxxxxxβ€’ x f e a r x β€’ x \ ˈ f i r \ x β€’


b e i n g x c a u g h t x // x Dorian has a dark past with many marks against him that would quickly get him put on trial before the Witch Council and executed. It terrifies him and deep down, he knows one day it'll catch up with him.

t r u t h x // x It's unavoidable, but the effect it would have on those around him... It scares him. He fears the day that when those around him look at him as a traitor, a murderer or worse... Don't look at him at all.

h i s x i n n e r x d e m o n x // x Dorian knows what he did, but part of himself is still in denial hoping that the charade of Dorian Fawkes could hide his truth, bury it away from the world. But being brought face to face with what he did is something he never hopes to happen. Because on that day he feels he'll lose what humanity is left in him.





ImageImage
Image
Image
Image
Imagexxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx


P E R S O N A L I T A T E
xxxxxxxxxxxxβ€’ x loner x β€’ x introvert x β€’ x polite x β€’ x mysterious x β€’


Dorian’s path had not been an easy one, and he knows it’s his own doing. It’s been an uphill trek for many years now and until recently, he hasn’t had a moment’s respite. Being a criminal always on the move, he hasn’t had the luxury of making friends. Although, he has hopefully found a place where he can stay, Dorian’s heads aren’t so high in the clouds to think that it could be that easy. It not only keeps himself safe, but also protects anyone who might befriend him from the pain of learning who he really is… when the inevitable truth comes out.

He’s always been on the more shy and introverted side, keeping to himself even when he wasn’t on the run from the law. That’s not to say Dorian doesn’t desire friends or companionship, but it doesn’t hurt when it comes to keeping himself a bit removed from those around him. But being more quiet, doesn’t mean he isn’t a kind or caring person. When someone actually gets him to speak, he actually enjoys conversing about hobbies, passions and anything else. Sometimes even forgetting his own secret when deep enough in thrilling conversation, which can become pretty dangerous if he doesn’t watch himself.

Dorian was raised on manners, surprising when the truth of his upbringing… or rather Percival’s, is that he grew up in an orphanage. He is always the person to say please or thank you, open the door for others or let them before him in any line. He has a sincere humbleness to him, where it genuinely makes him happy to be polite and considerate to others. Some could consider it brown nosing, and maybe to some extent he’d rather be friendly to everyone so they wouldn’t even consider him capable of murder. But the truth is, it is just his nature… Which maybe makes his own truths hard for even himself to believe.

He never prided himself on being a mysterious person, nor did he ever want to be. Dorian knew it was the only way to try to have a new life before the Witch Council found him out. He always believe in the idea of making lies as true as possible, but even that is a difficult challenge in his predicament. So he inevitably comes off more mysterious. Dorian has a talent of diverting questions and conversations back on the other person so he doesn’t have to divulge too much about himself. But eventually, that won’t even be enough.






ImageImage
x
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx

H I S T O R I A R U M


Dorian… Wasn’t always Dorian. The truth of the matter is that Dorian only came into being two years prior. No records of Mr. Fawkes exist before that, no matter how deeply someone were to look into it. His real name was Percival Burroughs. Many things about him were different then, most things.

Percival grew up in Birmingham, England. He was raised in an orphanage for most of his young life. His parents died or disappeared when he was a babe. There was never any concrete evidence into what exactly happened to his parents, but all that was known is that they vanished into thin air. Any records of them show no map to what happened, no doubt the truth of his parentage causing to the cover up, whatever it may be. Mortals never know anything when it comes to the disappearances of Witches or Warlocks.

Growing up an orphan is never easy for any child and in particular Percival. He was an odd boy, scraggly who kept to himself, often the target for bullying. So, it was lucky for him when he was fifteen, a mysterious woman came to the orphanage and spirited him away to the Birmingham Academy of Unseen Arts. Once the truth about who he was came to light, it was as easy as breathing for Percival to embrace the Academy. Then when he turned sixteen, he signed his name into the book of the beast and never looked back… Until he met Evelyn.

She was a mortal girl who worked at a small book store in Coventry. Percival knew the laws, just like any other Witch or Warlock, but he was drawn to her unlike anyone he’d met before. Nearly every weekend, he’d take a train to Coventry to see her. They’d spend hours walking through town, talking about books or whatever else they pleased.

