Ninth House | Official RP Thread

Dominic Vaillant

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The curtain covering the sole window was nearly closed, aside from a small gap, where sunlight found its way into the darkness of Dominic’s dorm. The candles by his bedside had long burnt out, leaving him accustomed to the darkness. He squinted, rolling over to pull the covers over his head. A thick book landed on the ground with a loud thud, its bookmark falling out from the middle where he last left off that night. Dominic groaned, breaking the serene silence of the campus.

A day had passed since he arrived at Ninth House. And already, he found himself struggling to get out of bed and attend his first lecture. Unconventional Psychology, how exciting. Another subject he’s had to endure his entire life, and to think a magical academy would be different. He wasn’t about to waste precious time out of his day to fall asleep at a desk, when the comfort of his own bed was right there.

Well, that was an option, if something else hadn’t drawn his attention. In such a grand academy there bound to be hidden secrets and enchanted places not many knew of. Not only was he curious about the selection the library could offer, but also, what could be hiding in those books — what insight he could gain for this new world, tricks to navigate it easier, or even clues to a secret location he could sneak into and explore. As much as he hated to admit it, a place like this held a special charm, bringing out his inner child and the urge to roam around where he isn’t allowed. Things were different now. Unlike then, he now had the freedom.

As he looked around his new room, he paused to take in the small details, from the neatly organized bookshelves lined up on each wall, to the sleek desk and smooth, dark colors adding an air of elegance. For once, he had a place to call his own, a chance to separate himself from the restaints of his grandparents’ old home. He was no longer sleeping in the worn down, creaky bed that belonged to his mother as a child, nor the cracked walls and unstable bookshelves filled only with textbooks. He had a door to his room, and silence when he demanded it, Dominic almost couldn’t believe it was reality. One thing was certain, he could never go back, and he firmly decided with a now-clearer mind.

After an hour or so of laying around in bed, Dominic dragged himself out and got ready for the day. By the time he was finished, his first morning class was nearly over. He arrived to the second one, only a few minutes late, settling in the back of the classroom where nobody could talk to him so early in the morning.

In between breaks, he found himself wandering the halls, getting lost in the sound of quiet footsteps, the carefully carved sculptures and ceilings stretching out above his head. He’d walked around the night before, and he did so now, yet he still felt like he hasn’t even seen half of this building. For a brief moment he regretted getting carried away at something so mindless as a party, especially with more important matters looming ahead, yet he couldn’t deny how much that woman intrigued him. Lenore… He wondered if they’d cross paths again.

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During the bonfire gathering, Dominic found himself walking down the halls to the group dormitories. He figured such a simple event wasn’t worth his time either, instead he was set on a different goal, something he’d been avoiding since he stepped foot in Ninth House — paying the infamous Umbra Coven a visit. If Dante’s words were anything to go by, then he’d have to be extra careful around those men. In such a cryptic academy, they were those who could manipulate shadows at their whim. Much like… A certain someone. And Dominic himself.

Loud chatter echoed out through the halls, breaking him out of his thoughts. He followed the sound until he reached a door, his hand freezing at the handle. It wasn’t fully closed, giving him a glimpse into the inner world of what he assumed was the Umbra Coven. The atmosphere almost resembled a frat house, the mess on the floor and obnoxious conversations making him shudder in disgust. Taking a deep breath, he carefully pushed the door open, using the chaos as an opportunity to sneak past groups of men and blend among the crowd. But he stood out like a sore thumb in his dark attire, formal yet dark, gloomy; nothing like the uniforms. Dominic was well aware, and he kept his head down, hoping to shuffle past in silence until he reached a balcony, a corner, or a door leading elsewhere. Anywhere he could observe from a distance like a visitor at the circus.

Of course, his free entertainment couldn’t even last a moment. Not even seconds passed before a man swung the door open, tossing his shoes aside and immediately addressing the crowd. Dominic flinched, darting his eyes away from him. Though he was just another member, something about his disheveled uniform, his confidence and piercing eyes was intimidating. He could already tell, a man like that was looking for a target, especially freshmen who were already clueless enough.

To his non-existent luck, he called out right to Dominic, bringing everyone’s eyes on him. Their eyes pierced into him like daggers. That man’s laugh made him shiver, partly in disgust and partly in anger from the humiliation. He kept his expression neutral as the distance between them closed, locking his dark eyes on the figure in front. “New? What makes you say that?” he raised a brow lazily, his tone laced with sarcasm.

Something that caught his attention, specifically, was the way his friend attempted to hold him back. Dominic’s heart was already pounding, the tension rising in the air and the room becoming even more suffocating than before. And yet, as he stood face to face with this intimidating figure, Dominic’s lips curved into a small smile. There was something so thrilling about being faced with danger, and pushing himself deeper into it without thinking twice. Dominic chuckled at his question, just the way he carried himself with confidence bordering on arrogance. “And who are you to ask?” he asked bluntly, letting his expression go cold as to not betray his fear.

Two other men surrounded him, following after the tall one like pawns. Pathetic. “Am I being interrogated, now? I apologize, I was looking for the Umbra Coven. I’ve heard it was one of the houses of Wyndham College, quite a prestigious one.” Though he tried to stop it, the corner of his lips curved into a small smirk. “My mistake, I must’ve walked into the middle school by accident”

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@raviola ⋅𖥔⋅ Vinnie ft. Bradmington and Chadmington
@Caticorn ⋅𖥔⋅ Lenore (brief mention)


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Dining hall || with Amani


Arya’s eyebrows rose ever so slightly at Amani’s commentary, her lips quirking into a wry smile as she absorbed the other girl’s words. “Well,” she began, her tone light yet pointed, “some of us prefer to make a statement, even in the most mundane of settings.” She allowed her words to linger in the air for a moment before continuing, her expression composed yet tinged with a hint of defiance. Her gaze drifting to the window where the morning sunlight streamed in, casting a warm glow over the room. "To defy convention in such a subtle yet daring manner, to challenge the status quo and carve out a space for yourself in a world that often demands conformity." She leaned back in her chair, her expression thoughtful as she considered Amani’s words.

Her gaze wandered briefly to the bustling cafeteria around them, the ebb and flow of students moving like a symphony of chaos. “But perhaps,” Arya added with a thoughtful pause, “it’s not about defying convention for the sake of it, but rather embracing the essence of who we are.” She allowed her words to linger in the air for a moment, the weight of their meaning hanging between them like a delicate thread.
“Why conform to the boring ordinary when you can do things your way, even at 7:45 in the morning?" She glanced down at her attire, the crisp lines of the blazer and the sleek silhouette of the leather pants a testament to her penchant for self expression and defying convention.

She couldn’t help but appreciate the subtle compliment Amani offered about her outfit, though she masked her gratitude with a cool demeanor. “Flattery will get you everywhere, Amani,” she remarked with a playful glint in her eyes. “But I suppose it’s nice to know that even the most unconventional choices can still earn a nod of approval from the fashion police.” with a playful smirk playing on her lips, she took a sip of her chai, the warmth of the liquid offering a momentary distraction from Amani’s probing questions. Arya couldn’t help but admire the other girl’s skillful manipulation of words, each sentence crafted with precision to provoke a response.

Arya couldn’t suppress the quirk of her eyebrow at Amani’s cryptic remarks, her lips curving into a faint, sardonic smile. “Ah, Dear Adrian,” she echoed, her tone dry as she emphasized the title with mock reverence. “Such a benevolent overseer,” Arya mused, her voice tinged with a hint of cynicism. “Do you think he fancies himself as the all-seeing eye, watching over us mere mortals like some omnipotent deity?” She shook her head with a wry smile, her eyes gleaming with a fierce intelligence. “Or perhaps he fears us, fears just how high some of us are willing to soar, or what we might uncover if we were to spread our wings and fly too close to the sun.”
With a steely resolve, Arya met Amani’s gaze with a cool confidence, her words laden with hidden meaning. “Perhaps,” she replied enigmatically, her voice carrying the weight of unspoken truths. “We are all Icarus in our own way, destined to fly too close to the sun and face the consequences of our ambition. But,” she added with a subtle emphasis, “it doesn’t have to be a tragedy, unless you’d rather just be a nice little pawn.”

Arya listened to Amani’s words with a raised eyebrow, her expression unreadable as she processed the other girl’s musings. “first impressions are a tiny glimpse into the facade we present to the world, they can be very limited, and pretty deceiving sometimes.” Arya mused, her gaze drifting back to Amani, “The trick, as you say,” Arya replied with a wry smile, “is not to be bound by the limitations of first impressions, but to transcend them entirely.” She took a sip of her chai, which was not any less of a good drink as a caramel latte, but to each their own.

Arya listened intently as Amani spoke, her gaze steady and unwavering as she absorbed the other girl’s words. There was a certain intensity in Amani’s demeanor, a fire burning within her that Arya couldn’t help but admire, even if she didn’t entirely agree with her sentiments.

Arya listened intently as Amani spoke, her gaze steady and unwavering as she absorbed the other girl’s words. There was a certain intensity in Amani’s demeanor, a fire burning within her that Arya couldn’t help but admire, even if she didn’t entirely agree with her sentiments.
“Envy and greed,” Arya repeated thoughtfully. It was an interesting perspective, to say the least, an acknowledgment of the darker impulses that drove people to seek success at any cost. And yet, there was a certain truth to Amani’s words, a raw honesty that resonated with Arya on some level.
There was a certain logic to her assertion that success favored those who were unafraid to seize opportunity when it presented itself. Like Amani, Arya was no stranger to ambition, no stranger to the relentless pursuit of success.

For Arya, success was not merely about seizing opportunities or achieving personal validation—it was about mastery, about pushing the boundaries of her own capabilities to their limits and beyond. She had always prided herself on her independence and her ability to forge her own path, in attempt to be free of the expectations or limitations imposed by others.
“I suppose there’s a certain truth to what you’re saying,” Arya conceded, her tone measured as she chose her words carefully. “Success is indeed a journey of self-discovery and growth, a testament to your ability to overcome obstacles and achieve greatness.” Success, after all, was not for the faint of heart - it required a hunger, a thirst for greatness that burned like a fire within the soul. And though some may view such ambition as selfish or even ruthless, Arya understood the necessity of ambition in the pursuit of one’s dreams.

Arya’s lips quirked into a subtle smirk as Amani joked about her newfound appreciation for birdwatching, a sardonic amusement dancing in her eyes. “Ah, yes, nothing quite like a change of heart to spice things up,” she replied dryly, her tone laced with thinly veiled sarcasm. “Who knew you had a thing for birds?”

As Amani summoned a napkin with a flick of her wrist and wiped away the remnants of her snack, Arya couldn’t help but appreciate the girl’s effortless grace. There was a certain elegance to Amani’s movements, a quiet confidence that spoke volumes without the need for words. Amani’s question about her life prompted Arya to offer a vague yet diplomatic response, her words carefully chosen to reveal little while still maintaining a sense of polite interest. “Exciting things in my life” Arya echoed with a thoughtful hum. “Oh, you know,” she replied vaguely, a diplomatic smile gracing her lips. “Let’s just say I’ve been keeping busy.”

