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Jacqueline Emilie-Marie Lavaeu

"T'ere is more to life t'en what you see wit' your eyes, Remember t'at"

0 · 2,359 views · located in New Orleans, Louisiana

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

Description

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Name:
Jacqueline Emilie-Marie Levaeu-Ayers
Nicknames:(if any)
Neo-Voodoo Queen
New Voodoo Queen of New Orleans
Dollface
Emilie-Marie
Age:
18
Gender:
Female
Sexuality:
Heterosexual...most days


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PersonalityNo one expects Jacqueline to be such a book worm but it is true, she spends most of her time reading, and not just books, people as well. She is observed and patient, and knows how just how to maneuver in most any given situation; this has taught her to know a liar when she sees and hears one.

Loving and Kind;She will go to bat for you in an instant, and loyal to anyone she deems a friend. Even if they make a mistake, granted, she may chew them out something fierce but she'd be the only one allowed to do so.

Adventurous and Proud; she is proud of her heritage and wears it on her sleeves. She always wanted more for her life and was more then thrilled when she found there was more and with this new knowledge, she determined to learn all she can. She knows she's beautiful but also understands her worth, she doesn't flaunt herself, she just walks around with a confident aire which attracts many guys and girls in some cases

Quick Witted, Cunning and Clever; When she's angry, she has no qualms with starting a fight and or ending one, she can be quite vindictive as well. Most of the time, however she only uses her words, but they sting as bad as a punch. She has a slick tongue and has sass for days, most people don't know what will come out of her mouth next, or understand it half of the time. She can hang with the boys but also charm the pants off of them. Literally some times.

Curious and Determined, now that she knows what she is, she has embraced the life of Witchcraft and couldn't care less about material things, like fashion, celebrities and posting her every move on some social network. No; she spends most if not all of her time learning more about magic and what she can do with it. She is always jotting new things down in her Book of Shadows and can be found reading in a library reading old text and working a spell with her Boa Constrictor; Ming.
She spends all of her time with her magic and couldn't care any less about material things of the modern world. Some believe she may just be the reincarnation of Marie Lavaeu, The Real Voodoo Queen of New Orleans because of this.
[font=garamond] Skills//Talents//Abilities:

Potion making- She is quiet skilled with a potion recipe, it comes to her natural it seems

Photographic Memory- Since she was young, she was able to memorize things to an almost exact detail, a gift that has become very useful

Illusion Manipulation- To project, recreate illusions.

DreamWalking- Entering the minds while a person is sleeping

Dreamscaping- Manipulating and recreating a person's dreams


Weakness/Flaws/Defects
Terrible Cook- Potion recipes are one thing, Culinary arts, are another, her food would most likely send you to a hospital..or a bathroom.

Overusing Traditional Magic- Jacqueline has a tendency to over do it sometimes in her magic studies, she doesn't quite know her limits when has resulted in nosebleeds, dizziness and fainting.

Communicating with Spirits- She has been trying to figure out how she communicated with her great grandmother, but she hasn't been able to do it successfully.

Communicating with Ming: Ming only speaks to her when necessary, which hasn't been very often.

Quirks//Habits//Oddities:

Jacqueline has a strong French Creole accent, leaning more toward French, and she tends to drop the 'H's in a word, and over exaggerated her words

She purses her lips often, especially when annoyed or having just proved a point.

She tends to speak so quickly when she's anger, that, with her accent, makes it damn near impossible to understand what she says, which just pisses her off even more.

Likes
Herbology/Botany
Voodoo
Dreamwalking/scaping
Reading and Collecting Spells
Her French Creole accent
Dislikes
People mistaking Voodoo with Dark Magic.
Being Feared
People misusing magic.
Sleeping (She doesn't have her own dreams, she only invades those who are sleeping around her)
Fears
Becoming Lost in a Dream.
Losing her Book of Shadows


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History:
Jacqueline was born to one half of the pure line of Ayers, and the other half to the pure line of Levaeu's, making her a very powerful witch at a young age, being a direct descendant of Voodoo Queen, Marie Lavaeu. From the tender age of 2, Jacqueline was able to enter the dreams of her parents and alter them in whatever way she so wished, that made them believed they gave birth to Marie's reincarnation.

