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Lucia DuBois

The Glutton

0 · 1,939 views · located in The Academy of Unseen Arts

a character in “Guardians of Hell”, originally authored by Guest, as played by leisurelyatwar

Description

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xxxL U C I A x D U B O I S
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx• x glutton x • x gula x • x ˈɡlətn x •



Tear You Apart - She Wants Revenge
Bad Guy - Billie Eilish
Mercy - Hurts




“Hail Satan”
- Lucia DuBois




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n i c k n a m e s x // x Lulu by her parents, Luci by select few.

a g e x // x25

g e n d e r x // xfemme

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

o r i g i n x // xparis, france, 1994

r o l e x // xguardian






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D E C O R U S


h e i g h t x // x170 cm

w e i g h t x // x59 kg

h a i r x // xdark in a parisian bob

e y e s x // xdarker

o d d i t i e s x // xmarkings on her fingers resembling tattoos. Satanic symbolism perfected by her family to enhance their bloodline's ritual spell casting. scars are light, faded from time – but some remain. Memories of wilder times.

a p p e a r a n c e x // xLucia used to watch the girls and how they dress on the streets of Paris. She loved their fashion, the way they walked. From a young age Lucia had been dazzled by glamour. Fine fabrics and eye-catching fabrics, trendy designs and ascots. Her hair was short, often slightly mussed with a beret poised atop. Lucia loved those beret’s, they made her feel like a girl from a French film – holding a cigarette from painted lips, watching the smoke curl up.

When Lucia walked, she held her chin up. There was nothing that could make her walk with her head low. Her mother would always tell her ”Never give them the satisfaction”. So she never did. No one phased her, or at least her façade. She held herself with grace and confidence. Every motion was fluid, feminine and intentional. She was someone you noticed, maybe watched from afar but never approached. Her cool demeanor could be off putting to others, often not the type to go out and try to make new friends. Some would call her unapproachable, thought that could change after a couple drinks.






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



a b i l i t y x // x meteorokinesis. the ability to manipulate the weather.


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


f a m i l i a rx // x pascal. an arctic fox white as snow, it makes the blood from his prey that much brighter after a fresh kill. a wild thing, unbroken. he spends his days hunting, but always close by. loyal to his master, she is his everything. he comes when called, curling into her arms like a lost kitten. a devoted rascal.


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


s t r e n g t h x // x observant. Many a nights have been spent on a park bench with a box of wine and an old book. Eventually she’d become too drunk to read another line and would just sit on the park bench and watch the people go by. It was amazing how people held themselves when they thought no one was looking. Eventually they all started to look the same, lost and alone. People reveal so much in their motions, and no one pays attention. But Lucia does.

s t r e n g t h x // x charming. Lucia has her way. Sometimes it’s in the touch of an arm, or the well-timed compliment. She is great at playing “the part”, whatever part it is that someone wants her to play. If they want her to lie, she does that. If they want her to stroke their ego, she does that. Lucia isn’t one to let pride get in the way of what she wants.

s t r e n g t h x // x resilient. There was very little that shook Lucia. When you saw true tragedy, the rest is just child’s play. Even if she had everything working against her, Lucia holds her head high. There is nothing short of Satan himself that could stop her from getting what she wanted.



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


w e a k n e s s x // x red wine. Bordeaux is her favorite, though she’s been seen drinking boxed red blend as well. Truth was, any drink would do. Wine just made her feel like a little less of a drunk. She couldn’t remember the last time she went a day without at least a glass.

w e a k n e s s x // x authoritative figures. What can she say? Lucia can appreciate someone who takes charge, uniform is a plus. Lucia’s confidence is often mistaken for bossiness, but she tends to fill the role of reluctant leader when no one else stands up. Not that she’s much of an eager follower – but she doesn’t mind being submissive under the right circumstances.

w e a k n e s s x // x affection. Lucia was a fiend for affection. Her relationships often ended in fire, mostly with her partner exhausted with her incessant neediness. She wants to be held, to be touched…A L W A Y S. She hangs off her friends, always leaning against their shoulder or reaching for their hand. She craved affection like an addict, sometimes looking for it in worst kind of places – or people.