Arya regarded Amani with a cool, composed expression until her next words caught Arya off guard, her eyebrow arching in surprise as Amani handed her a gift from her brother. She accepted it with a nod of thanks, her curiosity piqued by the unexpected surprise from Atticus. Atticus had always been a familiar presence in Arya’s life, she had known him since childhood, their friendship predating even her acquaintance with Amani herself. And despite their shared history, Arya couldn’t help but feel a twinge of surprise at the unexpected gesture. Her birthday was still two months away, and she hadn’t expected any gifts until then. “Atticus,” Arya mused, a ghost of a smile playing at the corners of her lips. “Always full of surprises, that one.” She added, making a mental note to thank him later for whatever it was.

Amani spoke, and Arya couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at the thinly veiled barbs laced within her words. Amani’s sardonic smile and playful demeanor belied a sharp wit and a penchant for manipulation, qualities that Arya had always found both intriguing and frustrating in equal measure.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Arya replied smoothly, her tone carefully neutral as she met Amani’s gaze with an inscrutable expression. “But you’ll forgive me if I prefer to take everything with a grain of salt.” She offered a small smile with a nod of her head, glancing down at the gift before putting it down on the table, yet unopened.

Arya met Amani’s smile with a subtle tilt of her head and a faint quirk of her lips , her expression betraying a hint of amusement at the other girl’s playful jab. Though she maintained her usual composed demeanor, Arya couldn’t help but find Amani’s assessment amusing, if not entirely accurate.
“Noted” Arya replied smoothly, her tone carrying a subtle note of amusement. “But don’t worry, I can handle a little bite now and then.”

“Besides,” she continued, her tone cool and composed, “a little tension adds to the thrill of the game, wouldn’t you agree?” Arya’s gaze met Amani’s with a knowing look, acknowledging the unspoken challenge that lingered between them.
Despite their differences and the occasional barbed exchange, Arya couldn’t deny the undeniable chemistry that existed between them, an appreciation for Amani’s sharp intellect and ability to engage in deep conversation, as well as a shared appreciation for the art of conversation, the thrill of intellectual sparring, a recognition of the shared pursuit of greatness, In Amani, she found a worthy adversary, sort of a kindred spirit with whom she could spar intellectually, exchanging barbs and witticisms with equal measure.


@kristi

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Copy of Black Minimal Motivation Quote LinkedIn Banner (1)

just ignore me over here
Inessa had always been in love with the school. Its architecture never failed to captivate her. While she appreciated the sleek modern aesthetic of her home, there was a certain allure to Wyndham College that she couldn’t resist. From the ominous gates that guarded the grounds to the arch that welcomed visitors upon entry, every detail exuded a sense of history.

The old halls echoed with whispers, filled with statues and paintings that seemed to come to life in the dim light. But it was the gardens that held a special place in her heart. And of course, the library, with its towering shelves and hushed atmosphere.

As Inessa reflected on her affection for the library, she pondered the true source of her attachment. Was it the physical space itself, with its towering shelves and hushed ambiance, that drew her in? Or was it the people she encountered within its walls, each interaction leaving a mark on her memory? Or was her love for the library rooted in something more fundamental: her insatiable thirst for knowledge. The pursuit of learning, the quest for success?

As Inessa entered her third year at Wyndham College. in her time at the school, she had exploreded every nook and cranny of the library, her presence a familiar sight among the towering stacks of books. It hadn’t always been her top choice of places to spend her time; when she first started school, she often found herself on a bench outside of the dorms, surrounded by the quiet beauty of nature.

Though, it wasn’t always quiet. No, not really. It was here, as students entered and left their homes, that they often let their guard down, their conversations veering from academic pursuits to more personal matters. Inessa found herself drawn to these moments of vulnerability, relishing the snippets of conversation that drifted through the air like secrets waiting to be discovered. It was in these exchanges that she found a different kind of knowledge, one that spoke to human nature. Inessa found herself immersed in a world of whispers and revelations, each one offering a glimpse into the lives of those around her.

Before she made a name for herself, of course, As her reputation grew within the school community, she found herself in a position where she no longer needed to rely on subtlety to achieve her goals. With her intelligence, charisma, and natural leadership abilities, she had earned the respect and admiration of her peers, allowing her to navigate the social dynamics of Wyndham College with ease. No longer relegated to the sidelines, Inessa now stood at the forefront of campus life, her presence commanding attention wherever she went.

Hayes’s response caught her off guard. His voice, devoid of emotion, struck her as unusually cold and distant. Was he intentionally being yhis way? Inessa couldn’t think of a reason for his abrupt demeanor, especially in such a casual interaction.

As Hayes echoed her words, His cryptic response only added to her confusion, leaving her to wonder about the meaning behind his words. Was he referring to their shared history, or was there something more beneath the surface? Despite her curiosity, she chose not to press him further, respecting his desire for privacy.

Hayes’s playful response elicited a grin from Inessa, appreciating his attempt to lighten the mood. Despite his initial attitide, she sensed a warmth in his demeanor as he engaged in banter with her. With a chuckle, she played along, enjoying the camaraderie they shared. “Maybe I should start charging for my company if I’m in such high demand,” she said back, matching his light-hearted tone. “And as for the summer, well, let’s just say it was eventful enough to make coming back here seem like a breeze.”

Her curiosity piqued by Hayes’s unexpected presence. Inessa’s mind buzzed with curiosity as she pondered what Hayes had been up to over the summer. Had he embarked on any exciting trips? And who had he spent his time with during the break? The questions swirled in her thoughts, eager for answers as she awaited his response.

Inessa’s fingers tightened around the strap of her bag. “You know you could’ve reached out and told me you were coming back….” voice dripped with a hint of pettiness, her tone laced with a touch of sass. “Or just reach out in general.” She let out a soft sigh, her words tinged with a playful yet pointed reminder of the importance of communication a friendship.

As Inessa thought over Hayes’s lack of communication, a nagging question lingered in her mind: was there a reason he left her without a word? Despite her uncertainty, one thing remained clear to her: their friendship, their closeness, should have meant something.

Inessa pursed her lips in anticipation as she waited for Hayes’s response, her impatience bubbling beneath the surface. “Regardless, I am glad you are here,” she declared, her tone softened by genuine affection. Placing her free hand on his arm, she let her thumb gently rub the worn leather he wore. “I am thankful we have another year together. I feel there’s so much we have yet to do!” Her words carried a sense of optimism and enthusiasm, back to her usual bright exterior.

@astxrism hayyyeesss

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Copy of Copy of Copy of Silas

[𓆩⟡𓆪 𓆩⟡𓆪 𓆩⟡𓆪]

“Thalia, do you have a hangover?”

‘Yes’, Thalia thought, ‘A very bad, and annoying one’ She could have admitted, but instead she had flashed a smile, ignored the pounding beating inside her head, and said, “No?” Thalia had denied, “What makes you think I have one? Do I look that dead?” Thalia questioned as she chuckled, as if she had told a funny joke.

As if her throat didn’t feel like sandpaper, or the dimming light in the halls wasn’t exacerbating her headache. As if she weren’t already weary of conversation, or as if her nose wasn’t still throbbing from last night’s revelry. Having a hangover was never pleasant, but today it seemed to bear down on her with an unusual gravity, weighing upon her shoulders like a lead blanket. . It reminded her of when she was younger, at a party hosted by her sisters when their parents went away, just like the masquarade party- it had been a masked party, she had been wearing a mask because it was a party to celebrate ‘freedom’ as her sisters had said, for juniors and seniors before they entered college and experience the depressive nature of college.

Last chance to be kids, Kaelith had said, taking a bite of a red apple, You will come won’t you? She had asked, as if the event weren’t taking place in the very house Thalia called home.

“I literally live in the house” Thalia had responded, confused.

'You know what I mean," But at that time Thalia did not, because Thalia struggled with understanding her sister or people in general, she had always found herself a little ‘loss’ when it came to people outside viewing them from her camera lenses ,
“Are you going to wear a mask, join in the revelry, or continue being your weird self?” Kaelith had pressed, her words a mix of teasing and exasperation, leaving Thalia to ponder her place amidst the festivities and the world beyond.

Kae’s words weren’t meant to wound; they were the playful banter exchanged between sisters or closest friends, a language Thalia had grown accustomed to. “I’ll continue being my weird self,” Thalia had retorted to Kae’s jest, brushing off the teasing with practiced nonchalance.

Yet, despite her declaration, Thalia found herself donning a mask at the party. She lingered on the outskirts, perched by the poolside, her legs immersed in the cool water, a silent observer of the festivities unfolding around her. She resisted the pull of the crowd, content in her solitude, until curiosity or perhaps a burgeoning sense of adventure propelled her into the fray.

And then the drinks flowed freely, blurring the edges of inhibition until one reckless decision led to another. She found herself entangled with a boy, familiar yet strangely distant behind his own mask. It was a moment spurred on by a game of truth or dare, an impulsive act that spiraled out of control, staining the night with bloody hues.

The aftermath was a haze of confusion and consequences. Police lights pierced the darkness, casting shadows of apprehension over the revelry. Her sisters had quickly cleaned up the house, and Thalia had woke up to a horrible hangover, just like now.

But just like before- Thalia touched her pendant, she would survive it, and nothing would happen, nothing strange like the… like what had truly unfolded then.

"Are you flirting with me? Thalia had teased, knowing it would cause Desdemona’s cheeks to redden. Desdemona had been quick to deny, her voice and gesture very shy. It was all so undeniable cute, and had caused Thalia’s smile to widen.

“Just true, huh?” ” she teased, leaning in slightly, her voice dipped in playful incredulity. “Well then, I can also confess, I’m rather glad to be with you right now,” Although, she had tried to escape a conversation with her a few minutes before.

“Last night was weird,” Thalia admitted, at Mona’s questioning gaze, “Was stuck on an assignment and did not get enough time to sleep,” Thalia lied. For some reason, she just did not want to admit to Desdemona, that she had drank way more than she should have, and now had a terrible headache. She knew Desdemona would not judge her, just be disappointed or feel sorry for her, but that was exactly what Thalia did not want, she had already disappointed herself enough last night.

She had hoped that Desdemona would stop asking questions, would naively accept what Thalia had said, but she did not, instead she had asked more questions, asking if she had flirted with someone and it did not go quite well. Thalia blinked at that, “No-Well, something like that,” It was not technically ‘something like that’ because Thalia had not flirted with the dark haired girl from the party- she thinks, at least from what she remembered, instead she had taken a photo of her, and had completely embarrassed herself in front of her, “There was no flirting though,” Just a very large amount of embarrassing behavior. Wishing to change the subjects, Thalia had immediately brought up breakfast, asking if Desdemona was hungry, to which she had said no, then had quickly rephrased it to say they could grab a snack and go up to her room to meet kiki. “You brought Kiki with you?” Thalia had questioned incredulous.

Kiki was Mona’s pet lizard, a pet that Mona rarely never not spoke about. She was small, green and was liked very much by Atum Thalia’s cat.. Thalia did not remember if they were allowed to bring pets in or not, but "I won’t tell anyone, " Thalia said, shaking her head and chuckling, “Can’t believe you brought him with you though,” Although that was very believable, giving the fact it was Desdemona they were talking about after all. “But yes, you should probably feed him. Let’s go get some snacks for Kiki,”

Thalia and Desdemona made their way to the campus cafeteria, the scent of freshly brewed coffee mingling with the chatter of students as they queued up for their morning pick-me-ups. Reaching the counter, Thalia had found herself ordering a cup of black coffee- always keeps you awake after all! and a plain bagel. She had also picked some blueberries, “Some blueberries for Kiki,” Thalia smiled.


