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Bambi (Jess) Soullet

"You fudging touch me I'll fudging kill you!"

0 · 334 views · located in New Orleans, Louisiana

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



Name: Jessica Bambi Soullet
Age: seventeen years old
Gender: lady parts
Weight: 112 pounds
Face claim: Felicia Day


Power(s): Clairvoyance and Pyrokinesis
Personality: Jessica (Goes by Jess or Bambi) is fierce. She is quirky and weird; not afraid to express herself. She is the type of girl who gets so caught up in a fandom that she stays up until five obsessing over it. She can be a bit mean to anyone who isn't a fan of the same stuff... Also, she tends to get impatient with people around her and always ends up alone. She is pretty geeky, yet for some reason won't be bothered with the idea of witches. The only reason she sticks around is because she is afraid she will set someone on fire. Again.
-Mother: Deanna Soullet (Deceased- fire)
-Father: Jacob Soullet (Deceased- unknown)
-Brother: Malcom Soullet (Unknown)

History: Bambi lived in a little two bedroom farm house just outside of Lawrence, Kansas. She shared a room with her little brother, Mal, and always told him stories about the monsters under his bed. She used to whisper to him about how they were going to pull him under and steal him away, how nobody would miss him... As she got older, she got angry. Like all teens, she was full of angst because her picket fence life was just a bit too dull. Around her fifteenth birthday, she began starting little fires. Not many, just the occasional school book or Tonka Truck... whatever had been annoying her simply seemed to burst into flames. Her mom, as you can imagine, was not happy about this. They fought, and on December 12, 2012; Bambi burned her mother alive. The bitch had it coming, she would tell herself as she packed her bags. Bambi doesn't know it, but her brother is the one who found their mother. He was twelve. Eventually, he dissapeared too, just like his sister- but he was not so fortunate.


Likes: Candor, tea, music, parties, tons of random shows/ anime, and of course... booze.
Dislikes: Fire, silence, frills, excessively nice people, and country music.
-Favorite song:
-Favorite movie: The Moulin Rouge
-Favorite show: She is SuperWhoLocked
-Sign: She is a cancer, July 5th.


So begins...

Bambi (Jess) Soullet's Story

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.

Characters Present

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: Pell Laveau Character Portrait: Rowe McDermott Character Portrait: Bambi (Jess) Soullet Character Portrait: Character Portrait: Character Portrait:
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"You're going to get fat," were the words called out that brought him out of his stupor. He had been finally settling in to a sort of dazed state, not asleep but not quite all there, when Pell had come over and spotted him on the couch in his current antisocial glory. He bit back the urge to make a snide comment back and she began to explain her statement. “Throwing things and eating bread isn’t really a real regiment." Rowe rolled his eyes, leaning back and tilting his head so he was looking straight at her without having to get up. There was a group with her, more people than he was used to seeing in one group, but didn't think much of it. If these were the ones left at the school, it would make sense they would all be flocking together to leave. And they were leaving, he was sure of it. Pell wasn't passing by the ancestry room just to bug Rowe, after all.

"Lucky for me I wasn't going for a real regiment," he said, stressing the last word. "Whatever the hell you meant by that."
ImageWith that he pushed himself up off the couch and stretched, causing several bones in his arms and neck to crack. It would have probably grossed him out actually, if it wasn't his own body. Pell and her herd were already moving on, and in a last second decision Rowe found himself walking toward the front door himself. On the way out he saw a red headed girl, who looked a bit flustered if he was honest. He couldn't really say why, no one seemed to bugging her in that moment. He paused before nodding at the door and looking at her.
"You coming?" he asked before walking past her to the front door. He stepped out to see Pell bounding- yes, bounding- down the porch steps to the gate. Rowe was watching people leave when the sun caught his eyes, causing him to wince and look down. He hated the sun, mostly because it hurt his eyes. He never could get used to bright lights, and really needed to invest in some sun glasses. Especially here, where it was either straight up burning bright or completely murky. He rarely saw nice "medium" days.