Percival began dating her in private and quickly declared his love for her. He was so infatuated with Evelyn, that he told her his secret. And to his surprise, she was not scared but embraced him for who he was. He was willing for forsake the Path of Night to run away with her, and start a new life far from the Church of Night, Witches and Lucifer.

But being blinded by his love and his haste, Percival got sloppy. As he began to make plans and prepare everything for them to leave over the following weeks, Oliver, a detestable Warlock at the Academy started to notice the signs. He never like Percival, often trying to degrade him for being an orphan or not growing up in the Church of Night since he was a boy.

One day, Oliver followed Percival to Coventry and found out the truth behind his frequent disappearances. He waited for Percival to leave, then let himself into Evelyn’s home. The next day, he returned to Evelyn with bags in hand ready to leave, only to find her dead on the floor, while Oliver sat in a chair beside her, smoking a cigarette with blood stained hands.

Oliver had began his speech of how being with a mortal was dishonorable and against the law, spewing on about how she was inferior and beneath them. But Pervical was blinded by rage. He blacked out and once he came too, there were two corpses in the small flat.

The crime of murdering another Witch was punishable by death. Percival had no choice but to run. He moved around the world for nearly three years but no matter where he went, from France to South Africa, the church of night found him. His last encounter with them, he barely escaped. With no choice left, he booked passage to America and abandoned any memory of Percival Burroughs and the life he had.

Dorian Fawkes, a 25 year old transfer student from Spokane, Washington. His parents saved up what money they could to send him to the best school in the country, the New York Academy of Unseen Arts. A simple false life, made for a simple lie. He trained himself to lose his accent and with some studying, he found a sufficient glamour spell. Instead of being over the top, Dorian kept it simple changing his appearance just enough so that he looked like a different man, rather than the wanted posters of Percival Burroughs posted in every Coven’s Sanctum.






Imagexxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
Imagexxx
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
B O D H I x K R I S H N A N
"No matter where I go, someone knows me. I can only hope she doesn't discover who I am."


β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…
xdislike xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx like

Back when Dorian was Percival, him and Bodhi attended the same Academy in the U.K. Then... Then he killed her boyfriend Oliver. When Dorian finally arrived at the NY Academy, he thought, for the first time he might be free of his past, until he saw her in the halls. She doesn't recognize him, but he can sense her curiosity and fears for the day when she discovers that he was the one to kill her boyfriend.


Imagexxx
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
B O N E S x B U R R O U G H S
"I honestly don't much about him beyond his name."


β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…
xdislike xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx like

Dorian doesn't go out of his way to make friends. Partly because he's introverted but also for fear of his lies being found out and the truth making its way to the surface. Bones has never gone out of his way to talk him and vice versa.




Imagexxx
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
C O N S T A N C E x L A M O T T E
"She does think highly of herself."


β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…
xdislike xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx like

Dorian knows her reputation and lack for anyone's own privacy or what have you. He has no desire to be friendly in the slightest with her. He'll be polite if they have to interact, but otherwise he avoids her like the plague.




Imagexxx
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
M I C H A E L x N A V A R R O
"A brief quote in your character's voice about the other character."


β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…
xdislike xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx like

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


Imagexxx
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
W I N I F R E D x B L A N C H A R D
"A brief quote in your character's voice about the other character."


β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…
xdislike xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx like

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


Imagexxx
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
C A S P E R x R E I D
"A brief quote in your character's voice about the other character."


β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…
xdislike xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx like

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


Imagexxx
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
J O S E P H I N E x J A I Y E N
"She tries, but it doesn't work."


β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…
xdislike xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx like

It seems that the more mysterious and secretive you are at this Academy, the more people pry and try to figure you out. Josephine is no different in that regard and on more than one occasion she's tried to piece together Dorian, but he simply remained vague and talked circles around her. It's only a matter of time before she tries again.



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


β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…
xdislike xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx like

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


Imagexxx
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
I S A A C x C O U R T N E Y
"A brief quote in your character's voice about the other character."


β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…
xdislike xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx like

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


Imagexxx
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
I V Y x B I S H O P
"A brief quote in your character's voice about the other character."


β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…
xdislike xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx like

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


Imagexxx
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
L U C I A x D U B O I S
"A brief quote in your character's voice about the other character."