M E T U M
xxxxxxxxxxxx• x f e a r x • x \ ˈ f i r \ x •


f e a r x // x her own impulses. Sometimes Lucia feels like she has no real control over herself. She has a desire, she fulfills it. There’s no such thing as delaying gratification. Sometimes she makes herself sick, unable to stop herself from that last drink or that last bite or that last screw. When she wants something, she goes for it, if she wants to do something, she does it. This leads her into nothing but trouble and self-destruction.

f e a r x // x humans. her family fled Paris from witch hunters, her brother dying fighting them off as she and her parents fled. There is nothing more terrifying than realizing no magic can save you. She once considered humans to be harmless, but she realized any one of them could be manipulated by fear becoming creature of hate. Lucia doesn’t have any malice for humans, but she’s very distrustful of them.

f e a r x // x fate. She’s destined for something, or so she’s been told all her life. Her life was never hers, Lucifer made that very clear. It’s all been leading to this moment, the unknown.




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P E R S O N A L I T A T E
xxxxxxx• x insatiable x • x impulsive x • x lush x • x hedonistic x • xneedy


If you’re looking for someone to water your plants while you’re on holiday, or walk your dog – Lucia ain’t it.

She’s more of the friend you call after you’ve had a long week. The one you want around, so she encourages your bad decision making skills. It’s always an adventure, one door always leading to another. She was the friend you let crash in your guest bedroom. The last one to leave a party, often having to be carried out.

Lucia once had been somewhat functional, back before they fled Paris. Before she started chasing oblivion. She grew up believing she was being groomed for something special, but if that were true – if the Dark Lord knew her fate then that meant he just let it happen. He was inescapable, that much she was sure was. He made it known that everything she had, down to her very soul, was his.

So, Lucia told herself she’d take the path the Dark Lord had paved for her, but she’d at least enjoy it in the meantime. Self-control was never something she excelled at. If she desired something, she indulged. Lucia was like an addict; it didn’t matter if it was alcohol or drugs or sex – she wanted to consume and consume until she was sick. Throw it away and pursue her next poison.

She wasn’t the sort to make friends easily. It took a certain type to appreciate her. Lucia tended to bring out the worst side of people, led them into circumstances they’d never imagine themselves in. Most people found it uncomfortable, but some grew to find the beauty in it. You learned parts of yourself when you allow yourself to pursue your darkest desires.

So many warlocks and witches spent their times wringing their hands worrying about the ethics of it all. Lucia reveled in the barbarity, craved the carnage. She had learned to embrace the Dark Lord. He was inevitable, omnipotent, all consuming. The only way out was through. She didn’t have time for questions of morality, Lucia didn’t take part in such discussions. Though she did love provoking them.

Lucia had spent years of putting up a façade. Hidden her pain so deep no one ever saw it. That’s how she became so great at seeing past others mask. She could see the darkness below the surface. Once she did, all she could think about was bringing it to the light. To make others as indulgent as she. When you stopped fretting about the consequences, there was no impossibility.






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H I S T O R I A R U M


paris, france
1994
Born to Marie and Pierre DuBois during an equinox, Lucia arrived around 3am to the sound of thunder cracking across the sky above them. They named her Lucia, an homage to their Dark Lord Lucifer and the light he flashed across the sky at the moment of her birth. Marie would say that Lucifer appeared to her during her pregnancy, telling her that her baby would not be baptized until after her 25th birthday. That he had plans for her.

The DuBois’ had always been an affluent family. They were known for their traditional satanic markings, tattooed on their skin to enhance their abilities. With the whispers from Lucifer that he had plans for their youngest child, their status was elevated. Her brother, who as the first born and first born son should have had higher status than she, was often an afterthought to their parents. Not that he minded, as he grew older he could get away with more. All eyes on Lucia meant none on him.

Lucia idolized her brother; he had a way about him that made it impossible to hate him. Despite every element working against them, they never experienced any sort of sibling rivalry. It felt like it was them against the world. Their parents all but neglected her brother and suffocated her. Somehow, together they got through it.

Which is why his death hit her so hard. Witch hunters had raided their church during the blood moon. They killed every man, woman, child…baby that crossed their path. Have you ever heard the squelch of an arrow through a newborn’s skull? Lucia has.

Her brother stayed behind. Of course he did. He’d always been the type to try to play hero. A mistake Lucia would never make. She begged him to come with, but he just threw her into their father’s arms and told them to get out. Not a day went by Lucia didn’t think about his face, about his last words to her. About that baby’s skull…

That’s when Lucia first began to drink. They had fled so quickly, when they arrived in New England, they had nothing more than the clothes on their back. Lucia remembered staying in a atrocious motel and stealing a box of some cheap red wine to drink by the empty pool – alone. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw her brothers face, heard that arrow strike through that baby’s head. She realized if she drank enough, she could just pass out – dreamless bliss.

