Description

xxxT A M S I N x R E I D
xxxxxxxxxxx• x c u r s e x • x m a l e d i c t u m x • x \ ˈ k ə r s \ x •

"If you could just go away, that'd be great."
- Tamsin Reid

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n i c k n a m e s x // x cursedx|xeveryone x tammyx|xclose friends

a g e x // xone hundred and seventy three

g e n d e r x // xfemale

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

o r i g i n x // xrochester, new york 1846

r o l e x // xcursed witch

D E C O R U S

h e i g h t x // x5' 5"

w e i g h t x // x125 lbs

h a i r x // xTamsin has been known to experiment with her hair depending on her mood for the day. That’s one of the nice things about being a witch. A simple glamour, and she can try a different style and color every day. But as more time passes, she usually can seem to be bothered preferring her natural hair. Mid-length and deep brunette, it usually has a little bit of body with a little bit of wave, but not enough for curls.

e y e s x // xIt’s been said that Tamsin’s eyes have a tendency to change depending on her mood. When she is calm, or calm for her, they are usually a dull green with small flecks of gold and brown. But when she is angered they have a tendency to go darker, nearly black.

o d d i t i e s x // xTamsin’s wrists still have scars from shackles she wore when she was imprisoned before her trial and subsequent curse. Other than that her body is generally unscathed. At one point she considered getting a tattoo for her deceased friend, Abigail. But even after all these years, she still feels betrayed by her and that’s enough not to mark her body with the girl’s memory.

a p p e a r a n c e x // xAlthough Tamsin is from a different era, her appearance does say much of that. She has accepted the changing tides of fashion, formality and language as best as one can when she is confined to a single island for all of eternity. She has a fairly slender frame that suits her smaller stature quite well. What height she does have comes mostly from her legs, although she doesn’t flaunt them very often. High heels aren’t a friend of hers, so she only wears them when necessary.

It’s been said that she is quite beautiful, not that she would agree. Tamsin has lost what appeal she had for finer clothes and makeup over the past century, but when she does wear it, its like night and day. Her facial features somehow manage to be soft and feminine yet still sharp, matching her sharp personality. It’s often said that her eyes are dead and if she smiles, it is rarely genuine, more often a smirk or a result of a well timed snide comment. The best word to describe her would be a cactus, pretty at a distance but stoic and sharp.

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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 •

c h e s a r e x // x an albino burmese python, he is often found draped over her shoulders or hiding in her knapsack. He's been with her for many many years, before she even went through her dark baptism. Chesare has never been a fan of being far from her, nor is he a fan of others, often acting like Tamsin's own alarm.

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 •

k n o w l e d g e x // x Tamsin has spent over the past century as head of the Sanctum. With all those books at her fingertips, she's quickly expanded her knowledge. She is often the person someone would go to with a question they need answered. If she doesn't have the answer, she can point you in the direction of the book that would.

s p e l l s x // x One of the first things she studied in the Sanctum was spells. She was determined to try and break the curse herself. It didn't work, nothing could break Lucifer's curse but himself. But she still tried and in the process learned a vast array of spells, some, even, that most witches and warlocks haven't heard of.

d e c e p t i o nx // x Tamsin wouldn't call it lying, but perhaps withholding the truth. There are times where she doesn't want people to know the reality of a situation, for them to leave her be or on occasion hide secrets. She's good at saying or making others think what is needed for certain situations, wether it is misleading, a version of the truth or a lie.

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 •

t r u s t x // x Tamsin does not trust people. In the past, everyone in her life that she ever trusted stabbed her in the back, Abigail, Asmodeus... or her family. It is hard for her to believe there is good in people, not anymore.

l o n e l y x // x By her own design, Tamsin doesn't get close to anyone to avoid losing them in the future. But this leaves her immensely alone.

t e m p e r x // x She has been known to be short tempered. It doesn't take much to set her off, and she isn't afraid to speak her mind, no matter how rude it is.

s u b s t a n c e s x // x Over the past century, Tamsin has grown an addiction to substances, in particular cigarettes and alcohol. But on occasion she has been known to hit the harder drugs, just to feel numb... without worrying about overdosing.