β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…
xdislike xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx like

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


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


β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…
xdislike xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx like

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


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


β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…
xdislike xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx like

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


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


β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…
xdislike xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx like

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


Imagexxx
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
R O M A N x B L A C K
"A brief quote in your character's voice about the other character."


β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…
xdislike xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx like

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


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


β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…β–…
xdislike xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx like

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





h e x c o d e x // x #8BA3A6 x // x f a c e c l a i m x // x matthew bell x // x c r e a t o r x // x mjolnir x // x c s x // x mjolnir

So begins...

Dorian Fawkes's Story

Characters Present

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

0.00 INK

#, as written by mjolnir
Image

dorian fawkes
the charlatanx|xoutfitx|x#8BA3A6

Image
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
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.




Image

tamsin reid
cursed witchx|xoutfitx|x#000000

Image
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
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.





Image

roman black
the lecherx|xoutfitx|x#AC945A

Image
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
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: Dorian Fawkes Character Portrait: Winifred Blanchard Character Portrait: Michael Navarro Character Portrait: Ivy Bishop Character Portrait: Roman Black

0.00 INK

#, as written by stxlla
Image

michael navarro
the heretic | outfit | #87975C

Image
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
Michael was surprised he had even slept at all. The gnawing feeling of the signing had been eating him alive all week, but somehow by the grace of God The Dark Lord he was able to sleep soundly for a few hours. He stirred lightly as the sound of Dorian's shuffling awoke him and he waited until he heard the bathroom door close and the shower turn on before slowly propping himself up in bed, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. When he was absolutely sure Dorian was preoccupied he leaned his body over the bed, sticking his hand blindly under as he felt around for the loose board. When his hand bumped into the corner sticking out he quietly moved the board over and grabbed the small box inside.

Anxiety slowly creeped into him, as it aways did when he got the box out. You never know who was truly watching you at any moment at the Academy - but this really couldn't wait. Mitch sat up in bed, scooting up until he felt the backboard press against his shoulder. The box was small, perhaps the size of a small compact wristlet, ornately decorated with jewel toned patterns and small encrusted gems along the top. It had belonged to his mother. Mitch reached above his head feeling along the top of the headboard until his finger brushed against the tip of the nail that awkwardly stuck out from the wood. He had unfortunately discovered the bastard while trying to reach for his Demonology book that he had dropped behind his bed. Mitch pressed the pad of his thumb against the nail slowly, until he felt the familiar sharp sting drawing his hand back quickly. He stared at the small scarlet drop of blood that began to bloom on his finger before pressing it against the box where the lock used to lay. Michael had asked his Aunt Penelope years back on how to lock a box, when she asked the reason he lied saying that Dorian had been getting in his things. If she only knew him. His Aunt graciously taught him the small spell and it brought some of the weight off of his shoulders. Only his blood could unlock it, so even if someone had happened to poke around the loose boards under his bed they still wouldn't be able to open it. A foolproof plan, he had hoped.

Michael felt small pop as it clicked open in front of him, at first the contents seeming rather harmless. Laying inside the velvet lined box were three items - items that could potentially get him killed. Or worse. The first was a small photo of his mother, a grand smile on her face with her arms around a young Michael. He picked it up gently, as if mere touch might make it disintegrate in his hand. Mitch's eyes softened as he ran a finger over the waxy film, he remembered that day so fondly. His mother had picked him up early from school for his birthday taking him to his favorite pastry shop, La Pastisseria, for some mantecados. They spent the rest of the day in the park until the sun stole them away to watch El Chavo del Ocho on the couch til he fell asleep. How he missed his mother, there was never a day he didn't, but the guilt had begun to chip away at him. What would she think if she saw him now? About to sign his life away to Satan himself. Mitch pushed the thought far away in his head placing the photo gingerly back in the box. He glanced at the two most incriminating items in the box - a small pocket bible and a cross necklace.

Mitch tried, several times throughout the years to get rid of the box. But he never could bring himself to do it. It was a part of himself that he never wanted to lose, more than anything he never wanted to be his father. He couldn't deny however that as the days rolled by he seemed ever closer to that dark truth. Michael would get rid of the box, today. He had promised himself that he would do it more than once throughout the week. After all, once he signed his name what point would he have for it anyway. Mitch glanced once more at the smiling face of his mother before closing the box quickly, he couldn't bare to look at her face any longer. The guilt was too much.

