Ninth House | Official RP Thread

RenNew
Maybe he was rude for asking this girl for a Kleenex, but he had blood trickling from his eyebrow, and that wasn’t ideal. He watched her rummage through her bag, pulling out a small packet of tissues.

“Thanks,” Renlin replied, pressing the tissue against the cut. “Just had a bit of a rough morning."

Renlin," he said, managing a smile despite the throbbing pain in his face. “Not the best first impression, I know.”

He looked at her really for the first time now that he wasn’t distracted with his wound. She was short, really short. And that was saying something since he was somewhat of a giant. Thanks, Father!

Renlin noticed the details now. She had an edgy style, with medium length, maybe choppy hair that framed her face. Her clothes were a mix of vintage and modern, at least that’s what he thought. She carried herself with an air of confidence, despite her small stature.

“I think you might need more than just that. Isn’t there a nurse or something?” she said to him, her concern evident.

Renlin was highly against that. If he went there, odds were the head man in charge would find out, and Renlin didn’t feel like spending time in his office anytime soon again—not twice within 24 hours at least.

He shook his head. “Nah, it’s just a scratch. I’ve had worse.” He waved it off, trying to sound nonchalant.

“What’s your deal? Anything else in that bag that’s more interesting than a Kleenex? I mean, it saved my day. Maybe you’re my guardian angel?” Renlin teased, half-serious, half-joking, as he glanced at the bag she was carrying. he had asked, trying to shift the focus away from his battered face and the fight with Tae So.

He didn’t know her. She must be new. Renlin prided himself on knowing everyone, and new people always intrigued him. He watched her for a moment, taking in her short stature and style. She seemed out of place and yet completely self-assured.

As he pondered, his fingers instinctively found their way into his pocket, searching for the familiar comfort, one of hai coins. Feeling the cool metal against his skin, he gripped it tightly in his palm, a grounding presence amid the chaos of his thoughts.

As he stood there, gripping the coin in his pocket and taking in the new girl, his mind wandered to what his sister, Inessa, would say when she found out about the fight. Inessa had always been the more level-headed of the two, often playing the role of his moral compass. She would undoubtedly be disappointed, maybe even angry.

He could already picture her face, a mix of frustration and concern, her brow furrowing as she crossed her arms and gave him that look. Renlin sighed inwardly, imagining the inevitable lecture about thinking before acting, about not letting his emotions get the better of him. She’d remind him of their family’s precarious reputation and how his actions reflected on all of them.

But deeper than her disappointment, he knew she’d be worried. Inessa had always been protective, ever since they were kids. She would want to know every detail, why he had gotten into a fight, and if he was okay. She’d ask about Tae So, too, and whether the rift between their families had widened even further.

Renlin’s grip on the coin tightened. He hated disappointing her. Inessa had been through enough without him adding to her worries. He wanted to find a way to explain it all to her, to make her understand why he had lost control. Maybe she would have some advice, something that could help him navigate this mess.

But for now, he pushed those thoughts aside, focusing on the present moment. There would be time to deal with Inessa’s reaction later. Right now, he had to figure out how to clean up and make a better impression on the new girl, despite the blood and bruises.

@novella freeeyyyaa

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Copy of Copy of Copy of Silas

[𓆩⟡𓆪 𓆩⟡𓆪 𓆩⟡]

“It’s not your job to look after me.” Though those words were uttered frankly, Thalia had also stated it to make a point—the fact that it was really not Desdemona’s job to look after her. They were friends, yes, close friends if you will, whose friendship had not been quite long but still had managed to click in no time. Thalia appreciated Desdemona—no, that was not the right word. There wasn’t truly a word Thalia could use to describe her feelings for Desdemona and how happy she was to have her. But at the same time, Thalia worried for her. She was worried that Desdemona was taking on too much.

Desdemona’s willingness to help, to be there for Thalia in every way possible, was admirable. It was endearing and touching, but it was also a source of concern. Thalia feared that in her eagerness to support, Desdemona might be neglecting her own needs and happiness. Desdemona had once told Thalia she was the center of her world, and Thalia had smiled at that, laughed at that even as she gave her a hug and a kiss on her cheek on how innocents those words sounded, but she wondered, how much did Mona mean that truly.

"But I want to!" Desdemona had interrupted, and Thalia couldn’t help but smile despite herself. There was something fiercely endearing about Mona’s determination to make her feel better, even if it was misguided. Thalia’s headache pulsed, reminding her of her own frailty, but she pushed it aside. She needed to be present, for Mona’s sake.

“I know you do,” Thalia smiled as Desdemona swung their hands forward and back, “But really, you also have to take care of your own self. And besides, really, I’m okay, I can handle my own self, today was Just a little rough morning, that’s all.” Now, Thalia wasn’t too sure of the ‘i can handle my own self’ part, but maybe if she could convince herself and Desdemona enough, it will come true

When Desdemona started talking about Esther, Thalia’s focus sharpened. Near death? Not an accident? There was so many implications on this, so many reasons that seemed to connect back to each other. It was strange really, how during the day when the Headmaster had finally acknowledged the disappearance of North, Esther suddenly fell ill, almost close to death. Direct or indirectly, these two situations had to be connected in some way or form, and Thalia wanted- no, she needed to know more about the situation. “If it wasn’t an accident, do you think someone did it on purpose? Or was it some kind of magical backlash?” She was careful with her questions, not wanting to push Desdemona too hard or cause alarm when there was not yet proved need for alarm, “It’s okay, if you don’t know,” Thalia had said softly, “But did you happen to hear something? Other than Atlas, was another name mentioned?” She questioned, "Sorry, am I asking too many questions? " She let out a small laugh, one she hoped did not sound quite too nervous, “I’m just really intrigued by all this,”

“Think of super man,” Thalia had alluded to, with a playful shrug of the shoulders, “He does not even wear a mask and yet people can’t tell his identity, because he’s wearing different clothes and his posture has changed. It’s the same way with masquerade balls, I think, or well, how I understand them. We can become someone entirely different with just a mask and a change in demeanor.” There was a sense of relief Thalia had gotten, wearing that mask at the ball, because, yes, indeed even though her mask did not fully cover her face, there was still a sense of protection from them. Even if she did stupid shxt, she had the mask to blame. It allowed her to act more freely, without the usual fear of judgment as people who aren’t used to seeing her everyday, cannot really tell it’s her- oh, well accurately make out her face.

“Maybe his story wasn’t true, but maybe he wants it to be, you know? For something like that to happen, so he tells it to himself and others with the hope that it might. I wouldn’t hold that against him.”

True, Thalia also could not hold that against him. She was a writer after all, and a photographer- one who tells stories, whether fake or real true words and pictures, creating a sense of ‘there-ness’ for things that aren’t really ‘there’. And Thalia was definitely not much of a truther herself, she was a liar- she would admit, one who lies when needed for her own benefit, so she supposed it would be quite hypocritical to judge him. “Mmm,” Thalia mused, “I suppose we can’t really hold that against him,” Though Thalia was quite sure that was not the reason he had told the lie- he had merely lied for the sake of lying, because he was bored and because he was a performer, but it seemed that Desdemona was quite impressed by him, even if it was under some deluded fantasy, and Thalia did not want to break her spirit, or argue with her, really- especially not now.

It’s strange still, really, the idea that Atlas and Esther- two people she wouldn’t have really connected together in her web, had some connections with each other- a history of some sorts, whatever that history was. She should take note of this, be sure to add it later. Thalia reached into her pocket, bringing out her phone, typing the password- *****, she opened her note apps and wrote, Esther and Atlas- connected??? and then swiftly placed her phone back inside her pocket. Her attention back at Desdemona.

They had continued talking, Desdemona’s sharing her worries, when she had suddenly shared a noise about side effects, causing Thalia’s eyes to widen. Side effects? What does she mean side effects? Thalia wondered, as she cupped Desdemona’s jaw, albeit a tad bit roughly, What happened, tell me? She had asked, worried visible in her tired eyes as she continued her questions, asking if she needed to be taken to the school nurse, and Thalia did not know what she was expecting, but it was definitely not the reaction Desdemona had. Desdemona had threw her crossed arms open, making Thalia stumble a bit in shock as she blinked rapidly. huh? Was she scared of the nurse or something along those lines? She had never seen Desdemona respond this way, and her eyes watched Desdemona’s as Thalia regained her composure, walking closer to her again, as Desdemona quickly apologized.’ I just felt a little dizzy, but that’s normal’ Sure, just dizziness, Thalia definitely believed that, yup just dizziness, that was why she responded the way she did, sureeeee. “Alright, no nurse,” ,she agreed gently, though her gaze still meticulously scanned Desdemona’s features for any other signs of distress, “Any reason why though?” Thalia had said this in a manner that suggested ‘you could keep me in the dark or you could tell me’ to not alarm Desdemona. She wanted to see, if Desdemona would lie to her again, or if she would give an actual reason, though she was not going to force it out.


Do you really think they’ll like me? Thalia turned to face Desdemona, as she turned on her camera. “No,” At this, Thalia’s face was blank but her eyes was quite playfully, signifying she was joking, “They will love you She had place dos much emphasis on the word love. “Wyndham needs someone like you, this days, it’s too gloomy,” She grimaced. When her camera had finally turned on, a bright smile had reached Thalia’s face, as she scrolled quickly pass photos that were ‘suspicious’ into the more ‘normal innocent ones’ . “Alright, let’s take a little journey through Wyndham together,” she said, her tone light and playful.

Thalia began showing Desdemona the snapshots she had captured: the grandeur of the campus buildings, the serene beauty of the gardens, and the bustling energy of the students going about their day

“And here,” she said, pausing on a particularly scenic shot of the sunset painting the sky in hues of pink and gold, “is where we’ll make countless memories together.”