When Jacqueline was a mere ten years old, during a late outing with her father, she dozed off in the backseat and unfortunately her father dozed in the front. Jacqueline was pulled into his dream and was unable to pull herself out of the dream and wake her him before the car veered and hit a guardrail and jackknifed, killing her father instantly and injuring Jacqueline.

Afterwards, Jaqcueline found and immersed herself in magic, in hopes of controlling her strange and frightening ability.

By Highschool, Jacqueline was a proud witch, wearing it on her like a pin, she didn't care for designer clothes, or the hottest music or the newest technology. All She cared for, all she was interested in was magic and controlling it. She was dubbed by her classmates as the Voodoo Queen, not knowing she was actually blood relative to the Voodoo Queen.

She never gained much more control of her dreamwalking. She learned that could control what the dreamer dream and thus how to wake them up, though each person is different however she couldn't and still can't stop herself from being yanked into their dreams so when she moved out, she found herself self a small place in the Bayou where she can get rest, however she works in the French Quarter, where she helps run a small herb and spices shoppe that her mother owns.


Face Claim:Jessica Park Kennedy

Theme Song
Sticks and Stones- The Pierces

So begins...

Jacqueline Emilie-Marie Lavaeu's Story

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Jacqueline Emilie-Marie Lavaeu Character Portrait: Silas Abernathy Character Portrait: Pell Laveau Character Portrait: Hale Bjarki
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Pell Laveau





The air was still. On Wednesdays, it usually was. Without the demanding schedules of class, household was left to do really whatever they pleased. Even those under legal age. It was truly a one-of-a-kind school. In place of standard parenting came lenient supervision and the wave of a hand. Where most children would get slapped on the wrist, the academy’s were rewarded. Pell caught herself in a half eyeroll thinking about it, bulging sandwich in hand. From where she stood at the dining room table, she could hear no echoes or voices, not a single whisper. Eerily thawed by the afternoon gale, the motionless hallways were so hushed that they seemed to hum all on their own. Mostly everybody had cut and run for a bit of freedom. Wednesdays were a mid-week weekend up until Ceremony. The girls would clear out and break loose, a truly uninhibited flock of messy witches if Pell did say so herself. Not that she was tooting her own horn. She was just more reserved, with more humility forced into her by Marie Laveau, the voodoo queen herself. Pell wasn’t so brazenly audacious. It seemed to only be the girls, younger, mostly. Male inhabitants usually hung around and binged on food from the kitchen while mindlessly flipping through television channels in their rooms. Or in the case of Bjarki, a newer teacher, would douse their habitual cup of coffee with liquor and stroll around the property with a shit-eating grin, like all of this was just so normal, so peachy.

ImageSpeak of the devil, he was bizarrely chirring to himself as per usual when noise bled back into the Robichaux realm. If it weren’t for the open windows, Pell might not have acknowledged him. She padded into the main foyer, its palatial white walls somehow homely and heartening. Pell did love the place. It was so remarkably ivory. It just looked so clean. Like history hadn’t marred it a bit, not even with the bloodshed known to its former time. Pallid satin drapes billowed if not secured, summery Louisiana breeze seeping into the school and bringing the aroma of sweet lemon with it. In a half-assed saunter, Pell wandered toward the front door, a sandwich almost to her mouth when Mr. B burst back in. His inky eyes were alive with mirth. Naturally Pell couldn’t help but reciprocate the expression, even if in a slightly dryer manner. The young teacher was just so neighborly and as happy as a clam.

However, given the sight of the head of Council, Pell’s shiny beam slackened. What was she doing here? Pell leaned away, the muscles of her exposed torso tightening with ill pique. Unconcerned, Myrtle Snow marched past the defiant lavender-haired girl and her sandwich. In tow like some sort of tall, lanky puppy dog, came what Pell took as a new peer. Superintending the arrival, Mr. B was waggling and smiling, rigged out in a usual lightweight button up, tattooed arms exposed only because he couldn’t stand the humidity. Pell wondered how Myrtle Snow felt about all that body modification. She moved her gaze to the sheepish appearance again, diffident and apparently thinking way too hard. Pell gave him an uncurious nod, muttering, “Welcome to thunder dome,” sarcastically with a mouthful of food. Judging from the addled yet happily polite look in his eyes, he was without a doubt new to this. She didn’t hang around to investigate. Wasn’t her bag. Besides, new students were every other week lately, and she wasn’t on a hunt for friends.

