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Aden Orchau

"Burn, motherfucker, burn."

0 · 773 views · located in New Orleans, Louisiana

a character in “The Witching Hr”, as played by RolePlayGateway

Description

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|| Pyrokinetic Extraordinaire ||





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Nineteen Suckas // Hella Pansexual // Pyromaniac

Aden stands at exactly five foot eleven, a height which he's quite proud of ("I'm not short, you're freakishly tall. That's a you problem, not a me problem") and weighs about one hundred and forty pounds...which is a little on the light side but, fuck it, he's lithe.

His mess of dark brown hair is rarely ever fixed, mostly just a mop on the top of his head that he's constantly running his hands through, though he's taken to shaving off the sides recently. Aden's eyes are green, bright or dark depending on the light - an Orchau family trait. He has an angular face, sharp eyebrows, "big nose", and a set jawline.

Aden's covered in tattoos, more than even he can remember having, though the ones on his hands are most often noticed. The one thing he has more of than tattoos are scars, which he seems to be covered in. He has one on his face even, from the middle of his left eye to the corner of his mouth, though it's hardly noticeable it's so thin. There's also a pretty nasty burn that covers his inner right forearm. He has three piercings: ears, tongue, and his naval.

Aden's well known for dressing in all black, which he claims he'll wear until they invent a darker color. His favorite clothes are skinny jeans, combat boots, and oversized jackets. Sometimes he'll be seen in dark denim and ripped band shirts, but regardless his style is a little on the punk side.

Aden's well known for being fidgety, so sometimes he wears jeans on his pants to give his hands something to do.

AssertiveTrouble MakerIrritableCockySarcasticLazyArrogantCrudeImpulsiveSelf Centeredd ☠ Aggressive


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Aden comes from a long and very old bloodline of, rarely enough, male witches. In his family it's more odd for the female to have any power, and when they do it's usually more herbal than active magic. There also well known for not exactly being...light witches.

Aden has always been naturally gifted, since he was a boy...perhaps even a bit too powerful for his own good. There was talk of binding his gifts, especially with his vindictive nature. Aden's been through a total of three different academies, two of which he was formally expelled from. This is his last warning.

Arden's the seventh child in his family. The first five are all girls, which - rumor says - is why there are so many of them, because the Orchau's obviously needed a boy. And they stopped after Aden...for about fifteen years. His younger brother, Lucius Cole, is his pride and joy. He has a definite soft spot for the kid.




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|| Pyrokinesis & Augmentation ||

Strengths
--Create, generate, absorb, and control flames
--Existing sources make him even more powerful
--Enhances powers - himself or others
--Exceed passed personal limitations

Weaknesses
--Control
--He's not immune to the flames - he can burn himself if not focused
--Water
--Oxygen is needed as a fuel. No oxygen, no flame
--Can only enhance one thing or person at a time
--Control - enhancement can hurt





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So begins...

Aden Orchau's Story

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Silas Abernathy Character Portrait: Pell Laveau Character Portrait: Hale Bjarki Character Portrait: Aden Orchau Character Portrait: Character Portrait:
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Aden Orchau was no stranger to the Louisiana heat, despite what his preference for tight black clothing might suggest. Still, April brought with it a wave of sticky warmth that even he couldn't ignore. So the boy threw out his skinny jeans for once in favor of Tripp brand shorts and a loose tank top advertising some screamo rock band. His combat boots stayed in place though, untied, ratty old things.

From his spot sitting on top of the balcony railing (yes, on top, feet swinging below him wondering how long it would take for a shoe to slip off and hit someone [preferably Miss Foxx] on the head) he could both remain unseen and see everyone come and go from the main doors. Because it was a Wednesday though, there wasn't much to see. The academy was normally bubbling with energy and a collection of unruly young witches, but they'd been granted their freedom, which meant they were off to their own devices.

Usually Aden spent these days in the city with Lucius, which he cherished more than anything, but this particular day he wasn't so lucky. Which meant he was stuck inside, subjected to people watching, because he hated everyone and had no fun whatsoever. Or, so the rumors claimed. Aden just didn't care enough to dismiss them.

After maybe an hour of silence, Pell Laveau crossed the threshold, beautiful lavender hair really the only reason Aden could recognize her spot on. He liked Pell, about as much as he liked anyone...which wasn't a lot, really. Perhaps he just hated her a little less than the others.

The front door opening stole both of their attention, but Aden wasn't surprised to see Hale saunter in, shit-eating grin in place, looking much too happy like he usually did. Aden rolled his eyes, brought his cigarette to his mouth, and blew out smoke which only cleared to show something a little different in the daily proceedings. A new kid. Aden could tell immediately because he was not only escorted by Mertyl Snow's mess of bright red hair, but because of the way he was dressed. Fuck, one wouldn't know the kid was in Louisiana if Aden wasn't so sure of it himself. New Boy looked more out of place than some idiot wearing white during Ceremony.

Pell only lingered long enough to probably say hi in a creative Pell type way, Ms. Snow scurried off to do really annoying and pointless shit that would disrupt everyone's lives, and Mr. B...went to do whatever weird stuff he did. Which left the kid standing there alone for a good five or ten minutes, looking more lost than a girl in a boys bathroom, before he straightened his shoulders and made his way to the staircase. Aden watched with disinterest, moving one hand to bring the cigarette to his lips.

A good ten minutes later, somewhere in the halls behind him, an argument struck up. Aden recognized Madison and Pell's voices, which meant new kid had probably attempted to talk to the Head Bitch and Pell came to the rescue, because she was a good person like that. Aden blocked them out, watching a few more kids mill through the entrance way under him on occasion.

Sometimes he thought about lighting them on fire just for the hell of it. But he didn't. He was already in enough trouble this week.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Jacqueline Emilie-Marie Lavaeu Character Portrait: Kyle Spencer Character Portrait: Pell Laveau Character Portrait: Hale Bjarki Character Portrait: Rowe McDermott Character Portrait: Aden Orchau
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Mr. B

Busily humming as he beetled down the dilated entryway, Hale ran a tattooed hand through his chestnut hair, spindly fingers snagging knots and promptly removing them. He was just short of a clean break when he nearly plunged toward the floor. One of his large hands clamped the ajar front door to steady himself. Straightening his bowtie, he flattened himself against the nearest wall, eyes wide at the source of his blunder, avoided by a hair’s breadth. Teeth happily clenched, the young scout beamed at the mess of sandy hair. Hale’s cheeks stretched thin, until he could smile no wider at the bare-eyed creation.

Kyle. A mocked ‘house dog’ by catty young witches (no pun intended), and a godsend by Cordelia. Anyone who understood his evolution in the slightest appreciated him. Simple comprehension seemed to be beyond even the most gifted at times, though. Kyle was at best, amateur witch work gone wrong. But over time with the molding of his mind, his own dedication and hard work, he became a gift to the academy, and nothing less. A diamond in the rough, as Hale saw it. Kyle was decorated in scars and aged lesions, physical narratives on his skin of the horrors he had suffered. He was best disguised in his clothes. Though underneath, Hale knew immaculate stitchwork kept him together. The limbs reattached were not all his own. Whether or not this was a secret, Hale treated it as a respected and unspoken matter. After all, it did not matter. The boy worked hard and whatever remnants of a prior life remained in him were to be cherished. Hale never fancied the idea of underestimating anyone, and disparaging blatantly weathered folk was a sin. Anyone who willingly worked their hands to the bone to stay at Robichaux and assist waspish young things was a saint. Hale treated him subtly as such with his usual inkling of bizarre joy in greeting. A kind soul resided in that boy, misunderstood, but kind nonetheless. Kyle was, after all, human. Even if he had no heartbeat.

Hale often wondered why the unsanctioned revival of a horribly disfigured college boy was not penalized… If something like that would have backfired, either girls involved with the haphazardly performed spell themselves could have died, or come back completely mindless without recollection of anything, let alone their past lives. Leave it to Cordelia to be the most forgiving witch in the universe. But really, what a beautiful spirit Miss Foxx was. He could picture her leniency and concern perfectly. He wished he had gotten more time to know the headmistress, but she seemed less enthused about him than most. Which struck a nerve, considering Cordelia seemed very fond of Myrtle Snow. Why was he frowned upon? Had he done something wrong?

There was no time to debate it internally. It wasn’t necessarily important with ‘the bigger picture’. With a starless stare, Hale noticed Jacqueline moving with her usual elegance, no doubt prepared to entertain a newcomer. Hale was granted, wholly curious about the very potent voodoo heir. Her business at the academy. There was also Pell Laveau, fair skinned and fairy-like, but Pell gave off an apathetic aura when it came to the study of voodoo itself. She did not spur much suspicion. Without control of his flitting eyes and mind, he stole glances also into the front yard, where Kyle had been dragging his nature-happy feet before stumbling into sight. Hale extended a large palm, wrapping drawn fingers around Kyle’s cold hand and helping him stand, “Lost in thought?” Hale mused it, the sun hitting his nearly black eyes and shrinking the sable pupil, “No worries. You work your ass off, deserve some downtime. I rather like the Methley’s myself…” Thoughtfully Hale moved to touch his own face, itching at stubble once again, “Silas Abernathy, room 2D. Pell Laveau is his roommate, you know the girl, don’t you? Ah, can’t chit chat… Must be on my way!” He tapped the face of his watch as he brushed past Kyle and made his descent to the front path.