@raviola

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Copy of Copy of Silas (1)

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Amani listened attentively, absorbing each syllable that passed from Ayra’s lips, her hands still on her pen interesting, Amani thought to herself as Ayra continued to talk, *‘quite the interesting viewpoint’*Amani smiled.

“Most succumb, you know,” Amani ventured, her voice a blend of lament and admiration as the pen danced between her fingers. “They relinquish their very souls, bowing to the ceaseless tide of conformity.” The pen ceased its ballet, orienting itself towards Arya like a compass needle finding north. “But not you,” she declared, her gaze fixed, the pen now a directed arrow. “Yours is a perspective most singular.”

The sparkle in Amani’s eyes sharpened, mirroring the edge of her thoughts, yet her smile was restrained, as if smiling wider would be doing too much. “England—this patchwork of contradiction and tradition—how could we ever dream of bland uniformity? And even if it were so, what virtue lies in sameness, in the abandonment of one’s own sartorial script?”

Once, they had been what people would call friends, companions in youths whispering secrets and horsing around, the world in their hands- the way a child would normally think. Arya has always been close to Amani’s siblings after all, they treated her like a sister, welcoming her with open arms, and laughing with her. Amani too had laughed with her and played with her, although at first, Amani did not like Arya- no upon their first meeting, she had been quite ‘indifferent’ to Arya, but that had changed as soon as Arya spoke and Amani knew from that moment that she was bound to befriend Arya.

So then what made them fall out? To say it simple, it was the same thing that made Amani like Arya- her unbridled perspective, her opinions or more so her opinions on a certain person that Amani often found herself at disagreement with.

" Flatter will get you everywhere, Amani,"

“Oh, will it now?” Amani replied, her voice laced with equal parts amusement and challenge. Her pen hovered momentarily, as if punctuating her next thoughts. Amani leaned closer, a small smirk on her face, and her eyes glinting with amusement, “But perhaps I’m not aiming to get everywhere,” She leaned back, bringing the pen close to her lips, the tip grazing her lower lip as Amani traced Arya’s sharp features with her eyes, her eyes going from Arya’s brown eyes down, “Just the right places,” she murmured, her voice low and sultry. “And besides, could I truly call myself the fashion police if I only liked the conventional?” Amani said, matching Arya’s playful smirk, “The unconventional has a certain allure, wouldn’t you say?”

With all that, their conversation had shifted to more ‘philosophical’ ones, one’s that were very cryptic and some would have considered strange. “Both, I think it’s both,” Amani began, “I reckon that he fancies himself a puppeteer, pulling strings from behind the scenes and making us play games that he wants to play,” Amani raised her coffee high in the air as if inspecting, “And his daughter, like many parents like to think, is his biggest and favorite puppet. And he hopes we can all be like her, but that is not quite possible now is it?” Amani mused, dropping the coffee back down. Some of us might be Icaruses, but we others are the very sun itself or more like the very fire itself. We are the thing that burns." Amani chuckled, reaching out for her to drink to take a sip. Dropping it down, she picks at her toast, taking a small bite of it.

With a faint smile, Amani raised her drink in a silent toast, “Should we toast then?” Amani questioned, “To transcending limitations,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper “and embracing the full spectrum of non-conformity.”

To Arya’s agreement with Amani’s perspective of success, Amani had responded playfully, a hint of laughter dancing in her eyes. “There is always a certain truth to what I say,” she remarked, her tone lighthearted yet confident. “I might be b*tchy but every now and then I try not to be a liar,” she teased, “Quite glad we can have a similar ground on success,” She winked.

When Arya had asked about Amani’s life, Amani had brought up birds or more so what a little birdie had told her to which Arya had questioned. “There are a lot of things you don’t know of me Sellenova. These days I think I’m fancying myself a bird woman, favorite might be the crows so far- read a book about them and who knew they were so interesting.” Amani grinned, “You know, if you were a bird, I fancy that you would be a raven, another favorite of mine.” She remarked, a mischievous smile tugging at the corners of her lips. It was a subtle nod to Arya’s sharp wit and mysterious demeanor, traits that seemed to align with the enigmatic nature of the raven.

Shifting the attention from her and her life, Amani had summoned a napkin with a flick of her wrist and then asked about Arya’s life, intrigued to see just what Arya Leina Sellenova was up to. “Keeping busy, hmm?” Amani echoed, her tone light and teasing. “Well, I suppose that’s one way to keep life interesting. Filling it with secrecy. Care to share any hints of what busy means or has a little birdie also told you to keep quiet?” Amani asked raising a brow.

Just as the conversation was easing itself, their game of chess- sorry their conversation tensed and for a second, Amani had allowed it to stay tensed, until she began to laugh out loud, covering her mouth with her hands. Very funny Amani had said, reaching for her bag, and pulling out a gift. A gift from brother Atticus. Amani watched Arya’s reaction to the unexpected gift, allowing a moment of silence to linger between them. Her fingers tapped lightly against the desk, a rhythmic beat echoing the tempo of her thoughts. One, two, * trois*. she counted, sitting up as she began to speak, a sardonic smile playing on her face . As Arya responded smoothly, her tone carefully neutral, Amani couldn’t suppress a smirk. It was amusing to see Arya play along, maintaining her composed demeanor even as she navigated the intricate verbal sparring match they often engaged in.

“It’s easy,” Amani said leaning in, “If you insist on taking everything with a grain of salt, then don’t think of me as ‘everything’. Think of me as Amani-the one you take as your sweet indulgence” She rubbed her fingertips together, “Or simply remember, I’ve never been just anyone to you—just as you’ve never been to me, even now, in our most tensed of moments.” Amani’s gaze shifted towards Arya’s drink, she grabbed it with one hand, bringing it close to her lips but not at a touching length “Mind if I take a drink?” Amani asked, setting the drink back down, “What’s in it? Smells like chai,” she said, leaning back into her chair. Amani already knew what it was, it was easy to guess but she still felt the need to ask.

At Arya’s next words, Amani could not help but to laugh, her smile wide and genuine. “Oh, I have no doubt you can handle more than just a little bite,” she quipped, a playful glint in her gaze. “But how much do you think you can really handle?” She challenged, raising a brow.

She leaned forward slightly, mirroring Arya’s knowing look. “Indeed, tension does add an exhilarating edge to our interactions,” Amani agreed, looking back at her book then at Arya. “It’s like a dance of minds, each step carefully calculated yet filled with spontaneity.”


[[౨ৎ]

@CerealKiller

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enzo|597px;x209px;


The man before him spoke with a calm sarcasm, all too calm considering the way they had approached him. It was interesting, and almost uncharacteristic of him, even though Vincenzo didn’t know him. He didn’t think men who wore loafers to class tended to smirk very often. So what was the purpose of the act? Was that really just his natural way of reacting? Either way, something was off about him, but Vincenzo proceeded, replying to each piece of his dialogue.

“Probably the fact that you still haven’t denied it,” Enzo replied with an ill-intended smile, feigning charm for the sole pleasure of it. “That and just the simple fact that I don’t know you. I try to learn everyone’s names by the end of the first week, usually. Care to introduce yourself?" He asked, allowing him the courtesy of an introduction before they continued.

He let him talk, not really seeming to listen to the man. His name was Dominic, it was his first and final year, he was from some town, the rest didn’t matter. Vincenzo had looked up in another direction when he began to talk, already bored and waiting for him to finish his sentence until Enzo could begin his.

Enzo turned to the rest of the Umbra coven. “You guys remember that. Dominic.” A few faces turned, one or two guys nodded, and then, knowing he had finished some sort of procedure before the other man spoke again, something in Vincenzo’s expression shifted, and malice crackled from his lips into a smile.

Dominic must have had no idea what he had signed up for when he agreed to come to Wyndham. From the mysterious disappearances to the group dynamics, it was a lot to deal with. He almost felt bad for the guy, but at least Umbra was different. Although it didn’t seem like it sometimes, they were there to protect each other, and he truly believed that. Some of them, to Vincenzo, were just loyal dogs at his call, like the men beside him, but the ones that mattered were more brothers to him than any traditional siblings could be. Dominic looked weak, but Vincenzo wanted to give him a chance to prove himself. Under his facade, after an unfair fight, he wanted to see how the man would handle himself.

He scoffed hearing the man’s question. “Who am I to ask?” He paused. “This is the Umbra coven, Dominic. We’re brothers, right?” Enzo gave him a light nudge to the shoulder, using his joke to test how much his body swayed from the light impact. As expected, his shoulders rocked ever so slightly, hm. Clearly he was speaking defensively, but he didn’t seem to know how to tense enough to defend himself. Another weakling, he supposed, but that was fine. They would become stronger here.

The man gave him an attempt at a smirk, and Vincenzo had enough of his nonsense, summoning shadows that enveloped his wrists, and the dark ropes snapped together. It almost looked like Dominic had winced. That made the side of his lip curl.

“Alright.” He paused, “We can be a little immature sometimes, no shame in it. But that’s not what this is about.”

“As you know, we like to do a little bit of magic around here,” he smirked, glancing down at the shadows around Dominic’s wrists. “And usually, I like to start the year off with some blood.” His irises twinkled, baring his teeth clearly now, like a predator. And in that moment, Dominic looked to him like prey, and he knew the feeling. Vincenzo understood perfectly well how it was to be a young and less fortunate boy, but that shame couldn’t hide under fool’s gold, like Dominic was trying to gild his trembling silhouette with cheap pyrite. He needed to be made aware of it.

Vincenzo got closer to Dominic, finally staring at him eye to eye, and there was only a breath between them. “Sorry about those, by the way. I just needed to make sure you weren’t gonna try and be smart.” And his tone sounded reassuring, but it wasn’t, nor was he telling the full truth. He also did it for fun, considering the way he liked hurting people. It was something he learned to see the bright side of.
There was no reason for him to feel empathy, especially not when he could feel superior instead.

After offering him a bit of consolidation, the man stepped back, returning his voice to a volume where people could easily hear. “Every year, we have this sleepover in the main hall, you know that, and since we like to share a very deep friendship here, we all have matching blood vials.” The ritual most likely seemed a bit strange, and perhaps unnecessary, but to Vincenzo, it was about the metaphor behind it… The umbra coven was like his family, so if he did not have their same blood coursing through his veins, then he could wear it on his neck.
“Usually, said blood comes from a few of us cutting our palms open… but you seem like you want to cough it up, the way you’re trying to talk to me.”
The rest of the room went quiet.

He cleared his throat, his voice low.
“Is that what you want?”


@idiot.exe dommyyyyyyy
This was prolly @ss but
It is what it is


3 Likes

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Tae winced as he woke up and was confronted with the consequences of his actions as his body tensed with the first sign of movement. In no way did he regret those actions. Dancing at the ball had been the most fun Tae had had in a long time, so he was okay with having to put up with the pain the morning after. It was a pain that he was no stranger to and so he slowly pulled himself into a sitting position before reaching into his bedside drawer for one of the pre-rolled joints he kept in there. After taking a few hits and letting them take effect, he got himself out of bed and ready for the first day of school.