The quiet echo of her walk’s rhythm reverberated briefly before she returned to the main dorming hall. At a snail’s pace she would scale the immense atrium, taking a cumbersome bite now and again from the bread and turkey grasped by her digits. Her elfin feet would wiggle some toes occasionally if the air conditioning was on high. For some reason, it was not. With a peek toward the floor, Pell wondered why she hadn’t dressed up or gone out. Could have been wearing a nice pair of creepers or a skirt. Sure, she was a bit worried about being exposed, but she’d been at the academy for weeks now. She could use a break. And if she kept up the boyish routine, she would be reduced to a bubbling mess of idiot just like all the others who parked themselves in front of a cable box rather than braving the New Orleans heat.

She pulled at the fabric of her cropped tank top, noting a familiar and elitist voice in the air. Pivoting on her heel, a small squeak emitted beneath, Pell wandered back to the entryway of the foyer, where she was not surprised to see the impotent puppy again. Anyone else would be astonished to see him braving a conversation with Madison. Let alone politely asking for guidance. But Pell? She knew the feeling of being a fresh face at Robichaux, how unyielding some of those bitches were. How it was similar to being thrown into a snake pit when you just wanted to know where the damn laundry room was. The worn fringe on her pale and torn jeans tickled her skin, gravity defied as she gently nudged a young man from the doorway, leaning in to smile smugly at the flaxen-haired big name. Unfazed Madison continued some biting speech, picking apart who she was calling a moron every other word. Pell grasped the door frame, allowing her to go on, even concluding finally with a deep respiration, as if she were going to extent the onslaught. Not inspired by Madison’s cliche take on a fashionable rebirth of ‘punk’ or her ridiculous diction that focused solely on belittling new arrivals, the Laveau girl remarked, “Wow! Madison! That skirt is so cute. You know something? It looks familiar…”

Madison paused to peer at Pell, a lip-pursing annoyance etched on her face as the purple haired girl proceeded. “Shit, I’d swear you wore it in a movie I saw. But,” Pell’s shapely lips slanted in a mock look of sympathy, “That’s right. You don’t get,” she paused and limply raised a finger, “parts in movies, do you?” Madison glared, a snarl on the tip of her tongue when Pell tossed a small remainder of sandwich at the bimbo, “You should probably eat. Cocaine catches up, you know?” Pell turned away with disinterest and gestured for the young man to follow.

She didn’t waste time making small talk, only asking his name, if he was excited, and his room number. Silas. He was excited, but there was some question on how convincing his statement was. And room 2D. A roommate had finally arrived, imagine that! Pell simpered, pushing open a white clone door which opened up into a fair sized space with two double beds, one decorated in ivory lace and a colorful quilt. “Hey sorry about Madison,” she chimed quietly as she seated herself on the embellished bed near one of two windows, “She comes from a big Hollywood family so she thinks she can be a snob to everyone. I’m actually amazed she’s home, usually on days off she’s somewhere getting sloshed or still sleeping at a frat.” Pell pulled a pair of shoes out from beneath her mattress’ frame, sliding into them as she peered toward the window, hollow cheeks sort of pulling in during a moment of thought, “Do you have any questions? Admittedly I’m not good at this stuff, to be honest, but I figure I’ll be more helpful than Madison. Plus it’s Ceremony, so no one will be home until they have to.”

"Well, regardless, I'm Pell," she extended her hand, "Guess we're roommates. I'm a Laveau, so don't let anyone tell you rumors without hearing it firsthand. Voodoo is not a dark art, it is not some... Rival-born race. I'm not part of the war, and neither is my cousin, Jacqueline. She also goes here." She could tell from the look on his face he was clueless. Sighing, she pinned a smile to her own, "Anyway, cheers to new roommates."

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Jacqueline Emilie-Marie Lavaeu Character Portrait: Silas Abernathy Character Portrait: Pell Laveau Character Portrait: Hale Bjarki Character Portrait: Rowe McDermott
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Jacqueline lay in her bed, looking up at the ceiling, watching the fan spin slowly. There were too many people here to sleep. She didn’t know why Marie suggested she come to this school, a boarding school knowing her ‘gift’, but thankfully, the administrators gave her the room furthest from the other students so it was less likely that she would dreamwalk.