At the sound of the shower turning off, his heart leapt out of his chest and he quickly shoved the box under the bed in its little crook placing the board back in place. The second he settled himself back into bed the door opened and he gave a half-smile to Dorian trying to ignore the sound of his heart pounding in his head. "Morning" He said as coolly as possible sliding himself out of bed and walked past Dorian into the bathroom, not even realizing he had been holding his breath. If he had half the mind to pay attention he might of noticed his roommate was just as equally as distressed.

After a long shower and a change into his annoying bright white ensemble Mitch felt a tad more at ease. He had opened the window to their dorm for Barclay and it didn't take long for the hawk to swoop in perching on his bedpost. Mitch affectionally smoothed the feathers on the hawks wings as Dorian spoke drawing his attention. To answer Dorian's question he had indeed thought about it, several times. The correct answer would be to change his name in its entirety, to rid himself of his past and start anew. Not to mention its uncanny tie to the Catholic Church. Mitch was quiet for a moment, as if lost in his own thoughts, before he spoke surprising himself. "Victor" He spoke the name as if he was just trying it for the first time. It was for his mother, Victoria. Michael didn't spare much explanation to Dorian, that was one thing he liked about his roommate. Dorian asked no questions, and Michael did the same in return.

After a small moment of silence, he smiled softly back at Dorian. "I think Pearl has good taste". He gave one more affectionate pat to Barclay and walked around the bed sitting down to face his roommate. "What do you think will happen to us?" He realized how ominous and ambiguous his question sounded, and even though he meant it that way added on to it, to seem less fearful. "I mean, have you ever seen a Dark Baptism before?"







Image

winifred blanchard
the temptress | outfit | #BF5F28

Image
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
xxx
Winifred sat poised as usual at her vanity, gently powdering her nose when Tasmin chucked her alarm clock across the room where it splintered into a thousand pieces. Winnie was so used to it at this point the girl didn't even flinch. "Good morning Sleeping Beauty" A hint of teasing in her voice as she glanced at her roommates disheveled appearance through her mirror. The vanity was a new addition. Her mother had it shipped at her request, she had nearly run out of room for all her things in the bathroom and she feared Tamsin would kill her if she took up anymore room.

"Tas, I reminded you yesterday!" She called over her shoulder as the witch stomped her way into the bathroom. Winnie shook her head with a small giggle and turned back to her reflection in the mirror. Everything about her was calculated down to the core, if it wasn't perfect, it wasn't Winnie. Her coppery-red hair fell in effortless waves down her back, and her makeup although light accentuated her full lips and arched brows. Apart from her normal ensemble of reds and blacks, she insisted on picking a dainty, pale yellow, chiffon dress that she had order a month back. It was elegant and perfect for the Dark Baptisms.

Winifred stood up from her vanity, and walked over to her bed where she had laid down a few bracelets and rings to try on and pick. As she ran her hand along a golden cuff, a warm smile appeared on her face as she heard Roman's voice. She closed her eyes as he planted a soft kiss on her cheek, taking the moment to envelope herself in his warmth. Winnie turned to face him, not even hiding the fact that she took a second to look him over before meeting his eyes. "You know, I always thought the all white was a little tacky but - you really put it off love"

Winifred rolled her eyes at his comment about Tamsin, "you think all that sleep would make her a little more cheery". With her incredibly perfect timing Tamsin begrudgingly stumbled back into the room, scowling at Roman's presence. Winnie quite enjoyed their back-to-back banter, Roman was never afraid to push Tamsin's buttons. But, neither was Winnie. As the two exchanged insults, she busied herself with settling on a few pieces of jewelry, fastening on a thick gold bracelet with matching earrings. Winnie finally turned her attention back to Tas only to be lectured about sex, typical. The witch acted as if they were rabbits in heat for satan's sake. Besides, Tamsin clearly had no idea how long it took Winifred to curl her hair this morning. Winifred barely had time to even tell her roommate bye before the door closed behind her. She flicked her gaze back to Roman a small sigh on her lips. "Isn't she just a delight?"

