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Kyle Spencer

"The dead speak just as loud as words. "

0 · 1,337 views · located in New Orleans, Louisiana

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


Kyle Spencer

[Voice. ] Evan Peters
[Theme Song. ] Forward Motion ~ Relient K

▌▌ █ █ █ THE BASICSImage
"The dead speak just as
loud as words."

Image [Name. ] Kyle Spencer

[Gender. ] Male.

[Nickname. ] Zombie Boy

[Age. ] 21

[Schedule. ]

8:00 AM: Adjustment 101
2:00 PM: History
7:00 PM: House Clean up
9:00 PM: Greenhouse Upkeep

7:00 AM: Kinesis Study
11:00 AM: Botany
7:00 PM: House Clean up
9:00 PM: Greenhouse Upkeep

11:00 AM: House Clean up
1:00 PM: Greenhouse Upkeep
6:00 PM: Ceremony Prep
7:00 PM: Ceremony

7:00 AM: Kinesis Study
1:00 PM: Adjustment 101
7:00 PM: House Clean up
9:00 PM: Greenhouse Upkeep

Friday- Sunday:
7:00 PM: House Clean up
9:00 PM: Greenhouse Upkeep

ImageAPPEARANCE █ █ █ ▌▌
"Through sickness and
in health. And death."


[Face Claim. ] Evan Peters

[Height. ] 5'7

[Weight/Build. ] Kyle appears to be an average guy with an average build and weight, setting aside some of his different pigments and eye colours, but actually, Kyle's weight various much more than a normal persons. Kyle has no pulse, and thus, blood doesn't flow through his body evenly (or at all), and thus, he usually is bottom heavy. Walking, sitting, standing, etc makes what little blood he has pool in his legs and feet. If he hands upside down, or lays down, it pools into his head or his side. His blood runs freely with gravity, and thus, different parts of him may be heavier or lighter than they should. However, Kyle is actually lighter than a normal person in general because of the loss of blood form his accident which was never replaced due to the lack of need.

[Hair. ] Kyle's hair is practically one of the only normal things about him. is dirty blonde hair grows, reacts, and remains constant much like his life before death. However, it's usually an unruly lock, seeing as it curls and frays and he doesn't take much time to make it look nice. Messy, but normal.

[Eye Colour. ] Kyle has two different eye colours, but it isn't a huge difference, hue wise. His left eye is actually his own eye, which is Hazel, however, due to death and the potassium release in the eyes, his eye is rather foggy and looks much lighter. His right eye is actually a replacement, and it's a shade of brown, and since it never had the potassium released to it, it isn't foggy unlike his other eye.

[Scars/Piercings/Tattoos. ] Kyle is notorious for his Frankinsteinian appearance. Because of his dismemberment during his accident, Kyle is made up of numerous other parts. And with reattachment of limbs comes scars. His left arm is actually is darker pigment than his normal, fair skin. It's noticeably tanned and although both his arms are the same length, his elbow on his left is actually up "higher" than the other, making his forearm longer than the other and his upper arm shorter. His right arm is actually his own, and although it's far from perfect, having several long scratches and obvious puncture scars in them, he's still glad it was able to survive.At the base of his shoulder on his left arm there is a thick scar, representing when it was replaced and sewn on to the young man.

His fingers on the other hand, weren't so lucky, and as a result, some of his fingers are disproportional to the others. His thumb is abnormally long on his right hand, and so is his pinky, but his pointer is actually shorter than it obviously should be. And at the base of all of his fingers, there is a thin band to show they were sewn on, much like his shoulder.

His legs are probably the most noticeable scar one could see without actually seeing the scar itself. His legs are different lengths entirely, his right leg being several centimeters shorter, giving him a right side limp. If you saw his hip, you would see the wide scar that shows where it was attached. And his feet are different sizes as well, making shoe shopping difficult, but he tries to keep his shoes as wear and tear free as possible, only wearing them when necessary, such as class or ceremony.

But other than his limbs and discoloured skin, Kyle has countless scares all over his torso, shoulders, and any limb he has that was originally his to begin with, including his face. Scratches, holes that had been healed up, you could see each and every one of them clearly and he does not attempt to hide them in every way.