They were wrong. Her reach was a few hundred yards. She knew what the gardener dreamt about....that was fun...
She often found herself in another person’s dreams, wet dreams to nightmares, and most time, she didn’t know what was worse. There was one student that had a crush on her once; it was something else to find herself in a dream where he was ‘sleeping with her’, and that’s putting it mildly, when she woke up, she found his scrawny ass and gave him the slap of his life.

That did nothing for his dreams, only that time she was a dominatrix. That’s when they moved her. It didn’t help that much.

She sat up and sighed. “Fuck it.” She groaned, she decided she’d get ready for the day.

After about an hour of that, she made her way to the commons, they were getting new students today, and didn’t want Madison getting her claws into them first. Poor noobs wouldn’t stand a chance if that happened. There was a whole war between Wiccans and Voodooism that was just a bore, She nor her Cousin had nothing and wanted nothing do to with it. Pell way more so than Jacqueline. Marie raised them both, having been the only family they had. Jacqueline was more closely related then Pell, given her olive skin and dark hair. Maybe Marie was playing favorites? She didn’t know for sure but she adored Pell, and when she left for this school, it nearly killed her but then Marie suddenly decided, despite the colorful protesting she did when Pell decided to enrolled—or enlist depending on who you asked, that Jac should enroll as well, Jac was confused but overjoyed. Pell was her cousin by blood, sister by heart.


Jacqueline was dressed in her usual attire, the school uniform that hugged her body in a way that was probably illegal, high socks that gripped her dancer’s calf, a short skirt that caressed her hips and sway tantalizingly when she walked, a tight top that teased the bounty of her chest, her wavy raven tresses the hung down her back; She looked amazing, and she knew it.

That was the thing with her, she knew what she looked like, how most men, and some women looked at her, her exotic features and French Creole accent, but she cared not an ounce. Power that’s all she wanted, Control.

She made her way to the commons and smiled at the newcomers, waiting for someone to approach. They always did.

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: Jacqueline Emilie-Marie Lavaeu Character Portrait: Silas Abernathy Character Portrait: Kyle Spencer Character Portrait: Pell Laveau Character Portrait: Hale Bjarki
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With a face scrunched up like the wrinkled body of a Shar-Pei, Kyle groaned, hand grasping his throbbing shoulder which protested highly against his assault on the door. Which actually wasn't the first time, believe it or not, and it wasn't the first time that someone else was on the other side of the piece of wood either. Gosh, he hated it when it happened, but he never once came up with a way to prevent such. Though in all honesty, slowing down probably would solve the problem and solve it at it's source.

Puling himself to sit up with a grunt, eyebrows creased in minor pain, he looked up at the familiar accessorized skin that fell upon the young man's hand. He starred at it for a second, listening to Hale's curious, or rather assumptive, inquiry of his prior thought provoking session with the plumbs and roses. He let out a sigh but nodded in response, head hung down low as his the nippy hand took hold of the incandescence of Hale's own, quick to absorb what he could before had had to let go.

The light weight blonde hauled himself up with a smooth pull, letting the poor man's hand go before folding both of his under his arms. The grey sweater preserved the heat the best it could, but it was a sweater, not some sort of heater, and with that fact out of the way, it wasn't long before his hands returned to their frosty state. With a hint of a smirk tugging at his lips, Kyle looked down, putting his weight on his slightly elongated leg, his toes grazing the ground with the other.

As much as Kyle liked being complimented on his work, and he really did like it, he appreciated it a lot more than some of the remarks or scowls he gets across the school, but he didn't think it was something that needed to be addressed. Unlike the rest of the students and teachers and witches who could go off and do whatever they want, and he meant anything, Kyle wasn't able to. Yeah, he could go to the store or go to a carnival or whatever the heck the other's did in their free time, but he couldn't do it without feeling like a criminal for being alive. The looks and stares he got and how he merely interacted with others made him feel like he did something wrong... or maybe it made him feel like he wasn't supposed to be alive. Which he really wasn't, technically, but it felt like he stole something he wasn't supposed to, so Kyle couldn't could out, or wouldn't go out, as often as they did. And with nothing to do at the school when classes were out besides chores and being the awkward tour guide, Kyle just did it. Not like he could do anything else.

So he appreciated the compliment, but it wasn't necessary.

He lifted his head to Hale, making brief eye contact when the Methley was mentioned, a low chuckle breaking past his lips. He smiled over his shoulder at the two again, letting his hands fall to his side. It always brought a smile to Kyle's face when people knew plants by name. Especially when it was something more specific than just "the plum tree" or "the rose bush". But Silas? He didn't recognize that plant. And he knew a lot of plants.