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

c u r s e x // x It's worse than death. It has twisted her, turned her into an addict and suicidal, not that either do what she wishes. She is terrified that it'll never be broken, and how it'll warp her into something she couldn't even recognize.

l u c i f e r x // x No matter what he wishes, she doesn't worship him, or support him. She wants him dead, but his mere presence turns her from a lion to a lamb.

n i g h t m a r e s x // x They come to her every night and some how manage to get worse each day that passes. It's made her an insomniac and resorted to any method to try and avoid sleep as much as possible. One of Lucifer's tricks, no doubt, to torture her even when she thinks she is sage, with images of her old life, visions of what her life will be like, or watching those she happens to care about die before her eyes.

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Tamsin has never been known to be the overly friendly or kind… to anyone. The one exception is her cousin and even that is only sometimes. There was a point in her life where she used to be a kind and warm person but that time has long passed. She has a habit of trying to make light of most situations, or poke fun even when it comes off rude and hurtful. She presents herself in a devil may care attitude, often resorting to coldness and sarcasm as a way to keep people at an arm’s length.

Over the past century, it has become a natural thing for Tamsin to keep people as far away from her as possible. It started off as intentional but grew to just be they she is. Resorting to her snideness, sharp tongue and general cold nature to push anyone who tries to befriend her away. Friendships, companions… anything that makes her happy is just another trick of Lucifer’s to make her suffer in the end. So, rather than give him what he wants, she keeps to herself.

Tamsin has always had a level and logical head in most situations, as long as emotions don’t cloud her decisions. She prides herself on her intellect which has lent itself to be useful with most of her day to day life. She’s never been an optimistic sort of person. She’s always been very grounded and realistic about most situations, thinking too much hope can be as deadly as constant pessimism. It’s one of the qualities that makes it difficult for others to get close to her, because where some would give empty promises and hope, Tamsin keeps her feet firmly upon the ground, weighing all the options.

Depressed, Morose… Whichever term you’d prefer, she is that. Tamsin has made her bed, and she knows full well that now she must lie in it. As the years toll on, this only seems to grow in her. She becomes darker, more removed from those around her. She relies on alcohol and drugs to numb the unbearable sensation of helplessness and loneliness that consume her mind on a daily basis. Then uses her sarcastic nature as a facade to hide the darker truth.

H I S T O R I A R U M

Tamsin had a life that most people growing up in the mid 1800s would have loved. Her father own one of the largest plantations in the state off the shores of Lake Ontario. She never had to want for a thing as a child, her family prospering without slaves while the other farms labored heavily to try and keep up. Unknown to them, her father, Harold Reid, was a skilled Warlock well known in the New England Coven of the Church of Night. He used his magic to keep the plantation thriving, even harboring dozens of slaves during the civil war while Tamsin and her brothers studied at the New York Academy of Unseen Arts.

The Reids were proteges in the Academy, said to be descendants of one of the oldest and purest line of witches. Tamsin, along with her brothers Oliver and Charles, had large shoes to fill, expected to be top of their classes. Tamsin easily began to excel in her classes, even taking on the role of a library in the Sanctum since she had already spent so much time there. At first, all she ever wanted was to make her family proud by being the most skilled witch in the Academy. But then she met Abigail.

Abigail came to the island a little over a year after Tamsin had her Dark Baptism and was drawn to her like a moth to a flame. At first Abigail seemed intrigued by Tamsin’s lineage and the history of the Reid family, but it wasn’t long before they grew close. The pair became inseparable, and their friendship slowly drew her away from her studies and her time as one of the librarians of the Sanctum, instead focusing Tamsin’s attention on the more trivial customs of the school such as the Solstice and Lupercalia.

Tamsin seemed to change with her new friendship to Abigail, no longer worried about the Church of Night or Lucifer. Everything she did and who she was was for her. Some thought maybe Tamsin was in love with her, but no one really knew how far she’d go for Abigail, not until the Feast of Feasts. Both Tamsin and Abigail were in the group of fourteen witches that took part in the lottery. And when the Queen was revealed, it turned out to be none other than Abigail.

Whatever beliefs or support for the Dark Lord Tamsin might have had went out the window that day. The prospect of watching the person dearest to her offered up as a sacrifice for the coven to eat turned her stomach. She begged Abigail to run away with her, to forsake the Church of Night before the Feast of Feasts but she wouldn’t listen. Desperate, Tamsin concocted a plan of her own. Tamsin packed bags for them both and hid them away until the time was right.