@raviola

a little trashy but i tried my best

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Copy of Copy of Copy of Silas

𓆩[⟡𓆪 𓆩⟡𓆪 𓆩⟡]

Clone

Thalia found herself meandering towards the hallowed halls of Enchanted Music compositions, propelled by a conversation with Desdemona that lingered in the shadows of her thoughts. The prospect of attending class didn’t exactly spark excitement within her; however, the residue of their exchange seemed to infuse her with a peculiar sense of renewal. Skipping classes was never Thalia’s style; the aftermath of catching up with missed work often proved more burdensome than the class itself. Mercifully, the day’s proceedings were benign, the first post-vacation session lending itself to casual conversation. Thalia, as was her custom, allowed her attention to wander, her gaze fixed vacantly upon the window’s view as she tapped her fingers on her desk. When class had ended, she had been the first to leave, to head to her other morning classes.

When the clock had hit 1:30 pm signifying Thalia’s lunch period, instead of the cafeteria, she had headed straight to the library, she wasn’t particularly hungry, and if she does get hungry, she had snacks inside her bag, so it wasn’t really a cause for concern. She tended to do this- every other day, heading to the library instead of the cafeteria, for many many reasons- one, because she genuinely enjoyed the library, it was quiet, a great way to look at all the photos she had taken, to analyze them and maybe start on an essay or two, some days before it is due, and also because she was sure that he was not come here, it was an easy way to avoid him and an easy way to catch up with all kinds of ‘work’- a win-win situation if you asked her.

Thus, when she opened the door to the library, Thalia had felt a sense of serene as she basked in the library’s peacefulness, it was a huge- HUGE contrasts to the events of last night and she let out a peaceful sigh at that, slipping into her usual spot at one of the study tables, her bag gently settling on the chair beside her as she extracted her sketchbook. She had stood up momentarily, to grab a textbook, to put below her sketchbook. She liked to doodle some times, it was a good way to remove stress, and analyze her photos, by doodling all that she sees in those pictures- the foreground, the background, the outfits, all of that. She had taken her camera from her bag, closing her eyes as she scrolled through the photos in it, which ever photo she opens her eyes too, that was the one she was going to doodle for a while, she decided. After some seconds, her eyes had shot open, and she pursued her lips as she landed on a photo of her- the girl from yesterday who Thalia did not know the name of.

God, yesterday was quite embarrassing, and Thalia was not quite sure if she wanted to doodle this picture as it was sure to remind her of the events of yesterday, no? But she had promised, she had promised herself she was to choose a photo to doodle, and besides she was probably not going to see that girl, again so what was the harm?

She had brought out her pencil case and began to sketch, doodling people behind the brunette, then doodling her dress, and when it was time to doodle her face, Thalia erased and erased- as she could not quite get the nose right, or her eyes due to the fact it was covered by a mask. shxt, she cursed, why is this so hard? she questioned to herself as she erased for the 9th time. Really, she was close to given up, and just starting another story- or maybe leaving the library to take a couple pictures, when she had froze.

There-standing near one of the library sections, was the girl from last night looking conflicted. Thalia’s first reaction, was to panic, to slip away before the short brunette noticed her, but she stayed still- blinking and unsure of what to do, until the brunette titled her head to the side, giving Thalia a pretty good idea on how to attempt to sketch her nose and eye from the side. Still, with how quickly she had titled her head, Thalia was scared she had seen her at first, but that did not seem to be the case, so Thalia had calmed down, squinting her eyes to get a better look at the girl’s features. as she committed it to her memory. She made a mental note of the way her hair fell in soft waves around her face, the curve of her jawline, the slight furrow of her brow. She had doodled it all, her hand’s soft, and carefully as she captured the girl’s likeness on paper, a soft smile on her face, though as soon as that smile had come, that smile had immediately seized to an end, as Thalia closed her notebook, seeing her approach. “Hey,” Thalia began, hoping to play it cool, “Can I be of help?” She had questioned, arching a brow- hoping that the girl did not recognize her and if she did, she wrote off the events of last night as a simple drunken accident, and be off in her merry way or maybe Thalia should try apologizing, but that is of course, only if the girl did remember her.


@novella - Freya

InessaNew-ezgif.com-optimize

“You should go catch up with your friends, huh?” Hayes said to her, a weak smile playing on his lips. Their hands parted, and she instinctively reached for the strap of her bag.

They were now in music class, a place Inessa adored. Music had always been a highlight of her life. She had been taught to play many instruments, but the piano was her first love, a talent inherited from her mother. The violin, too, held a special place in her heart, its haunting melodies resonating with her soul. Yet, dancing to the music was her ultimate joy…

The sight of the gleaming instrument brought a small, genuine smile to her face. She glanced back at Hayes, catching his eye for a brief moment.She nodded towards him, the corners of her mouth turning up slightly. Yeah, I guess I should," she agreed softly, her voice carrying a mixture of reluctance and acceptance.

Did she really want to say goodbye to him? Not really, but they didn’t hang out much outside the library or walks around campus. They had different groups of friends, and she was not one for mixing friend groups. Sometimes she would wonder what it would be like to bridge those gaps, to let the lines blur a bit more.

As she glanced back at Hayes, a pang of reluctance tugged at her. Their time together was always a step back from the complexities of her social circles, a space where she could be more of herself without the pressures of expectations. Their dynamic was unique, built on shared moments in quiet corners and deep conversations that rarely saw the light of day.

“I guess I’ll see you around,” she said, her voice softer than intended.

Inessa did like school. Most people didn’t really. She liked going to class. She liked the routine. She liked learning. After all, knowledge is power. She knew that to be very true. She had that edge: actual school knowledge. She excelled in her studies, and she had a knack for social knowledge as well.

Inessa’s academic prowess set her apart. She thrived in the classroom, always eager to participate and push herself to learn more. Her grades were impeccable, a testament to her dedication and intelligence. Teachers appreciated her enthusiasm, and classmates often sought her help with subjects.

But it wasn’t just the academics that she mastered. Inessa also understood the subtleties of social dynamics. She navigated the intricate web of friendships, alliances, and rivalries with ease. She knew who to trust, who to be wary of, and how to use her charm to her advantage.

Her ability to balance these two worlds, academic and social, gave her a unique advantage. She was well-rounded, capable of engaging in intellectual debates one moment and seamlessly shifting to light-hearted conversations the next.

Inessa walked through the classroom with confidence, her sundress swaying with each step.

Though when she caught a glance at who was now next to her, a sigh was released and a fake smile plastered onto her face. “What did I do to have you in the class with me?” she joked, but was it really a joke? She had been planning to avoid Dante. She had no reason to be around him now that summer was over anyway. They had very little in common. Though summer had been fun, it was over now.

Inessa rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the slight upward tug at the corner of her mouth. She glanced around the classroom, trying to find a seat far enough from Dante but close enough to her usual spot.l

Her mind flashed back to the late nights and lazy days they’d spent together, the laughter and moments shared. It had been fun, but it was also a distraction.
Inessa shook her head, a reluctant smile had formed now.

@astxrism bye haysies
@Jass dan

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Dante


As Inessa entered the class, Dante couldn’t suppress a small smirk, Inessa was definitely an attractive girl, and all the memories and desire they had shared over the summer, it was something Dante wouldn’t forget. Dante wouldn’t be Dante if the idea of a forbidden love hadn’t appealed to him.

His mind drifted back to those summer evenings, the way her laughter would light up the night and how her touch had felt electric against his skin. The thrill of sneaking around, of keeping their relationship a secret from Renlin, had only added to the allure. There was something intoxicating about the risk, the danger of being caught, and the intense connection they had shared.

However, Dante’s smirk faded slightly as he caught the tension in Inessa’s fake smile and heard her sarcastic remark. The memory of his promise to Renlin, his best friend and Inessa’s brother, and especially him breaking that promise, now weighed heavily on him. He couldn’t afford to let their summer fling complicate things now that they were back in the school environment.

“Looks like fate has a twisted sense of humor,” he replied, keeping his tone light and casual despite the underlying tension. He forced a relaxed smile, trying to mask his own internal conflict. “Guess we’ll just have to survive this class together.”

He noticed her subtle attempt to find a seat away from him, and he understood her reasons. The summer had been a whirlwind of fun and spontaneity, but it was over now, and they both had to navigate the boundaries they had crossed.

“Inessa,” he said, his voice dropping to a more serious, almost whispering tone, “let’s just keep things cool, alright? We don’t need any drama. Summer was fun, but we’re back to reality now.” He glanced around the room, making sure no one was paying too much attention to their interaction. “I’ll keep my distance if that’s what you want. Just… no hard feelings, okay?”

He leaned back in his chair, giving her space to decide where to sit, but he couldn’t help the pang of regret that settled in his chest. The connection they had shared was undeniable, but for the sake of his friendship with Renlin and to avoid any unnecessary complications, he knew they had to keep things under wraps.


@Madilnel - Inessa

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Vinnie, this is probably rlly bad but it’s what ur getting cos I’m tired asf but I needed to get this out cos I wanna do other stuff too

Turning toward the freezer, Vincenzo watched Renlin come to the table with an icy steak to his eye, hearing the sound of his weight settling on the chair when he sat. He raised his chin as the man spoke, stretching out his neck to ease some of the tension in his body.

“Hm. I should’ve thought of that,” he said, wondering why he didn’t. He supposed he just thought of the peas only because the rest of the items in the freezer were covered in little spikes of frost, since they had been in there for so long. He also didn’t think he’d ever heard of anyone using that, even if it was old school. Steak was expensive, and he didn’t know if he should be unfazed or surprised there was one in there, it was still a college campus after all.