“Don’t beat yourself up, I forget things all the time!” He called out to the Spencer boy, stopping mid-step to whip around momentarily. Naturally he felt the desire to look skyward, where he found a tepid boy swinging his feet about from the second story balcony. Dark hair complimented his otherwise dark features. Hale folded a pair of sunglasses in his grasp, squinting at the male witch, and the displeasure of sweating through a dress shirt, “Mr. Orchau, it wouldn’t kill you to get some sunlight! Or tie your boots…” Hating to sound nagging or remotely faux parental, he tilted his head with a silly grin, half-wink included, “I’m sure our new student could use some… Domestic guidance. If you feel so inclined. Either way, carry on. I look forward to seeing you at Ceremony!” Winding his way out of sight and rounding the substantial academy, Hale hurriedly tromped on his way.

Sweat created from both the temperature and anxious need to be on time, Hale finally threw his hands up, a huff escaping his mouth. The sky darkened only a hue or so, sun fleetingly hiding. A disarray of cold raindrops assaulted just New Orleans for about two minutes. Smitten with the cool-off, even the effect it left on his now sodden clothes, Hale carried on as the sun dared show its face again. This time, his path was not distracted by a lone boy perched beneath a tree for some shade. Still, greetings were a force of habit. Hale bowed his head, rushing past, metal crunching beneath his foot, “I do hope you can fix your cell phone!” With that, Hale hopped onto a six-speed, pedaled his way around the corner, and disappeared for some urban core business.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Silas Abernathy Character Portrait: Kyle Spencer Character Portrait: Pell Laveau Character Portrait: Aden Orchau Character Portrait: Character Portrait:
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Aden's position was discovered almost half an hour later, by Hale no less...because Aden was pretty sure he was the only one strange enough to actively look up that high. Even in a house full of witches. The boy screwed his face up in distaste as he glared down at his teacher, then at the sunlight streaming in through the windows.

"Yeah," he muttered at the topic of what might or might not kill him. "But why take unnecessary risks?" Of course, it was doubtful the man could hear him, but...actually, Aden wouldn't put it past Mr. B. If he ever stuck around long enough. The teen sighed, gripped the railing, and casually pulled his body back over it, landing in the hallway.

What the fuck was domestic guidance and why on earth would Aden feel any need to provide it? Then again, perhaps bothering the new kid would be more interesting than what he was currently doing. So he shoved his free hand into his pocket and walked until he heard voices again. Particularly Pell's, and then the rambling of what he assumed was the new kid. Jesus Christ.

Said voices lead him to Pell's room, the door of which was ajar, and Aden obviously hadn't been the only one sent this way, because Kyle Spencer was sticking his head over the threshold. Aden rolled his eyes, ruffled the boy's blonde hair as he passed maybe a little too roughly, and said, "Sup Zombie Boy," before letting himself in Pell's room.

He dropped on the bed next to the girl, with his general lack for other people's space, elbows resting on his knees and cigarette between his lips while he looked over the new kid now that he could actually see him. He was probably tall, if his slightly lanky form was anything to go off of, and actually most likely older than Aden himself. He was actually really cute. Soft brown hair, big brown eyes, slightly confused but generally happy expression. He looked tired, though, a fact Aden attributed to the circles under his eyes.

Dressed like he owned a fucking museum or something though.

Aden blew out a puff of smoke before turning to face Pell, arching one eyebrow and gesturing lazily with his hand. "Is this guy for real?"

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Jacqueline Emilie-Marie Lavaeu Character Portrait: Silas Abernathy Character Portrait: Kyle Spencer Character Portrait: Pell Laveau Character Portrait: Aden Orchau Character Portrait:
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Pell Laveau






With agile speed Pell relaced and tied a pair of Vans Skate High’s after formal introductions were through, casting aside her urge to completely avoid the handshake with Silas that she initiated. Was he for real? Pell glanced at her own hands after one was clasped by his firm greeting. Her hands were maybe even a little dry from over-washing and excessive use of hand sanitizer. Choking back a displeased, or perplexed sigh, she forced the smile to stay on her porcelain face, “Oh, it’s okay, we all have our…” Pell looked back up, meeting the bookkeeper-like stare of her new roommate, “Preferences.” Maybe what she meant to say was 'extreme quirks'. Her pixie colored hair fell around her face, weight rested in her thighs when she seated herself again. She leaned toward her shoes to examine the bows.

So far the only feather in her hat during her stay at Miss Robichaux’s had been the enchanted version of honor roll (twice achieved, mind you) and assisting with Ceremony grocery shopping. Too bad public defense against Madison Montgomery didn’t count, otherwise Pell would be ranking as an elite student by now. Especially with the shots fired about substance abuse a few moments after Silas’ arrival. Pell smirked to herself, a glimpse of her white teeth on display for a second. She shook her head, impish wavy locks bouncing. At least to her, it was a very direct and waggish remark. Pell was curious to know whether or not she put Madison behind the eight ball, being that the Montgomery girl sort of gawked rather than snapping back immediately. Who would have guessed that publicists didn’t mentor their clients on comebacks that may come in handy during a paparazzi frenzy? …Or say, a common cat fight? Pell, apparently. She would pat herself on the back later for that one.

Noting a change in the natural lighting, Pell lifted her head. She did not look at the window nor mention it when its Honiton lace curtain separated and tucked itself into a rod. Still, not much sunlight. She had been practicing more physicality and control lately. If she didn’t need to employ her powers, she wouldn’t. But getting up from the bed just to move the shades seemed too demanding. She shrugged to herself and furrowed her brow. A quick scan was given to the view at a distance. Clouds were beginning to separate just as quickly as they had rolled in. Must have been Mr. B again with his finicky preference on weather. Sighing, she rubbed the bridge of her narrow nose between two fingers before pulling a foot onto the mattress and acknowledging another presence. A cheek rested to her knee, she clasped her hands around her shin, “Hey, Kyle.”

The guy couldn’t have had better timing. “You know you can come in,” she raised a brow, “Without waiting for me to say so. Open door policy.” Pell was a little lost for words, and Kyle was so user-friendly for new arrivals. What he lacked in refined language he made up for in hospitable psyche and helpful tact, as long as his appearance didn't frighten said new arrival off. Pell knew there was a lot of extraordinary magic at work in his brain, even if he was considered some run-of-the-mill zombie, non-magic person prone to semi brutal outbursts. She quietly observed him on many occasions. The way he paid attention to the garden, the greenhouse, his clement interest in things that grew from sunlight. Maybe that’s why he liked the sun so much? Yeah, maybe. There was something within his nature she identified with, whether that was being disarmed and thrust into a new world, or feeling like even the clearest language couldn’t make others understand. During the few times they spent together, be it chores or a hand of cards, they didn’t speak so much as they exchanged looks. More often than not they were befuddled expressions or effortless nods, but there was some grasp between them. It was because of their lack of conversation people assumed they weren’t friends. But Pell would disagree with that speculation. She felt like Kyle was the closest thing to a friend she had aside from her adored cousin, who happened to slowly saunter down the hall just in the knick of time.

Aden padded past Kyle as well, and the others without regard. He plopped on her bed, careless in terms of greetings or hospitality as per usual. He wasn’t exactly the warmest of personalities, but he was somewhat a kindred spirit. “Is everyone home today or what?” Pell blurted, clutching the corner of a pillow and swatting the Orchau boy with it. “Jax,” Pell called out, beckoning her into the room, “Wanna’ run into town with me? Last minute shopping shit for Ceremony. ‘Sides, kinda’ want to scale that new boutique, corner store, thing.” Even in spite of classes being void on a Wednesday, Jacqueline wore her uniform like a trophy. And really, she looked like one. The firm fabric on her tawny skin would make mostly anyone swoon. She had a complexion like polished Agate, eyes like two curious cats swaying slowly, perpetually ridden with enigma. That hint of Creole in her tone was something Pell favored over everything. It reminded her of her mother, of home. Pell only retained a small slicking of Southern twang in her own speech, usually when she didn’t feel like fully enunciating something, or when articulating words with ‘l’s and ‘o’s. But those who listened closely enough would catch on and consider it a comforting quality, most of the time. Others would assume an accent equaled a lack of intelligence.