Kyle has no piercings, seeing as he's not a fan of mutilating himself anymore, but Kyle does have tattoos he can't really explain, not remembering when he had got them. One of which is on the back of his neck, resembling a sparrow bird. In this case, he actually doesn't know it's there because Kyle isn't a fan of looking in the mirror. Or trying to look at the back of his neck. The other tattoo is a small sharock on his right ankle.

[Notable Features. ] Besides the obvious, Kyle has a few features an observant eye could notice. Kyle, although alive in every way besides having a beating heart, has a lot of discolourization. Not just from different skin tones from different arms and legs, but also because Kyle typically is pale in the face yet coloured with a purplish tint in his feet and legs, and occasionally his hands. This is because of his blood pooling in those particular areas and giving them colour. His face looks very hallow because of this, and the process of Livor Mortis is what causes his hands and feet to have their purple tint.

[Preferred Clothing. ] Kyle likes various clothes, but warmer apparel is usually his favourite. He loves sweaters, jackets, scarves, gloves, ect, anything that is warm he'll love. He finds himself often times cold and thus, prefers warmer clothing.

Image▌▌ █ █ █ PERSONALITYImage
"Zombies aren't slow.
They're contemplative."

[Sexuality. ] Kyle considers himself Bisexual, despite the fact that he was Heterosexual prior to his death.

[Oddities. ] Despite being dead, Kyle is fairly knowledgeable, but in very limited subjects, and when he becomes confused, he is easily frustrated and very temperamental. He's very prone to fits of rage and wrath and isn't below outwardly expressing this when he does become frustrated. But when he understands the situation and doesn't feel out of place, Kyle is generally a very kind person. He tries to fit in, but his "dumbness" gets in the way, and he has a hard time communicating, both verbally and grammatically with others.

[Habits. ] Kyle tends to talk to himself a lot, especially when trying to figure something out. Most of what he says, however, is mostly incoherent gibberish that he believes is actual words at the time. But he also talks to plants and inanimate objects as well, and generally anything else that will listen to him. Though he has a habit of leaving his shoes in random places, usually taking them off at random points in the day when he deems them unnecessary in order to conserve them so he didn't have to go shoe shopping as often.

[Likes. ] Kyle enjoys any sort of company he gets. This includes, people, toys, plants, bugs, animal, basically anything he believes would listen to his sometimes incoherent blabber. He also loves fresh air and the feeling of grass between his toes. One of his favourite things though, which he does often when he tries to think, is hang upside down, feeling the blood rush to his head. He feels it's a sort of therapy and helps him become smarter.

[Dislikes. ] Kyle hates confusion and gets extremely frustrated when he gets confused, whether it's with himself and his feelings, or whether it's a simple order or question he doesn't understand. He also hates stretching because he's not very flexible due to Rigor Mortis.

[Fears. ] Kyle constantly fears that he won't understand things he'll need to, and he's deathly terrified of having to experience death again, seeing as he doesn't want to go through it all again.

[Hobbies. ] Kyle likes climbing trees and hanging upside down from them. He's not eh best climber, and often times hurts himself more than anything, but he liked hanging upside. But he loves Botany and will often times, if hes not in a tree himself, will work in the green house or be reading a book on plants. Or be reading a book on plants upside down in the green house. It happens.

ImageImageABILITIES █ █ █ ▌▌
"Life in death means
no pulse."

Kyle, unlike most of the residents and witches, doesn't actually have a special ability. The only things that's considered an ability or strange is that he has no pulse and typically shows an increased amount of strength, but not enough to be supernatural by any means. No one knows exactly why this is or why Kyle shows minor bursts of strength, but it's generally accepted that it's because of the bad witch work performed on him, and it is his resurrection and what comes along with it that is about the only supernatural thing about him. The only reason why Kyle is actually able to live here is because he works in the green house and is is generally the butler of the academy (cleaning things, serving food, and showing new comers around) during most of his free time as a payment for living there.

Image▌ ▌ █ █ █ HISTORY Image
"I get sick of stories
but not the truth."