It took him a moment but he finally managed to look somewhat up without having to squint against the light. He walked out the front gate before stopping, realizing he had no where to go. He could obviously follow Pell, but he had no idea where she was going and if he'd have any interest in it. Not to mention he didn't really like big groups of people, and he was sure people would follow her. He didn't mind talking to people, not at all, but when there was too many people he felt kind of overwhelmed. Rowe instinctively reached in his bag for his phone before realizing it wasn't in his bag, it was on the floor. Smashed. Groaning, he decided on where he was going. He was going to go buy a phone, and a cheap ass one at that. He had no doubts that he could end up smashing another phone if he lost his temper, and he wasn't going to go buy another nice phone for it to end up trash.

With a sigh, Rowe began his walk into town, trying in vain to not let the bright sun bother him too much.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Kyle Spencer Character Portrait: Pell Laveau Character Portrait: Violet Khiara Character Portrait: Bambi (Jess) Soullet Character Portrait: Character Portrait:
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"She seems them walking in a straight line, that's not really her style,"

Khi's instant response to release herself from the grip and in order to free herself from the intense grasp of the strange girl, she let her hand phase through the skin but she did follow quickly and steadily after her because the girl had recognised what she'd done which meant she knew something about herself that Violet had to find out. She kept up with her gripping on her bag to her thigh to prevent it from flying around especially since it was such a heavy weight with her purse and her possessions in, though the bag's recklessly flight was nothing compared to the way psychedelic hair got wind-swept behind her, constantly chasing after her body until they stopped at a large set of gates and Violet turned to her with a slight glare that dropped when she saw how friendly and welcoming the girl's expression was.

"What the hell was that?" She asked with an arched brow momentarily disregarding the question about dinner. She stared at her ever so confused and her electric eyes buzzing thoughtfully and eccentrically as she tried to piece together where she was and what was going on. She turned in a circle on the spot, staring at what was around her- at the academy and it's grandeur. It was almost enduring or intimidating to encounter such a divine location- coming from an average background being invited into buildings like this was a dream to her or a foolish wish. She took in a breath and couldn't help chuckling a little as she looked up at the girl with heliotrope her, she wouldn't announce it just yet since it'd seem more than inappropriate but she did admire the girl's taste in hair dye but she had a wacky and peculiar taste in fashion herself. She pondered over the girl's question as she ran a hand through her multicoloured hair and caught her breath "I guess it'd give you an opportunity to explain why I feel like I've just been abducted off the streets- which would be sweet if you could explain why you've done that by the way," She added biting her tongue slightly creasing her pierced nose slightly as she pulled a thoughtful expression.

She looked around and noticing over people dappled around the area, a couple of girls and the more she looked the more people she'd spy and she figured it must be boarding house of some kind because under whatever situation would so many teenagers and young adults live under one roof?

Her mind instantly swamped with all kinds of questions, thoughts, theories, hypothesis', conclusions, guesses, hopes and fears about the place she was in and she didn't know what to voice first after making her confusion and obliviousness to their situation known. As she continued to pace a little within a one meter radius, stepping a little bit further into the area each minute she turned her head sharply and looked at the indigo haired girl who'd practically dragged her here like she was saving her from a tsunami of racing, angry, cannibal bulls. "Sorry to be blunt but what the hell is this place? Are you part of some kind of freaky ass cult or something?" She looked at her with an amused wide grin as she ran a hand through her tousled crazy hair and laughed softly at their situation- it was just so bizarre, two girls with quirky hair, in an opulent house after one saw the other perform an impossible trick and oh yeah- their strangers and there's no discomfort in the conversation at all despite the fact, they've just ran down a high street like they were about to be mugged by gangsters and had no idea who each other were. Yet, like always Violet took crazy in her stride and looked at the girl, her brow slightly quirked as she shut her trap for a moment to give the other girl long enough to even comprehend her questions and formulate an answer to give.

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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Pell Laveau

The lack of explanation and abundance of haste had method behind it. Mistakes, slip-ups, that sort of thing, simply could not be afforded. Not for witches. Not for those whose blood was a bounty when spilled. Pell of course realized she’d haphazardly dragged a helpless girl, capable of phasing, almost a half mile back to the academy. But there must have been some common understanding or at least bare curiosity. Because the stranger with the vivid hair didn’t break away, slip through. Pell had to give her credit where it was due.