"Aden!" Pell snapped mid-thought, "He's new. Don't be such a bitch." She turned her attention back on her cousin, quite the multitasker of conversation, “And, I could use a really freaking stiff drink,” she murmured, getting to her feet and dusting denim off for no apparent reason, “Aden? Wanna’ tag along?” She tucked a cigarette between her teeth, looking at her room visitors and speaking mottled, “What about y’all?” She delved into her back pocket, retrieving a yellow piece of note paper, “Ah, Cordelia and Fiona made a wish list, for tonight’s Ceremony meal, so I gotta’ get that stuff, too…” Eyeing Kyle, she nonchalantly added, “Aden, light me up. I’m practicing self control.” She could already imagine his response.

Yeah, Pell, or just laziness.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Jacqueline Emilie-Marie Lavaeu Character Portrait: Silas Abernathy Character Portrait: Kyle Spencer Character Portrait: Pell Laveau Character Portrait: Hale Bjarki Character Portrait: Rowe McDermott
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Arturo had finished his patrol of the schools grounds, it gave him a chance to go outside. Of course He had his limitations. there was a border around the house that prevented him from going any further, like an invisible boundary that could force him back a few feet if he ran at full speed at it. He had done that many times when he was first cursed he wanted to get out and be free, after a long while he got used to it and found a place to call home even if it was his prison.

He watched as a new student entered the house, he watched from a distance like always. Seen and not heard. That was Arturo. He watched as Kyle almost took the front door off its hinges. That by was like a new born deer, unable to find his feet. Oh how he would love to chase down a deer and feast on the flesh, a soft growl erupted in his throat at the memory of hunting with his family. Arturo sighed softly and continued to walk around the school grounds, Hale disappeared on a bike.

He cam to the front door and checked the door that Kyle had more or less gone through, it looked okay no hinges broken or splintered wood. Arturo smirked a little and began to walk around the house his nostrils twitching at the smell of smoke, cigarette smoke. He rolled his eyes a little how many times had he told the students to not smoke inside. It made the house smell, with his enhanced smell it was a hideous odour.

Finding the source of the smell he knocked on the door frame with his knuckles lightly, looking at all the students in one room. " Good Afternoon everyone. Would you mind either putting those cigarettes out or stepping outside with them. Cigarettes both stink the house and are a fire hazard we don't want the school burning down do we?" He tilted his head a little.


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Characters Present

Character Portrait: Jacqueline Emilie-Marie Lavaeu Character Portrait: Silas Abernathy Character Portrait: Kyle Spencer Character Portrait: Pell Laveau Character Portrait: Aden Orchau Character Portrait: Arturo Christobel DeGari
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When it came to newcomers, excitement usually got the better of Kyle a majority of the time. And when it did, he usually got frowned upon and either scolded, got awkward glances, or received extremely blunt and verbal grunts of disgust. Everyone was different so each reaction was painfully and awfully unique, but that never stopped him from his bubbly first impressions.

With Kyle's first misconception of Silas' name, he half expected him to be long and lanky with all sorts of imperfections and oddities about him, like some sort of unfruitful vine. And he was half right, he supposed. He certainly was tall...er. Taller. Taller than him. Was that considered tall? As soon as the man had laid eyes on him, Kyle's beaming personality burst through his shining teeth in his toothy grin. He took good care of his teeth, unlike his hair. He didn't want to seem like he was decaying anymore than he probably did. And yellow teeth and bad breathe wouldn't help his case. The case that he wasn't falling apart that is. Because he wasn't, honestly. He couldn't even remember the last time something came off of him.

Well, that was a lie, because he remembered the time he was dismembered. He just didn't actually see it though, so he supposed that was the last time something came off of him. And he hoped nothing would come off of him again.

Kyle remained where he was, even after Silas managed a hello to him through the door. But he didn't stay long after Pell invited him inside in which Kyle pulled himself into the doorway. About to step inside, a warm sensation ran through his hair, and with brows furrowed, the blonde turned quickly to the student who walked past him. He should have known. But once he was done, and Aden sat himself on the bed beside the purple haired, fair young lady, Kyle scurried his way into the room, shifting his weight between his uneven legs starring at the man. His smile only faded slightly as he observed him with impatient eyes. He waved his hand in a short fit of rambunctiousness, but his hands quickly grasped each other, playing with one another like some sort of game.

He looked very different than the other witches here at the school, and Kyle didn't particularly know what to think about it. And thus far, he acted a little different too. Still not knowing what to think. But he liked it. At least he thought he did. "Hi." He finally managed to say, holding out his left hand, which was usually less disturbing than his mix and matched right hand. "I'm Kyle." He's perfected that introduction. Kyle did try his best after all to seem like he can communicate normally, no matter how frustrating it was. And since he says it so much, the line, along with a few other phrases and instructions, had started to come naturally to him. Now all he had to do was do that with... just about everything else. "Silas?" His head quirked to the side ever so slightly as he pointed to the man himself. He hoped he said it right.

Glancing over his shoulder at Pell with his quirky, scarred lips still pulled into an enthusiastic smile, he listened to her call to Jacqueline who he had just passed in the hall, then make a small announcement about grocery shopping. Something Kyle didn't like to do much of. Again, the faces and disgust usually got him flustered, and that wasn't a good thing by any means. Kyle merely shook his head, looking at Pell but hand still stuck out to Silas.

Though, one would have thought there was some sort of party going on in the room, because it wasn't long before yet another person entered the room. And with every party, there was a party crasher. Kyle's smile melted away like ice in the sun and his discoloured eyes looked away from the man in the doorway. Eyebrow's twitching between raised and furrowed, Kyle stayed still like a statue until the man's request was complete. Once it rung through the air, the young man returned his gaze to Silas, bringing up another friendly smile onto his face.

"Tour?" The poor guy probably needed some help getting around. People usually did.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Jacqueline Emilie-Marie Lavaeu Character Portrait: Silas Abernathy Character Portrait: Kyle Spencer Character Portrait: Pell Laveau Character Portrait: Aden Orchau Character Portrait: Arturo Christobel DeGari
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Jacqueline watched as the students came and went. Not a word uttered, she was odd that way, despite how her appearance was, she was like a spider, beautiful yet terrifying, and silence and patience.
”Jax!”
A grin twerked up her the edge of her lips. Pell. She turned and made her way into Pell’s room where a few people had already gathered. Jacqueline smiled at the others, soft but wolfish. ”Oui?” She answered her lavander haired cousin. “Wanna’ run into town with me? Last minute shopping shit for Ceremony. ‘Sides, kinda’ want to scale that new boutique, corner store, thing.”Pell asked in her sweet country twang.
Jacqueline mused over this, it was their off day and while she would likely have gone off to study some place, she wouldn’t mind an outing. She loved the French quarter and wouldn’t mind seeing it.
“Certainly.” She said with a shrug, her accent making each syllable more pronounced. "Aden!" Pell spoke suddenly and Jacqueline merely arched an eyebrow. She swore sometimes her cousin had the attention span of a three year old, "He's new. Don't be such a bitch." Jacqueline snickered as she walked inside, leaning against the wall now. “And, I could use a really freaking stiff drink,” Pell added and Jacqueline cocked her head. “Don’ you t’ink it’s a bit early for dz’at?” She asked her incredulously.Image Not that Pell was listening to her, as her attention was back on Aden again and went on about cigarettes.
Jacqueline much preferred the smell of burning sage then burning tobacco, her gaze wondered then to the blonde boy and the dashing fellow he was speaking to. Curiosity was building in her mind as she gazed at them but it faded quickly as there was knock at the door behind her before it opened.
Arturo Degari, a lovely piece of man who reeked of magic appeared.
Image " Good Afternoon everyone. Would you mind either putting those cigarettes out or stepping outside with them. Cigarettes both stink the house and are a fire hazard we don't want the school burning down do we?" He suggested, though it was more of a command.
She turned her eyes to him, allowing her gaze to travel slowly up his body.
“It is like telling a fish not to swim.” She told him only her head turning toward him. “Or a wolf not to ‘owl.” She added with a sensual grin. It was a shame he was Fiona’s play thing, Jacqueline would have nothing more than to see who much of an animal he really was. “You shouldn’t waste your breat’ on t'e meaningless, Mon'ami

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Jacqueline Emilie-Marie Lavaeu Character Portrait: Silas Abernathy Character Portrait: Kyle Spencer Character Portrait: Pell Laveau Character Portrait: Aden Orchau Character Portrait: Arturo DeGari
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Aden shot Pell an unamused look out of the corner of his eye when she hit him with a pillow. He didn't expect any less behavior from her, but he also refused to encourage it in any form or fashion. As usual, her attention didn't stay on anything for long, and she moved on from his presence to calling Jacqueline into the room.

He offered the newest addition to their little gathering a slight wave as he pressed his cigarette back between his lips. He didn't particularly care what the girls were talking about until he heard his name again, and simply arched an eyebrow when Pell chastised him for his attitude before continuing her conversation.

Aden shrugged slightly and leaned back on his free hand, watching Kyle scurry his way into the room and wave excitedly. Idiot, Aden thought, but perhaps Kyle's enthusiasm for people was addicting even to him. Kyle did a good job introducing himself, and then picking up New Kid's name, which was apparently Silas. Even if the scene was entirely too much like Tarzan, at least Kyle managed and it didn't end up in a fit.