She made her way over to her closet, which in her opinion was too damn small even after she had Ivy use an expansion charm on it. Winnie sifted through her shoes - she had enough for a small village - until she settled on a pair of black Louboutins. Sitting on the trunk at the edge of her bed, she began to put her heels on glancing over her shoulder back to Roman. "I would hate to ruin your outfit on your special day, Darling. And if I don't have you to admire during the ceremony, I don't think I could sit through the damned thing" She said standing up after putting on her heels. Making her way back over to the bed she gave him a rather sultry look leaning down towards his ear. "Besides, it would give me more time to think about how I'm going to get it all off of you" She planted a small, lingering kiss on the side of his jaw before pulling away to smile at him once more.

"Of course, I mean there's always doubts, but everybody goes through with it" And Winifred did fully believe that everyone would go through with it. When it boiled down to it, how could they not? "Why? You're not having second thoughts are you love?" She cocked her head to the side slightly, one of her perfectly arched brows raised in question.

A small look of remembrance overtook her face suddenly and she clasped her hands together, her bracelets jingling like a wind chime. "I almost forgot, I got you something!" She dashed over to the trunk at the end of her bed, opening it grabbing a small, perfectly wrapped golden box placing it in his hands. "It's not much, just a small 'graduation' gift" A slight giggle bubbled out of her lips at her own little joke. Inside was a mint condition, 18k gold, 1956 Rolex Ovettone. She knew how much Roman adored vintage fashion and once she thought of it she couldn't resist. It took both her brother's help, a complicated summoning spell, and maybe some arm twisting but she had been excited to give it to him for weeks.

Characters Present

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

0.00 INK

#, as written by mjolnir
Image

dorian fawkes
the charlatanx|xoutfitx|x#8BA3A6

Image
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
"Victor," Michael replied to the presented question.

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

"I think Pearl has good taste."

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

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

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

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

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




Image

tamsin reid
cursed witchx|xoutfitx|x#000000

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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





Image

roman black
the lecherx|xoutfitx|x#AC945A

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Dorian Fawkes Character Portrait: Roman Black Character Portrait: John Ito Character Portrait: Dahlia Bedacholli

0.00 INK

#, as written by mombie
x
Image
x
j o h n x i t o

Image
Image
x
t h e x h e r e t i c
#87975C || Outfit

Image
Just as Dorian opened the door, there was John. He looked a little bit like a hot mess, and his right palm clutched something so tightly that blood pooled in his palm. It leaked onto the floor, and if Dorian would peek just a bit over the man's shoulder, he'd see a few droplets behind him. John pressed his other hand against his roomate's shoulder, moving him aside in the most gentle of manners.

"Let me shower and get dressed and I'll join you. I'm guessing you need a drink just as much as I do," he said after he dipped past him to do just that. He quickly stuffed something under his pillow; his rosary that was passed down to him from his father. There didn't seem to be a God attached to it at all - it was just an object now. It was just an object that he still clung to, and it would appear that he failed to find anything in it during the early hours of the morning.

He trusted Dorian not to pry, and even if the curiosity overwhelmed him, he trusted that he wouldn't flay him limb from limb because of it. So, John left for the shower taking the pristine ivory suit that hung up on the door of his closet with him. He spent quite a long time in the bathroom, and if Dorian would have just left him behind - he wouldn't have blamed him. After all, he had to take care of his hair, go from five o'clock shadow to perfectly shaved. He tugged on his attire, the steam from the shower having smoothed out certain wrinkles, and checked and rechecked himself.

What was going to happen once he signed his name? Would he still retain the person he was? He didn't want to change. Hell, he didn't like change all that much. He was content with himself as he was. For the most part anyhow. There were a lot of things he hated about himself. He loathed this - this lineage devoted to Lucifer and those damned practices that were darker than he could have ever imagined. He didn't like that he was here. It was almost an out of body experience - He, himself, devoted to God was watching some other husk of himself, one devoted to the Dark Father. He's not sure about which entity is actually him anymore - this one or that one. It was confusing. Does he sign the Book of the Beast or does he run far, far away from this place and never look back? What would happen to him if he did? What would happen to the people at this Academy that he's grown fond of? What would they even think of him if they knew the truth? Would that slithering snake of an empty shell murder him as soon as she could get her vicious claws on him?

There were just too many thoughts, and his mind swam with them to the point of drowning. A drink would help. God, it would help so much. Well, fuck... God isn't even listening to him anymore.