Renlin shook his head, chuckling. "Can you imagine the gossip if we did get in a fight? 'Renlin and Vinnie, best of buddies, the great Umbra brothers, turn on each other. The world must be ending.”

Listening to him, Vincenzo chuckled, endeared by the corny way that Ren spoke. It wasn’t often that Vincenzo found simply spoken things like that endearing, but Renlin was unique from others to Vincenzo. Not only was he the first student he spoke to when he first got to the campus, but he was also the first person he met that really remained optimistic for him. With the people at the orphanage, most of them, if they weren’t struggling with him, were the ones making him suffer. In prison, he supposed he made some friendships, but all of them ended… badly. In the institution there was a girl, but she became a distant memory after some months. Even at the place that was supposed to have become something like a home, Aurora tried to act like he didn’t exist, and Adrian was suspicious in almost every way. And then there were his parents, but he hardly remembered them.
With Renlin though, it had just always been a sort of thing like ”meet me after class,” or “stop by my dorm tonight, I’ll feel like a loser if I drink by myself,” for four years. The only good person that stayed, and the only person he allowed to stay. Everyone else didn’t matter, he just needed one or two good friends. Perhaps that was why Vincenzo looked past his mistakes, especially the ones that he wouldn’t let anyone else move past from.
“Yeah, I don’t think either of us would let that happen,” he shook his head, a sober smile across his lips.

He said it with confidence, but a part of him was a bit surprised they never had disagreed on anything heavier than a small remark. Most of it came from a bit of guilt on his part. Sometimes he worried that even though Renlin was a nice guy, he might be taking advantage by asking to experiment with his dreams.
Even then though, their flaws seemed to be very even.

Renlin told him who he had been fighting and Vincenzo’s expression lost a bit of spark. They were talking about Isaac again, and his face begged to be met by his palm because of it. As someone who lost family himself, it felt to him that Isaac’s death should have only brought them closer together. They had each other to understand their pain, and if it were him, he would never let that go to waste, not knowing what he knows now. And then obviously he had to yell at Tae like he hadn’t lost a brother too.

But he couldn’t say that outright, and felt sh^tty for even thinking it, so Vincenzo controlled himself, and let him continue because, as expected, he already seemed remorseful.

Even though it wasn’t good the way he acted, it was calming to know that he could still be trusted to reflect properly, like a kid who makes mistakes, and then tattles on themselves. He just had to be understanding with that part of Ren; his innocence.

“How’s he doing right now?” Vincenzo asked him, imagining what injuries he might’ve possibly inflicted on the guy. He could only hope they were minor. He’d hate to see something serious happen to the Dumans over an ill-reasoned fight.

“Do you ever feel like you’re not really in control?” Renlin asked, breaking the silence. “Like there’s something else pulling the strings?”

“All the time,” Vincenzo answered honestly, without missing a beat. “But it only lasts a few seconds, and then I rule that it’s all just me, and I’m just one of those people that lacks a moral compass,” he breathed, and weakly tried to laugh. The relieving ice on his eye was beginning to melt, and he could feel the droplets of it on his eyelids.
For a moment, he took off the cold bag and held it over the table, wiping over his eye with the back of his free hand. Then, tiredly he put it back, not really worried about how the bag was only going to get warmer.

Thinking about his life though, it always felt like something about him was wrong. It had to be, considering how his life turned out. Every time he came close to something good, he lost it. Even considering his parentage, he lost his parents not once, but twice. And even though he was occasionally kind out of the purity of his heart, his important choices always favored evil. He liked being a negative person, it was easy, and he never achieved quite as a beautiful a madness as when he hurt others. It was like he was meant for it; a life of darkness.
He could prove it simply by talking about his day.

Renlin asked Vincenzo about his own reason for having a black eye, and he wiped his bloody lip with his thumb. “Well, you know it’s the sleepover, someone has to initiate the new students,” he explained, gesturing a bit with his free hand.

“Because I’m nice, I decided not to pick on the freshmen, instead I went for the older looking guy in the trench coat, he said his name was Nic.”
“I tried explaining the initiation to him, but he kept smirking and trying to mock me when he was obviously on the border of pissing himself. Since he wasn’t taking me seriously, I had to show him why he should,” Vincenzo’s voice changed at the end of his sentence, lightening to a point where he finished it with a shrug. He exhibited no immediate remorse for his actions.

As they were talking, Vincenzo noticed Renlin’s eyes soften while he looked at him with a gaze of admiration, perhaps daydreaming about somewhere else, but he kept talking. “We were talking for a bit, while I was trying to gauge how valuable he could be to the coven, and then he insulted me so I bound him with my shadows. And-“
Vinnie couldn’t finish his sentence when he saw Renlin smile at him kindly. That was when he realized that he was actually looking at him, and not just zoning out.
Vincenzo laughed, looking back at his loving one eye as the other one was covered with that slab of meat. “What are you looking at, dork?” His laughter continued, “You look like a pirate with your left eye covered.”

It was moments like that when he appreciated their friendship the most, when they connected over insignificant conversations. It made him forget a bit about the soreness he felt on his face and body.

But before Vincenzo could return to his story, Renlin stood up and returned to the freezer. Vincenzo huffed our a sigh, not surpised that he was interrupting to get a snack, it was Renlin after all. Luckily for him, however, Renlin chose to bring two very large spoons to eat together, which made Vincenzo forget about his annoyance and focus on the label of the flavors, dropping the bag of frozen peas in front of him on the table because there was something new to focus on. His skin felt like it was quietly resonating.

With a hand gesture only, Vincenzo signaled that Renlin pass him the spatula and the tub, to which he silently agreed as well by passing them. He dug the large spoon-like tool into the tub, and then took a small bite, talking as he chewed. “Anyway, I heard that you have a speech at the masquerade ball? What was that about? I wasn’t there, I left the scene with someone. That in itself is a whole other conversation.” He said, reflecting on the events of last night, not wanting to share too many details.

@Madilnel renlin
Mentioned:
@Caticorn tae
@idiot.exe dom
@Kristi @novella j and a mentioned without names

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jess

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“Far too late for that,” Jesse retaliated regarding letting it get to his head as he tried to read beyond the little Lenore was giving away with her words. While he considered to know the girl reasonably well, both from what he’s seen and what she’s told him, Jesse always kept an eye open for any new information from anyone. Especially on the first day - he needed to get a head-start in any way possible.

He raised an eyebrow, a smile crossing his face at Lenore advising him against his suggestion - at least for this year. “I appreciate the warning, Len, but I think I can handle a few rattled Enigma Stags,” Jesse commented, his hands in his pockets and a small laugh escaping him when he noticed some people around them turning their heads in disdain. “Especially when I have one of them on my side, right?” Jesse teased, a nod in her direction and nudging her arm with his.

The man she mentioned was revealed to go by the name Nic, and Jesse was stumped on who that was. “No last name? A true mystery man,” Jesse humorously stated. “He might be on to something. Maybe I should just go by Jesse from now on, keep everyone wondering, what do you think?” He continued, turning to her, joking over his intrigue into why this Nic person actually withheld such information. “What’s the deal then with him? Interesting as in you’re interested?” He questioned with his eyebrows raised in a teasing manner.

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@Caticorn Lenore!!

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image

⋆⁺。˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚。⁺⋆

Freya watched him take the tissues and attempt to clean himself up. “I see that,” She vaguely replied at his label of ‘a bit of a rough morning’, looking him up and down at the sight that rendered the statement a slight downplay. With that, Freya’s eyes drifted to the people around them that were all headed in the same direction. One thing, she noted, was the girl from last night yet to resurface. She assumed it would be a rough morning for her when she awoke, but she also hoped she would be out of her way by the time Freya returned to her room, as another conversation about the night prior was the last thing she needed.

Expecting an empty space where the tall man had been, Freya was surprised to still see him standing. Even introducing himself, meaning her original plans to walk away had to be postponed. “Freya,” She returned, after a moment of hesitation. There was a moment of silence after her brief response, and she raised her eyebrows in confusion. He lacked the urgency one would usually have when they were bleeding as he was. “Did you need something else?” Freya wondered out loud, not realising that offering tissues would come with the need to converse too.

She unconvincingly nodded her head at Renlin’s further attempt to downplay his injuries. “How brave of you,” She commented, her eyebrows raised with an unmissable tone of indifference in her voice, not giving much thought to what ‘worse’ might have meant for him. His attention was drawn to Freya’s bag, which reverted her gaze down to the same thing. “I think your standards for angels are pretty low,” She responded, before returning to the topic of her bag. “What exactly are you expecting to find in here?”

⋆⁺。˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚。⁺⋆

@Madilnel sorry Renlin

1 Like

frey

⋆⁺。˚⋆˙‧₊☽ clone w/ Thalia ☾₊‧˙⋆˚。⁺⋆

The day had mainly consisted of introduction lessons, breakdowns of how they will be assessed and what it will be on, all things that Freya had familiarised herself with months prior to starting. Though it seemed to act as a favour to those who had gone too hard the night prior, it only posed a colossal waste of time for Freya Hastings. So she sat through the classes frustrated, her mind fixating on the inefficiency of the day. In her attempt to compensate for how unproductive the first half of the day had been, Freya headed for the library the instant the clock hit lunch break. She had already made a list of the essential books she should be headed for, ready to get into what the lessons of the day barely scratched the surface of.

Walking into the library, Freya had to stop in her tracks at the sight before her. She knew it would be big and grand, but being confronted with the sheer magnitude and beauty of the space, this was nothing like what she was expecting. Towering bookshelves, the faint scent of leather bindings, a grand spiral staircase winding its way up to a second level, all lit by the tinted sunlight flooding in through strain-glassed windows. Contrast to the dull morning Freya had endured, she began to feel a surge of excitement and determination.