"...room 2D."

Oh! That wasn't a plant at all. It was the new student. If Kyle had blood that could reach his face, his cheeks would have lightened to a light pink. But thankfully it was all in his legs. Kyle merely smiled again, giving Hale a final, stern nod before the man walked past him to leave. About to step through the door to go find this Silas person, Kyle turned around as Hale did. Forgetting was a common occurrence, he knew that, and he didn't have the best memory in the world prior to his death anyway, but with his brain forgetting to string proper sentences together and not being able to remember or comprehend things as he probably should, forgetting dates and people were an annoyance that Kyle took seriously. Especially when it was a new person. New people meant new opportunities and new people deserved to have a guide. And that was his job. Well, part of it.

"Thanks." Kyle replied simply before disappearing into the house. His pace was just as rapid as before he had hit the door and he zoomed down the halls with loud thumps. He knew exactly where 2D was, and her knew Pell. Why wouldn't he know Pell? No one could get past meeting Kyle if their life depended on it, and this Silas guy wasn't going to get away with it either. Kyle wouldn't allow it.

Running around like the maniac he thought he was, Kyle eventually met the hall that turned into Pell's room. He came to a slow stop, and he blinked at the others in the hall.

Man, was the entire school here to see this guy? There were already two people with the guy, and to Kyle who was overly determined to show him around, that might as well be the entire school. Kyle quieted his steps as he limped slightly his way through the hall. He smiled briefly as he passed Jacqueline but didn't stop to even say hi. He moved himself until he made it to the frame of the door, and once he had reached that, Kyle poked his unruly head into the room, leaving his body out of it in case Pell didn't want him there. Not that she probably had any reason not want him there.

He hoped.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Jacqueline Emilie-Marie Lavaeu Character Portrait: Hale Bjarki Character Portrait: Rowe McDermott
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Rowe had zoned out at some point, staring at the same page in his book for several minutes now. He kept trying to reread the same paragraph, but his brain refused to process the words. Frustrated, he shoved the book back in his bag and ran a hand over his eyes. He was tired, he realized. And suddenly he couldn't remember the last time he slept. Which was never a good sign.

"I do hope you can fix your cell phone!" a chipper voice was suddenly saying, causing Rowe to literally jump and jerk his head up to see the owner of the voice. It was just Hale though, who had already moved on and was walking merrily away. Okay, so it wasn't really merrily, but with the energy Hale had you could be fooled that the guy was just buzzing with happy energy. But it usually was just energy, no "happy" in front.

He does know there is no conceivable way to fix my phone, right? Rowe thought bitterly, glancing at the pieces Hale managed to step on and the direction Hale had disappeared to. Shaking his head, Rowe stood up and stretched a bit, having sat unmoving for a bit too long. A sudden growl from his stomach reminded him that eating was kind of necessary, and that his stash of candy would not be enough to sustain him.

"Great," he muttered and yawned, heading back inside to the kitchen.

Jacqueline was inside in the commons, just hanging out apparently. She seemed to be waiting for something, or someone, actually. Newbies? he wondered, nodding a bit at her in passing and continuing his journey for food. He didn't know too much about Jacqueline, but he knew she was a dreamwalker. He personally couldn't recall her ever popping into his dreams, which he was actually kind of grateful for. He wasn't sure how the dream walker thing worked, but he didn't want anyone in his head. Sleeping was bad enough for him, he didn't need to add more to make in unpleasant.

As he dug through the cupboards he found, despite the fact he was obviously hungry, he had no appetite for anything. Everything either looked dry or old, though he vaguely acknowledged that it was just in his head. The kitchen was usually kept stocked with fresh food. Really, if his stomach wasn't starting to ache from the lack of food in it, he'd just walk away because nothing in the kitchen looked edible to him. Sighing, he settled for just grabbing a slice of bread. If it all looked bad, why waste his time trying to make a "good" meal?