He moved out of the bathroom to check and see if Dorian was still around. When his eyes landed on the guy he just gave off a little nod while adjusting the cuffs of his white suit. Virginal, they said. John wasn't a rampant manwhore like Roman, but he wasn't exactly the epitome of virginal virtue, either. The attire looked good on him, so that was that.

John's dog was just downright lazy today. There was no way in Hell that it'd be part of the Dark Baptism, especially since he senses that hesitance from the Warlock. Maybe it was that apprehension that made Max incapable of rousing himself from his master's bed. The lack of enthusiasm was draining, and perhaps he also felt that the decision John would make tonight will also impact him somehow. Just as John doubted, as did Max. He snored away, and John just waved a hand dismissively at him.

"Let's get out of here," he said while he pushed open the door to set them on their way to the rest of their lives. He'd become relatively quiet for the majority of the walk; his eyes cast down to his feet and his thoughts obviously elsewhere. He tucked his hands into the pockets of his trousers. He hadn't even thought of his Baptismal name. He wasn't as prepared as others were because he still just wasn't sure if he could do it. But if God left him, then maybe... just maybe this was the last chance he had to find Faith again.





x
Image
x
d a h l i a x b e d a c h o l l i

Image
Image
x
t h e x s c o u r g e
#C48495 || Outfit

Image
The shower in her room was running, and it was overbearingly hot. The steam slipped through the cracks of the door, slithering along the floor until it simply vanished into thin air. Her soft flesh was reddening, but Dahlia was sort of out of it right now. She had placed a hand on the shower wall in front of her; curving her fingers inward as if grasping at the immovable tiles. That long, long hair clung to her wet body, even as she lowered her head and shut her eyes. She had been done washing long ago, but she was just here - waiting in the searing water to cleanse something. Something that couldn't be cleansed. This place, maybe. It didn't meet her needs. She wanted to go home, but she didn't have a home. The Dark Lord assured her that this would be her home.

Something slithered at her ankles, and it winded up her thigh until it coiled about her stomach and latched to her arm. Then it coiled there and slithered up to her neck. The brown serpent coiled some more, then constricts slightly - just enough to jerk her out of reality. It hissed in her ear. It was like a whisper that only she could understand, and she opened her eyes to turn her cheek toward it. "Presto caro," she assured, her words smoothly rolling along the Italian notes. "È tempo per il Battesimo oscuro." The serpentine creature nodded its head, and just as swiftly as it slithered in, it slithered away. By the time she reached up to turn off the shower, Velena was gone.

She had brought her outfit in with her so that Tamsin wouldn't manage to ruin it somehow. It was a long mermaid dress with a plunging neckline. Sure, she didn't have much breast to truly honor the outfit's purpose, but she was going to make do with it anyway. There were plenty of beautiful dresses in her closet, but this one she had yet to wear. It was a special occasion, after all, to witness those that would sign the Book of the Beast. Perhaps even catch a glimmer of the one he suspects heavily will not. It would feel good to finally be rid of his blasphemous presence - John was like a glaring light in these dark corridors. She has had her eyes on him, and she knows. She knows where he goes to wish for the False God's hand.

She spent time drying her hair first, of course, as to not dampen her attire. It took a while and the blowdryer thankfully tuned out the humdrum of whatever was going on outside of the door. It was good because while Roman and Winifred seduced each other in that not so subtle way, she wanted to rip the girl's throat out from her neck. Yes, that was jealousy reeling its ugly head. Not that she liked Roman in any way, shape or form, but that she had a rather strange attachment to him. So, she took her time so that she wouldn't tear the girl to shreds in front of him, and they could flirt away in seeming peace without her.

Yet, she still managed to slip into her dress and out the door before the pair were done. Luckily, just as they were trying to remove themselves from the room. She must have frightened poor Winifred, as she often does with her eccentric and quiet personality because a dash of red fled the room and that left only Roman; his back toward her and the door still propped open.

"Hello, Di bell'aspetto," she purred out that endearing name of hers for him. It sounds complex and exotic, but it was really just "Handsome". "Apologies for scaring date, but would you be kind to zip me?" After the question slipped from her lips, heavy in her accent, she turned to display to him her back. She'd move her hair so that it would be out of his way because there was a whole lot of it, and it covered her back and bottom in a way that would obstruct his task. She pulled it all over a shoulder and turned to look at him through a side gaze as he proceeded to zip her up.