[ History. ]

Kyle has a gruesome history that he hardly wishes to talk about yet has a hard time not thinking about. It's the reason he is here and it's the reason he's as odd as he is. Up until he was 19, Kyle was a normal boy who didn't grow up with any abilities or powers of any kinda. He went to school, got good grades, and hung out with friends, just as any typical young boy who loved life and everything it threw at him would.

However, Kyle, as a young 19 year old, got in a horrible accident which had left him in nothing but pieces. Kyle doesn't actually remember his accident at all, and he doesn't remember what happened before it either except very brief glimpses which usually angers him. He frequently has nightmares about the incident, however, and usually the scenario is different every time but just as terrifying. But the reason he isn't dead still is because he more or less was gathered up and spliced back together into something that resembles a human and resurrected from the dead. Kyle doesn't know the story of his resurrection either, and he doesn't know who had done it to any extent. But he is more or less looking for clues, no matter how cautious he is, slowly trying to piece the puzzle together.

Kyle is far from perfect and is hardly anything but a shadow of his former self, but still strives to be the best he can be, struggling all along the way.

So begins...

Kyle Spencer's Story

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Silas Abernathy Character Portrait: Kyle Spencer Character Portrait: Hale Bjarki Character Portrait: Character Portrait: Character Portrait:
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With the rays of the sun irritating the fibers of the grey fabric one could call a sweater, a young man smiled underneath it, rubbing the warmth into his pale, scarred skin. It seeped into his being in a sponge like fashion, but it lifted away back into the air just as easily. So he liked the sun, or rather, he liked being in the sun. The heat filling his pores was brilliantly magnificent to him, and thus, he had almost entirely spent his day outside or in the green house. Not that he didn't normally do that, but today was special. He couldn't quite put his finger as to why, but he knew it was. There was ceremony today, but there was something different, but not too different about it today.

What was it...

ImageKyle walked along sluggishly, one of his emaciated fingers tapping his chin as his eyes starred at the clear blue sky. His bare feet dragged purposefully along the ground through grass and dirt, making his way around the school in contemplation and thought. But he supposed if he couldn't remember it then it wasn't all too important. Because he'd remember if it was. So with a shrug of his shoulders and a swing with his arms he took in a deep breath and walked on to the front of his home.

There was a particular tree that he had always liked out in the front. It was smaller than some of the heftier spruce or oak trees, so he couldn't climb anything by the lowest branch, which hardly would support him anyway, but a small rose bush grew under it on one side and some of the branches of the bush went up into the leaves and twigs of the tree. It was an interesting combination of dark purple fruit and pink flower pedals. And the plumbs were always delicious, and especially the plumbs protected by the brambly thorns of the roses. Nothing hardly ever got to those ones except the occasional caterpillar, so usually they were the best and the most unscathed.

Kyle walked over to the harmonious couple and smiled, leaning on the dark, crisp bark of the tree that was free from bramble. His eyes drifted up through the branches, skimming for any dying branches he could trim off. It would be a shame for these two to waste their energy on such crippled twigs. But Kyle happened to do the same thing a few days ago and nothing seemed too out of place today, so it looked like his work was still done.

Sliding down the thin trunk to sit in the small amount of shade that the Methley Plum gave him, his attention and gaze turned to the main entrance gate. People came in and out of the gate all the time, so Kyle wasn't surprised, but the accompaniment of Ms. Snow and the optimistic Hale kept his duel coloured eyes locked onto them with only minor interest. A new student was supposed to come today and Kyle was actually surprised that he wasn't here yet. Well, maybe surprised wasn't the right word. Disappointed more like. He really enjoyed showing new students around, and since he didn't really have anything better to do than to micro manage the green house, it would be the high light of his day until Ceremony came around.

Oh! That's right, Ceremony was special today because a new student was coming! That's what he was trying to remember.

Lost in thought and his own soft smiles, Kyle's eye drifted along the path as the dressed figure moved on into the house and through the unknown threshold. Kyle knew better than anyone what it was like to walk into an unknown and strange place. Terrified for your undead life, unable to comprehend how you were alive after being torn to shreds as you were brought to an unnatural culture you've never seen before.