Of course, her parents couldn’t have that. Once they were welcomed into the New England Coven, her parents wanted to keep her at home for as long as possible. When the Coven said that Lucia was well above age to live at The Academy of Unseen Arts. Her parents said that after the tragedy they’d experienced they thought Lucia should have more time with them. Really they just wanted to keep a short leash.

Truth was, Lucia liked trouble. She liked finding it, causing it. Hell, she even liked getting caught. She liked everything but the consequences, really. People loved telling her what to do, and Lucia liked showing them she didn’t have to listen to anyone. She gave them the option, let her go to the Academy or she would run away. They refused, so she left.

Even at a young age, Lucia had been an accomplished witch. She had her markings at age 13, since then it had just been about memorizing the incantations. The rest came as easy as breathing. She could have gone anywhere in the world, but there was only one place she wanted to be. Paris.

She lived off wine, bread, cheese and eventually a lot of cocaine. Nico took her in, though she didn’t spend much time at his home. Most her days were spent in parks, drinking herself into oblivion. Nights were for dancing, drinking, drugs. Lucia could have lived like that the rest of her life in contentment, but then the Dark Lord began to visit. First it was just his appearance in her dreams, his curved horns and ominous silhouette. Then she began to sense his presence during the day, never seeing him but recognizing the pungent sulfuric smell that followed him.

“What do you want?” She finally asked him. As clear as day his desire manifested in her mind. She was to return to New England and attend The Academy of Unseen Arts. She was to fall in line and do her part because he had plans. It was then she knew she had no choice in the matter, that he wouldn’t let her go.

So, she returned. Her parents didn’t argue about her attending the Academy. It seemed they had been visited as well. Lucia moved into the Academy and was able to pick up her studies where she had left off. Other people weren’t so excited about her return. Some believed she had received unnecessary favor, that she should have faced punishment for fleeing. People despised her for daring to dream, for doing what they couldn’t; leave.

Truth was, there was no escaping.






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B O N E Sx B U R R O U G H S
“He’s a good kid, but with luck and the Dark Lord will maybe I could change that.”


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Oh, Bones. So guarded, his heart still so full of light. She has a bit of a soft spot for the guy. Lucia was a sucker for the types that built up walls. He enjoyed a good time, which was more than she could say for most. Still, Lucia could smell his resistance against the Dark Lord. He had signed his name in the book, but there was still a part of him that bucked against the Church. Bucked against any authority really. Lucia played the long game, a friendly face to hold his hand step by step along the path of darkness.


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E M R Y S x P R O C T O R
“What can I say? I’ve got a thing for those in a position of…power.”


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He’s a prolific Necromancer, the High Priests first born son and has cheekbones for days. Lucia had to have. There was something more beyond his composed demeanor, drawing her in. Something raw, unclean. It didn’t take long to find it. Lucia was his guilty pleasure. A black hole of sex, drugs and bad decisions. He showed her parts of him he kept well hidden, an anger buried deep, but only glimpses. Afterward they’d return to their separate lives as the coven lush and the High Priest’s son – because they each had an “image” to uphold. Then, like a bad habit they’d end up doing it all over again, and again, and again. Lucia doesn’t ask questions, just sits back and enjoys the r i d e .


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D E S D E M O N A x P R O C T O R
“Poor thing thinks she has to protect her brother from me. She has no idea.”


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With witches like Desdemona, Lucia had learned to stay the fuck out their way. But when you’re sleeping with her brother, Desdemona made it a point to fuck with you. It’s hard for Lucia not to laugh when Desdemona provoked her. If the nosey little witch wants to involve herself with her brother’s lovers, that’s her prerogative. However, Lucia wasn’t interested in playing such games. If she knew even a glimmer of the truth she’d know that Emrys didn’t need her protection, not even a little.


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T A M S I Nx R E I D
“My kind of witch.”

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There’s something beautiful about simple friendships. The kind that didn’t make you ask questions or be vulnerable. Tamsin is that friend. She was white noise, something that helped drown out the racket in Lucia’s mind. Someone who’d cut up the next line or open the next bottle. So often Lucia felt like she was the one having to push others to keep up, it felt good to have someone who could hold their own in the lion’s den.



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I V Y x B I S H O P
“Sweet little bird, not sure if it’s a blessing or a curse to grow up outside the Church.”

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Lucia had never heard of a witch growing up believing she was a mortal, when she heard Ivy’s story she was immediately intrigued. Much to her delight they ended up roommates. At first, Lucia was certain she’d scare Ivy off - but the woman defied her expectations. Ivy was curious about the world she’d been left out of for so long. She had a calming effect on Lucia, sometimes even caring for her when she’d been too drunk to even stand. People underestimate Ivy, but Lucia knew better.