After classes ended, Tae found himself outside of the Umbra Coven dormitory with a joint, the day having taken its toll on him. He was mentally preparing himself for the sleepover later and while he decided that while he didn’t want to be high, he at least wanted to be in an ignorable amount of pain. He wasn’t alone and at one point, his companion, someone he felt he could at least call a friend, asked him for a light. Tae reached into his pocket, pulling out the lighter that he more or less always had on him. After helping the other man light his cigarette, he took a drag of his own, staring at the sunset as he felt the effects of the marijuana taking over and dulling the soreness in his limbs.

When he felt satisfied, he let his companion know that he was going inside before leaving to get changed out of his smoking clothes. Once changed, he took a moment to reconsider attending the sleepover, knowing that Renlin would definitely be there, but his sister had convinced him that if he didn’t, Renlin would be winning, which was a good enough reason for him. He left his room and went to join the other members of Umbra.

Tae was in no way relaxed as he entered the dimly lit room where the sleepover was taking place. The supposed brotherhood never truly felt like home to him and the one person he was closest to wasn’t there. He subtly winced as he walked past Vinnie initiating a new member into the group, remembering his own initiation. He had planned to just keep to himself for the evening, speaking only when spoken to but that plan went down the drain when he overheard a group of members discussing whether he and Renlin would speak to each other this year. Tae rolled his eyes, not wanting to acknowledge it, but then they brought up his brother. He opened his mouth to correct them that no, his brother hadn’t had the chance to be in Umbra, when Renlin decided to open his mouth.

It was a small comment, one that wouldn’t have bothered anyone else but for Tae, it was the final crack that shattered the thin layer of patience he had for his cousin. It was a simple distinction but also a painful one because no matter how hard he tried to belong, the word ‘half’ hung over him as a permanent marker labelling him an outcast. His feelings took over his judgement and before he could think it through, he felt his fist colliding with Renlin’s face.

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@Madilnel - Renlin

Briefly mentioned:
@Kristi - Amani
@raviola - Vinnie

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Dominic Vaillant

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Dominic glared at the man with an unamused expression, as he proceeded to answer his sarcastic question. He nearly rolled his eyes in judgement, only stopping himself in the middle. Escalating the conflict would end horribly for Dominic and he knew it. He needed to be careful, to analyze the situation before making any haste decisions.

“It’s Nic. That’s all you need to know,” he answered, keeping a calm, neutral tone. If this man was as dangerous as he seemed, then Dominic would need to pay attention to every little move. His tone, his expressions. He’d have to avoid appearing as scared and weak, but at the same time he couldn’t be too confident, otherwise he’d give the impression that he’s looking for a fight. One he could win, at that. “If you haven’t seen me before, it’s because this is, in fact, my first time stepping foot at Wyndham College,” he proceeded to explain.

The man’s next words brought even more attention to Dominic, introducing him to the coven in a tone that could only come off as mocking. He was trying to embarrass him, likely to intimidate him so he knows his place. A few turned their heads, and seeing their eyes on him sent shivers down Dominic’s spine. He hated to admit that it worked, how his hands were shaking in fear, concealed only by the way they were clenched tightly into fists. He found himself unable to look away from the crowd, and he noticed a peculiar detail. How most seemed unbothered despite his thoughts telling him otherwise — as if this was yet another regular occurence at this strange academy. Much like the disappearance announced at the party before. Were they connected?

He felt his chest tighten, slowly trailing his eyes back towards the man. His expression seemed to shift into a smile, and Dominic took a deep breath, bracing himself for what was to come next.

He’d made a mistake challenging his authority, if he even had any. Acting on impulse, a foolish decision as always, and now he had to deal with the consequences. That mocking, yet ever so casual tone that further made Dominic feel inferior. His adrenaline rose higher, his blood began to boil. His hands trembling in fear began to clench in anger, heat rising through his body as he struggled to remain still. The man pretended to joke, Dominic just knew it, disguising his growing imaptience with playful remarks. He gave him a light nudge to the shoulder, and Dominic immediately stiffened in defense. Even something so light managed to make him sway, exposing just how weak he’d gotten over the years.

Dominic grit his teeth behind closed lips, looking directly into the man’s eyes. Approach this carefully, he’d told himself, and yet he found his mind spinning from the rising tension. He could barely string together a thought, much less choose his words. “I’ve heard it’s a brotherhood, yes,” he answered as calmly as he could, sounding more as if he’s repeating the question.

Suddenly, he felt his wrists bound together. His eyes widened briefly, his breath hitching as he began to truly realize the severity of the situation. He’d gotten carried away, far too carried away. He should’ve known from the start that his sarcastic remarks and pathetic attempts at appearing powerful would only turn out for the worst in the end. And now he was faced with the stronger man looming over him with his two minions. He felt powerless, trapped, inferior — and he could do nothing but accept what was happening to him.

Dominic could barely register the other man’s words over the sound of his pounding heartbeat. Something about magic, blood, was it a sacrifice? Of course, what else could he expect from the shadow group of this academy?

He held his breath as the man leaned uncomfortably close to him, looking directly into his cold, piercing eyes. He had the audacity to apologize for tying him up, offering a poor excuse for his actions, as if Dominic was going to fall for his act of sympathy. The way he switched his attitude so casually made Dominic’s stomach churn. If he had any strength in him, he wouldn’t have sat idly and let that bastard speak. But he knew if he threw a kick, it could very well be the last time he walked.

The man stepped away, and Dominic finally exhaled. He watched as he explained the so-called ritual, which sounded more like an unnecessary waste of blood for some mere superstition. Dominic couldn’t help but wonder what the purpose of collecting the blood was. It couldn’t just be some creepy bonding activity, there had to be something deeper to it, something he could likely expect much later.

He suddenly regretted his decision that morning, to stay at this academy regardless of what happens. But in the end, can it get worse than what he’s used to?

His final words made Dominic flinch slightly, his blood going cold at the looming threat. He swallowed back his words, staring at the man as silence lingered in the air.

Dominic’s heart was pounding hard enough to burst at that point, and he didn’t know exactly what he felt. But there was the overwhelming urge to act, as if the walls were closing in on him.

He was tired of feeling inferior, like some puppet or some nobody people could just push around for their entertainment. No matter where he went, it was all the same. People were all the same, and among them there would always be someone trying to control him. How pathetic. Sickening.

He took a deep breath, staring the man directly into his eyes. His lips curved into a smirk again, letting out a dark, low chuckle at his words.

“Did a little sarcasm hurt your fragile ego?” Dominic stepped forward, his legs shaking. “Go on, beat me up. Show to everyone how strong you are against a tied up man,” Dominic’s breath hitched, his words cutting off despite his effort to remain composed. “You’re embarrassing.”

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@raviola ⋅𖥔⋅ Vinnie ft. Bradbury and Chadford

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─── ・ 。゚☆: ✦. .✦ :☆゚. ・ ───

The masquerade ball had been the perfect way for Lenore to start off her final year. She had become acquainted with the mysterious presence that is Nic, someone who she hoped she would get the chance to know more. Through all of the excitement, there was also the looming uncertainty of the fates of the missing students. Nevertheless, when she woke up the next morning, she felt eager to discover what the rest of the year had for her.

The members of Engima Stag were like family to her and with her biological family solely consisting of her and her brother, she cherished that feeling. After they had ended for the day, she returned to her room and retrieved her latest read, putting it in a bag with a few snacks and brewing herself a tea, which she added milk to once it had steeped to perfection. Armed with her bag and beverage, she set out to find a spot where she could enjoy her book while taking in some fresh air and the energy of the start of the school year.

As she wandered the halls in search of the perfect reading spot, she noticed a familiar figure at the end of a hall. Walking closer, she was able to see them more clearly and confirmed that she knew who it was. Jesse Routledge. “Jesse!” She called, quickening her pace to catch up with him. When she had reached his side, she smiled. “I didn’t see you at the dance last night.” She phrased it as a statement but really it was a question, making sure that he was alright and wondering where he had been. Even though it was a masquerade, she would have recognized her friend.

─── ・ 。゚☆: ✦. .✦ :☆゚. ・ ───

@novella - Jesse

Mentioned:
@idiot.exe - Nic

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Renlin
enlin was excited to be back but also missed summer, which had been filled with nothing but good times. He cherished the days spent on the lake, where he could often be found on the water. Unlike previous summers, this time he wasn’t just surrounded by Inessa and their hometown friends. Dante had come to stay with the family.

The summer was full of laughter. He and Dante explored every corner of the lake, discovering hidden coves and secret fishing spots. Renlin enjoyed spending time with Inessa, but having Dante around added a new dynamic to their summer. When Renlin proposed the idea to his parents and explained Dante’s situation, they welcomed him with open arms. Renlin’s parents were always generous and hospitable.

Despite his dad’s sometimes stern demeanor, he was actually quite warm and welcoming when you got to know him. Renlin knew that beneath his father’s tough exterior was a kind and caring man who valued family and tradition above all else. Renlin’s dad had a way of making everyone feel welcome in their home, despite his sometimes stoic demeanor. He had a knack for telling stories that kept everyone entertained, and he was always ready with a joke or a bit of wisdom to share.

Renlin’s mom brought a vibrant energy to their home, much like Inessa. She had a flair for creativity, filling their space with music, art, and laughter.

Renlin couldn’t shake the feeling of emptiness that settled in his chest as he reflected on his family dynamics. Once bustling with extended relatives and lively gatherings, it was now just the four of them.

Those days when their extended family joined them at the lake were bittersweet memories for Renlin. He couldn’t help but feel a pang of longing for those times of togetherness, now tinged with a sense of loss. The laughter and joy seemed distant, like echoes fading into the past, leaving behind an ache for the warmth and camaraderie they once shared.

In his mind he held in a complex mix of emotions regarding his family. While he longed for the warmth and joy they once brought, he couldn’t ignore the underlying tensions and conflicts that had fractured their relationships. It wasn’t just his father and uncle who contributed to the decline; deeper roots traced back to his grandfather. Moreover, Renlin’s own reservations about associating with the other half of the Duman clan at Wyndham.

Renlin rarely went into discussions about family matters, but when it came to Isaac, a pang of hurt stirred within him. They shared a bond like that of a brother, and Renlin cherished their closeness deeply.

His silence regarding his relationship with Tae Seo spoke volumes. Renlin’s thoughts of Tae Seo were a mix of emotions—perhaps a blend of disappointment and resentment. Despite the curiosity of others, Renlin chose to keep his reasons for the rift between them private, allowing speculation to swirl surrounding their estrangement.

The brunettes decision to speak up about Isaac’s family status may have been a rare moment of vulnerability. By addressing this aspect, Renlin subtly acknowledged the complexities and sensitivities surrounding family dynamics within their social circle, shedding light on a topic that had previously remained unspoken. It was a small yet significant gesture that hinted at Renlin’s underlying concern for his friend’s well-being and a desire to set the record straight on a matter close to his heart.

The sudden blow to Renlin’s face caught him off guard, stunning him momentarily as pain shot through his temple. His hand instinctively moved there, feeling the throbbing sensation where the impact landed. Adrenaline surged through him as he tried to process what just happened.