As Freya was looking around the library, she also couldn’t help but think of her mother. Had she once sat at one of the armchairs under the lamps? Which of the books lining the shelves had she picked up? What kind of things did she learn in here? A bittersweet feeling waved through her, with anticipation in being able to walk where she once did.

Heading for her targeted section, Freya scanned the spines of the books for the desired one. As she began to narrow down the rows even further, she found her eyes going round in circles at the absence of the one she needed. With the presence of the attentive librarian, Freya could assume that it wasn’t a case of her book being in the wrong place, but that it had already been taken. She took a deflated sigh and a step away from the bookshelf, turning for an alternative option.

Though when she turned, her eyes caught a glimpse of the title she had been looking for, in the hands of a girl’s tucked under a sketchbook. It appeared to not be in use at the moment, and so Freya edged closer to the current holder. However as she got nearer to the person, Freya began to recognise who she was about to approach. It seemed the girl from the night before had eventually bounced back, and well too, you would never have been able to detect a hangover from the way she looked.

But before she had the chance to back away and avoid that interaction, it seemed the girl had noticed Freya too. “Uh,” She started in surprise at her sudden approach, leaning on one of the bookshelves in alarm, knocking a few books onto the floor. “Aha, that- I’ll pick them up,” Freya assured, before refocusing onto why she had almost-approached in the first place. “The book, Astral Traveller’s Handbook you have,” She began, stopping as if it were a full request. But then realising she hadn’t actually asked the question part of that. “You don’t seem to be using it… could I borrow it?” She eventually asked.

⋆⁺。˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚。⁺⋆

@Kristi Thalia

1 Like


Where tf are we || with Amani


Arya arched an eyebrow, her demeanor composed yet exuding an aura of confidence. “Simple lust, you say? How disappointingly pedestrian,” she quipped, her tone dripping with sarcasm. She took a step closer, her gaze meeting Amani’s with a hint of challenge. “But who can blame you for seeing things through your own tainted lens?”

With a subtle tilt of her head, Arya continued, her tone light yet pointed. “We’ve all made our fair share of mistakes, haven’t we?” she added with a knowing smirk.As Amani alluded to her supposed illness, Arya’s eyebrow arched in skepticism. “But as for your supposed illness,” she continued, her tone teasing, her voice carrying a note of skepticism. Arya’s lips curled into a knowing smile, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she leaned in slightly. “You’ll have to forgive me,” she continued, her tone layered with sarcasm. "I must have missed the symptoms during your impeccable performance.” With a barely concealed smirk, Arya leaned in closer, her gaze holding Amani’s with unwavering intensity. [color=#5239af] “But who am I to doubt the sincerity of a well-timed cough?” she quipped, her words laden with playful skepticism. “After all, you’ve always had a knack for dramatic flair.”

Arya’s lips curled into a sly smirk as she listened to Amani’s retort, her gaze steady and unyielding. “Ah, history,” she echoed, “Indeed, such a tedious affair. But you know, Amani, history has a way of catching up with us, whether we like it or not.” With a subtle arch of her brow, Arya regarded Amani with an enigmatic smile, her gaze steady despite the undercurrent of tension between them. “After all, what’s the present without the past casting its shadow?”

Arya’s eyes flickered with amusement as Amani’s words danced around the room, like butterflies seeking elusive nectar. With a subtle tilt of her head, Arya met Amani’s gaze, her own smirk mirroring the playful challenge in Amani’s voice. “A clever disguise indeed, masking truths with the allure of fiction. But aren’t we all performers on this stage of life, Amani? A little charm here, a touch of wit there—merely tools in our arsenal of illusion." With a relaxed grace, Arya gestured toward the poetry, her smirk deepening. “Sentiment, after all, is but a shadow cast by the light of experience. And what is poetry, if not the art of capturing those fleeting shadows?” Her words hung in the air, a subtle challenge veiled behind a veneer of eloquence.

Arya tilted her head slightly, her expression unreadable as Amani leaned in to inspect the poem. She remained silent, allowing the words to linger in the air, knowing Amani’s response would be anything but mundane. When Amani scoffed, Arya’s lips curved into a subtle smirk, a glint of amusement dancing in her eyes. “Hm, so the icy exterior remains intact,” she remarked, her tone carrying a playful yet cutting edge. “but you know what they say, Amani dear, even the coldest hearts can be warmed by the right kind of poetry.”

With a subtle raise of her brow, Arya met Amani’s gaze with an enigmatic smirk playing on her lips. “who said anything about romance?” Her words danced with a coy elegance, a subtle reminder of her own complex nature. “Poetry is not just for the hopeless romantics,” Arya continued, her voice smooth and composed. “It’s a canvas for the soul, a tapestry woven with the threads of human experience.” She paused, her eyes glinting with a hint of amusement. “But I suppose you wouldn’t understand that, perhaps your definition of ‘all that we need’ differs from mine,” she continued, her words carrying a subtle edge of defiance. “Though who’s to say that what one possesses is truly everything they desire? Sometimes, the allure lies in the pursuit, not the attainment, wouldn’t you agree?" A subtle smirk played at the corners of her lips as she contemplated the nuances of her own artistry. Inwardly, Arya mused on the distinction between being a poet and a hopeless romantic. While her craft often delved into the depths of emotion, it was rooted in introspection and observation rather than blind idealism.

Arya watched in fascination as Amani approached the mysterious mirror, her curiosity piqued by the otherworldly glow that emanated from its surface. There was an air of caution in Amani’s movements, a hesitance that Arya found both intriguing and unnerving. As Amani’s fingertips made contact with the enigmatic surface of the mirror, Arya held her breath, anticipation coiling in the pit of her stomach like a dormant serpent. She couldn’t shake the feeling of unease that lingered in the air, a sense that they were being watched.
The mirror shattered with a deafening crack, sending a cascade of shards raining down upon the floor. Arya’s eyes widened in disbelief, her mind struggling to comprehend the abrupt destruction of the mirror before them.
As Amani’s fingers brushed against the broken shard, the world around them seemed to warp and twist, reality bending and twisting like a mirage in the desert. Arya’s gaze remained fixed on the shattered mirror, her mind racing to make sense of the sudden chaos that had unfolded before them. She could feel Amani’s eyes on her, a silent exchange of uncertainty passing between them as they both grappled with the unsettling reality of their situation.
When Amani attempted to reassure herself by checking if Arya was real, Arya couldn’t help but feel a pang of sympathy for her distress. “Well, I hate to disappoint you, but I’m very much real,” Arya replied with a wry smile, though the gravity of their situation wasn’t lost on her.
Amani’s shaky declaration only confirmed Arya’s suspicions. The mirror of nightmares a fitting name for the hellish landscape that surrounded them. In the dim light, Arya could make out the contours of twisted shadows and grotesque figures that lurked in the darkness. This was no ordinary illusion—it was a sinister trap designed to prey on their deepest insecurities. For a moment, Arya was frozen, her thoughts whirling in a vortex of fear and uncertainty. But as Amani’s gaze met hers, Arya realized that they were not alone in this nightmare. Despite their differences, despite the years of animosity that had festered between them, they were in this together. And if they wanted to escape the clutches of their darkest fears, they would need to rely on each other. With a nod, Arya squared her shoulders, her gaze unwavering as she met Amani’s gaze. “You’re right,” she agreed, her voice steady despite the turmoil raging within her. “We need to find a way out of here, and fast.”


@Kristi

2 Likes

Copy of Copy of Copy of Silas

[𓆩[⟡𓆪 𓆩⟡𓆪 𓆩⟡]

Clone

Thalia watched as the girl, with an inadvertent sweep of her hand, sent a large mount of books tumbling to the floor. The sudden clatter pierced the quiet of the library, and for a moment, Thalia’s unease dissipated. The girl stumbled back, her reaction as if she had just seen a ghost, leaving Thalia to ponder two unsettling thoughts: first, the girl unmistakably recognized her, and second, she also clearly wished to avoid any interaction.

Damn, Thalia mused, was my intoxication, that bad? A flush of embarrassment crept up her neck, spreading to her cheeks. She struggled to recollect the peculiarities of her inebriated antics, replaying the fragmented memories in a bid to assess the extent of her intoxication. Snippets of laughter, a slurred conversation, perhaps a stumble or two—nothing conclusive, yet sufficient to evoke an inward cringe.

A flush of embarrassment crept up her neck and spread to her cheeks. She tried to search her mind for the weird stuff she did while drunk, replaying the hazy memories in an attempt to gauge how bad it was. Snippets of laughter, a slurred conversation, maybe a stumble or two—nothing concrete, but enough to make her wince inwardly.

“Aha, that-I’ll pick them up” The girl started as she had accidentally knocked a few books unto the floor. Without really thinking, Thalia found herself standing up, moving swiftly to help.

“Don’t worry about it,” Thalia replied, her voice composed and cool. “We all make mistakes,” Though Thalia had said this, regarding the books mishap, she had actually met this in reference to, well, last night. See, by presenting this version of herself-her more sober, more normal (ish) and collected self—she aimed to sweep away any traces of her previous night’s behavior, moments like randomly talking about the weather or the picture or whatever she had talked about last night.