Hearing his name again, Aden glanced over at the girls once more, gathering he'd been asked to tag along to town. Both his eyebrows rose this time. Honestly, he had no desire to do anything related with Ceremony. He wouldn't even attend the damn service if it wasn't absolutely, completely, unarguably mandatory (and it was – he'd tried getting out of it before).

Before he could open his mouth to say hell no, a new person presented themselves at the doorway, and seriously, since when did Pell's room become party central? Arturo Degari, also known as Fiona's fucking guard dog and a general pain in the ass. Aden chuckled softly at Jacqueline's response to the request, so much more eloquent than he could ever manage, before taking a long drag from his cigarette and letting the smoke blow out as slow as he could. With a smirk, he snapped his fingers, lighting up Pell's own cancer stick while he was at it. Normally he would have offered some deadpanned comment about her laziness, but sacrifices could be made in favor of blatantly ignoring an authority figure.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Jacqueline Emilie-Marie Lavaeu Character Portrait: Silas Abernathy Character Portrait: Pell Laveau Character Portrait: Hale Bjarki Character Portrait: Rowe McDermott Character Portrait: Aden Orchau
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Jessica Bambi Soullet looked at the time, seeing that she was late. -Shit, I'm going to miss class again.- Bambi said, tying her greasy hair up and pulling on a clean shirt. She glanced down to see a diagram of the anatomy of a Pika printed across her chest. Bambi grinned and pulled on a pair of polka dot socks and along with her favorite Vans before hopping out of the room.

As Bambi jogged out of the boarding hall, she slipped on a pair of headphones. Turning up her music as loud as her phone would allow, Bambi slid down the stair's banister and out the door. Stressed, she didn't even notice that her coat was starting to burn. She suddenly felt a searing pain on her right shoulder. Bambi jumped and flailed her arms against her shoulders pitifully as she ran towards the main building.

As Bambi neared the school, she slipped off her headphones. She hid her face from the strange boy under the tree; Road? Something like that. As she hurried past him she racked her brain for a slight inclination but could not remember his name for the life of her. She said in his general direction before she burst through the front door.

The air of the place was full of noise. It was too loud, breath taking. She put her headphones back on, hiding herself from the distinct noise of the mind. It was like a constant buzzing in her ear. She had to shape and reshape the images that matched the muddled voices. Her clairvoyance was still too weak to hone in on one mind of silence the others, which often drove her mad. Out of all of these weirdos, she was possibly the least skilled...

Bambi glanced up in time to see Madison, discontent contorting her face. She caught Bambi staring and glared. Uninterested in arguments, Bambi adjusted her headphones, looked at the floor and scurried away. Bambi began to make scary faces at the floor; compensating for her cowardice in the heat of the moment. -You're pathetic. If you don't find courage, you won't grow.- her mother's voice rang in her ears. She clenched her fists in embarrassment, knowing that the stronger clairvoyants had surely heard her.

//Sorry I was away. Death in the family.

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Character Portrait: Jacqueline Emilie-Marie Lavaeu Character Portrait: Silas Abernathy Character Portrait: Kyle Spencer Character Portrait: Pell Laveau Character Portrait: Hale Bjarki Character Portrait: Aden Orchau
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Lazarus rolled around in bed for a while, trying to sleep. He had slept all day prior to going to the school. It was surprising, actually, that he couldn't shut his eyes. Most of his days consisted of eating, drinking, and sleeping, with the occasional working on natural medicinal concoctions. He would need to work or off some energy first before sleep or at least stay up a bit longer, maybe check out the house a bit.

This place is weird, Lazarus kept thinking as he looked around, especially at the portraits. Not so much because it was a coven, Lazarus was from an old European House, which was as weird as it came, but because the coven was trying to mask itself as a normal boarding school. It was doing a poor job of appealing as normal school to other witches or even hunters. Especially with its long list of supremes hanging on the walls. In Europe there were versions of supremes in every coven, eventually answering to a grand supreme in either the west or the east. However, none were nearly as powerful as Fiona Good. This coven was renowned for power as well as a history of power vacuums during times of instability. That's just the way the American covens were though.

As he continued to walk around, Laz heard a lot of sound coming from one of the dorm rooms. Upon walking in front of the opened door room he found a ton of students inside. There were three that caught his attention particularly. The boy he had seen on the balcony prior to entering the house, a blonde guy who looked as sluggish as the dead, and an attractive beige skinned girl with gorgeous hazel eyes.

"There party in here or do you all just live in the same room?" He asked the group of people.

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Character Portrait: Jacqueline Emilie-Marie Lavaeu Character Portrait: Papa Legba Character Portrait: Silas Abernathy Character Portrait: Kyle Spencer Character Portrait: Pell Laveau Character Portrait: Rowe McDermott
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Pell Laveau






Pell’s distaste for her natural lineage was attempting to fight its way through her expression when she fully comprehended the powwow taking place in her bedroom. It stiffed its own efforts, making it as far as a two rows of gritted teeth. The cherry on her cigarette dimmed and disintegrated. Past supremes must have been rolling over in their graves. Craft was becoming a sullied social assembly. Not that Pell personally took any offense, she more or less hated feeling like she owed reverence and high standards to the governing coven queens before her. It was a force of habit. It was a lingering legacy from Andrea. Her mother. Respect your elders. Embrace your bloodline. That sort of thing. She could hear the romance and sincerity of a nearly forgotten maternal tone in her head, some longed for spirit she would never see again. It struck a nerve.

Why did you have to let him take you?

No, he wasn’t real. No way he could be.
Just seemed a little too batshit. Who sacrificed themselves to voodoo divinities anyway? Pell’s thoughts intensified. A curtain hissed as it went up in heated color. Pell nonchalantly pressed a thumb and forefinger to her temple, gaze suddenly sweeping the floor. She was anxious from the abundance of excitement in her room, and as she lifted her perspective so that it could find Fiona’s dog, she maintained this sort of cold temperament with little true emotion behind it. A sigh escaped her throat. Fingers relinquished their pity on her memories and snapped with a distinct ‘pop’. Ashes fell to the pine floorboards, window left bare. The spontaneous fire disappeared and took the curtains with it. The room sort of fell silent as she got to her feet, a slow draw bringing a coffin nail to her mouth so that she could pull the nicotine into her lungs. She inhaled deeply. Her cheeks further hollowed, quiet foot steps tugging the attention of Arturo. Her friendliness dissolved into the mood swing of a fleeting memory. There were those problems with authority again. A mass of thick smoke gushed over Arturo’s face as Pell exhaled and clouded his otherwise wolfish, handsome features.

Her air didn’t change when the tobacco and smog faded. She shrugged, some vague agreement on her cousin’s statement. Like telling a wolf not to howl. Dead silence. She pinched the cigarette and pressed its smoldering remainders into the pale flesh of her palm. Pell was resolute, her skin singed and blistered as a good three or four layers of it blistered and peeled away. “All bark,” she crooned, grabbing a purse and squeezing past Arturo and Kyle, no final looks exchanged with Aden or even Jacqueline, “and no bite.” Poor Silas, must have been terrified at that moment. His country corners, his ironed sweaters and handshake gloves. Would he last a week with Pell as a roommate?

There was no goodbye, no explanation, no beckon for those invited or interested to follow. If they wanted to come, they would. She was through with fine print invitations and congeniality. She just sidestepped and exited, fay lavender hair swaying behind her. Even though she thought to stop, to formally greet the other visitor, a shaggy haired serene individual who had no problem inserting himself, she realized at that point there was no point. The general flock of bedroom guests grew out of hand and attracted more than she bargained for. Or was it her own fault? Arturo had the nose of a bloodhound. Damn! It was her fault.

ImageThe breaks in what would be spiral stairs if not for grand landings every tenth step found Pell catching a doe-eyed redhead in her arms. Static music pooled in their brief haphazard clinch. Pell furrowed her brow, suddenly shrugging the girl away. Madison’s silhouette swayed and vanished in the distance. Pell noted the dangling headphones as she mused, “You should tell her to fuck herself if she even looks at you. Scampering away like a kicked puppy will only encourage her.” With a heavy breath Pell grabbed the girls fists and unballed them in spite of the fresh injury on her own hand that had started to slowly throb. Her expression softened. A half-smile yanked at her mouth and released a toothy grin, “You know there’s no class today, right? It’s Ceremony.” She laughed, nudged the girl and continued on her way out. When she passed the ancestry room, Rowe of course was isolated and binging on whatever, mumbling and sinking into a couch cushion.