Renlin winced, his mind racing as he replayed the recent events in his head. It wasn’t the first time his words had sparked trouble.

His smile stretched across his face, but it wasn’t one of warmth or friendliness. Instead, it held a hint of mischief and defiance as he locked eyes with his assailant.

Renlin’s fist shot forward with only a slight hesitation, meeting his cousin’s eye with determination as he returned the blow with equal force. As he stood up straight and shook his hand, his own eye starting to swell. Fighting wasn’t his forte; he usually left that to Vinnie, but in this moment, he was ready to engage.

His knuckles throbbed with pain, but he maintained a steele exterior, not wanting to show any weakness. Deep down, he knew this encounter would only add fuel to the already simmering tensions between them. Yet, he couldn’t deny the rush of adrenaline coursing through his veins, reminding him that sometimes, actions speak louder than words.

@Caticorn taeeeeeee
@raviola boyfriend mentioned
@Jass bestie mentioned

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enzo|597px;x209px;


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The man looked up, but then sighed, and stopped. Was he going to roll his eyes? Vincenzo kept a smile on his face, comforted by his frustration. The satisfaction of it cooled his warm blood, soothing it into room temperature, flowing through his blue veins. It was fueling him; the way he was confident he could win this fight, arrogance circulating through him and making him fuller. Without that assurance, he felt lanky, frail, and with it he felt like himself.

The man replied, finally answering his question properly. He decided to open with sarcasm, a mistake easily made by the new students, thinking they could earn respect by playing the role of unbothered. Nonchalant behavior, to him, just seemed like an excuse of living, individuals repressing their own sentience because they fear it. “Nic” seemed like a perfect example, his hands so unstable that they trembled as he failed to intimidate him.

It was ironic. His body language, to a certain extent, was even posed like he was relaxed. He stood with his weight shifted, resting on himself, but even through his dress pants, Vincenzo could assume the weight of his own body was becoming a lot for him to handle.

Luckily for him, he knew to calm his voice. The new intonations he used were much easier on Vincenzo’s ear, listening to him more attentively now, giving him a nod in agreement. Saying it was his first time stepping into the college made him question whether or not he had attended the previous night, though. Had he not seen the speech from headmaster Dear? Did he know Miles North had gone missing? Or had he just worded his statement wrong due to stress.

Vincenzo turned his jaw as he listened, and then tilted his head down once more, assuming he meant the latter. “If it’s your first year here, then the school’s made a hell of an impression, I’m sure.” He laughed slightly, then paused, thinking about how he would phrase his next sentence, attempting to soothe his response as a hint of mercy. “Cases like Miles North’s are the reason we have to stick together.”

To the wrong ears, those words might sound like knives, because he was a stranger, and in proven by his behavior during this interaction, Vincenzo was not someone you should cry to, because he’d tell you to suck it up. But at the same time, although he did not mean those words to the full extent, he felt them resonate in his larynx before releasing the sound. It was true that the umbra men had to trust each other during these times, he just didn’t know if he could keep that promise.

The uncertainty made him nervous, so he overcompensated with a smile. It was ironic how many people shared that strategy; covering their anguish with flaring teeth and supposed happiness, whether they did it politely to conform to societal expectations, or if they did it malignantly like Vincenzo, there was a fury behind their expression that they were inches from facing. The difference was that Vincenzo knew his always came out eventually, and currently, Nic’s weakness was lightly tapping on the glass of that threshold.

Nic’s back hit the wall, and the joining of his wrists caused his back to hunch, trapped by magic. He continued irritating him with more words, switches between tempered threats and sympathy. He looked in a way puzzled, like he was doubting something that had nothing to do with Vincenzo, but more-so the murky ambiance of the room, the halls, the school as a whole. He wondered if Nic thought he might have something to do with it, because he didn’t. He didn’t want to.

It just seemed like it was inevitable for him to succumb to some kind of evil. It wasn’t a relevant feeling, but their situation reminded him of how he couldn’t shake the sensation off of him. It was probably a result of the way he was raised, he couldn’t help but wonder what Nic had been through as well. What brought him here, and what was anchoring him from fighting back? The crowd could see the shadows wrapped around his wrists now, but what were they replacing?

“Did a little sarcasm hurt your fragile ego?”

Vincenzo almost paused, wondering if he had heard the man correctly between his shaky breaths. Although it came through a weak sound, Nic’s retaliation burned on his skin, and he felt like there were red patches growing, itching like he had eaten some poisonous fruit, or triggered a memory.

He thought back to Amani, insulting him last night. His self esteem, although apparently strong, was still bruised from that conversation. There weren’t many people who knew enough about him to hurt him like she did. Nic was begging for Vincenzo to displace his frustration onto him.

“Go on, beat me up. Show to everyone how strong you are against a tied up man,”

His body reacted, looking to the side and away from Nic as he stepped forward. His anger added to the heavy pound of his heart. It was hard to listen to Nic while he kept talking, because Vincenzo kept imagining what his head would look like tossed onto the floor next to him. His mates grew expressions of concern, wondering if they should intervene, or if it would be unwise.

“You’re embarrassing.”

The shadows around Nic’s wrists snapped off, and Vincenzo dodged toward him, pushing him him back to the floor with his hands, and then swung his fist directly at his face, hitting the bridge of his nose. Against his knuckle, the bone of it shifted in place, and he fell further back, not allowed a chance to get back up. If he wasn’t mistaken, it looked like a drop of blood was going to start to fall.

“You’re free now, Nic. Hit me,” He said between heavy breaths, and then threw another punch.


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@idiot.exe dommyyyyyyyy

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image


Dining hall || with Amani


Arya’s gaze remained fixed on Amani as she spoke, her expression one of thoughtful consideration. She listened intently, her mind processing the intricate layers of Amani’s words like a skilled cryptographer deciphering a complex code. There was a complexity that Arya couldn’t help but find fascinating, a certain elegance to Amani’s speech, a poetic cadence that resonated with Arya’s own appreciation for the art of language. With a subtle nod of acknowledgment, Arya let Amani’s words wash over her, silently recognizing the depth of thought behind the seemingly casual conversation.

“Most succumb, that is true,” Arya murmured thoughtfully, her gaze fixed on Amani’s. “But then again, most never dare to swim against the current in the first place, do they? It takes a certain kind of courage to defy the tide of conformity and chart one’s own course.” As Amani’s gaze sharpened, Arya met it head-on, her own eyes alight with a spark of playful challenge. “Definitely,” she replied, her tone laced with a touch of mischief. “Uniformity is but a dull shade in the vibrant tapestry of existence, a stifling cloak that smothers the flames of creativity and stifles the spirit of innovation. Besides, conformity has never been my strong suit, Amani. After all, where’s the fun in being just another face in the crowd?”

Arya couldn’t help but chuckle at Amani’s response, a playful glint dancing in her eyes as she met the other girl’s gaze. With a coy smile, Arya allowed her gaze to linger on Amani’s, her eyes tracing the contours of her features with a calculated intensity. “Just the right places, hm?” she echoed, her voice laced with a playful yet suggestive undertone. “Well, I suppose we’ll just have to see where this road takes us,” she remarked, her tone light and teasing.

Leaning back in her chair, Arya allowed herself a small, knowing smile as she watched Amani’s pen dance across the page, the movement fluid and graceful. There was a certain elegance to the way Amani carried herself, a confidence that Arya couldn’t help but appreciate, even as she found herself the target of Amani’s playful banter. As Amani leaned closer, her words carrying a hint of mischief, Arya felt a subtle thrill run down her spine. There was a magnetic pull to Amani’s presence, a tantalizing allure that Arya couldn’t deny. She met Amani’s gaze with a coy smirk of her own.

“In a world of conformity, the unconventional stands out like a beacon of individuality,” Arya mused, her words tinged with a poetic edge. “And who are we to resist its call?” With a subtle flick of her wrist, Arya gestured towards the eclectic mix of students and faculty bustling around them. “Shall we embrace the unconventional?” she asked, her voice carrying a playful challenge. “Or shall we continue dancing around it like the rest of them, content to merely flirt with the idea?”

Arya listened intently to Amani’s cryptic musings, her sharp mind dissecting each word with a keen sense of curiosity. There was something captivating about the way Amani wove her words together, like threads of a tapestry painting a picture of hidden truths and veiled intentions. She had been one of the rare few who could match Arya’s level of thinking, who could engage her in a real, quality conversation that left her intellectually stimulated and emotionally fulfilled. Their discussions had been a dance of intellect and wit, a symphony of ideas and perspectives that had resonated with Arya on a profound level.

Arya leaned back in her chair, her gaze thoughtful as she listened to Amani’s words. There was a certain allure to their philosophical banter, a dance of words that resonated with the deeper layers of Arya’s intellect. “I suppose it’s all a matter of perspective,” Arya replied with a playful twinkle in her eyes, her voice smooth and velvety like the finest silk. “I suppose Dear Adrian does fancy himself a puppeteer of sorts,” Arya mused, her tone laced with subtle amusement. “But perhaps he forgets that in the game of manipulation, the puppeteer is often just as ensnared by his own strings as those he seeks to control.”

She reached for her chai, swirling the liquid absentmindedly as she considered Amani’s analogy. “As for his daughter,” Arya continued, her voice tinged with a hint of playful skepticism, “she may be his prized puppet, but even the most carefully crafted strings can be cut.”

As Amani compared some to Icaruses and others to the very sun itself, Arya couldn’t help but offer a knowing smile, her words tinged with a hint of flirtatious banter. “Ah, but who’s to say we can’t be both?” she replied with a playful wink, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “After all, isn’t it the fire that fuels our ambitions, that drives us to reach ever greater heights?”

Joining Amani with a raising of her own glass in a silent toast, Arya’s eyes sparkled with mischief as she met her gaze across the table. “To dancing with fire,” she added, her voice filled with a tantalizing mix of challenge and intrigue. “May we always burn bright, even in the darkest of nights. No strings attached

She couldn’t help but appreciate the way Amani effortlessly weaved humor and sincerity together, a skill Arya admired even as she teased. “Btchy or not, honesty is a rare commodity these days,” Arya added, a playful smirk on her lips, and her gaze softening slightly with genuine appreciation.

The mention of Arya being likened to a raven drew a small smirk from her lips, a hint of amusement dancing in her eyes. “Does wisdom perhaps appear on the earth as a raven which is inspired by the smell of carrion?” Arya calmly quoted Nietzsche and paused briefly, letting the words hang in the air.
“A raven, you say?” She then echoed, her tone tinged with playful intrigue. “An interesting choice, considering their reputation for intelligence and mystery. Though I must admit, I’m flattered by the comparison.” She offered Amani a coy smile, her words laced with a subtle flirtation that belied her composed demeanor.

With a tilt of her head and a flicker of amusement in her eyes, Arya leaned back in her chair, exuding an air of confident charm. “Perhaps” she replied, “But you know the old saying, darling,” she added with a coy smile, a magician never reveals her secrets. After all, where’s the fun in laying all your cards on the table?” she added with a touch of irony

Arya’s eyes met Amani’s with a playful glint, her lips curving into a knowing smile as she absorbed the other girl’s words. “always one for indulgence,” Arya remarked with a hint of amusement, her voice a smooth cascade of velvet. “But sweet? Now that’s a flavor I’ve yet to taste from you.” She leaned back in her chair, her posture relaxed yet poised, a picture of composed confidence amidst the bustling cafeteria. “Though forgive me if I don’t usually indulge in sweet nothings,” she added with a playful tilt of her head. “I prefer my indulgences with a bit more spice.”