It was a good thing, Thalia thought, that her camera was tucked deep inside her bag right now. It would be quite awkward to have had it out on the table in front of her. As Thalia had slipped back into her chair, placing her sketchbook inside her bag, she had left the book, Astral Traveler’s out in the open. Causing the girl to say, "The book, Astral Traveller’s Handbook you have,” Thalia had immediately looked down at the book, scrunching her brows as she read the title, Astral’s travellers Handbook. She had looked back at the pretty dark haired girl, arching a brow, was she going to ask to use it? ’ “You don’t seem to be using it… could I borrow it?” Ding ding, seems she is and Thalia was ready to give the book to her, because after all, she did not need the book, and it was a good way to avoid further interactions with her, and perhaps Thalia could focus her attention doing something else- like continuing her sketch, looking at her other pictures and perhaps printing them and putting them inside her folder and analyzing them later today-putting the puzzle pieces where they are needed. She could also avoid the girl for the rest of the school year, because after all, the girl does not seem like she would try to talk to her, and Thalia was pretty good at ghosting people, but for some reason just as Thalia carried the book, about to give it to her, she had retracted, dropping the book back down on the table.

Even without knowing her name, there was something Thalia knew about the girl for sure, and that was that she did not have any special connection to ‘Folder Red’ and ‘Folder Blue’ as Thalia liked to refer to them as, but still- there was just something about the girl that drew Thalia in. Perhaps, it was the same thing that had caused Thalia to take a picture of her last night, whatever that thing was.

"“I was just about to use it to study,” Thalia lied smoothly,. “I have a test coming up soon, and I wanted to get a head start on the studying." Another lie. Thalia had never liked the idea of getting a head start on the studying, it always made it easier to forget information, especially considering she led a busy life. In addition, Thalia did not have any test that she knew of concerning the Astral Traveller’s , heck, she didn’t even know what it was about. “But…” Thalia began, “If you really want it, we could share.” Thalia paused, her words hanging in the air as she gauged the girl’s reaction.


@novella

1 Like

Mona timeeee. Pretties later

“I know you do,” Thalia smiled as Desdemona swung their hands forward and back, “But really, you also have to take care of your own self. And besides, really, I’m okay, I can handle my own self, today was Just a little rough morning, that’s all.” Now, Thalia wasn’t too sure of the ‘i can handle my own self’ part, but maybe if she could convince herself and Desdemona enough, it will come true.

It was rather sweet the way that Thalia concerned for Desdemona. She did not find her obsessive or intoxicatingly close, but instead thought of her as being considerate. How peculiar that was.

For someone who desired to resist the assistance of others, Thalia behaved quite uniquely. If she were a lesser woman, perhaps she might view Desdemona as annoying, or a loser. What kind of college girl had only one friend? And only one friend that was her whole world at that. From that angle she could almost look pathetic; like a meek, and easy target to be manipulated and told what to do and think, someone who would be no one without her. But instead, Thalia did find affection in her presence. Perhaps it was because Desdemona was beautiful, so her attempts were well-received by superficiality, if not lust. Or perhaps… contrary to her own thoughts, she was not so opposed to receiving guidance.

Desdémona said nothing in response to Thalias ongoing argument, choosing to quietly nod instead, a small smile clad by her lips. If the girl would not surrender, then Desdémona determined that it was best if she did. Maybe she would recycle that philosophy when she felt unimportant again.

Without hesitation, she answered all of Thalias questions.
“I think… if it wasn’t an accident, then someone was probably trying to hurt her. I just don’t know why they would do that. She seemed really nice.” Mona said with somber innocence laced into her words.
“I can’t remember the rest of the story Atlas told me, but I think he said something about another man….” She thought aloud, “but like you said, it probably wasn’t true, so maybe we shouldn’t focus on that.”

Although Desdémona had been in her element earlier into their conversation, she felt like that spark lit in her mind had died down since the change of topic. Outside of her circle, she tended to be quite clueless. In her active thoughts, she was very insightful. While the couple had been dancing, she saw the man in the corner of the room watching them. She had noticed his overgrown, short brown hair, and the mark he had near his lip. She watched Esther run away after waking up, she had seen the farcical smirk that Atlas wore. And Desdémona could remember traces of it, but she found herself completely unable to articulate them, like her mouth had turned to idle wood incapable of creating sound. Before she could repeat them, all of her thoughts liked to betray her by disintegrating to nothing. It was one of the things she admired about Thalia, how she could have so many thoughts and remember all of them. She wondered if that was on purpose, too, but she hadn’t the ability to say it. There were runes written on the walls of her mind that she was never meant to translate, even if she held a candle to them and put forth her best effort.

She apologized for asking questions, but Desdémona paid no mind to it. She had not been fazed by any of them, and, on the contrary, was happy to answer each one for her. “What do you mean?” She asked curiously, confused as to why she was apologizing. “I don’t mind.”

”Think of super man,” said Thalia, and Desdémona giggled, her chocolate colored eyes brightening. The comparison she used sounded at first like she was trying to be very gentle with a way for Desdémona to understand her. It was kind of cute.

As she kept talking, though, the analogy began to make more sense. “I guess that’s true,” she concurred. “I did feel very different in my masquerade outfit,” she agreed, thinking that the dress had made her act more mature and different than usual, when she had still been the same old Mona.

Although Desdémona had decided to be the merciful one before, Thalia had agreed this time, stating that she could not blame the man either. Desdémona nodded at that, grateful for her reciprocity of her gentle approach. What she did not acknowledge was the possible way that Thalia could be a liar like her, as well. It was the pinnacle of their experience as Ciphers, how they existed to, with their magic, turn life into words. Yet half of their words were lies, with only their mischevious demeanor to blame, the evil within them begging to hide the truth because it was often too painful to bring to life. Likely, their lies were what kept them weak, denying the power of their truths for the comfort of lies, perhaps that was why Hayes’ friend was targeted by whatever force took him. He was too powerful. Too honest.

Desdémona did not say it out loud, but she knew internally that Thalia was loyal to sneaky behavior. It was why she knew she had to look after her, she was lost. Only time would tell though, if Desdémona had the strength to find her in the sandstorms she got herself into.

She noticed it when Thalia got out her phone, using that bit of knowledge she had for Thalia only to piece together what she was most likely annotating. She had let go of Desdemona’s hands to do it, which made the girl feel a bit embarassed. Of course she didn’t matter as much as Thalia’s conspiracies, she was stupid.

Of course, she decided to make no explicit comment about her gesture. She didn’t want to stir the girl, so she just watched her put the phone down and put it back where it was.
“If it helps, I don’t think Atlas did anything sinister. Maybe he was kind of dramatic, but I knew I felt a bad energy from something, I did, and I know it wasn’t him,” she said, trying to defend this new stranger because like Thalia thought, she did consider them friends, and Desdémona was very faithful to hers.

After pushing her away, Desdemona snapped back to reality, a wave of guilt crashing over her when she realized what she had done. She expected some sort of punishment to hit her, maybe not from Thalia, but she was explicitly raised to act gracefully at all times. And that was not graceful. If Mom and Dad had seen her do that, they would have been very angry with her.
To her surprise, however, Thalia was very gentle about it, agreeing to abide by her wishes. She sighed a breath of relief, realizing that it was Thalia she was speaking to, and Thalia wouldn’t hurt her. She was a friend, she had a friend when she was with Thalia. She looked at her with a smile, and remnants of fear in her light brown eyes.

She also realized that Thalia wanted to know the truth, but Desdémona knew she couldn’t. It was a secret, so she pursed her lips, coming up with something close to the truth. “I just- I don’t like adults,” that was true. “I only like mom and dad,” lie. But they were connected to the truth, so she deemed her explanation good enough to leave that way.


Laying on her bed, Desdemona turned her head to see Thalia lying beside her with playful eyes, “No,” she said , and for a moment, Desdemona was worried by her statement, due to her inability to detect standard sarcasm. But quickly, she took her sentence back, and Desdemona’s lips melted into a genuine smile again, like Rapunzel watching lanterns rise into the night sky as a little girl. That smile, but with a hint of when your dog licks the side of your face, but you call it a kiss because you are just that affectionate with your animal.

She rolled once over to get closer to her on the bed, sweetened by her loving words, and turned onto her side, wrapping her arm around Thalia’s torso with a very deliberate movement. She placed her chin on the girls’ shoulder, and lowered her forehead into the slope of her neck, ignorant to the images that she clicked through on the device. Softly, she suspired onto her shoulder. It was just something she did when she really loved the person she was embracing.

“Alright, let’s take a little journey through Wyndham together,” she said, her tone light and playful.

Desdémona angled her chin back up, but still didn’t take herself off of Thalia. The top of her head met the hybrid space shared by her brown hair and her right ear, watching the slideshow of pictures play. They were each special in different ways, capturing the feelings that Thalia had and Desdémona craved to understand. They saw the garden, the students, and the architecture of Wyndham without even having to leave her bed. How beautiful it was to spectate, and see without being perceived.

“Here,” Thalia said, pausing on a particularly scenic shot of the sunset painting the sky in hues of pink and gold, “is where we’ll make countless memories together.” Desdemona laughed, enchanted by the pieces of herself that Thalia had showed her, and then her expression sobered, knowing that Thalia expected more of a response from her.

She backed up a bit, and then cupped Thalia’s cheek, similar to the way that the girl had touched her earlier, and then turned her face around so that she was looking at her. A smile cracked on her lips when they saw each other. “I can’t wait.”

@Kristi

2 Likes

Renlin sort of missed summer. He missed the lake, his boat, and the effect the water had on him. The endless days spent basking in the sun and the serene mornings out on the dock. He missed it all. Though he enjoyed the company he found here at school, aside from Dante spending the summer with them, he liked being surrounded by people. The bustling energy of others was something he thrived on. He missed the casual gatherings, the impromptu parties, and even the simple joy of seeing familiar faces every day.