While everyone was asleep the night before the feast, Tamsin did the unthinkable… And sent the desecrated church up in flames. She then hurried back to her room to grab their bags where she was met by Abigail. Tamsin hoped to spirit her away in the night, but it was too late. Abigail had sought out the High Priest the second she saw the smoke rise from the church.

Tamsin was apprehended and kept in the Witch’s Cell for nearly a month before being brought before the Witch Council. By that point, the Feast of Feasts was over and regardless of her wishes, the ceremony commenced and Abigail was dead. Tamsin didn’t argue or put up a fight while on trial, knowing very well her transgressions would end with her execution. Just before the Council gave their decision, the Dark Lord himself intervened. He was so angered at Tamsin’s diversion from the Church of Night and intentional destruction of the Desecrated Church that he took it upon himself to give the final verdict.

Since Tamsin no longer showed any care for her life and was more than ready to die without Abigail alive, that was her punishment. She was to live indefinitely, forever as a servant of the Dark Lord, un-aging and unable to die. She is forever forced to serve the Church of Night, entrapped and imprisoned within the confines of the Academy of Unseen arts. Unable to leave the island, she is forced to watch those she loves grow old and die before her eyes over and over.

It has been over a century since Tamsin was cursed. Every new Witch or Warlock that comes to the Academy has heard about her, the tales and rumors spreading throughout the church like wildfire. Her family had long since disowned her, trying to wipe her tarnish from the Reid family’s good name. But the truth behind her curse is fogged by time and her own lies, not even the teachers at the Academy who grew up alongside her can recall her reasoning for burning down the church, only that she did it. Tamsin is the living specter that haunts the Academy.

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xC A S P E R x R E I D
"I don't know if I've ever met someone more annoying... But, I do love my cousin."

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Tamsin was reluctant to let Casper into her life when he arrived at the Academy of Unseen Arts. For over a century her family shunned her, wrote her out of the Reid family history and acted like she never existed. But when Casper arrived he was determined to be part of her life. There was only so many times she could say go away before she gave in. Family is family.

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xB O D H I x K R I S H N A N
"She's spikey, I'm spikey. You won't see us having tea together or anything."

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Bodhi and Tamsin are not friends. To be fair, no one is really friends with Tamsin, but the same goes here. They both spend a good amount of their time in the Sanctum, so they cross paths and exchange words. But it is rare if these words are friendly, often insulting each other in passing. Although it's not in spite like it is with the other witches. They respect and dislike each other.

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xB O N E S x B U R R O U G H S
"So, you know how my cousin just annoyed me until I gave up... Bones is no different."

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Some how there is nothing Tamsin can do wrong in his eyes. Depending on the day, she might even find that as a challenge. But when she does offend him, she can't help but feel a bit guilt when he sulks like a scolded puppy after her. Bones is one of the few people who've managed to get closer than an arms length to her, although it wasn't her choice. She gives him a hard time, but would instantly jump down someone's throat if they treated him poorly.

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xC O N S T A N C E x L A M O T T E
"It's sort of like a non-stop pissing contest, with snide comments."

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Constance and Tamsin aren't friends. Not in the technical sense anyway. It's a combination of Constance always trying to one up Tamsin's knowledge or do one better with her insults. A constant my horse is bigger than your horse situation. But it also is some sort of respect and friendship underneath it all. They may seem like enemies on the surface, but also become defensive of one another. No one can insult the other but them.

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xI S A A C x C O U R T N E Y
"He's an idiot... wanting to live forever."

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The two of them go farther back then either of them would probably care to admit. They are the only ones to know the truth of each other's secrets. Tamsin and Isaac might not see eye to eye about their relative immortality. But it is a slight comfort for her knowing that there is at least one person that she won't have to say good bye to after a century or so. But getting used to the new names and faces never gets easier.

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xJ O S E P H I N E x J A I Y E N
"I think she's scared of me."