Okay, well, maybe they didn't know what that's like, and maybe he didn't know what it was like to come to the school as a relatively normal, unscarred person, but still. Being new sucked eggs. And believe him, sucking eggs wasn't fun at all.

The door was closed when Kyle brought himself out of his memories, and the stranger was long gone from sight, but Kyle didn't mind. He was waiting for the new guy.


"Oh shit!" Kyle exclaimed, bursting up from his seat by the tree and sprinted in his own hobbled way to the main entrance of the school. He skipped three steps in the staircase leading to it, and his disproportional hand lunged for the knob, his shoulder slamming into the wood to swing it open. But he missed the door knob entirely and with a loud thud, he crashed into the sturdy wood and collapsed onto the deck.

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 Character Portrait:
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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.

" 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: Silas Abernathy Character Portrait: Kyle Spencer Character Portrait: Pell Laveau Character Portrait: Character Portrait: Character Portrait:
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This, Silas thought, frozen just outside of the very door he'd thought his safe-haven, would be where he died. Well, hopefully not died, per say. Maybe just where his dreams of a fun, magical adventure died. The amount of teeth exposed by his wide, welcoming grin had slowly melted until there was nothing but a polite, strained sort of smile left in its place. It wasn't that he'd never been yelled at before- Auntie Lavinia said raised voices meant that the speaker was either slightly hearing impaired or they really thought that you should hear what they had to say- but he'd certainly never been yelled at so creatively. Swears were entangled with blistering commentary, doused with a hearty splash of self-righteous fury for good measure. It was like she'd memorized and rehearsed the entire biting monologue until she'd perfected it, made complete by precise hand gestures and eyes narrowed into slits.

Maybe he was being hazed, he supposed as he absent-mindedly fidgeted with the collar of his white button-up shirt. It was cooler in here, but getting cursed at (not literally, thankfully) for an extended period of time did nothing for his internal body temperature. Yes, this seemed like that hazing thing he'd heard about- subject the new kid to torment as a form of welcome. He'd tried to escape within the first minute of his private lecture by the very pretty but very mean-spirited young lady ("The prettier they are, the more they have to hide, Silas") with a rapid back-step and a quick, stilted apology. That plan had been effectively shot down with a snarled "I'm not done with you!" that, really, had left him no choice but to stay and politely wait until she finished.

He probably would have stayed there until she'd run out of steam (or until he had to go to the restroom, whichever came first) until he felt a presence at his side, the same lavender-haired girl with the cryptic greeting he'd barely had a chance to glance at when he'd first entered the house. He inched over at her silent prompting, curious but still half listening to the umpteenth use of "moron" by his malicious monologuer. What followed next was the cattiest exchange he'd ever witnessed (remarkable given the fact that the majority of his social circle included old women who no longer gave a darn and who reveled in the sport of tearing society to pieces) complete with props. It was like something out of a movie, honestly, and that very fact made it all the more intriguing that it was occurring in real life.

The girl, now identified as Madison, was left in a momentary, blissful silence, so Silas really had no issues following after his rescuer, shined black shoes making a sharp "tap, tap, tap" sound on the wooden floors. She didn't seem particularly interested in him, which was fine because he'd just received a bit more attention than he could handle, but did ask him a few basic questions.

His name was Silas Abernathy, he had said, any cool introductions he'd mentally conceived having flown the metaphorical coop in the aftermath of the prior onslaught. Yes, he was very excited to be here. Okay, maybe that wasn't exactly true or true at all, but one did have to try to be optimistic about these things. And, after rifling through his shoulder bag stuffed with books, a brand new cellphone, and a still perfectly-folded maroon tie for the small folder of information Ms. Snow had so kindly given him, his room number was 2D.

She'd led him into a room with two twin beds, one already decorated and the other plain, hospital corners and all. Seeing the fairy-like girl make her way over to the clearly in-use bed, he made his own way over to the plain one, sliding his shoulder bag onto the floor and placing his suitcase neatly and squarely onto the bed.