Here with Vinnie was nice. Though, the kitchen wasn’t really his first choice, and he was also surprised there were no cooks coming in and yelling at them for eating this ice cream. It felt like a small rebellion, sitting in there and talking as if they owned the place. The peacefulness of this moment contrasted sharply with the chaos of earlier, and Renlin found comfort in it. He glanced at Vinnie, grateful for his friend’s presence. The worries and tension from the fight seemed to melt away with each spoonful of ice cream.

He wished he could mix the two places. He wished there was a lake here as well. He had found some ponds during a night or two out, but nothing large. They usually were filled with moss and not swimmable. All but one. The one next to the abandoned hotel that he had found a few years ago. That spot had become his secret, a place where he could escape and pretend he was back on the lake, if only for a moment. It wasn’t the same.

He had painted his initials there with his symbol on a tree. It was a habit of his, marking all the places he discovered with a little piece of himself. If anyone else ever found these hidden spots, they’d know they weren’t alone. It was a silent connection, a message to the unknown wanderers who might stumble upon his marks. This particular place, with its serene pond and abandoned hotel, was special. His initials and symbol felt like a secret signature, a way to leave a bit of his soul in his favorite hidden sanctuary.

His soul now felt very torn apart, frayed at the edges. It wasn’t his usual self. The dreams were so vivid, so real, they seemed to be chipping away pieces of him. He used to be able to just forget, to brush off the lingering shadows of sleep, but not anymore. Now, it almost felt like he was going crazy. Crazy wasn’t inherently bad, right? There was a certain appeal to madness, a freedom in it. But he didn’t want to be crazy. He had reasons to stay grounded, reasons to keep it together. There were people who depended on him, people he cared about deeply. Inessa, Vinnie, the Umbra brothers, a few others….they needed him sane, strong, reliable. He couldn’t afford to lose himself to these dreams, no matter how tempting it was to let go.

Sometimes he didn’t want to wake himself. He wanted to know more, to see more. The dreams held fragments of something larger, something important. It wasn’t just for him, but for those people in his life as well. He wanted answers, clarity—for Inessa, for Vinnie, for all the Umbra brothers and for others. If the dreams were trying to tell him something, he had to understand it. He owed them that much.

“How’s he doing right now?” Vinnie asked about Tae.

Renlin shook his head. He hadn’t stuck around to find out, and he hadn’t checked his phone either. It was probably blowing up with messages and missed calls. He ran his fingers through his hair, feeling the weight of the fight. Tae was probably in bad shape, but Renlin didn’t feel much better himself.

He looked at his fingers for a little bit, the slight tremble in them betraying his inner turmoil. Vinnie moved on, recounting his own altercation, his words a comforting distraction from Renlin’s thoughts. Renlin appreciated the distraction, but he couldn’t help but think about what his sister would say when she found out.

“Someone has to initiate the new students,” Vinnie began, his voice carrying a weight of responsibility. Renlin nodded in agreement, his mind drifting to their own initiation into Umbra. It was more than just physical tests; it was about deciphering codes, demonstrating stamina, and proving one’s dedication to the cause. This year’s initiation seemed to hold a different significance, one that Renlin couldn’t quite grasp yet. Toughness? Alpha male energy?

Ren couldn’t help raise a brow at the mention of the person wearing a trench coat, and although he found it peculiar to wear a trench coat, he kept his thoughts to himself. After all, he was well aware that his own sense of style might be considered questionable by others.

Renlin chuckled and shook his head in response to Vinnie’s explanation. While it wasn’t his preferred method of asserting dominance, he respected Vinnie’s approach, recognizing that everyone had their own way of handling situations. “And do you think he got the point in the end?” Renlin asked, curious about the outcome.

Renlin raised an eyebrow at Vinnie’s mention of using his shadows. “And where is he now? Hiding under his bed from you? Transferring to a different school? Or perhaps he’s plotting his grand return to the common room for round 2?” he quipped, adding a playful tone to the speculation.

“Well, you know what they say, Vinnie,” Renlin quipped with a smirk. “Behind every dork is a loyal friend keeping them in check. Consider yourself lucky.”
Renlin laughed at Vinnie’s remark. “Hey, at least I’d make a pretty cool pirate, right?” he joked, adjusting the makeshift ice pack on his face.

“Yeah, about that…” Renlin hesitated, not sure how much he wanted to reveal, especially of what happened after. “Let’s just say I had a moment of inspiration, or maybe insanity, depending on who you ask. But it got people talking, right?”

Renlin leaned in closer, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Oh, come on, Vinnie. Don’t leave me hanging. You know I live for this stuff.” He nudged his friend playfully, eager to hear the juicy details without missing a beat. The thought of Vinnie getting into some escapade at the ball was just the distraction he needed from his own drama. Plus, there was always something intriguing about Vinnie’s exploits. They never failed to entertain or surprise.

Renlin couldn’t help but feel a surge of curiosity as he leaned closer to Vinnie, his interest piqued by the mention of a departure from the ball. “Seriously, spill the beans, Vinnie. I need all the details,” he urged, his tone a mix of excitement and anticipation. After all, what were friends for if not to share every scandalous detail of their escapades?

@raviola

3 Likes

Vincenzo might be a bit sad but he’s sad rn :confounded:

Renlin shook his head, causing Vincenzo to close his mouth not to sigh, the air coming out through his nose. It was quite hypocritical of Vincenzo to be disappointed in Renlin, considering what he had just done himself, but he could not put his displeasure about the Duman fight to rest, not so easily.

“You don’t know?”
His disbelief was audible.

In reality, it upset him because he was a bit selfish. Nic’a injuries didn’t matter much to him because he was a newcomer, and even though Tae was likely recovering much quicker than the man formidably defeated to the point where there was blood in his throat, Vincenzo refused to revisit the topic in any detail that was more vivid than necessary. He had already had his outburst, and called himself a monster with the same hands he always used to ruin things, and the same voice he let himself go without. To talk about it again would no longer even have the potential to anger him that way, it would just leave a bitter, bloody taste in his mouth. Ironic how he avoided that.

Tae Seo, as Renlin called him, mattered a bit more because he was a brother, actual family aside, and he had earned his place in the house. He had been initiated, too, so Vincenzo felt like it was something like his responsibility to make sure that they were all treated equally.

In the dorms, when Vincenzo got close to Nic, the boys that stood by his side most likely seemed like two buffoons who worship whoever they deem best fit for it, no sense of individuality. In Vincenzo’s eyes, however, it was more complicated than that. He was not some brooding leader, because at the end of the day, the brotherhood that he extended to Renlin was something he tried to offer the other guys at Umbra as well, sitting with them when they were bruised, even if they said nothing. His goal was always to create that sense of family, to feel like there would be people by his side too. He needed it, if he was going to be in the same place as Jesse. That was another reason why he was so territorial. In his eyes, the boys had to spend one day as the enemy, as a reminder not to become one. The question he had been needing to ask himself as of recently was whether or not it was an oath or a threat. Can the whole group really be happy if they leave all of their debts to one person? Or does the guilt make them all weaker?

But he couldn’t say that, his tongue was tied, so he settled on something more digestible for the both of them, even if it omitted the whole truth.
“You know I’m on your side, Ren, I’m just a hypocrite.”
By reassuring the man, he believed they might have secured the surfacing of a new topic to discuss, even if he had to give the vaguest possible summary of the initiation.

As expected, Renlin did not question Vincenzo in the slightest. If he thought himself to be well-oriented with loyalty, he outdid the man tenfold. The difference between them was that in spite of the thoughts that chewed on his flesh, Vincenzo chose to be loyal. Renlin, he didn’t have to choose, every word he said, he believed it. It was one of the reasons they were friends. Vincenzo desired terribly to have the spirit that he did, so if he could not emulate it, then he kept it close by himself.

“Yeah, I think he got the point in the end,” he responded, clenching his jaw a bit as he stretched his legs under the table, and put down the hand with the ice pack. He needed to pause from it. “And I got the blood I wanted.”

He turned to the man, and looked at him with a semblance of the attitude that the man had toward him. He did not smile, and his purple-circled eyes were a bit darker than they had been when they first saw each other, but the message they conveyed was just as pure, like the depths of the ocean. At this hour, the glaciers in his stare were easier to transcend, sinking the person who met his gaze into something real instead of taking them higher. It was not what Renlin had given him, but an adjacent translation.

He quipped, and Vincenzo laughed, albeit dryly, and reclined to put the ice pack back on his face before he continued. “I don’t know, Ren,” but the real answer was probably the nurse’s office.

Renlin kept speaking with his same lighthearted tone, and Vincenzo chuckled, his small laugh erupting into an actual one when he replied to his pirate comment. “Sure you would.”
And in that moment he did feel a bit better. It was easier to do that with Renlin around to make jokes.

“Yeah, about that…” Renlin hesitated, not sure how much he wanted to reveal, especially of what happened after. “Let’s just say I had a moment of inspiration, or maybe insanity, depending on who you ask. But it got people talking, right?”

On the subject of control, he surprised Vincenzo by making a joke out of the situation, causing him to raise a brow. It was not what he would have done.
“Are you sure you’re alright, though?” He asked with a concerned tone. He understood that people sometimes tended to downplay their own issues, so it was his job as a friend to discourage Ren from reducing himself that way.

The boy teased him with a push to share more about what had happened the previous night, and Vincenzo pursed his lips, swallowing. “I… slept with someone,” he had paused, searching for a way to phrase it. “Someone you know.”