Shuffling discord was heard as she dropped all the shopping bags onto the ivory walkway. Pell turned back to face the other witch head on, whose questions grew more hyperbolic and avid, hints of accusation laced in the words. Above, daylight still lingered, but only in dying bands of violet and dusky hue. Her parallel had a stare that yelled, “What the fuck is going on here!” Pell knew that feeling all too well. A dark silence passed between them. Gunmetal gaze sweeping, some red light flashing in her brain, Pell back stepped. The unease wouldn’t surface on her skin. She couldn’t blunder with a new girl potentially on the hook. But something was off. It was a smell. A sensation. Like a stench of quietus and carnage in the air. She tried not to wrinkle her nose and instead pulled back her lips to gleamingly smile. Apparently that wasn’t enough for the other young woman. How was Pell going to word this? How would she make it seem safe to an outsider? What could she offer besides food? And the worst part - who was watching? Or, what?

“Look,” the word was inhaled, low in tone, sincerity in the pitch, “I know. What you are. This,” she gestured to the looming building behind her, “Place is safe.” Still, puzzlement was scrawling itself all over the harlequin ingenue, tensing her muscles, a humored chuckle and gasp here and there attempting to make light of the bizarre circumstances. Pell took her wrists into her own hands, squeezing them lightly and keeping her voice quiet, “We are not a cult. We don’t have any weird practice aside from what we were naturally given. For you, it’s passing through. For me…” Gray jade eyes closed, Pell scraping her lower lip with a row of square teeth. In a neat score, all of the shopping bags began to hover busily and sort of bob toward the entrance of the school. “Pay attention,” she purred, “Very closely.” The grand double doors opened wide, granting access to a very eager grocery bundle. Behind those doors were no strings. No people. No rigs.

“We’re an academy. Safe place.” She turned on her heel, again. A trail of hazeled hair like pixie dust swayed behind her. “Obviously you could have made a break for it by now if you really wanted to, you know? I don’t blame you, if you decide to. Something just tells me that you won’t. You want to see what’s inside, and I really think you should.” Slowly Pell sauntered up the brief front stairs, pulling some tresses into her palms, “I can’t sit here and tell you everyone is great and you’ll make friends, we actually are super abundant in bitches, bad attitudes and mind control. All that shit, really. But you’ll have me.” A dash of self doubt came in the latter statement. But Pell liked to think it was well veiled. She gave a shrug and weakly dimpled, “I’m not a half bad guide. My name is Pell, by the way.” Standing in the vast doorway, she glanced at her iPhone in a lukewarm fashion, “If you like what you see, you can stay the night and hang around. See if it’s worth the research. If you want to lead your life the way you’ve been, even with the threat of being kidnapped and killed by men who put all their trust into holy water and blessed bullets, that’s always an option. It’s your life. Know this, though…” She peered back, “If they find you, you won’t know it until you’re bound and taken from your bed in the middle of the night. They will disable you, your powers, and any means of escape you think you might have. This shit isn't just in movies. Unfortunately it's real. I don’t want to scare you, I just want you to be safe. We’re a dying breed.”

Whether or not the girl chose to follow now was entirely up to her alone. Pell wouldn’t further the persuasion. She’d taken it as far as it needed to go. Pell chuckled grimly, “The more you know.” Pausing when she accidentally brushed Kyle, putting off his undead balance (which was bad enough without her fluky shoulder checks), Pell offered a revitalized grin. Obviously stepping out for a couple hours helped her to decompress. Softly she patted Kyle’s square shoulder, much different in form than the other. This was the way she regarded him if she ever decided to touch him. She knew touch was often associated with trauma for him, so rough or abrupt approaches may not do him well. The trace of warmth left on his shoulder would disappear in seconds. Slowly her chest rose, then fell, as she looked over Aden and Silas as well. She felt another sigh coming on. But, she choked it back. Silas’ aura was a bit less frantic and bewildered. Not quite at home, yet, but surely getting some bearing. “Hope the tour is going well, roomie.” She added with a nudge of her arm that didn’t even touch him. She was sure if she did, he might hastily step back and put on elbow pads or something before contact was made. Aden as per usual, had a sequence of thick smoke pooling in his mouth. His expression was dead and unamused, but Pell knew that in his head, there was mischief at work. She followed the smoke with her eyes. It absconded in an erotic fashion, forming a pithy curtain around his face.