As Amani’s gaze drifted towards Arya’s drink, Arya watched her with a knowing smile, amused by the other girl’s playful antics. "By all means,"she replied with a playful shrug, her tone casual yet tinged with a hint of curiosity. “Indulge yourself. It’s a dirty chai, actually,” she remarked, a playful glint in her eye as she watched Amani’s reaction. she added, her voice carrying a note of amusement.

Arya couldn’t help but match Amani’s laughter with a smirk of her own, her eyes alight with a spark of playful challenge. “Oh, you have no idea,” she retorted with a playful wink, her tone teasing yet tinged with a hint of intrigue. “But as they say, the thrill is in the challenge. And I do thrive on a good challenge” Arya’s gaze met Amani’s with a playful glint, a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken invitation in her words.
Arya’s surroundings seemed to blur into the background as she focused on the captivating dance of words between herself and Amani. The bustling cafeteria faded into insignificance as their banter took center stage, each playful exchange adding to the tapestry of their complex relationship.


@kristi gah

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Hayes New

{ library / with Inessa }

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Reach out… It would be a lie to say that didn’t cross Hayes’ mind but things have been far more complicated than he could describe. Anyway, what good would it bring if he just interrupted Nessa’s summer? She didn’t need him reaching out… Sure, friends do that when they miss someone but it was… just one summer and he was coming back- Well, he could see why she even had the need to aks him that. No one really knew he would be coming back.

A soft smile reached his lips when he heard Inessa in fact did have a good summer, another reason to not feel bad for texting her. But how was his summer? That was one… Long story. Well, first of all you all heard about his passing romance with Esther? Was she just someone he found to distract himself from his never ending bad thoughts? Maybe… A part of him did look at her in that way, while another part of him did see the girl and truly felt drawn to her. She was a talented performer, he did find those moments of peace that unfortunately didn’t last long when he was with her. And with everything that happened only a few months before, he could not treat the girl in the way she deserved. Could not let her go to Ninth House when he found out that’s what she was planning to do. Could not let her possibly ruin her own life. In his defense, Hayes had his reasons as to why he decided to give her something that would make her ill for a few days, not harming her, so she could stay where was and not embark on this academic journey.

So when he saw her that night of the ball he wanted to make sure he was seeing right… That was Esther? How did she end up here after all of that?

For a second that’s where his thoughts went before Nessa’s voice drew him back to reality. To the dusty old, dimly lit library where he first met her. ”Sorry,“ Hayes mumbled, hearing she did not sound as happy as she usually does. Turning away from her, he walked not that far from where they were standing, dropping his bag on the long, wooden table and taking a seat. Leaning back and now playing with the covers of his notebook that lay on top of his bag, he met her eyes again. ”It was… I’m sorry,“ he repeated, trying to offer her something that resembled a smile with some hints of honest regret on his features. ”Thought it would’ve been better if it was a surprise?“ He tried to get out of it, maybe make her feel better.

His gaze remained on her hand, her fingers wrapped around his arm as she said she was still glad he was back. If he could tell her everything he would… But at least he could still be there to protect her. ”Yeah… It’s gonna be a long year, prepare to see a lot more from me,“ he let himself laugh lightly, lowering his gaze to his belongings on the table. And as much as he wanted to just keep talking to her, keep this conversation light as they always do… keep this positive energy he always felt when he was around her, Hayes just had to ask - ”Hey, uhm… how’s Ren? I heard about… The ball. Having any trouble now? Or you? Is… Everything going well?“ He slowly leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table as he looked up at her again, this time meeting her eyes with more of a serious look on his face.

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@Madilnel - baby nesssa
@Mouschi - Esther mentioned hihi

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Dormitory Building

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Ayla rose at the ungodly hour of five in the morning, having played babysitter to her cousin Lyra who couldn’t handle her wine. Poor thing, Ayla had felt bad about it, so she made sure Lyra stumbled her way back to her own room.

Ayla struggled to find her zen in this new space, her mind a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. The grandeur and beauty of the place should have brought her a sense of peace and wonder, but instead, it only added to her restlessness. She tossed and turned on the unfamiliar bed, the weight of the new surroundings pressing down on her. As she stared up at the ceiling in the dim light of dawn, Ayla couldn’t help but feel a pang of homesickness. The comfort of her own room, the familiar scent of home, the routines that grounded her–all were sorely missed in this alien environment. She missed the easy familiarity of her own space, the cozy nooks and crannies that held her secrets and memories.

As five thirty rolled around, she said screw it and gave herself a killer manicure. Her nails were flawless, and she rocked a white sweater and a black skirt that might’ve been pushing the dress code. But who cares, right? Ayla checked her reflection in the mirror and smirked, feeling confident and ready to conquer whatever challenges the day may bring. She grabbed her laptop and textbooks, ready to head out for her first day of classes at the prestigious university.


Ayla walked into the bustling main area of the dormitory, her keen eye catching the change on her phone from seven fourteen to fifteen. The enticing aroma of fresh pastries and coffee wafted through the air, calling out to her. The mere thought of that sweet, invigorating coffee brought a smile to her face.

Determined to get her caffeine fix, Ayla made a beeline for the nearest lone coffee dispenser, only to find someone already there ahead of her. She patiently waited behind them, eagerly anticipating her turn to savor that first sip of warm, energizing coffee. Except… “Any day now, princess.” She chirped, her impatience masked by a hint of sarcasm.



@Jass | Lyra . Mentioned

Guys and Gals Welcomed ↴

APPROUCHABLE

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Copy of Black Minimal Motivation Quote LinkedIn Banner (1) As Hayes spoke, Inessa couldn’t help but notice the subtle movements of his lips, the way his tongue grazed the roof of his mouth. She admired his straight, white teeth, though she couldn’t help but worry about the long-term effects of smoking on his dental health. His blue eyes, tired yet deep, held a certain allure that captivated her, drawing her into their depths with every glance.

Among the many friends she had, Inessa considered Hayes to be more than just a casual acquaintance. He was a close friend, someone she trusted. Inessa thought of him as a member of her inner circle.

Inessa found it easier to let her guard down around certain individuals in her life, Hayes being one of them. However, this was a sentiment she would never voice aloud, not even to those closest to her. The idea of ranking her friends was something she kept strictly to herself, understanding the delicate nature of friendships and the importance of valuing each one in its own unique way.

Each friendship in Inessa’s life held its own distinct value and benefits. What Inessa gained from each person in her life held significant importance to her, and she was determined to keep it that way. She recognized the effort and investment she had put into these friendships, understanding the value they added to her life.

Inessa met his gaze, sensing the sincerity behind his words, and she found it within herself to accept his apology. How could she not? What reason did Inessa have to stay mad at Hayes? None, really.nessa simply couldn’t justify holding negative feelings towards someone she cared about deeply.

This was a ifference between her brother when it came to handling conflicts. While she was more open to address issues and seek resolution, her brother tended to bottle up his emotions until they inevitably surfaced as larger problems.

“You’re lucky I’m a fan of surprises, but I must admit, they’re even better when they come with something sweet!” Inessa responded with a playful grin, her eyes lighting up at the thought of indulging in a delicious treat (though nothing artificial of course!).

“Yeah… It’s gonna be a long year, prepare to see a lot more from me,” Hayes remarked, she raised an eyebrow. Was this a flirtatious remark? She couldn’t help but wonder, her curiosity piqued by the subtle undertone in his words.

“Consider me intrigued,” she said back, a mischievous twinkle in her eye as she matched his playful tone.

The conversation shifted to a more serious tone, a territory Inessa typically avoided. She wasn’t one to delve into deep discussions, preferring to keep things light. Inessa’s guard softened as she considered his genuine concern.

Inessa hadn’t spoken to her brother in person since yesterday in his room. They had texted, and she tried to FaceTime him, but he didn’t answer. Weird, she thought, he always did. He hadn’t mentioned any trouble, so she assumed everything was fine. “I don’t believe he has any consequences. I think he would’ve definitely told me. He tells me everything!” Inessa responded, her tone conveying a sense of reassurance. Despite the lack of direct communication with her brother, she remained confident in their bond and his willingness to confide in her.

“Sometimes he can be so infuriating though! Like does he not think how that could’ve possibly affected me, the way others looked and thought of me? So reckless, for what reason…” she trailed off, her frustration evident in her tone. As she began to put her guard back up, her thoughts returned to a more composed state, masking her emotions behind a facade of strength and composure.

Feeling the tension in her shoulders, Inessa consciously let them relax, allowing the muscles to loosen as she consciously released the stress that had built up within her.

"If we’re talking about the ball, I didn’t see you much. What were you up to?" Inessa inquired, shifting the focus of the conversation to her companion, curious about his experiences during the event.
@astxrism hayyesssieiee

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Dominic Vaillant

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Dominic’s breathing slowed down to the point of stopping as the man spoke. “If it’s your first year here, then the school’s made a hell of an impression, I’m sure.” His laugh grated on Dominic’s ears. Though a simple statement, he was likely hoping to hear Dominic’s impression of the academy. Once again, he had to think carefully. He’d made enough mistakes, and there was no knowing how many it would take before that monster snaps. But the bigger question was, just what would he like to hear? The silence lingered in the air, the short pause feeling like hours as the tension rose in the air. Dominic found himself looking into the crowd again, as if they were anticipating his response, even if they couldn’t care less.

“It has,” he answered simply, meeting the other man’s eyes. He let the words hang in the air for a moment, using every little moment to think. “It’s impressive, for sure. I’m both amazed by the architecture and the location they’d chosen. In plain sight, yet nobody could guess where it was hiding.” He found himself switching to an overly formal tone, dragging out his words. “And the ball last night, quite a way to welcome new students. I… Enjoyed my first stay at this academy, and I’m eager to see what other surprises it will hold.”

The name Miles North sounded familiar, and the mention of a case further confirmed Dominic’s suspicions. That was the man mourned at the ball, the one who’d disappeared. Dominic nodded in confirmation, the tingling in his hands slowly turning painful.

Cases, plural. Just as Dominic thought, the reason for everyone’s indifference at the ball was because there’d been prior disappearances. They were all aware of it, how a person had vanished without a trace time and time again. And yet the faculty gave a speech like it was the most normal thing ever, and everyone continued with their fun. Why wasn’t anyone doing anything? Dominic couldn’t tell who was involved, for all he knew, the man in front of him could’ve been the main culprit. His promise of sticking together seemed so empty, when he was a complete stranger in a world where you could trust no one.


The tense conversation soon came to an end, cut short as Dominic’s wrists were bound together. He knew how far he pushed it with his words, well aware of all his mistakes so far, and yet he couldn’t hold back from taunting the man even further. Curiousity got the better of him, wondering just how bad things can get. So many possibilities, so many questions swarming through his head. The uncertainty almost excited him.

In the blink of an eye, Dominic found himself on the ground. He gasped, his legs hitting the hard floor. Before he could even process, the man’s fist collided with his face. Sharp pain spread out through his sinuses, making his nose throb from the impact. His arms failed to hold him up, sending him falling to his back. He grit his teeth, exhaling sharply as his hands clenched into fists.