"Oh, please don't feel the need to apologize," Silas replied with a timid smile, almost afraid that his enthusiasm apparently sent girls around his own age into rages. "She was... ah... interesting. Well, and rude. Oh, but, she was very creative. Well, until she couldn't find any synonyms for moron..." he trailed off, flashing her another painfully awkward smile.

When she asked if he had any questions, he could only shrug lightly. He had plenty of questions- millions upon millions upon millions of them, but he didn't even know where to begin, so for now he'd suffer his own ignorance. Maybe he'd pick some tidbits of information up on his own? He adjusted his suitcase slightly, making sure that it was perfectly square on the bed, before sitting down beside it to face his apparent roommate.

It didn't bother him that he was sharing with a girl, not really. After a lifetime of living with no one but his Auntie Lavinia it felt almost comfortingly familiar, even if Auntie Lavinia hadn't looked anything like the newly introduced Pell for a few decades now. What did surprise him was how defensive she became, talking about cousins and voodoo and prejudice that sailed right over his head. It was all gobbledygook to him as was painfully apparent from the bemused smile plastered on his face. It was only after she'd finished that he noticed her hand was still extended. Her bare hand.

"Oh! Oh, right, sorry, one moment-" Silas was a flurry of motion, diving towards the shoulder bag next to the bed. He dug through it with the same desperation as a starving man searching for food, books unpacked and tossed haphazardly onto the bed, tie tumbling out with a miniature avalanche of loose papers. All the while he continued to talk, short "I'm sorry"s intermingled with "Really, it will just be a moment"s with a few "I know they're in here..."s just to mix things up a bit. Finally he pulled out the sought after object with a beaming grin- a pair of soft, brown gloves, well-made, expertly stitched, and looking distinctly like he'd stolen them from Mr. Darcy.

"I'm afraid this seems terribly rude," He continued on, sliding them onto his hands. "But really, I mean, it's very polite if you think about it. I mean..." he paused before taking her pale hand in both of his, shaking it firmly (although, from the looks of him, one half expected him to kiss it instead). "I have some issues. With contact, that is. Not germophobia. I'm sure you're very clean. It's more like a, er... Precaution for your sake. And my sake. Anyways, it's delightful to meet you and I hope we can get along." That last smile was a hopeful one.

And then, quite suddenly, there was a face in the doorway, peering in. There was probably a body attached to said face, but that was all Silas could see for the moment, and what a face it was. It was probably once a rather handsome face by societal standards, but now it was... off. Not ugly, but off. A plethora of scars decorated it, crisscrossed and dispersed around the entire surface area. There were too many to really explain and the sight was shocking to say the least, even before he noticed the mismatched eyes. However, as soon as the surprise had appeared, it was gone. He, Silas reasoned, while odd looking by Silas' standards (which really was saying something), must be a normal thing here at the Academy, just like voodoo, magical rivalries, and harassing new kids. One cannot, as Auntie Lavinia had frequently said, expect the whole world to be just like your private sphere, so you must adapt. That and "Don't stare at people, Silas. It's rude". Besides, the newcomer hadn't opened up with a tirade, so he was already infinitely more pleasant than about half the people Silas had met today.

"Oh! Hello there," He said with a crooked smile and a wave, more like a quick flutter of his hand. His eyes darted to Pell before going back to the boy in the doorway. He was at a temporary loss of words before adding a polite, "May I help you?" Which was ridiculous- Silas couldn't help himself let alone anyone else.

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

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

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

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

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

Dressed like he owned a fucking museum or something though.

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

Characters Present

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yeah, Pell, or just laziness.

Characters Present

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Characters Present

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Characters Present

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

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

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

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

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

Characters Present

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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: Kyle Spencer Character Portrait: Lazarus Foreza Character Portrait: Character Portrait: Character Portrait:
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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.

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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Character Portrait: Kyle Spencer Character Portrait: Pell Laveau Character Portrait: Violet Khiara Character Portrait: Character Portrait: Character Portrait:
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Pell Laveau

What was it about the snags in her mentality that left her on either end of a bipolar spectrum at any given moment? Pell peered into the sky with mild disinterest. The height of her cheeks glowed under Louisiana sunlight, warm April days making every moment feel like a summery inferno. Her stride along paved walkways was melodic, a sort of slowed cat walk. It was elegant, even dangerously sexy, as she once heard a man say to her mother. Pulling her lavender hair into her hands, taking its length into the air and letting it fall all around her face and shoulders, Pell sighed.