"Are you ready?" Dahlia inquired, adjusting the sheer fabric that hugged her arms.

Once he was done with that, she turned around to face him. She had to crane her neck slightly to peer up at him, and they locked eyes for a moment. There was a slight tilt of her head and that familiar blank stare accompanied a practiced smile. She looked away and rose to the tips of her toes to smooth out a wrinkle that had formed on his shirt. No doubt from lounging about on Winifred's bed.

"It looks like she wanted to leave early, Roman. Come, I go with you." she insisted in her not so perfect English as she held out an arm for him to take. To accompany him was more of a dutiful thing - one witch to a warlock, as she was used to. They were not each other's keepers, but it would be rude for her to allow him to go on his own.

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

0.00 INK

#, as written by mjolnir
Image

dorian fawkes
the charlatanx|xoutfitx|x#8BA3A6

Image
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
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.




Image

tamsin reid
cursed witchx|xoutfitx|x#000000

Image
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
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.

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

β€œAs 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. β€œThis 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. β€œYou 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.

β€œToo 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. β€œI’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.

β€œWhat’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.





Image

roman black
the lecherx|xoutfitx|x#AC945A

Image
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
"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: Dorian Fawkes Character Portrait: Roman Black Character Portrait: John Ito Character Portrait: Dahlia Bedacholli

0.00 INK

#, as written by mombie
x
Image
x
d a h l i a x b e d a c h o l l i

Image
Image
x
t h e x d e a l m a k e r
#C48495 || Outfit || Location

Image
"You look absolutely ravishing, bella donna," Roman complimented her as his lips found their place tentatively upon Dahlia's knuckles. Most women might fawn over him for such expression of praise coming from a man such as he. However, she knew that she was ravishing already because he had uttered such words before. The more traditional Witch was inclined to say nothing, as it was duty to be appeasing.

When his lips fled her knuckles, she hooked her arm through his, her fingers gently grasping his bicep. They were not each other's keepers, but she could not see her accompanying anyone else to the Desecrated Church. No other Warlock would touch her, and she was neither a friend nor acquaintance to many of her own Witch peers. Roman was not the last resort, of course. He'd always be her first choice regardless of her popularity among the rest of the coven. She didn't still understand what he wanted of her, but she believed that he would bend the knee to the old ways when his name was signed in the Book of the Beast.

Is it an awful thing to hope for that? She wondered this as their steps carried them quietly down the corridors of the Academy. Some Witches and Warlocks change in certain ways after signing their names. The woman's deep chestnut gaze sought him sidelong for only the most fleeting of seconds, a small smile gracing naturally dark rosy lips devoid of other false shades for this special night. She watched the array of expressions that venture across his features and even those that might not. During one brief second, the long crimson nails of another hand stroked quietly at his wrist. Then it all fell away; her fingers, her curious and hopeful eyes. She kept hold of him, of course, until they were at the threshold of the Desecrated Church.

Dahlia released Roman entirely so as to not seem attached to him by others. She wouldn't want to give off any wrong impression, and the man had a reputation to keep. She walked with him, however, her pace keeping in line with his. She'd not speak out of turn, so she stayed in the realm of silence until words were directed to her.

"Roman Black, punctual as always," addressed the Warlock first, of which she had no qualms with. Her hands fell in front of her at the lap of her dress, one folding over the other. Dahlia did not pick up on many social ques, and she didn't care for whatever drama took place at the Academy. Father Proctor, however, was a handsome man to place eyes on. Not that she'd give him some sort of leering gaze while at Roman's side, nor would she ever.

The two men exchange their pleasantries - or the lack thereof - before the High Priest brings Dahlia's knuckles up for a kiss, "We will beginning at sundown. Until then, feel free to mingle. Although Ms. Bedacholli will not be able to accompany you during the ceremony." "Certo, Padre Proctor," she spoke in her native tongue, as it came more easily. Just as swiftly as the Italian words departed, as did the High Priest, and she watched him leave as Roman's mother stepped toward them to impart some last words on her son before his momentous occasion.