His reaction wasn’t nearly as entertaining as Dominic thought it would be. Just as expected, his words had provoked the man and he dived straight into combat. He was aware of his own strength, of the advantage he had against Dominic. Yet he felt the need to prove himself, maybe out of anger, embarrassment, his hurt ego. Dominic found it laughable. He was as reckless, fragile and stupid as he’d thought. Much like everyone who resorted to violence instead of negotiation. That was one thing Dominic could never understand.

“You’re free now, Nic. Hit me."

Was he playing with him? Testing him? Expecting him to stoop to his level?

Dominic’s eyes widened, instinctively shielding his face with his arms. The man’s fist collided with his bones, impacting both as sharp pain shot through his lower arms. He groaned, his brows furrowing in rage. Another wave of adrenaline rushed through his blood, boiling hot, his energy building up for the chance to strike back.

He clenched his hand into a fist, ignoring the pounding headache and the blood leaking down his lips. He gathered his strength and energy, channeling it into his arm and letting his anger guide him.

And… Nothing.

His arm was frozen in place. He couldn’t strike.

It wasn’t fear, he would’ve known if it was. No, it was something much deeper.

The thought of Dominic’s fist colliding with the other man’s body, inflicting pain regardless of how weak he was — it made him sick to his stomach. He couldn’t hurt another person. Violence despite the circumstances was never an option. Because if he resorted to it, even in this kind of situation, then what would stop him from using it again? What if he lost control? What if he hurt people who never deserved it? What if he became like… Him?

Dominic lowered his fist, his eyes wide as he stared at the ground. He couldn’t even gather the strength to look at the man. He suddenly found himself completely paralyzed, unable to even speak. Those two punches wiped his smug grin right off his face, and he was left completely helpless, just like he always was underneath his mask of arrogance.

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@raviola ⋅𖥔⋅ Vinnie ft. Chadbrad and Bradchad

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Copy of Copy of Silas (1)

[[౨ৎ]

“I don’t think it shall be possible for you to ever be just another face in the crowd,” Amani began, "You’ve always had a way of standing out, even from childhood. Sometimes I can’t decide if I loathe or love that about you "

A moment of thoughtful silence followed as Amani’s gaze lingered on Arya. It was Arya’s distinctiveness, her deeply unconventional personality, that had initially drawn Amani to her. It was her boldness, her ability to easily engage with Amani even when they were young, that had sparked Amani’s interest and led her to consider forming a friendship with Arya. But Arya’s complexity, her unpredictability, had also made her somewhat daunting. Yet, wasn’t that what made Sellenova intriguing? The unpredictability, the element of surprise?

Amani’s lips curved into a sly smile, her eyes alight with a mischievous glimmer as she absorbed Arya’s response. "let’s hope the journey is favorable upon us then,” Amani responded, her voice low and sultry, her words carrying a playful yet suggestive undertone. “With the roads leading us to, well…" She paused for effect, her smirk widening as she leaned in closer, “…to places where secrets are whispered and desires are unleashed,” Amani finally concluded, her voice dropping to a husky whisper. “Where every step is a dance of temptation, and every glance promises untold pleasures.” Amani leaned back into the chair, “Or the roads could also take us to a coffee shop, another one of the ‘just the right places’ wouldn’t you say?” Amani responded, picking up her latte and taking a sip out of it.

She listened to Arya’s musing, taking in all of her words with ‘hmms’ , raising an eyebrow or pretending to write with her pen. Amani had then began musings of her own, speaking as cryptically and playfully as ever as Arya listened. They had ventured into discussions- discussions about their dear headmaster, Adrian. Amani chuckled softly, the sound a gentle echo in the quiet room. “Ah, Sellenova, you do have a way with words,” she said, “Adrian may indeed see himself as the master of puppets, orchestrating events to his whims. Yet, as you so eloquently put it, the strings of fate are entangled, binding all players in its intricate weave. It’s a dance, isn’t it? One where every step, every pull of the string, affects the entire performance. And in this grand spectacle, we are all both puppeteers and puppets, sometimes leading, sometimes being led, and often, just part of the audience, watching how the story unfolds.” And if Amani could truly choose, she would choose simple to be part of the audience, just watching how the story unfolds. Whatever was happening in the school, Amani wanted no parts of it. She did not even want any part of what was happening in her home, the future that was already planned for her, but- Amani looked to the side, her eyes staring at the windows, she will manage.

"She may be his prized puppet, but even the most carefully crafted strings can be cut.”

Arya had said, turning Amani’s attention back to her. Could they? Amani had thought, what if the ropes were made impossible to cut? or what if cutting the ropes could shatter an illusion? She had wanted to ask, but instead, Amani had smiled, “Indeed,” Amani had agreed with a soft chuckle, "This days there are variety of scissors, sharp and precise, each with its own purpose,” Amani replied, using her fingers to make a pair of scissors, "Some are meant for delicate cuts, for unraveling the finest of threads, while others are forged for more… decisive actions.” She leaned forward slightly, her eyes gleaming with a playful glint. “The question, my dear Arya, is not whether the ropes can be cut, but rather, which pair of scissors we choose to wield. After all, in a world of illusions, the one who holds the scissors is the true puppeteer”

The one who is ready to cut off the strings of attachment when necessary, even when i

She knew all too well the pain of letting go, of severing ties that once seemed unbreakable and perhaps no matter how much she longs to deny it, those ties are indeed unbreakable or at least one or two, but it was necessary and the thing with Amani was that she was very aware of the meaning of ‘necessity’ and the pain that comes with it but… Amani eyes flickered to her phone, as time goes on-perhaps that phone will break and Amani gets a new one and she shall not care- just like with time the pain shall seize.

Amani’s eyes met Arya’s as they began to discuss the oh so lovely Icarus, a tale from the famous Ovid’s Metamorphoses in ancient Greece, Amani leaned back, a twinkle of amusement in her eyes. “Well, Arya, if we were both the sun and Icarus, we’d be in quite the conundrum, wouldn’t we?” she mused. “Imagine the sun trying to fly too close to itself, only to realize it’s already where it needs to be. Quite the existential crisis, don’t you think?” She chuckled softly, her gaze playful.“No, let’s not mix metaphors. But I suppose the sun and Icarus are similar in a way that perhaps they were both dreamers, but their dreams differ. The sun, it dreams in fiery bursts of creation, nurturing life from afar, never faltering. Icarus, however, dreamed of freedom, of touching the sky he so loved , of emulating the sun. and yet his ambition was his undoing. The sun on the other hand, can dream with its fiery fire, can be ambitious and its ambition shall not be its undoing. " Amani had always said if she had to choose an element, she would choose fire, because sure water and air are indeed the most powerful elements- everyone is made of water and air, but fire- fire, ah fire, it holds a special allure. Fire to Amani was the element of passion, of transformation, It consumes, but it also purifies. It can destroy, but it also forges anew. Fire is the heart of stars, the core of our very Earth. It’s the spark of ideas, the warmth of love, the blaze of courage. Water may flow, and air may whisper secrets on the wind but fire is life itself, with fire- with passion one forges a clear path for themselves and though Amani path was long chosen, she had found another way to make her path her’s and her’s alone.

Amani raised her glass, a silent toast, her lips could not help but to tug into a wide smile as Arya had playful added no strings attached, “To spontaneity!” Amani had toasted, her face warm, taking a sip of her drink. She couldn’t help but to wonder, just how spontaneous shall this year be? 4th wall break, 4th wall break warning: yeah it’s going to be pretty spontaneous, very chaotic, you will probs wish you didn’t toast to that

Their conversation began to stir from the cryptic banter into a more light hearted conversation. Talks of honesty and even birds. “Nietzsche? quite the cipher of you I have to say,” Amani remarked, raising a brow as she finished her toast. “Is it really that interesting of a choice, when it is merely the obvious one?” she inquired, flipping through the pages of her notebook until she settled on a specific page. Bringing her pen close to the paper as if preparing to write, she continued, “Their allure lies in their mystery and intelligence, typically praised qualities.” Amani’s gaze remained fixed on her pen rather than Arya. “But if I were a true aficionado of birds, what would captivate me is their ability to navigate shadows with grace and poise,” she paused, a small smile etching across her face, “Much like someone I know,” she flirted, shifting her eyes away from her pen and up towards the brunette.

Curiosity had gotten the best of Amani, as she had began to ask questions targeted towards Arya’s life, interested to know what has been occurring. At Arya’s cryptic tone about her life, Amani had asked if a little birdie had told her to keep quiet, to which Arya had responded perhaps. “Birds this days, always chirping, never keeping quiet am I right?” she echoed, a playful smirk playing at the corners of her lips as she took a sip of her coffee. “Ah, but even the most secretive magicians have their trusted confidants,” she mused, her voice a soft purr of intrigue. “And sometimes, just a peek behind the curtain can make the show all the more thrilling. But ‘game is game’ and I respect the allure of mystery and games I suppose,” she conceded with a graceful nod, “and I’ll enjoy the performance, secrets and all. Just remember, every magician needs an audience, and I’m all eyes and ears, Sellenova.”

If their conversation before now had transitioned to one that was lighthearted, it has transitioned itself back again to a more peculiar conversation. “Really?” Amani had questioned with a small laugh, “Yet, meaning there’s still a possibility no?” Amani had teasingly asked, “You could swing by my room sometime, I got a lot of sweet flavor I could show you.” she brought her pen near her lips, as she paused, a glint of mischief in her eyes, “I’m talking about candy of course, unless you fancy yourself a different sweet flavor” Amani winked. As Arya continued, Amani had arched a brow, “Spice, you say?” she quipped, her eyes dancing with mirth. “Well, Arya, I’ve always been more of a cinnamon than sugar. A little sharp, perhaps, but always warming.” She leaned forward, her elbows resting on the table, bringing them closer.

She had requested a sip from Arya’s drink, to which Arya with a smile, had granted the request, telling her it was dirty chai. Amani lifted the cup to her lips, the steam from the dirty chai teasing her senses. She took a tentative sip, the robust flavor of the tea laced with espresso washing over her palate. A moment passed, and she set the cup down with a delicate clink, her eyes locking with Arya’s in a playful challenge, "I seem to have forgotten just how potent a dirty chai can be,” she remarked, the corner of her mouth quirking up. " It’s quite… invigorating.”

Amani’s chuckle danced in harmony with Arya’s smirk, her own eyes gleaming with amusement and a hint of admiration for Arya’s playful banter . “Indeed, the thrill is in the challenge,” Amani replied, her voice tinged with a playful edge. “And I have no doubt you excel at rising to the occasion.” With a graceful movement, Amani rose from her seat, setting her empty cup aside with a flick of her wrist. “Well, as much as I’d love to linger in the thrill of our banter,” she remarked, her gaze sweeping over Arya as Amani packed her things inside her bag, “I find myself craving a change of scenery.”

“Care to join me for a stroll?” Amani asked, a coy smile playing at the corners of her lips. “Who knows what mysteries we might uncover along the way.”