But before he could go on, Vincenzo widened his sore eyes, realizing the implication that Renlin might interpret from him. “Not arya. We both know what happened with Arya.” He paused again, remembering the event and trying not to let a sour expression conquer him. “And… someone walked in. Also someone you know, but to avoid any issues, I actually can’t tell you this one.” He said, maturely deciding to omit Jesse’s name. It was their one disagreement, and Vincenzo intended to keep it that way, they did not need any more. It was simply something that he decided to put up with for Renlin’s sake, no need to anger him with the news of revenge, which would certainly happen if either of them kept pushing the conversation.

@Madilnel Renlinnnnnn

Mentioned (basically the whole umbra coven)
@Caticorn tae
@idiot.exe nic
@novella jesse
@kristi amani namelessly
@CerealKiller arya for one joke
And chad and brad ofc

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Atlas Theodore Alstone

⊱—⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅—⋅༻༺⋅—⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅—⊰

Clone — bonfire, at night — with Lyra

⊱—⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅—⋅༻༺⋅—⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅—⊰

Atlas had guessed correctly, that she was indeed a new student. It was rare for him to make a mistake in his judgement, especially concerning the members of his group. In a way, he considered himself the leader. Even if no one had officially elected him, he was always the one looking out for everyone, new or old, ensuring they felt comfortable enough to never want to leave. Ever.

“Welcome to Wyndham College, then. I’m Atlas,” he responded, matching her smile. As she asked whether they were in the same house, he couldn’t help but chuckle. “I wonder what gave it away,” he joked, the fire dancing in the palm of his hand. It cast a warm glow on his face, making it apparent how his expression softened as they continued to talk. “I’m glad you’ve decided to join us at Enigma Stag. I promise, you won’t regret it.”

As he presented his illusion, he found himself watching closely for her reaction. Regardless of how good he considered himself, he’d always look toward the audience, at times his friends, wondering just how much he’d managed to impress them. Their reactions, the awe in their eyes as they watched, it made it worth to even try. As he glanced at the girl he noticed how her voice reflected her admiration, and the way her eyes flickered in wonder. There were always people better than him, ones he could never surpass, but at times like this he just felt good enough. His lips curved into a small smile, even though he’d tried to suppress it.

“I’ve always been drawn to illusions myself,” he continued speaking with his usual tone, masking his excitement. “I don’t know what it is about them, perhaps the versatility, how you can manifest anything you imagine. And if you’ve mastered them like I have, there’s no limit to your abilities.”

He waited as she scrambled to replace the marshmallow on her stick, eager to try the fire. Atlas couldn’t help but chuckle again, offering his palm towards her. “There’s no need to rush, I can hold this all night,” he assured, partly to make her more comfortable and partly to show off.

The girl leaned closer, lifting the stick over the illusion. Atlas focused his energy towards the palm of his hand, extending it through the fire to reach the snack buried in its flames. But to his confusion, the girl stopped in her tracks. He lowered his palm, furrowing his brows. As she reached towards her cheek, she removed what seemed to be a leftover piece from the treat. At that moment Atlas realized what had happened. He’d been so focused on the fire, he’d completely missed such an insignificant detail.

Insignificant to him, yet her cheeks flushed red and she began to giggle nervously, clearly embarassed. Atlas’ smile softened, “Ah, I haven’t noticed, to be honest,” he reassured her, his tone gentle. Regardless, he was glad she was excited for his trick, even though he barely showed it on the surface. “Don’t worry, you’re fine. I think I got a little carried away as well,” he admitted with a laugh, lifting his palm back up.

She lowered the marshmallow over the fire again, properly this time, and it was time to begin. What made this little flame differ from the bonfire in front, was that it was a simple illusion. If she leaned closer, she’d notice the lack of heat emanating from it’s surface and how touching it leaves no effect; but few would be bold enough to try. Still, Atlas had a way of making it appear real, something she’d discover soon enough.

Atlas’ eyes locked on the flames, his eyes flickering in concentration. He let the energy flow through the fire once more, hidden beneath its glow and dancing flames. They acted as an extension of his body, allowing him to transfer his illusions even through objects he wasn’t directly touching. As it coursed through the marshmallow, it began to affect its appearance. A golden brown layer coated its surface, perfectly covering every inch. It was a feat impossible to achieve through a regular fire, because there would always be a corner that’s uneven or slightly burnt. Atlas refused to allow such flaws.

After a while, he looked up into her eyes, breaking the silence. “It should be finished now.”

But though it had the perfect appearance, one bite would prove the girl otherwise — that it was only an illusion. In reality the structure of the snack hadn’t changed a bit.

⊱—⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅—⋅༻༺⋅—⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅—⊰

@Jass Lyra Elysa Skylark

orp

Sorry it took so long :sob: I’m back noww

⊱—⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅—⋅༻༺⋅—⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅—⊰


★´∀`★★´∀`★★´∀`★★´∀`★★´∀`★★´∀`★★´∀`★

★´∀`★★´∀`★★´∀`★★´∀`★★´∀`★★´∀`★★´∀`★


“Ah, so you’re the resident doomsday expert, huh?” Ayla smirked, “some would say so.” She crossed her arms, impressed. “Well, lucky for me, I’ve been brushing up on my end-of-the-world survival skills. Can’t have you stealing all the spotlight when the zombies come knocking.” Ayla smiled, tilting her head. “Who said anything about zombies?” Ayla teased.

Wouldn’t want to spend eternity bickering over who gets the last cup of coffee.” Ayla scoffed, and dramatically put her hand over her heart. “Don’t we know who gets it, though?” She winked at Dante, taking a sip of her own cup.


Dante met her level gaze with a seemingly knowing smile, and on the outside, Ayla presented a bright and welcoming smile herself. But he didn’t know her, and she knew he probably never would. “Fair enough,” Dante replied, his tone playful yet sincere. “But you’ve got to admit, there’s always more to a person than meets the eye. Coffee and sarcasm might be your go-to, but I’ve got a feeling there’s a whole lot more simmering beneath the surface.”

“Oh, I’m sure you’re right,” she said, her tone light and airy. “Sometimes it’s better to keep the good stuff hidden away. But that’s what makes life so interesting, don’t you think? The mystery, the unknown?” She teased his imagination, her voice going low and smooth. “You’ve piqued my interest, Ayla.” Great. Ayla leaned back, finding something to lean on. Not for long. she wanted to sing song, but instead went with, “you with mine.”


“Can’t have you shaking with boredom now, can we?” He took a playful sip of his own coffee And Ayla watched enthusiastically. Ayla’s eyebrow arched higher, her expression skeptical. "I’m not sure what’s more impressive, the fact that you’re trying to impress me or the fact that your willing to step of your game.”

“… predictability can be just what we need to shake things up.” Ayla’s gaze lingered on Dante’s face, her expression unreadable. She didn’t buy the whole “clichés are comfortable” line, not entirely. “I suppose you’re right,” she said finally, her voice measured. "But only up to a point. Clichés are comfortable, yes, but they’re also safe. And I’m not exactly looking for safe.” She tested the waters.


“You ever find yourself craving a different kind of thrill?” he asked, his tone laced with anticipation. “Like the rush of the wind as you leap from one rooftop to another, or the adrenaline that comes from discovering a hidden passage in the heart of the city?”

[color=#94add7]“Fine. Give it here,”[/center] she held her hand out, fingers curling in a ‘give it here’ motion. “Your phone, I’m going to need your number.” She said with a rough smile, looking in his eyes.



@Jass | Dante

1 Like

Copy of Copy of Silas (1)

[[[Musica ౨ৎ])]

Amani’s eyes danced with unspoken tales, a soft chuckle escaping her lips. “Pedestrian?” she echoed, the word rolling off her tongue with a touch of amusement. “My my, don’t tell me you were in love with them both-” she couldn’t resist a chuckle, “Please tell me you were simply using them for some game of yours, because if it was truly love and not lust, then you’re more foolish than I thought.” Amani gave a menacing smile. “And I quite prefer my tainted lenses, as you call it, keeps me far away from the life you have.”

She listened to Arya talk her tone light yet pointed as she voiced her words, 'Well, mine haven’t been too bad," Amani retorted when Arya had agreed with Amani’s notion that they all had their fair of mistakes. She listened as Arya went on to talk about Amani’s fake sickness and she had fought a smile when Arya spoke about her knack for dramatic flair. “Do I?” She hummed as if contemplating Arya’s words, a wry smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “Well, perhaps you have a point there,” Amani conceded, her tone tinged with amusement. “After all, what’s life without a little drama? But of course too much dramatic fair gets exhausting overtime, right?” For example, take the Enigma house, her least favorite by a far, though she couldn’t say she did not find the house entertaining.

“I suppose history does,” Amani responded, looking everywhere but at Arya, “But I prefer to think of us not as fugitives from our past, but as architects of our future. We are not defined by the shadows we cast, but by the light we choose to follow.” Amani certainly hoped that was true, “The present, someone once told me.” Amani turned to face Arya, “Is not a mere consequence of the past; it is an opportunity, a canvas awaiting new strokes and besides, I think I am stealthy and fast enough to outrun my shoulder, though it might seem impossible.” And perhaps, indeed it will prove to be impossible, but sometimes living in fantasies was better than realities, no? Well, Amani thought so as of right now.

“I suppose we are all performers on this stage of life, as after all existing in this society Is simply also a perfomance” Amani had to agree, as she listened to Arya’s witty words, BUT- Amani eyes flickered to the poetry hanging on the walls, "The act of sentiment sometimes gets boring does it not? It almost feels like begging to be pitied, how unfortunately pathetic it can be, " But she supposed that pathetic nonsense is what made poetry so good, though she was not going to say that.

When Arya had broken the silence that passed between them, Amani had scoffed at the remark Arya had uttered, as if it was something unfathomably absurd. “Then i suppose your poetry is not the right kind of poetry.” Amani had muttered with a teasing smile.