“You’re going to get fat,” she called wayside, satire in her voice, twang on its extremity, “Throwing things and eating bread isn’t really a real regiment.” Apathetic to everyone, she kind of rolled her eyes. She made her way outside, sun scattering over her skin as she hopped down the front stairs and let the rhythm of her walk catch in her swinging hips. A pair of white sunglasses were pressed onto her face as she looked into the horizon, happy to just get out of the ‘house’ and get some shopping done.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Jacqueline Emilie-Marie Lavaeu Character Portrait: Silas Abernathy Character Portrait: Kyle Spencer Character Portrait: Pell Laveau Character Portrait: Aden Orchau Character Portrait: Lazarus Foreza
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Jacqueline watched her maudlin cousin storm out of her own room, just as the dark haired boy entered. She sighed heavly. It didn't take much to set Pell off, it never has and there were countless times Jacqueline run off after her before she did something foolish, but quite frankly, Jacqueline wasn't sure she was up to the task at the moment, she gotten very little sleep, which made for very little patience. Arturo put her in a nasty mood, and while she meant to met up with her to shop, she wasn't about to do it at the moment, not until she calmed a bit.

"There party in here or do you all just live in the same room? The dark haired boy asked and Jacqueline looked at him.

"You must be new." She mused aloud. He was a handsome one, a dark sort of handsome that got girls in trouble. Not unlike Arturo, only as far as Jacqueline was concerned, this lad was accessible and not soaked in magic.

"Dz'is be my cousin's room, now dz'at she's gone, I suggest everyone who does not live 'ere. Vacate. comme maintenant" She said and the tone on her voice, whether they all spoke French or not, told them she meant, 'Like now.'

She gestured to the door before walking out herself. "I am Jacqueline by dz'e way." She said offering her hand to the new boy. " Jacqueline Lavaeu-Ayers. My friends call me, Jacq" She told him.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Jacqueline Emilie-Marie Lavaeu Character Portrait: Silas Abernathy Character Portrait: Kyle Spencer Character Portrait: Pell Laveau Character Portrait: Aden Orchau Character Portrait: Lazarus Foreza
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To Silas's knowledge, he had been called a "freak" to his face exactly three times in his lifetime(Auntie Lavinia always hinted that there had been another, but he hadn't the foggiest idea when that could have been and she certainly wasn't talking). The first had been as a child in the distant memory of Baltimore. A neighbor boy had given him a once-over, judged his little suit and matching cravat poorly, and had thrown the word like a casual bullet- unthinkingly and painful (His mother had refused to make him apologize, tossing out a casual "boys will be boys" cliche. The verbal lashing his aunt had given them- the boy, the mother, and her husband when he eventually came out to see what the ruckus was- has been said to linger over their previous neighborhood as a warning to all disrespectful parents). The second had been an older woman at one of his aunt's parties, too drunk to censor herself (she was never seen within their social circle again). The third, distressingly enough, had been the first date he'd ever been on (a girl, much to the general public's shock), apparently distressed by his refusal to hold hands and the vague, "freaky vibe" he gave off.

Those are, of course, only instances where he's been told he was a freak or, if people were feeling more charitable, was acting like one. The instances where he knew that was what people were thinking, well, he'd quickly lost track of those. They'd been more frequent in Baltimore and sporadic throughout his young adult-hood. Strange looks, leaning away, round-about comments, and pinched facial expressions- yes, he'd become quite the connoisseur. So, that was why he could say with some certainty that he had already made an extremely poor first impression with his roommate and her collection of friends.

Pell was kind about it- really, she was, especially since he hadn't given his own avoidance of skin-to-skin contact the gravity it deserved when slipping on his gloves. And, really, when had telling someone not be be offended ever really work? Her friend with the cigarette, Aden as Silas would later learn from Pell's scoffed reprimand, was decidedly less so. He descended like a particularly rude crow, all black clothes and tattooed flesh, sweeping into the room with a self-assured swagger that Silas was slightly envious of. Silas shifted stiffly on his bed, partially due to the heat (the air conditioning was slowly soothing that ailment right now, although he could feel the sweat cooling unpleasantly under his clothing) and partially due to the general discomfort that was being Silas in a house full of new people. Of course he was for real, Silas thought quite uncharitably, because he hardly thought that anyone would still be wearing a suit in this weather if they weren't terribly committed to being themselves. Or maybe this was more hazing, a more gentle approach than Madison's verbally violent tirade.

There were more people now, apparently materializing into existence since he'd seen none of them during his initial arrival. There was another girl, exceedingly pretty like many of the girls here but in a different way that the fae-like Pell and apparently provocatively testing the boundaries of decency in her outfit. Silas averted his eyes on instinct when her eyes flickered over to him, hands clasped together tightly in his lap as the beginnings of a blush dusted his cheeks. It was probably the way she moved that did it, aware of how she looked and embracing it bodily. Her arrival was followed by a broad and casual invitation from Pell, something about Ceremony meals and boutiques to drag the straggling students out into town.

Before anyone could answer, another person, a man in all senses of the word with a mix of height and muscles that would have sent Auntie Lavinia's female friends into a flurry of tittering giggles and fanning motions. Definitely not a student, Silas decided as the man leveled a casual warning about cigarette smoke on those in the room (good on him for that because the only foul smelling smoke he'd ever gotten used to was his Aunt's incense). And, really, was everyone here a model or something? Silas found himself craving the presence of Ms. Snow's, his aunt, his prior social circle, all attractive in their own, unique way, in a way that he was used to, and in a way didn't make him feel like a gangly mess in nice clothes that were starting to wrinkle from a long day of traveling.

Okay, perhaps they weren't all model-like, he was forced to admit when their first guest (the only one for both himself and Pell if only because the others seemed intent on ignoring him or, in the case of Aden, poking at him) finally spoke. But even he was admittedly attractive if in a slightly raggedy-andy sort of way. He finally spoke amidst the chaos of people apparently using his new room as a social hot-spot, words slow-coming and simple, gestures applied in such a way that this could easily be a silent pantomime and Silas still would have understood the implications. It wasn't really off-putting and Silas found himself standing once again, moving to shake the other boy's hand. Perhaps it was desperation on his part, but the very fact that he'd met someone who seemed genuinely glad that he was here and not simply tolerant or curious was one of the highlights of his week let alone his day.

"Yes, I'm Silas. I'm very delighted to meet you, Kyle," He said, the same enthusiasm that had been dramatically tamped down by Madison's verbal lashing, Pell's casually cool demeanor, and the general attitudes of his new classmates bubbling back to the surface. The handshake was far less awkward that his greeting with Pell if only because the gloves were already on his hands and he didn't look like a particularly insane and paranoid germaphobe.

There was a moment when Kyle's smile and friendly gaze died on his face leaving Silas confused and a bit weary- had it been something that he'd done?- before it reappeared, much to Silas's relief. The offer of a tour was a ray of sunshine during a dreary day, a way to find out about the place he would be staying and, alternatively, an excuse not to tag along with the town outing. It wasn't that he didn't like Pell, no, she was a very lovely person as was everyone here probably, but he didn't want to try her her patience by tagging along like a particularly lost puppy, a responsibility rather than a friend to pal around with at this point.

"Yes, please," he replied, smile growing larger in his relief. "I'd love a tour."

Oh, bother, and now there was someone else in their room, another Adonis-like man sweeping in with a line so casually fitting the situation that Silas was left with lingering traces of envy. And then no one was putting out their cigarettes which was a shame, really, and left Silas wanting to inch towards the window and crack it open just a bit (either that or pull out one of the incense sticks or scented candles Auntie Lavinia had stashed away in his luggage). He might have too if it weren't for the fact that the curtains were on fire. Well, were on fire in the past tense. Right now they were just ash on the floor.

The room went silent, the cacophony of predominantly Southern voices fading. The only movement in the room was Pell, sucking on her cigarettes before letting the noxious fumes flow into the only real adult in the room's face before crushing the burning stick in her hands. Silas could practically smell the singed flesh it left behind as Pell sashayed from the room, a purse in her unhurt hand and a lingering jab. To say that he was stunned wouldn't be fair- he'd seen far worse from people he knew far better, but he was left in a bit of a daze. This entire day had left him in a bit of a daze, this entire week as well. And now his roommate, arguably the person he knew best at this point, had somehow incinerated their curtains and left her gaggle of acquaintances and friends in their shared room without a second glance.

The only other girl in the room, the only one to have truly been invited in apart from Kyle, quickly ordered everyone out (most likely to follow after Pell on her trek into town) and if Silas had been more comfortable in the situation or knew her any better he would have thanked her heartily for saying what he didn't have the courage to say himself. But he didn't know her and her attention was on prettier prizes than Silas.

He had three choices now, that much was clear. One, he could hide in his room until he couldn't anymore. Two, he could follow Pell and probably the crowd into the world outside in search of new curtains. Or, three, he could see if the only person he trusted to not either leave him stranded somewhere or lock him in a closet for fun was still up for that tour and, if not, go with plan two. And if that didn't work, plan one still existed.