"Roman, my love. You look so handsome. I cannot believe the day has finally come," she praised him, complimenting it all with those loving and proud maternal kisses on his cheeks. "I agree. His looks must come from mother," she replies with an obligatory smile. "Dahlia, darling, you look beautiful," came a slightly more unexpected line from Vanessa Black. Surprising because Herbalism was not her best course by any means. Maybe the woman was just being kind, just as Dahlia was. "Grazie, signorina Black," Dahlia thanks her.

She turned her body toward Roman, but is also careful as to not intrude upon his mother's space. After she rolled to the tips of her toes, she placed a departing kiss on the side of his mouth while grasping at him for a little leverage. She whispered something quietly in his ear, "We celebrate later, hmm? Find me." Then she pulled away from him and stepped backward a couple of times before turning around to find a pew to place herself on. She was going to give him and his mother a bit of privacy before the flood of Warlocks and Witches began to fill the space, and he was the social sort. Dahlia was not. He attracted people to him, and she wanted to keep most of them away. It was just for the best.

Her attention all but slipped away; the mother and son interaction melting into the background as her thoughts venture to other places.





x
Image
x
j o h n x i t o

Image
Image
x
t h e x h e r e t i c
#87975C || Outfit || His Room

Image
Dorian was excellent company. In fact, he was the only company that John could stand for more than five minutes. There was one other, but that was a complicated matter. The loneliness of the the Gray Room was welcome because that meant that the two of them could relax without the threat of other Witches and Warlocks breathing down their necks. Many were happy for this day - they had waited for it all their lives, but there was a sense of dread here so thick that it could choke the air out of this room.

As Dorian helped himself to the bar and poured the glasses, John placed himself on a stool. His own tremorous fingers reached for the glass set for him, and they clinked glasses. They both must have locked eyes for a moment. They both wanted to say something to each other, but neither could summon the words that either of them needed to hear. John pulled his shot glass up to his lips, kicked his head back, and let the burning liquid slide hotly down his throat. After Dorian refilled his own, John soon followed and poured himself another. He'd have said something about Dorian's little spill, but honestly - they were both feeling the same anxiety for two different reasons.

"Are you sure you can go through with this?" The question jolted John as the shot glass was pressed to his lips as though the current thought was: should he be drinking? It wasn't a new inquiry, honestly. Not or him. He asked himself this same question so many times that he had lost track of what his answers were. He lost count of all the reasons not to go through with it, or to do so. He forgot how many times he asked God for answers, and then could not conjure the last time he felt his Faith could help him. It was so simple. Wasn't it? He could sign it. He could not sign it. He could choose to do so many things, but this would come back over and over again. He didn't want to give up certain things that he has become used to. If he were honest with himself, God left him a while ago. If He was even there to begin with.

He didn't answer just yet, instead, he finally proceeded to tackle his drink in one swoop. "I can cover for you," Dorian offers.

Broad shoulders rise and fall to the slow cadence of a long, drawn-out and defeated sigh. John's eyes lock with his and he offers up a weak smile and a gentle chuckle. "I'll sign the Book," he relents, but he doesn't sound happy about it. He had hoped for a different path. The one that his parents took. The one that got them both killed. "I haven't come up with a Baptismal name yet, though. Maybe it will come to me when I get there."

He reached for the bottle of Absinthe, offering to pour Dorian's right after his own. "How about you, Dorian? Do you need me to cover for you?" Since they were both talking about conspiring to somehow beat this rite of passage. He leans forward toward him, a forearm sliding along the counter. His head tilts a bit and he traps his friend's gaze with his own. You know, he never really asked what the deal was with his own obvious nerves. They, up to this point, never pried into each other's personal lives. They had glimpses, maybe, of certain things but they never asked too many questions. "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."

That was all, and there didn't seem to be any pressure to entertain his inquiry. There was only a genuine wish to know, at the very least, about what troubles him. John's own conundrum was not so hard to notice if one was astute enough, but he could not pin down Dorian's own source of hesitation.

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

0.00 INK

#, as written by mjolnir
Image

dorian fawkes
the charlatanx|xoutfitx|x#8BA3A6

Image
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
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.




Image

tamsin reid
cursed witchx|xoutfitx|x#000000

Image
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
x
"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."

β€œThere’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. β€œIsaac 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.

β€œI 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.

β€œI 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. β€œI’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? β€œTamsin 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. β€œNow 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?"