“Potential fresh meat,” she mentioned to the trio of male inhabitants, “caught her at the cafe in public. Fuckin’ phasing through the table. Thought she might be a good addition to Ceremony.” Pell’s fingers curled, thumb extended as she pointed with it back at the girl whose mane mirrored the image of something one might see through a kaleidoscope. The hall they stood in was so wide. All throughout, the echoes of their conversation could be heard. Past supremes’ eyes followed the occupants from their unmoving position on the wall. Pell realized this may at first be very, very creepy. But hopefully, one of the boys would at least say hello and help erase some doubt.

“Anyway, grocery shopping is done,” she commented to Kyle as she sort of skipped to the staircase, eager to put on her Ceremony garb, “Gotta’ go change, maybe play dress up with the new girl.” During her giddy little caper, she passed Bambi’s room and heard a few muffled, scathing remarks which momentarily perplexed Pell. Something about shutting up and, “You’re not real.” Pell simply rolled her shoulders and furrowed her brow. The academy had seen stranger things than arguments or imaginary friends. She was done being the moral support crusader, at least until she got dressed and had dinner. As she scaled the foyer, she was happy to know that the AC had been turned off. Bobbin lace curtains and fixtures billowed at either end of the vestibule as they moved with the oncoming evening gale. It was almost holy and celestial this way. All trimmed and adorned in ivory finery. It would give a wonderful contrast to its residents, dressed as black as a Sahara night.

ImageStill ajar, Pell’s room welcomed her home. The bag filled with Ceremony fashions beat her to the bed. It sat neatly there, begging her to put the pieces on already. There was no composure left in that moment. Pell eagerly peeled her daytime clothes off, not caring about the open door. Her arms shot toward the ceiling, candles that encircled the bed spaces bursting into glorious flame, “Ceremony in twenty minutes!” Her shout echoed throughout the entire academy and even put such a scare into the candles that their miniature infernos danced to the side with caution. Pell was quite the enthusiast of Ceremony. This was probably due to the everlasting supply of gourmet food and wine. But mostly the food. God, did she love the culinary divinity of that school.

The slope of her hips came to widen slightly at the waist, silhouette warmly complimented in the soft luminescence of the tiny tealights placed around both beds. Happily she flicked a pair of thigh highs out of sight. She’d simply go barefoot. Next came an A-cut maxi skirt, and then the crochet-inspired lace crop top which struck up an elegant divergence to her porcelain skin. The topper was a thick black choker, tied in a petite bow at the nape of her neck. Her fingers threaded themselves through her locks as she sort of paced around the room, thinking of anything else she could add. Charcoal and licorice herb filled her senses. A playful smirk met her reflection in the window, her own indication. Greyson was probably soaking that beautiful tawny skin of hers, taking her time, unfazed by time matters. Or she was nearby. With that, Pell remembered to roll on a faint lavender perfume and nonchalantly decided to call something out down the hallway, when Greyson appeared. Pell stammered for a moment, which was a rare occurrence. But Greyson’s beauty had a habit of doing that to her. Leaving her speechless, kind of in awe, looking for any way to get a grip on reality before completely dissolving into a blubbering puddle.

“How cute, you’ve brought home a pet.”

Typical. That was just like Greyson in her sort of not-interested-in-attendees-or-their-powers way. And it wasn’t even just guest listed girls with their colorful hair that kept at Pell’s heels like a puppy. It was everyone. Greyson had charm and social grace, but she didn’t need to exhibit it. People gravitated toward her and more often than not, she could care less. She was long term at the academy and maybe her passion and zeal had burnt out over time. Either way, Pell liked her just the way she was. Her stare crawled all over the dark-eyed girl. “Sounds like jealousy,” Pell countered in a humorous tone, grabbing Greyson’s hand and pressing a mild kiss to it. “Don’t worry, you won’t be replaced. Besides, this one might not make it through the night."