"I don't suppose," He said, words a little abrupt at first before he finally shook off the last remnants of surprise, "I can still have that tour?" He turned to Kyle, eyes full of hope like a puppy begging for scraps.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Jacqueline Emilie-Marie Lavaeu Character Portrait: Silas Abernathy Character Portrait: Kyle Spencer Character Portrait: Pell Laveau Character Portrait: Aden Orchau Character Portrait: Lazarus Foreza
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The new kid, Silas, struck up an easy conversation with Kyle, and Aden didn't blame him - Kyle was easy to get along with. The boy genuinely liked people, was easily excitable, blah blah blah. Silas seemed to take to his friendly demeanor minor faster than he had to any of the others. Which was slightly ironic, if only because Kyle was probably the least normal person around the metaphorical dinner table. But, to each their own.

Pell lost her cool as quick as the flames that struck up in the room. Aden settled back on her bed, leaning on his forearms, watching with an amused smirk around his cigarette as she tried her damnedest to keep it together. He wasn't sure what had set her off, wasn't even sure he cared, but perhaps her 'practicing control' pitch had been true after all.

She was gone in a wave of smoke to the wolf's face that brought a grin to Aden's ever so stoic expression. He probably would have pulled that one himself if he had left first. That was the reason why he hated Pell just a little less than the others - she had just as much problem with authority as he did.

Jaq was talking to a guy he didn't know, someone who showed up just as the drama was descending, but she had a good point mixed in her accented english -- they were crowded in a room that wasn't theirs, and as the main room holder had made her very dramatic exit, it was only fair that they follow after her.

With a sigh, Aden pushed himself off the bed, pulled his cigarette from his lips and smirked at DeGari as he passed. "Trust me. If we wanted to burn the academy down, a couple of cigarette's are the least of your worries." Just as he was about to leave though, a thought occurred to Aden. He had no where to go. Back to his perch, where Mr. B would undoubtedly find him again, or into town with the others. With a sigh, he shot a look over his shoulder. "Hey, Zombie Boy, I'm going on that tour with you."

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Jacqueline Emilie-Marie Lavaeu Character Portrait: Silas Abernathy Character Portrait: Kyle Spencer Character Portrait: Pell Laveau Character Portrait: Aden Orchau Character Portrait: Lazarus Foreza
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ıllıllı ⓚⓨⓛⓔ ⓢⓟⓔⓝⓒⓔⓡ ıllıllı


Life was an exciting thing for the Spencer boy. Just about as exciting as the sun washing the rain away on a gloomy day. Anything that had an ounce of the altering substance almost always brought the widest grin on his face. But what usually pushed him over the top into bubbly giggles was when a bunch of it was all together at once. And seeing as the academy wasn't the most social of places, it was a rare sight to see when one observed more than three students together in the same vicinity, let along interacting. No matter how rebellious it was. All the talk and murmurs and walking in and out replaced Kyle's introductory smile with a beaming grin. It was all so precious, and Kyle was exceptionally glad that Silas got to experience it all first hand. Because until ceremony, there wasn't a very good chance this "party" would happen again.

But Kyle was often times oblivious to just how cruel some statements or judgements could be. Most of the time, sarcasm flew right over his scarred head and it never came back, and unless their judgements were worn on their faces, Kyle never actually noted opinions are sass until much later when contemplating the day's events. So at the moment, the undead really didn't actually realize how destructive the group could have been to the poor newcomer. Kyle was used to their banter and petty fights after all. So when Silas stood up, confirming Kyle's original suspicions about the young man being tall, he didn't fully comprehend the man's desperateness to find something friendly to hold onto. He simply took it as excitement to be here, and Kyle was more than happy to see that he was.

And that he wasn't overly terrified of his appearance.

ImageA major concern that the blonde always had when introducing himself to someone new, especially new to the academy, was that he might scare them away. Literally. His grotesque, Frankensteinian appearance never did an ounce of good when it came to first impressions, and more often than not it tampered with his otherwise friendly introductions. And Kyle didn't like it one bit. Usually by now, the scrunched up nose and the heavily creased eyebrows, which were often symptoms of disgust, usually were present on the unfamiliar face. If they hadn't already made an excuse to leave that is, making their way down the hall in a much too hasty manner. So it truly meant a lot to Kyle to see that someone was actually, dare he say it, excited to see him. And it only made his white toothy grin last that much longer.

Though Kyle would have preferred to actually shake the man's hand, not his glove. Gloves were good at holding in heat, but they were awful creations when it came to trying to gather it from the outside. That was always Kyle's favourite part of hand shakes. The warmth. Kyle could swear that people avoided contact with him like he was the personification of the plague. He may look it sometimes, but he wasn't at all, and no on knew just how infuriating it was to be that person that no one wanted to be around.

But maybe Silas had his reason to wear gloves. If Kyle produced any heat of his own, he too would invest in gloves, and wear them proudly he might add. But maybe Silas was cold too? He was wearing an awful lot of clothes compared to everyone else who always complained about the moist weather. The suit was nothing like the thick sweat Kyle wore, but it was still a lot to wear nonetheless. Was Silas dead? Kyle's duel coloured eyes narrowed ever so slightly, his gaze fixed onto his neck. Only if Kyle could read someone's pulse just by looking at them. That would make things so much easier.

Once the all too firm handshake was complete, so was Kyle's narrowed stare. He looked back into the gleeful and desperate hazel eyes of the man with a little too much longing in his own.

"Yes, I'm Silas. I'm very delighted to meet you, Kyle."

If once was clairvoyant, or if one could see the insides of someone's brain, on might be able to see or hear the ticking and turning clogs inside Kyle's head. It didn't take a genius to figure out what exactly Silas had said, but Kyle was no genius, and words weren't exactly his specialty. He understood most of the phrase, and it made Kyle happy no less, but he was puzzled by one word that was placed directly in the middle of the sentence.

The tongue of the Spender boy visibly flicked inside his mouth as he attempted to silently mimic the word. But it was harder than it seemed. Delighted. He knew what that meant. Of course he did. He just needed a second. Did he have a second? Trying to put two and two together to make four, the pale skinned young man started replacing the difficult word with words he did know. Sad, tired, mad. No, none of those. Happy. That had to be it. No one could be upset to see someone with a smile like that on their face. Delighted equals happy. Okay. Put that into his mind dictionary.

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Although the translation in his mind was slow, and his face slowly starts to become blank as he tried to think, the success of his understanding made him laugh with joy. Not only that but he was also glad that someone was actually happy to meet him. Or should he say delighted?

The commotion in the room that Kyle was overjoyed to see appeared to have drawn Silas' attention away from the matter at hand, despite him agreeing to allow him to show him around. Which Kyle didn't blame him. He was rather distracted too. The heat from the spontaneously combusted curtains were absorbed by his sweater in the best possibly way. He smiled as he crossed his arms over his chest to conserve it. Heat was a beautiful thing, was it not?

However, as quickly as this fire was sparked, it died just as so, ending it's prideful life in a pile of ashes and dust on the floor. One of which he'd probably have to clean up later. Kyle sighed softly. That's okay, he supposed. At least he got something from the poor pile of ashes. But now everyone appeared to be leaving. It was similar to the tides of the ocean the way that people piled in than swam out of places. But Jacq was right, after all. Kyle respected people's spaces, hence why he didn't enter the room until invited, and he didn't want to overstay his welcome, despite Pell no longer being present. Kyle didn't particularly like it when people entered his room unannounced, though that happened a lot quite frankly. But it would probably be worse if he had a roommate. But for violent reasons, he didn't have a roommate, and it was probably for the better.

As Kyle's narrowed mind started to wonder off it's path, Jacqueline made her announcement and short introduction, snapping Kyle out of his daze. His unbeating heart jolted in his chest as she offered his fragile hand to Lazarus, earning a smile from the zombie face passing by him. She really was elegant in everything she did, unlike the klutz of a blonde standing next to the pair. But it was nice to know that he wasn't forgotten in the midst of her ensnaring gestures, because Silas apparently remembered the tour that Kyle had offered a few moments prior.

Almost snapping his neck with the speed he turned to Silas, Kyle nodded vigorously. Why wouldn't he? They might have to leave the room, but that doesn't mean he wasn't up for it. It was his job after all. Limping his uneven way past Jacqueline with a calm smile, he past the threshold of Pell's doorway, hoping the vine of a man would follow him. But apparently not only will Kyle be directing a lost vine around, he was going to be dragging along a thunder cloud too. Hopefully this didn't end too bad. Kyle turned to Aden and nodded with approval. Kyle might need some help explaining things anyway. He could always use an extra pair of hands.

Just don't sew them onto him.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Jacqueline Emilie-Marie Lavaeu Character Portrait: Silas Abernathy Character Portrait: Kyle Spencer Character Portrait: Pell Laveau Character Portrait: Greyson Ault Character Portrait: Hale Bjarki
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Cigarettes was a habit most people in the Academy shared, Greyson included. Taking refuge under a shady tree in the garden, Greyson was able to avoid the madness inside of the house. Propped up against the tree with a large text book opened beside her and her notebook in her lap, she seemed like the exemplary student. Each page had her own notes on each herb or flower the book described, along with drawings and notes of what could be paired with it to enhance its properties or redirect them. Her short dark bob was disheveled, as if she hadn't done anything to it since rolling out of bed, which was true.