He took a bite while glancing around the kitchen, resisting the urge to yawn again. He was starting to get sleepy, but no way in hell he'd sleep yet. He had a good amount of time before he was anywhere near needing to pass out, and he intended to wait to the very last minute. The nightmares weren't so bad really, they certainly didn't make him want to sleep but if they were it he'd be fine. It was just the fact that no matter how tired he felt he couldn't actually sleep until he was collapsing from exhaustion. He could feel like he hadn't slept for days and would lay down, but then would just lay there awake. It was frustrating really, and he'd come to resent the process of going to sleep at all. Now, he just waited till the exhaustion was kicking in and hope he happened to be in his room when he passed out.

He had barely even finished half of his lame slice of bread at this point and found himself walking away from the kitchen, just wandering around. He found himself sitting on a couch not to long after, drumming his fingers on the arm of the couch with one hand as he finished his last bite of bread. It didn't taste like anything, maybe just air, but his stomach felt better so he didn't really care that his food's taste wasn't up to par. Besides, Rowe had a way to fix the bitter taste in his mouth.

Digging through his bag he pulled out a another candy to eat. "Better," he murmured to himself, leaning back and glancing around the room he'd wandered into.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Jacqueline Emilie-Marie Lavaeu Character Portrait: Silas Abernathy Character Portrait: Kyle Spencer Character Portrait: Pell Laveau Character Portrait: Aden Orchau
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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 Character Portrait: Aden Orchau
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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 Character Portrait: Bambi (Jess) Soullet
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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: Silas Abernathy Character Portrait: Kyle Spencer Character Portrait: Pell Laveau Character Portrait: Hale Bjarki Character Portrait: Aden Orchau Character Portrait: Arturo Christobel DeGari
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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.

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 Character Portrait: Aden Orchau Character Portrait: Lazarus Foreza Character Portrait: Arturo DeGari Character Portrait: Bambi (Jess) Soullet
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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 Character Portrait: Arturo Christobel DeGari Character Portrait: Arturo DeGari
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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 Character Portrait: Arturo Christobel DeGari
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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 Character Portrait: Arturo DeGari
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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 Character Portrait: Arturo Christobel DeGari
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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.

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Character Portrait: Jacqueline Emilie-Marie Lavaeu Character Portrait: Violet Khiara
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"If I'm a bad person, you don't like me,"





Violet fluttered through the town with an appearance that reminded people of butterflies or unicorns. Her hair was rainbow streaked and teased by the wind as she hurried through the town. In what might be frowningly described as 'short' shorts and a floaty blouse, she felt quite free and elegant as she made her way through the crowds in town. She didn't know what she was looking for but she was looking for something as her exposed long pale legs guided her through an unfamiliar town. She'd lived there for quite a while but she had only been into the town half a dozen times and the sights and routes still confused her and were sketchy in her memory as she passed down different avenues and streets.

She'd lived in town for maybe seven months now, she couldn't pin point exactly how long she'd been there but she could say she'd taken an instant liking to the place, everything felt so unusual and mysterious which she appreciated and there was also the factor that she hadn't fucked up here. No history, no ties, no reputation- she could just be herself and hopefully, nothing would go wrong this time.

She unconsciously walked past the magnificent Academy on her route to town and though she noticed and spent a long moment giving the architecture an adoring stare, she didn't let it divert her from her mission to get into town and find something worth splashing out on. She was bored as ever so she was desperate to find a way to waste her time or money, or in the best of circumstances- both. She was one of those people who couldn't stand boredom which was maybe why her hair covered the entire light spectrum or why her skin was pierced with metal rings.

She kicked a forgotten, battered and quite clearly lost dog ball from under her feet with a black Chelsea boot and she sighed softly. There wasn't a worse feeling in the world, than boredom because if you're bored you don't even feel anything really, it's just total vacancy and withdrawal and that was her trial of thought as she stumbled and made her way down the littered dark road.Image She kind of danced down the street despite her low mood and frequently had to keep moving her hair from her face to her own complete and utter frustration but despite the impracticality, she loved it. Her hair was her pride and joy, she dyed it with the most expensive dyes so it always looked bright and didn't fade or get screwed over, she used expensive shampoos to hold the colour and she was constantly getting treatments for it. She just completely treasured every last strand of it- in the least vain way possible.