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C O N S T A N C Ex L A M O T T E
"I don't think I could survive this wretched place without her.”

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Lucia and Constance were both forces of nature, larger than life. Most people didn’t appreciate Constance, but Lucia did. Though Lucia was usually the one pushing Constance to get out of the Academy, it was always Constance running the show. She had a wicked streak and a penchant for revenge that delighted Lucia. Nights with Constance weren’t just fun, they were sinful. No, Constance didn’t need drugs or alcohol to take herself to the places Lucia went to. Constance was her partner in darkness, together through the Dark Lords Will there was nothing they couldn’t have.


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N E O N Ax K I
“I don’t think she likes me very much.”

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Lucia doesn’t necessarily think Neo hates her...though the amount of times she’s stumbled into their room in the middle of the night, drunk and loud - she might have the right to. She always carried herself in a way that always seemed off to Lucia, like she wasn't wearing her true face. Not that Lucia knew what that would even look like. Just a feeling…




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R O M A Nx B L A C K
“The kind of guy you love to hate.”


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A lot to unpack with this one. Simply put - all ego, no substance. The type of man Lucia preferred to torture. Worst part was everyone’s reaction to him. It was like they were putty in his hands. Not Lucia. She doesn’t lash out often, but when she does it’s almost always at Roman Black. Anyone who stayed long enough would see it one time or another. Though, she had her reasons. After all, isn’t hatred just passion in disguise? Not that Lucia would ever be caught dead sleeping with him, but so long as she’s never caught…



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B O D H I x K R I S H N A N
“I wish you could’ve seen the look on her face when I vomited on her coach slippers.”


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Miss money pants would have much more fun if she took that stick out her ass. Shame, really. She’s stunning when she let’s that mask down. But that wouldn’t look good would it? That’s all she cares about after all, appearances. Lucia would just love to see her let it out one day, stop pretending to be something she’s not. Maybe one day, if Bodhi doesn’t kill her before then.







h e x c o d e x // x #FD0E53 x // x f a c e c l a i m x // x Taylor LaShae x // x c r e a t o r x // x Rosa x // x c s x // x mjolnir

So begins...

Lucia DuBois's Story

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Lucia DuBois Character Portrait: Tamsin Reid Character Portrait: Bones Burroughs
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Lucia DuBois Character Portrait: Constance Lamotte Character Portrait: Josie Jaiyen Character Portrait: Ivy Bishop
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constance lamotte
the traitor | outfit | #863348


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Lucia DuBois Character Portrait: Roman Black Character Portrait: Dorian Fawkes Character Portrait: Michael Navarro Character Portrait: Tamsin Reid Character Portrait: Bones Burroughs
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#, as written by mjolnir
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dorian fawkes
the charlatanx|xoutfitx|x#8BA3A6

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"Victor," Michael replied to the presented question.

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

"I think Pearl has good taste."

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

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

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

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

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




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tamsin reid
cursed witchx|xoutfitx|x#000000

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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





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roman black
the lecherx|xoutfitx|x#AC945A

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Characters Present

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

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

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

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

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

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Lucia DuBois Character Portrait: Constance Lamotte Character Portrait: Tamsin Reid Character Portrait: Bones Burroughs Character Portrait: Taylor Montgomery
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constance lamotte
the traitor | outfit | #863348

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the gluttion | outfit | #FD0E53

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Lucia DuBois Character Portrait: Constance Lamotte Character Portrait: Tamsin Reid Character Portrait: Josie Jaiyen Character Portrait: Bones Burroughs Character Portrait: Taylor Montgomery
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bones burroughs
the kid | outfit | #167f40

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Characters Present

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He looked away.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Lucia DuBois Character Portrait: Constance Lamotte Character Portrait: Neona Ki Character Portrait: Bodhi Krishnan Character Portrait: Desdemona Proctor Character Portrait: Emrys Proctor
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the glutton | outfit | #FD0E53

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the traitor | outfit | #863348

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Lucia DuBois Character Portrait: Constance Lamotte Character Portrait: Roman Black Character Portrait: Dorian Fawkes Character Portrait: John Ito Character Portrait: Tamsin Reid
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#, as written by mjolnir
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dorian fawkes
the charlatanx|xoutfitx|x#8BA3A6

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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




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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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





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"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: Lucia DuBois Character Portrait: Constance Lamotte
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the glutton || outfit || #FD0E53

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Maman, I am behaving.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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