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Josie gives her a wide birth, not that Tamsin is complaining. There is always a certain number of new students who come to the Academy that can't help but wonder her way and ask questions about the 'cursed witch.' Then there are others who know the rumors and use it as a warning. Tamsin likes those people, because they leave her the hell alone unless they actually need something from her. Plus, she doesn't like bubbly people.

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

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

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

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"A brief quote in your character's voice about the other character."

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

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

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"A brief quote in your character's voice about the other character."

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

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"A brief quote in your character's voice about the other character."

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xD O R I A N x F A W K E S
"A brief quote in your character's voice about the other character."

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"A brief quote in your character's voice about the other character."

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h e x c o d e x // x #000000 x // x f a c e c l a i m x // x kristen stewart x // x c r e a t o r x // x mjolnir x // x c s x // x mjolnir

So begins...

Tamsin Reid's Story

Seen 14 Times • Page 1 of 1

Setting

The Academy of Unseen Arts

Characters Present

Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

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#2019-09-17 00:15:16, as written by mjolnir

dorian fawkes
the charlatanx|xoutfitx|x#8BA3A6

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

tamsin reid
cursed witchx|xoutfitx|x#000000

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

roman black
the lecherx|xoutfitx|x#AC945A

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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The Academy of Unseen Arts

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#2019-09-21 12:38:06, as written by Chompers

bones burroughs
the kid | outfit | #167f40

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

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

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

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

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

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

bohdi krishnan
the savage | outfit | #2d0704

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

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

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

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

isaac courtney
the undying | outfit | #934016

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

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

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

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

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

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#2019-09-25 02:52:36, as written by stxlla

michael navarro
the heretic | outfit | #87975C

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

winifred blanchard
the temptress | outfit | #BF5F28

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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#2019-09-30 08:48:50, as written by leisurelyatwar

the glutton | outfit | #FD0E53

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.”

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#2019-10-03 06:04:15, as written by barnes

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

the fury x • x outfit x • x #f0c0c0

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

C A S P E R x R E I D

the honourable x • x outfit x • x #1e6262

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

the void x • x outfit x • x #fcb514

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Setting

The Academy of Unseen Arts

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#2019-10-22 00:58:16, as written by mjolnir

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.

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.

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.

Setting

The Academy of Unseen Arts

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#2019-10-25 00:53:01, as written by Wolf's Bane109

TAYLOR MONTGOMERY
| The Unorthodox | Outfit | #4abab4

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.

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#2019-10-31 05:11:25, as written by .euphoria.

constance lamotte
the traitor | outfit | #863348

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the gluttion | outfit | #FD0E53

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."

Setting

The Academy of Unseen Arts

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#2019-11-06 08:31:17, as written by Chompers

bones burroughs
the kid | outfit | #167f40

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.

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The Academy of Unseen Arts

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#2019-12-21 21:15:36, as written by mjolnir

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.

tamsin reid
cursed witchx|xoutfitx|x#000000

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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.

roman black
the lecherx|xoutfitx|x#AC945A

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Setting

The Academy of Unseen Arts

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#2020-01-25 00:49:18, as written by Chompers

bones burroughs
the kid | outfit | #167f40

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

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

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

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

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

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

isaac courtney
the undying | outfit | #934016

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

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

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

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

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

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

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The Academy of Unseen Arts

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#2020-04-01 16:39:57, as written by barnes

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

the fury x • x outfit x • x #f0c0c0

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

C A S P E R x R E I D

the honourable x • x outfit x • x #1e6262

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

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

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

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

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

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

Setting

The Academy of Unseen Arts

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#2020-04-28 21:27:32, as written by mjolnir

dorian fawkes
the charlatanx|xoutfitx|x#8BA3A6

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

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

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

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

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

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

tamsin reid
cursed witchx|xoutfitx|x#000000

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"How could he not know her? She's a complete twat to put things nicely. If she doesn't hate you, there's something wrong. Not like I'm any better honestly though."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Grandma Ophelia's here." Tamsin quirked a brow, her curiosity peaked. She was tempted to smirk but didn't. It was well known that everyone in the Reid family, other than Casper hated her guts and looked at her as a stain on the Reid family name. Her niece Ophelia was no different. Perhaps the worst of them all. "I mean, I'm going to keep her company... but you had better figure out how to stay out of her way. She's in the church right now."