@CerealKiller

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Dante


It was the first morning back at the academy, and grudgingly Dante got out of bed in the morning. It had been way too early. Everyone who had met Dante only once, already knew he was an evening person, and definitely under no condition he was a morning person. Yet, somehow, Dante felt some excitement about this new year, he got to meet some new people, that was the very best part about today. That was what had driven him to get out of bed early, compared to his usual alarm that went sometime halfway during breakfast at least. He just wanted to vibe, have some small talk here and there, and silently judge some people, cause why not?

He went over to the main part of the dormitory, eager to get a cup of coffee. He needed it if he would be getting through this day. There was a bit of line however, so Dante did what Dante did best. He leaned casually against the wall, idly scrolling through his phone as he waited for his turn at the coffee dispenser. The dormitory’s main area buzzed with activity, but amidst the chatter and movement, one voice stood out.

Any day now, princess,” a voice chirped, dripping with sarcasm.

Dante glanced up from his phone, intrigued by the sharpness of the comment. His gaze fell on a girl standing next to the coffee maker, her sarcastic humor hardly masking her impatience. Her comment was so bold and out there, that he couldn’t help but smirk. He did not know this girl, but he could already tell she was a handful, but Dante didn’t mind that, in fact, he could appreciate her bold personality.

“Looks like someone’s not a morning person,” Dante said, his tone playful. “But hey, who can blame you? If you don’t want to fall asleep during class around here, coffee is a necessity.” He playfully let out a yawn, showcasing the classes weren’t all that interesting to him. What he was interested in however, was getting to know this girl. Dante did that in the only way he knew how to, by teasing and testing her, jabbing at her subtly. “So, what’s the rush? Got any important meetings before class on the very first day, or are you just really, really into your coffee?” His voice was teasing, but there was a subtle jab in his statement. It wasn’t even breakfast time yet, on their first day of all days, and she was already rushing and stressing through her days, Dante didn’t understand the need for that.


@Tina.G - Ayla

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“Looks like someone’s not a morning person,” Ayla stayed planted where she was, mumbling “I didn’t realize an expert in morning personality was present. Thank you for enlightening me.” She glanced over her shoulder at him. “But hey, who can blame you? If you don’t want to fall asleep during class around here, coffee is a necessity.” She poured her coffee and took a sip. Took a deep breath, turned around, watched him yawn. She took another sip to make sure she didn’t yawn back in reply.

“So, what’s the rush? Got any important meetings before class on the very first day, or are you just really, really into your coffee?” Ayla tapped a finger to her chin, looking up as if lost in thought. “Important meetings? Yeah, just the usual—world destruction discussion, if we can bring back the Labrador duck, planning to break the world records for most cups of coffee consumed in a day.” She replied with a smirking smile, taking another deliberate sip of her coffee to maintain her cool composure.

Ayla found herself unconsciously leaning in closer, drawn to the probing exchange of words and the spark of wit in his eyes. She thrived off social interaction, relishing in the banter even in the brisk morning. Her body language mirrored her engagement, the subtle shift in her posture signaling her new interest in their conversation. Ayla smiled slightly, but took a sip to not so subtlety hide it, as she awaited his next response.

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@Jass | Dante

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Dining hall || with Amani


Arya’s lips curved into a coy smile as she absorbed Amani’s words, her gaze unwavering and filled with playful intrigue. “Well, I suppose being forgettable was never my forte” Arya remarked, her voice smooth and velvety, masking the subtle layers of amusement within. “But as they say, it’s better to be loathed than forgotten entirely. Though either way, it seems I’ve left quite the impression on you, Amani.”

A moment of silence hung between them, filled with the weight of unspoken thoughts and shared history. Arya’s gaze met Amani’s with a glint of playful challenge, acknowledging the complexity of their connection. It was a dance they had engaged in since childhood, a game of push and pull that had woven the fabric of their relationship with threads of intrigue and fascination.

As Amani’s smile grew sly, Arya’s lips curved into a knowing smirk, her eyes alight with a playful glimmer. She savored the tension that crackled between them, a silent exchange of wit and allure. “Indeed,” Arya replied, her tone low and measured, matching Amani’s sultry demeanor. “Let’s embrace the uncertainty of the journey,” Arya’s words carried a hint of tantalizing suggestion, a subtle invitation to explore the depths of possibility. With a subtle tilt of her head, Arya allowed a hint of mischief to dance in her eyes as she leaned forward slightly, mirroring Amani’s gesture. “After all,” she added with a playful wink, “what’s life without a little adventure?” she asked playfully “And coffee for that matter”

Arya’s eyes sparkled with intrigue as she listened to Amani’s cryptic musings, her mind dissecting each word with a keen sense of curiosity. She listened intently, her expression one of thoughtful consideration, her eyes narrowing slightly in concentration. Each ‘hmm’ and subtle movement of her pen was a silent acknowledgment of Arya’s words. Arya’s mind was like a labyrinth, each twist and turn leading her deeper into the maze of Amani’s thoughts.
Amani’s chuckle echoed softly in the quiet room, a sound that seemed to linger in the air like the fading notes of a melody. Arya couldn’t help but smile in response, a knowing glint in her eyes as she absorbed Amani’s words. “It’s a dance for sure,” Arya murmured, her voice a smooth cascade of velvet as she leaned back in her chair, her gaze fixed on Amani’s. “A dance of shadows and light, of secrets and revelations. Adrian may see himself as the master puppeteer, but even he is bound by the strings of fate, tangled in the web of his own design.”

Arya’s eyes gleamed with a subtle spark of amusement as Amani demonstrated her metaphorical scissors, her fingers tracing the shape of the imaginary blades with a playful grace. “Ah, the art of wielding scissors,” Arya remarked, her tone light yet tinged with a hint of intrigue. “A skill mastered by few, yet coveted by many.” She leaned forward slightly, her gaze locking with Amani’s, a silent challenge passing between them like a whisper in the wind. “Indeed, there are scissors for every occasion, each with its own purpose and precision. But the true mark of mastery lies not in the tool itself, but in the hand that wields it.”

“In the end,” Arya added with a knowing smile, “it’s not about who holds the scissors, but rather, who holds the power to see through the illusions and cut the strings that bind us.” Her words carried a depth of insight, a reflection of her own philosophical musings on the nature of control and autonomy. There was a subtle flicker of intrigue in Arya’s eyes as she met Amani’s gaze, a silent acknowledgment of the power they both held in their hands.

Arya’s gaze remained fixed on Amani as she listened to her musings on the tale of Icarus, her mind weaving through the intricate layers of Amani’s words like a skilled artist painting strokes on a canvas. There was a depth to Amani’s thoughts, a richness that spoke to Arya’s own appreciation for the complexities of human existence.
“A conundrum indeed,” Arya remarked with a playful smirk, her voice carrying a hint of intrigue. “To be both the sun and Icarus is to walk the fine line between ambition and contentment, between reaching for the heavens and embracing the ground beneath our feet.” She paused, allowing Amani’s words to linger in the air like wisps of smoke.

Arya’s mind raced with the imagery of fiery bursts and soaring aspirations, her thoughts weaving a tapestry of meaning and metaphor. “The sun,” she mused, her voice taking on a poetic cadence, “a symbol of unwavering strength and eternal beauty, casting its radiant light upon the world with effortless grace. And yet, even the sun harbors dreams of its own, dreaming in fiery bursts of creation, dreams of igniting the skies with its very own fire.”
A subtle smile played upon Arya’s lips as she continued, her words carrying a depth of insight born from years of contemplation. “But Icarus,” she added, her tone tinged with a hint of melancholy, “a creature of boundless ambition, yearning to touch the heavens with wings of wax and feather. His dreams were lofty, his spirit untamed, but, his ambition proved to be his undoing. is it not better to soar too close to the sun than to never spread one’s wings at all?” Arya wondered, her brow rising ever so lightly as she gazed at amani. “In the end,” Arya concluded with a knowing smile, “perhaps it’s not about mixing metaphors, but rather, embracing the duality of our nature. For we are both the sun and Icarus, dreamers and creators, bound by the chains of our ambitions yet liberated by the fire within.”

Arya’s lips curled into a knowing smirk at Amani’s remark, her eyes sparkling with a hint of amusement. “Nietzsche does have a certain allure, doesn’t he?” Arya replied with a playful twinkle in her eyes, her voice smooth and velvety like the finest silk. “But then again, so do ravens.” she mused with a hint of playful skepticism. Arya’s gaze flickered with amusement as Amani dissected the symbolism of the raven, her words weaving a tapestry of intrigue and fascination. “the shadows hold their own brand of beauty, hidden from the prying eyes of the world. But it takes more than just anyone to navigate them with elegance, dancing in the shadows, weaving through the complexities of life with grace and poise.”
As Arya spoke, her eyes traced the delicate lines of Amani’s features, a silent appreciation for the beauty and intelligence that radiated from her. “And who’s to say,” Arya continued with a coy smile, “that the true allure of the raven isn’t found in its ability to capture the imagination, to inspire wonder and curiosity in those who dare to jump head on into its mysteries?”
With a subtle flick of her wrist, Arya gestured towards the notebook in Amani’s hands, a playful challenge in her gaze. “Maybe,” she suggested with a knowing smirk, “we could learn a thing or two from the little birdies.”

Amani’s mention of trusted confidants drew a small quirk of Arya’s eyebrow, a silent acknowledgment of the complexities hidden beneath the surface of their banter. “but isn’t the allure of mystery what keeps life interesting?” Arya replied, her voice a smooth cascade of velvet. “Like a well-crafted illusion, the thrill lies in the unknown, the anticipation of what lies beyond the curtain.” She mused, her voice tinged with a hint of mystery. “And besides, the show is far from over.”
Arya’s lips curved into a playful smirk as she met Amani’s teasing remarks with a glint of mischief in her own eyes. “Oh, the possibility always exists, doesn’t it? Life is full of surprises, after all.” Arya replied, her tone light yet tinged with a hint of intrigue. “Though I must admit, I do have quite the sweet tooth for… unexpected flavors,” she added, her words carrying a subtle undertone of flirtation.
As Amani mentioned being a cinnamon rather than sugar, Arya’s eyebrow arched in amused curiosity, her lips curling into a playful smirk. “cinnamon,” Arya echoed, her voice tinged with playful skepticism. “sharp, spicy, yet warm and comforting. Quite the intriguing combination, I must say.”

Amani lifted the cup to her lips, and Arya watched with a knowing glint in her eyes, the steam rising from the chai swirling like tendrils of intrigue around them. The taste of the dirty chai seemed to dance across Amani’s palate, and Arya couldn’t help but notice the subtle shift in her expression as she set the cup down with a delicate clink. “A little kick of potency to keep things interesting.”

“Definitely,” Arya replied, her voice smooth and velvety, carrying a hint of playful challenge. “But let’s not forget that every challenge presents an opportunity for victory.” Her words held a subtle undertone of competitiveness, a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken tension that simmered beneath the surface. “and I know you well enough to know you love winning no less than I do” she added with a smirk on her lips
As Amani rose from her seat, Arya’s gaze followed her movements with a sense of curiosity, her eyes lingering on the graceful lines of Amani’s figure. “A change of scenery sounds like a good idea,” Arya responded with a coy smile, her eyes meeting Amani’s with a spark of intrigue “And besides, it really smells like sweat in here” she let out a huff of a laugh, glancing at the tables near them.


@Kristi

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