Her hand dived into her back pocket and retrieved a white carton and she flicked it open, removing the toxic poison between two fingers and placing it between her tight pink lips, holding it there with her teeth whilst she swapped the carton for a lighter and flicked releasing a lashing flame. She lit the cigarette quickly and without problem before taking it back between the tips of two pale fingers and raised it up to her mouth again to take a long, slow drag of the smoke. Image As she continued walking she eyed a cafe, it seemed nice enough and they had outdoor seating which is what sold the idea of stopping for a coffee to her. She waited outside for five or so minutes to cherish her cigarette and then once the best of it was smoked and in internally damaging her, she took a few steps into the cafe and made her way to the till making an order for a large double-shot coffee and helping herself to an unholy amount of sugar from the side to add to it. She drank the coffee scolding hot and it didn't bother her much, it probably ought to but the temporary sting that was soon replaced by the strong angry taste of strong coffee made the slight burn more than worth while.

She sat down in a metal chair which had a vine-like design crafted into it and she rested her legs on the table before her as she relaxed, sipping from her cup like she didn't have a care in the world but her expression was ridiculously thoughtful all the same as she pondered over how to slay the endless, infinite sense of boredom assaulting her. She had one idea.

One, terrible, terrible idea.

Phasing?

She sussed she could get away with a small amount, so setting her cup down on the table, she rest her palm against the top and stared at it intently as she tried to make an educated guess on how likely she was to get caught if she did but before she'd given it a second thought, she allowed her hand to disappear and sink through the table as easily as air. She smiled at the sight and performed the same action in reverse this time giggling softly at herself like it was a brilliant joke but when she turned her sharp and alert gaze upwards, she noticed a group of teenagers approaching the coffee store and quickly stopped. Returning her hand to her coffee cup like she was as normal as anyone else there.

Sorry! I think I accidentally tagged someone in this!

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Character Portrait: Jacqueline Emilie-Marie Lavaeu Character Portrait: Lazarus Foreza
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"I am Jacqueline by dz'e way. Jacqueline Lavaeu-Ayers. My friends call me, Jacq The girl said holding out her hand. She was definitely friendly. The only one that actually greeted him. The others seemed more inclined to just walk away with their nose stuck up in the air. He wondered if they were either stuck up snobs or just shy. The latter seemed doubtful.

"Lazarus. Lazarus De Foreza. Just call me Laz." He told her, accepting her handshake. Something finally ticked on why she sounded a bit familiar. The name Lavaeu. That name may have been common on hundred and eighty years ago, but now there was only one woman who used it. The Voodoo Queen of New Orleans, Marie Lavaeu. Besides the coven they were at, Lavaeu controlled half of New Orleans territory, since the war that is.

"By Lavaeu, you don't have any relation to Marie by chance?" He asked her. He doubted that the infamous Fiona Good would allow a relative of her sworn enemy to stay in her coven.

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Character Portrait: Jacqueline Emilie-Marie Lavaeu Character Portrait: Kyle Spencer Character Portrait: Lazarus Foreza
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"Lazarus. Lazarus De Foreza. Just call me Laz." The boy said and Jacqueline smiled with a nod as he took her hand. However at that moment, her gaze drifted ever so slightly to the patchwork blonde boy that graced her with a soft smile as he exited Pell's room with the other new comers. There was something oddly attractive about the lad. Not sexual, but..intriguing, the bookworm in her wanted to know more.
"By Lavaeu, you don't have any relation to Marie by chance?" Laz said, calling her attention back to him.
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Jacqueline gave a slight chuckle and before she smiled, nodding. "Yes." She said, "I am one of dz'e great granddaughters of dz'e first Marie Lavaeu," She said and looked at him. "And dz'e great niece of dz'e current Voodoo Queen." She told him, seeing the skepticism in his eyes. "She and I are on interesting terms as of late. Which is why Fiona Good, 'as allowed me to attend 'er school." She said, it was a lie, but laced with the truth, Marie told her to say those very things, Jacqueline was a good little actress, she could convince a vegan to buy a steak. She was able to convince Fiona that she and Marie were not on good terms due to Pell, which was partly true, Pell rejected Marie, when Jacqueline hadn't. Jacqueline was heartbroken when her best friend had left and wanted to go with her, Marie told her to go, tell Fiona those things and Fiona jumped at the chance. Why Marie actually wanted her her, not even Jacqueline knew, Marie always had some sort of scheme up her sleeve, Jacqueline was just waiting for the other shoe to drop. She guessed Fiona had one too, the woman wasn't stupid. Jacqueline felt the two of them would be fighting soon enough, and she'd be smack in the middle of it. "What brings you 'ere?" She asked smoothly changing the subject.

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