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

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

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The Academy of Unseen Arts

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#2020-05-08 22:21:31, as written by Wolf's Bane109

The Unorthodox // Attire // Hex: #4abab4

Taylor sat there silently as she studied the newcomer. Giving nothing more than a small chuckle and grin at Tamsin's retort. "Yeah, and I'm a fairy princess." she always did have a means of making even the slightest remark somehow oddly amusing. Even if Tamsin wasn't trying to be.

"There’s a reason that witch sounds eerily similar to bitch.” Taylor heard him rattle off, which she couldn't help but stifle a small chuckle. "Could say that again." the young witch said under her breath, never once taking her eyes fully off of the man. Finding something off about his presence. As if that was truly saying something considering who else was in the room. Not that Tamsin was the worst type of company she could ask for, in comparison to a few others.

“Isaac Courtney.” the male introduced himself finally as he took a seat.

Taylor was going to introduce herself when Tamsin spoke up, "Tamsin Reid, your local immortal," introducing herself, and then pointed to Taylor as she continued to speak, "And Taylor Montgomery, soon to be book signer." Taylor gave a small shrug in response as she was introduced, "Not sure, honestly. Do I really want to sign my soul to the biggest asshole to ever exist?" her voice was oddly serious for a moment, almost deadpan. But a smirk scrawled across her face, "Could still be worse things in life, I suppose." Taylor gave another short shrug.

Taylor began to drift into her own thoughts after they exchanged a few more words, mainly saying how she didn't entirely remember seeing him before. And that he must have been new. "“I’m hardly new, though that’s a matter of semantics." a small, shit-eating grin formed on her face as she gave him a curt nod of her head, "I'll be sure to remember that for later." turning her head away from him, she found herself rolling her eyes all too hard. This guy was already beginning to get on her nerves in record time.

“Tamsin likes to thinks she knows everything about everyone.” Taylor barely acknowledged what he had said, finding his presence to be more of an annoyance now than anything. And frankly, she didn't really want to be there anymore. Blocking out whatever else Tamsin and Isaac seemed to discuss.

“Now it’s time to, in the words of Tamsin, watch witches make the worst decision of their lives.” Taylor blinked back to reality as she was lost in her thoughts. Almost having asked what he was talking about, but remembered what he was referring to. Giving him one last coy smile before he walked out the door.

Taylor merely sighed, rubbing her face slightly before she got to her feet. Time to sell her soul to the god damn fucking devil. Something she never thought she would actually do at any point in her life. To think, not that long ago she was singing in a god damn bar for a few extra bucks, and now she was in a school for witches and warlocks. And above it all, she was about to sign her name in a book for only the worst type of person to ever exist. "Well, time to go make the worst fucking choice I will ever make, I guess. If I don't burst into flames first." Taylor said audibly enough as she walked past Tamsin, not paying her and the man she was talking to any mind.

The walk to the Desicrated Church was a rather long and boring one, finding herself in her own thoughts. Maybe she should just turn back now and forget all of this. What's the worst that leaving could cause? Taylor was already far over her head in all of this, way more than she realized. Feeling the nerves and anxiety bubble within her stomach. Everyone else had family or some sense of familiarity with them for this ceremony. Taylor, she had no one.

This feeling of anxiousness and possibly even fear and unease only became more so when she entered the building. Some familiar faces were amongst the crowd, some she was closer to some, if one could even consider it that, and others she had never seen a day in her life. She felt so out of place and small. This wasn't her element. Everyone else here knew what they were doing, knew what they wanted, meanwhile, she hadn't the faintest clue. What if when she got up there to sign, she froze? Taylor would be the only one to chicken out of this whole thing, all because she was far over her head in this endeavor.

But yet, she found herself taking one footstep at a time closer and closer to the front end of the Church. Finding a few empty seats off to the side, Taylor sat down. A sense of unease and dread overcame her as she realized what she was really about to do. Give up her soul for the sake of power? While yes, it was sounding rather pleasant, and desirable by so many here, this wasn't exactly what she wanted. But she had no choice in this. She had to. So she sat there, in silence. Cursing to herself under her breath.

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Tamsin Reid

0 · 1,056 views · located in The Academy of Unseen Arts

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

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So begins...

Tamsin Reid's Story

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