It wasn't uncommon for Greyson to slip out of the house first thing in the morning, on top of generally not being a very social person, she especially wasn't social in the morning when so many others were so chipper. On top of that there were new arrivals today, and that was like catnip to the residents. Greyson had seen hundreds come and go in the thirteen years she had been there, she hardly bothered with names anymore. There was one shaggy haired blonde that was escorted in, and Hale made his rounds, missing her and yelling up to Aden to greet the new boy, she counted her blessings for remaining unseen.

For a moment the girl just closed her book and watched the house unfold around her as she smoked her cigarette down to the nub. Soon she was the only one outside, until she saw Pell leave. The girl bounced with a sense of determination, and if Pell was being Pell it was most likely with the determination to snub authoritative figures. Fair skinned and dressed in all white, she could've passed as a dream with her lavender hair chasing after her. Lighting another cigarette, she watched Pell carefully as she left, swishing her hips. Shaking her head, Greyson looked back at the front doors as Rowe spilled out, seeming confused as usual until he finally went in his own direction once outside of the gate. It was funny how she barely spoke to her peers, but by spending her time as the fly on the wall she felt like she knew them better than anyone else.

Gathering her things, Greyson flicked the cigarette into the trash, partly aiming and mostly using telekenisis to move the butt into the bin, walking smoothly toward the house. The beating sun gleamed against her tawny shoulders, exposed to the elements, slim hips sashaying. She moved through the common area as if she owned the room, barely registering Jaq and who she assumed was the other newcomer, beelining up the stairs to her room.

Aden and Kyle were in the hall with the blonde she saw entering the house earlier, briefly making eye contact, her face set in resting bitch face. With a small huff she opened her door, which was recognizable by the many stickers covering the door and taped up drawings she had made herself, along with eerie cut outs from magazines of hodgepodge bodies. She'd had her own room since she returned after her gap year, another perk of being a lifer of the Academy. The interior of the room was customized to her comfort with dark velvet drapes and large pillows thrown into a pile on the floor. She closed the windows and the drapes, turning her stereo up loud as Lisa Hall's voice crooned over the speakers, lighting her candles.

Ceremony would be soon, it was time for Greyson to cleanse herself. She lit a bundle of sage, pinching from the bundle and setting the sage in the corners of her room, facing each direction. Sitting in the center of the room, Greyson drew a chalk circle around herself and took a seat, closing her eyes and taking deep breaths. She sat like this for maybe an hour before she was done, standing tall.

She collected her clothes and towel, going into the shower room. The sound of people could be heard in all directions of the house, she felt comforted knowing none of them were bothering her. Her life was simple - study, practice, observe. Her emotions ruled her, when she felt apathetic she did nothing but spend her time hovering over books or her potions, but when her emotions would peak in a sense of false euphoria she's lively and sensual, and often hit by the random mischievous mood she can become ornery and rebellious. Right now all she knew was that she couldn't face the monotony of small talk.

The water was steaming, hitting her skin with veracity, beating it pink. Rubbing a shampoo she made with jasmine and ginger she sang an old Simon and Garfunkel song her mother used to sing. Marx used to say there were glimpses of the old Lillith in the new one, that's what made him stick around so long. Sometimes when she was a little girl, Marx and Greyson would sit outside the bathroom door and hear Lillith sing:

Old friends,
Sat on their park bench
Like bookends.
A newspaper blown through the grass
Falls on the 'round toes
On the high shoes
Of the old friends.

Old friends.
Winter companions,
The old men
Lost in their overcoats,
Waiting for the sunset.
The sounds of the city,
Sifting through trees,
Settle like dust
On the shoulders
Of the old friends

Can you imagine us
Years from today,
Sharing a park bench quietly?
How terribly strange
To be seventy.
Old friends,
Memory brushes the same years,
Silently sharing the same fear.


The same song spilled from Greyson's lips like a lullaby from someone's youth. After the first run she hummed the tune to herself again she she exfoliated with the clay, charcoal and licorice soap she also made at her own workshop. Despite the certainty that other people would be waiting for the shower, Greyson took her time, emerging from the shower soft and smooth, rejuvenated. She changed into her all black garb and throwing on a jacket as she passed her room to throw her dirty clothes in the hamper and grabbing her cigarettes. She took a seat on the front steps and lit her ciggy, resting her chin in her hand as she leaned foward, watching the sun lower in the sky.

After her second cigarette, two heads of technicolor hair walked toward her, she recognized one as Pell. As they came closer she vaguely recognized the other girl from seeing her around town. She looked young, hopeful. Raising her eyebrows at Pell as she passed, Greyson gave a smirk - looking the girls up and down. "How cute, you've brought home a pet."

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Character Portrait: Pell Laveau Character Portrait: Greyson Ault Character Portrait: Violet Khiara Character Portrait: Aden Orchau Character Portrait: Arturo DeGari Character Portrait: Althea Cambridge
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//sorry I was gone so long, my grandpa died and I needed some time with the family. I have caught up on the posts since I left and will try my best to remain active.

Rather than going around making friends or dealing with ceremony -whatever the hell that is- Bambi decided to scurry back to her room and pretend she never met Madison. Pretend that the lavender-haired beauty had never seen her... Pretend she was home with her kid brother making fried ice-cream sandwiches.

She shuffled past many people, rather embarrassed that she had been so clueless. -Coward. say thank you to that nice girl. she bothered to tell you there wasn't class; which is more than I can say for the rest of these freaks.- Her mom's voice whispered in her ear.

"Shut up, bitch. You aren't even real." Bambi whispered to the voice scratching away at her sanity. She already had to listen to the booming voices of an entire school, the last thing that Bambi needed was a scolding from her dead mother. She ran outside of the crowded school. Bambi nodded at the occasional student -If only someone had bothered to tell you whether or not attendance at this so called ceremony is required. Looks like you will have to start up a conversation.- Her mom jested, causing Bambi to stop in her tracks. She glanced over her shoulder and saw Pell, dragging along another girl she didn't recognize. Having already bothered Pell once today, Bambi went in search of someone else, anyone else...

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Character Portrait: Silas Abernathy Character Portrait: Kyle Spencer Character Portrait: Aden Orchau Character Portrait: Character Portrait: Character Portrait:
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(I do apologize for the length or lack thereof- I just didn't want to inflict any more waiting/Silas's insanity on anyone than I already had to.)


For a moment Silas froze, a perfect statue with a pasted on grin, clasped hands, and wide, wide eyes like a deer caught in the headlights of a semi truck. It was almost like he was short-circuiting, a temporary “blue screen of death” taking over his mind. The only movement near his body was a single sweat droplet casually meandering down his neck and below his collar. Even his breathing stopped, chest still pushed out from a sudden inhale, oxygen trapped in his lungs. Another tour guide. He would be getting another tour guide, apparently, and it was his second least favorite person he'd met here so far (Madison still had the number one spot if only because her insults were more direct and creative). Oh, dear.

In times of panic, intense like life or death or less so like traveling the inescapable maze of social interactions that was life, Silas would prefer to be optimistic. A life of optimism had served him well growing up, had allowed him to survive some very gloomy situations, and Auntie Lavinia always seemed so terribly distressed when he seemed sad. It was just that, well, he’d had a very stressful day up until now. He'd been collected and taken from the only home and family he'd ever known, he'd been used as a metaphorical chew toy by the first person he'd asked for help, he'd succeeded in alienating or begin ignored by almost everyone he'd met so far, his roommate had burned their curtains and then abandoned him in a room full of strangers, and his one escape from a plan of enforced solitude with the only truly friendly person he'd met so far had now been intruded upon. So, yes, it took a moment for his optimism to kick in today. However, when it did, it kicked in with a gusto.

No, no need to worry, said the very same part of him that had kept him sane for so many years. He was sure that his new schoolmate only had the best of intentions. Haha, the joke was done, the (what he was still pretty sure was)hazing was done, and now Aden wanted to extend the proverbial olive branch by co-guiding his tour with Kyle. This would be a truly lovely bonding experience, and he would surely come out of it with a better understanding of both young men as well as, dare he hope, new friends. Yes, only good could come from this.

Silas didn’t really believe all that, not for a minute- he was optimistic not stupid. But it was a nice fantasy to cling to as a coping mechanism as he returned to the world of the waking, brain and body coming back online.

“Of course,” he said, dipping into his dwindling enthusiasm reserves. “The more the merrier, I always say. Shall we go, then?”

The statuesque moment had lasted around a second and was now casually swept away with a bobbing nod and a blessed return to breathing.

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Aden held no dreamy thoughts that he was pleasant to be around, any idealization that he had friends at all. He didn't want to be liked, didn't want his company enjoyed, didn't want people to hang out with. Aden liked himself just the way he was and it was fine if no one else did. Why try and build expectations of ones self that you couldn't live up to.