She made no friends. She didn’t want friends. Jacqueline was all she really needed and… Well there was Kyle, he kept Pell level and even a little more gentle and kind. ‘Course Hale wasn’t such a bad addition to the pathetic and miniature social circle, either. But Pell found it increasingly difficult to stand people let alone listen to them talk. It was getting to a dangerous, volatile point. She felt herself slipping up almost twice a day with these unsettling and morbid urges. Wanting to light someone on fire or bleed them out a little so that she could experiment in the likes of voodoo. The terrifying urges often left her lastingly guarded with a shield charm, so that anyone in the school with half a brain couldn’t peer into hers. If they did, they might find something worth going to Council about, something worth losing sleep over. Self control was on its deathbed. Pell fought like hell but there was wickedness at play. Who was she becoming? Better yet, what?

A cigarette was held between her teeth when she rounded the first corner onto Applegate street, just by the pinnacle cafe in town. String lights dangled between buildings, the aroma of home made goods in the air as she passed beneath them and took a slow drag from the smoke. The upper atmosphere stretched its blue away, orange haze annexing the white natural light that was alive only just a few minutes ago. It gave a tangerine-colored radiance to the dynamic center village. Pell pulled the grocery list from her pocket, scanning it and figuring it was best to conquer that first, since the signs of daylight were fading and she couldn’t be late to Ceremony. With a flick of her digits, the cigarette was discarded and her silhouette disappeared into a butcher’s shop.

The index of stores and delis she had to visit simply to appease the demands of academy staff and the supreme was kind of mind-blowing. Generally Kyle would hobble into the stores and do all the dirty work, but Pell knew he felt similar to Frankenstein when seen in public. Which is why she didn’t mind handling the majority of the ‘outing chores’. However, once she reemerged from the last destination, plastic bags weighing into the skin of her wrist and leaving aches in her muscles, she thought of how she really could have used his help. He loved tours, loved the sense of purpose it gave him, and there was promise of new hope and talent, even friendship with fresh faces. She couldn’t blame him for wanting to show someone around rather than go out in public and be an errand boy. It was difficult to stop off and grab a last minute outfit for Ceremony, though, being that she had no free hands. Irritably she snagged pieces from the racks, paid and left with a huff on her lips.

Peach colored streaks above were fading into ominous purple by the time Pell was on her way out of the small town, passing the darling coffee shop on the corner again. Pell nearly tripped and dropped all her groceries when she saw a companionless girl with polychromatic hair, her porcelain hand passing through the vineyard design of the table she sat at. Survival instincts kicked in viciously. Pell flailed, and stumbled over her, shielding her in a way, eyes wide as she hoarsely whispered, “Have you never heard of the Hawthornes or Delphi? You could have gotten killed,” Pell’s grayish eyes flitted as she scanned the area, “Someone could be watching. There are people out there, that are waiting for the right opportunity to hunt people who do the shit you just did.”

She took the girl by the wrist, pulling her from the chair with such a spontaneous burst of intuition that it might have singed the girl's skin. Another witch. Just roaming, tempting her fate. “Don’t ask questions, for now.” Pell breathed calmly finally, hauling the stranger back toward the academy with her and not stopping until she reached the gates. What was this? Why was Pell going all Mama Coven all the sudden? Pausing, she pivoted to release the bewildered girl whose hair glowed under the grand lamplight of the academy. “This is a place where we… You know…” She kind of fumbled with words, letting her head fall back as she exhaled deeply, mind rampant with chaos. The bags tugged at her limbs as she struggled to bear their weight. She turned to face the large ivory building, a warning bell sounding from inside. An hour to Ceremony. “Are you hungry, would you want to come in for dinner?” A giant grin nipped at Pell’s lips as she looked over her shoulder at the girl and began walking toward the front door, an invitation that had riddle and enticement written all over it. "You can be who you really are in here, not have to hide it."

Characters Present

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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.