So he wasn't surprised when his company wasn't met with smiles and nods and shouts of excitement. He had always been a dark shadow behind others, and that was fine. Aden was who he was, and he didn't need anyone else. But he was also bored, so joining Kyle and the new kid was more for the sake of having something to do than appease anyone's desires but his own. Besides, Kyle was quite, and Silas was...

Fuck it, they were both annoying optimistic brats. But they were all he had to work with. Besides, they were friendly. Kyle loved company so much he didn't even try to say no to Aden. And Silas, for whatever reason, didn't either. Maybe he thought deep down Aden's soul was made out of pink, fluffy, care.

Joke was on him, Aden didn't have a soul.

"Cool," he said once they were both out of Pell's room and ready to go, leaning back on the wall and taking a drag from his cigarette. He would tag along, let Kyle do his thing, maybe explain some shit when the kid couldn't find his words. SO he motioned with his free hand for Kyle to lead the way, and hoped maybe a random bolt of lightening would strike him dead at some point.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Silas Abernathy Character Portrait: Kyle Spencer Character Portrait: Pell Laveau Character Portrait: Greyson Ault Character Portrait: Violet Khiara Character Portrait: Aden Orchau
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Kyle gave tours a lot. A lot more than one would probably think. But despite giving tours to every newcomers that stops by, Kyle hardly ever knew where to start. Should he just start in the main entrance way, despite it being obvious that that was the entrance? Should he show the important places first and then go to all the knooks and crannies? Or should he just go to the next room and work his way around like a snake? Some people liked it one way and other liked it another, often times getting confused and having to ask again where the bathrooms were if Kyle ended up switching the two preferred ways of learning around. It was all very complicated to the young man, and it may not seem like much to just point and say what the room was, Kyle took it extremely seriously. Far more seriously than probably what was good for him.

He even had drawn out a small route on a picture of the basic floor plan to try and figure it out.

But they were starting in a weird spot this time. They weren't entering the house or passing the main gate. They were in the student hall already, which was almost always the last place Kyle showed. He liked showing their room last because that way they can unpack as soon as they felt somewhat familiar with the house. But this is simply backwards. Silas already knew his room and dropped off his stuff, and now Kyle was at a loss trying to figure out where to end this small journey and how to end it on a good note.

But first things were always first.

ImageAfter the small trio made their way out of Pell's room and into a less busy section of the student hallway, Kyle turned to Silas, flicking a thick curl of blonde hair away. He held his hand out flat, palm facing the floor and he swiped it back and forth slightly as if to level the air out. "First." The first floor that is. "Second floor." The f was a little delayed but it was fine, really. But Kyle held his other hand above the first, leveling out the particles in the air in the same manner as the first. "Students." He said with a hint of a smile. Before, Kyle had always said kids, because that was easy, but he recently had been forcing himself to use the correct terms. So 'student' was a new term he taught himself, at least speaking wise. Kyle, once he had stopped moving the second hand, removed his first hand from the 'first floor' and placed it over top of the second story. "Students." Silas could figure out the age system later. He didn't need to know that right at this moment.

Finally, Kyle placed the second story hand over top of the third story hand for the final floor of the building. "Fourth floor, Staff." Staff was clearly much harder to verbalize, seeing as the 'a' was long and somehow the 'f's gained a soft 'r' sound, but it was good enough.

No, no it wasn't, actually.

" Staff." Kyle corrected himself, erasing the invisible 'r' this time around. The 'a' remained long.

He figured that that was a good place to start. Knowing which floor was generally used for what was good, basic information. Now the layout of the rest of his home would make at least a little more sense. The undead took only a moment out of his internal clock to wait for Silas' confirmation that he understood. But after that, Kyle didn't waste a second, seeing as he turned around and headed for the stairs.

There wasn't a whole lot going on down in the main entry way, seeing as Pell had already left for the store and all the commotion earlier had fizzled out. This didn't surprise Kyle at all, seeing as he was used to socialization generally being spontaneous and short lived. So Kyle didn't spend much time in the main entry way. Silas could figure what it was on his own. If he couldn't then Kyle would have some concerns. But they merely went by several of the basic rooms, the the large living area, the bathrooms, all of which only needed a title and thus only got as much.

But the three hit the dining room and Kyle stopped and starred. The table was set up for the five course meal that they all would have at 7, but of course the candles weren't lite and the plates and silverware weren't out yet. That was his job when the time came to it. There was a lot that Kyle wanted to say about the room, most of it having to do with ceremony, but as he stood there for several sends, he tried to filter out as much as possible as to not confuse the young man.

He should mention that ceremony is tonight, for sure. And he should probably tell him that it's at 7 and they'll eat in the dining room first. Those were a must. But he should probably leave the actual schedule of ceremony out. It'll generally be obvious once it starts, and he could always ask questions later. He should also mention wearing black, that was important too.

"Ceremon-" Wait, wait, you have to tell him this is the dining room you moron. Taking a sharp breath in, distinctly cutting off his previous babble, Kyle let it out slowly, turning to Silas with a smile, white teeth poking through his pale lips."This is dining hall." He held his hands out slightly to gesture to the space around him. Now you can talk about ceremony. "Ceremony starts here." Very rough around the edges, and it sounded as if Kyle was addressing someone named Sir E. Money rather than saying a word, and he stuttered ever so slightly in the spaces between the syllables, but it came out.

Stepping back a few paces, Kyle placed his hand on the back of one of the wooden chairs,"Meal," he then held up his hands, putting up one finger at a time until he reached,"Seven." Or rather, "At Seven. Wear black." Black was an easy word, and so was wear.

Nodding with a twitchy smile, Kyle let his hands fall back to his sides. His miscoloured eyes glanced at the tattooed young man with them. Aden was an interesting fellow. He wasn't the nicest student out of the small bunch that they had, but interesting nonetheless. The things he chose to say and the things he hose to do almost always confused him beyond belief. For instance, today. Out of all the time in the world for him to tag along on one of Kyle's tours, which he has never done before, mind you, why did Aden decide this one? Was Silas somehow different than any other newcomer to the lad? Or was Aden just getting fond of the idea of Kyle looking like a fool while trying to say something?

If Kyle thought about it, neither would be all too surprising, actually. After all, it's just like people to poke fun at someone who stumbles. New or not.

Lightly gripping his arm with his hand Kyle nodded briefly to Aden, but with a quick snap, he was locked onto the thin vine yet again. Vines were always more interesting than clouds anyway. It seemed like forever he stood there, chuckling in a shallow manner with nervous cheeks flinching into a smile. There were advantages to not having flowing blood. It saved you the embarrassment of turning tomato red at inopportune times.

With a sudden haste, Kyle practically launched himself into his wobbly stride. They exited the dining hall to continue on their tour, since there was still so much to show Silas. One of which was Kyle favourite. They passed through the main entrance area again, but this time, a rainbow, or perhaps a butterfly even, was somehow standing next to Pell. Who herself was carrying a obviously heavy bag. Eyebrows quirking up and down and his lips scrunched to the side of his face, the blonde walked over to the pair, seemingly forgetting Silas and Aden. He stopped and stood by Pell's side, putting his hands in his pockets and offering a curious smile at the rather startled young women who Pell apparently dragged here. Not the most opportune way of coming to the acedemy but he didn't know the circumstances so he shouldn't judge.

You really shouldn't judge at all but especially when you don't know the story.

But Pell's uncomfortable shifting with the bags drew Kyle's eyes to it instead. Leaning slightly over to see what's inside, he saw the butchered meat that he would have to help serve at ceremony. He was actually supposed to get it himself, the heavy lifting usually was his job after all, but Kyle always appreciated the help. But he didn't want the girl to kill herself doing it.

Grabbing the handles of the bags with a single hand, Kyle lifted the bag enough to allow Pell to not be the Leaning Tower of Pisa. Her wrists and hands were red as it is. From there, Kyle gently tugged the bag out of her grip. He needed to go to the kitchen to set up the table anyway. He could drop it off. Assuming Pell did let go, Kyle held both bags of sliced meat in his left hand, giving Pell a nod and a firm smile attached to his lips. He gave a very slight nod to the stranger, but he was kinda in a hurry now. He had to drop off the bags into the kitchen and finish up the tour with Silas in about a half an hour, and there was still a lot left to cover for the lad. He also had to get dressed and set up the table and he should probably shower. Augh, why didn't he think to get all of this done before the new vine arrived? Would have saved him all the trouble.

Just as Kyle turned around in a smooth circle, Greyson walked up to the pair and started making conversation. Kyle got a sudden chill down his spine. She was very different than everyone else, in a way that Kyle liked, actually, but he couldn't put his figure on why he always felt off when she appeared. It was as if he was expecting to be ridiculed or something similar.

But nevertheless, he smiled his signature grin to Silas and Aden, waving his free hand for them to follow him. He didn't normally show off the kitchen, not on the first tour anyway, but this was an odd situation. Why not show him? Would be kinda interesting at least. It was a pretty nice kitchen after all. At least in undead standards.