Poetry is not just for the hopeless romantics Arya said and well, Amani had to agree- it was not. All that Arya was saying was indeed what some people might say to be correct and Amani could not find a way to disagree with her words, so she had just shrugged, “Maybe,” She replied, her tone lacking it’s usual tone because indeed Amani did not possess all that she truly desired- perhaps she would never have and she will find a way to be satisfied
in that.


Amani have done this so many times- come to this place to admire the illusions that existed here and to relax- it was often quiet inside each of the many doors of the botanic conservatory because no body really knew about them. Room 4- the room with the many mirrors was part of the rooms she tended to visit the most and she had tried every mirror- well, almost every mirror, she had thought because when the mirror had shattered and transported them into an illusion, Amani couldn’t tell at first where she was until she realized she needed to leave here, but first-

I was hoping you were an illusion Amani had told Arya, her tone strange as she said this.

"“Well, I hate to disappoint you, but I’m very much real’ Arya had replied with a wry smile, but Amani had simply given her a funny look.

“It is indeed a disappointment,” Her tone did not hold any malice as she said this, it was more of a ‘matter of the fact’ type of tone, “Our visions are not supposed to be intertwined,” She explained, “It’s-” Amani paused, before declaring that they needed to get out of here, expanding on that by telling Arya that the mirror was not like other mirrors. She was going to say more, she would have perhaps if she had not seen it- a flicker of movement, a shape looming in the shadows. Amani’s breath caught in her throat as she beheld the vision before her, her blood turning to ice in her veins.

The room around them seemed to darken, shadows creeping in from the edges of their vision, a reminder of the otherworldly danger they were now facing.

Just as Arya finished speaking, a sudden movement caught Amani’s eye. She barely had time to react before a monstrous, shadowy figure began to emerge from the darkness, its form grotesque and twisted. Panic surged through her, but she forced herself to stay calm.

“Run!” she hissed, grabbing Arya’s arm and pulling her away from the approaching horror. They sprinted through the dimly lit space, their footsteps echoing off the walls, the sound of their breathing ragged and desperate. Amani’s mind raced, trying to remember the spell that could get them out of this nightmare. Latin and French phrases swirled in her thoughts, a mix of ancient words that held the key to their escape.

They ducked into a hidden alcove, the walls providing a temporary refuge from the pursuing creature. Amani’s hands trembled as she began to recite the spell, her voice a strained whisper. "] “Lux lucis… porte ouvrir… salvare nos…” She closed her eyes as her voice got even lower as she recited the rest, but no door formed, instead a piece of paper, written how to escape appeared. It was a riddle, of course it was a riddle! It just had to be, and the riddle went:

"Through shadow and light, where fears take flight,
Seek the door that hides in plain sight.
In a room of mirrors, not all reflect,
Find the one that your gaze must direct.

When numbers and words play a cryptic dance,
It’s the truth in the lies that gives you a chance.
Seek the phrase that sounds like a song,
It will guide you right where you belong.

Look for the glass that is more than it seems,
It holds the key to your wildest dreams.
With courage and trust, you’ll unlock the way,
And escape the night, to welcome the day."**

Amani read it loud, “Do you see any glass around here?” Amani asked, as as she heard a roar- the monster approaching. Perhaps she could use her pet? Would that work inside this illusion.


@CerealKiller

2 Likes

Copy of Copy of Copy of Silas

𓆩[⟡𓆪 𓆩⟡𓆪 𓆩⟡]

Esther Ruth Dubois, age twenty-two, with a delicate scar that curved along the side of her neck—a scar one would only notice if they were to scrutinize her with intent. Esther, who often took long, solitary walks around the building, carried with her an air of fragility. From what Thalia had gathered through the fragmented conversations they’d shared, Esther was an accomplished skater, graceful on the ice despite her otherwise sickly demeanor.

These were mere fragments of Esther’s life, gleaned through casual observation and intermittent exchanges. Yet, as Thalia pondered the recent, untimely deaths of Miles and Serafina, she couldn’t help but feel there was a thread connecting them to Esther. Was it a warning? Esther, with her visible frailty and rumored health issues, seemed an easy target—perhaps even a pawn in a larger, more insidious game. Thalia was certain it wasn’t an accident; Mona had been adamant, and Thalia trusted her instincts. But the question gnawed at her: why would anyone want to harm Esther?

Thalia remained silent as Mona continued her rapid monologue, her eyes staring directly into Mona’s brown one’s. Thalia’s face had turned sour as her eyes widened at the mention of ‘another man’ “What other man?” Thalia asked, her voice breaking the hush with an urgency she couldn’t quite mask.

There where so many men in this school, talks about ‘another man’ did not really help, especially if Thalia did not have a description. If the man was fair skinned with rough dark hair and a heart shape birth mark underneath his eyes- then the man was Frederick Petrov, if he was a red haired with freckles all over his face, and a long nose- then it had to be Cillian Walsh, if he was brunette with handsome dead eyes,
an occasionally slouched posture, and an addiction to nicotine then it had to be Hayes, if it wa-well, you get the point. “Did he perhaps mention a hair color-like red, brown, idk blue?” She questioned, clearly very interested in what Mona had to say. Though, Mona had said that it wasn’t possible true and we shouldn’t focus on that and Thalia really felt like screaming, ‘forgot what I said, let’s focus on that- we have to focus on that’ but she did not, instead, she leaned against the wall, feeling her head ache, and gave Desdemona a strange look, before her lips curved into something that wasn’t quite a smile but was also not quite a frown. “We shouldn’t focus on that,” Thalia murmured, but they could, “Yeah, you’re right, We shouldn’t, but did Atlas tell you anything like.” She pursued her lips, “Not like I want to focus on that or anything, but i was wondering, because Esther is a good friend of mine,” Good friend was definitely a stretch, “When exactly did Esther faint and where you guys able to detect what was in her body that caused her to you know? Not that we have to focus on that but, it would be interesting to know,”

Thalia had this thing, where when she finds a topic that intrigues her greatly, she holds on to it- it was practically impossible, really, to rip that topic away from her clawed hands, to stop her from obsessing over it, because Thalia was nothing in her soul If not obsessive, it was what kept her moving really-what challenged her despite her inabilities due to the incident.

They had kept the topic about Esther and Atlas going on, despite the fact that Desdemona said they should not focus on it, and Thalia had asked quite a lot of questions, causing her to apologize for it, but Desdemona had only stared at her confused, like she couldn’t understand what she was apologizing for, telling her that it was okay, and she didn’t mind, causing Thalia lips to tug to a smile. She was used to hearing she talked to little as a child or when she talked she asked too many questions, and she did- she usually did, because it is or at least it used to be incredibly hard to truly understand people and societal clues, causing her to have a lot of questions. “Cute,” Thalia had smiled, “'Thought i was overwhelming you,” she explained.

As the dived more into the Esther- Atlas thing, Thalia could not help but to drop Desdemona’s hands and type into her phone , Esther and Atlas- connected??? she wondered if she would be able to catch them together today-take a picture for reasons…

Moreover, Thalia put her phone back inside her pockets, looking at Desdemona. “He’s not evil,” Thalia agreed, he was definitely not the one who harmed her. “Just annoying,” And Though he was definitely not connected to Esther’s incident, Thalia felt like he knew something, but did she really want to talk to him, well sigh. Noticing that they were no longer holding hands, Thalia took Desdemona’s hands back in her’s, “But being annoying is not really a crime I suppose, we all are in some form, still,'” She sighed, “I just idk, he’s not my type of person,” There was def not a possibility for a friendship between them to ever blossom, especially as he was best friend with the Headmaster’s daughter.

“I just don’t like adults,”

That had been Desdemona’s explanation after pushing her away, causing Thalia to resist the urge to scratch her head like -umm ok! She suppose it could be a trauma response, from adults during her younger days, or perhaps it was a lie, but Thalia didn’t feel like calling her out on it. “Not even my parents?” Thalia had said teasingly with a pout, trying to lighten up the mood, “They will be devastated to hear that.” She said putting a hand on her chest, “Oh dear, my poor parents.”


As they scrolled through pictures in thalia’s camera roll, Desdemona had her hand wrapped around Thalia’s torso and her forehead on the slope of her neck. Every time Thalia was flipping through the images, and she saw a weird suspicious thing, she would flip faster, hoping that Desdemona had not noticed it- she never really like showing anyone pictures in her camera.

“Here,” Thalia said, pausing on a particularly scenic shot of the sunset painting the sky in hues of pink and gold, “is where we’ll make countless memories together.”

“It will be great,” Thalia said when Desdemona said she couldn’t wait, “You would like it here, I think, so many different things for you to explore .” Thalia flipped to another image, but the image was a picture of a brunette boy with dead set eyes, staring at nothing in particular and Desdemona had gazed at it, but Thalia quickly switched to the next picture, before she nervously let out a laughter. “We should go here together sometime,” Thalia said pointing to a spot in the photo.


@raviola

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Lyra met Atlas’s welcoming smile with a soft one of her own, grateful for his friendly demeanor amid the newness of Ninth House. She appreciated his effort to make her feel at ease, especially considering her initial nerves about starting in a new environment. “Thank you, Atlas,” she replied warmly, her voice tinged with genuine gratitude. “It’s been a bit overwhelming, but I already feel like I’m in good company here. Everyone has been so welcoming.”

She glanced around the flickering fire, taking in the comforting glow that illuminated the courtyard. The warmth of the flames matched the warmth she felt from Atlas’s words and presence. Despite her reservations about starting at a new school, his warm welcome in Enigma Stag reassured her that she had made the right choice. Her tone eased into a more relaxed rhythm. “I’ve heard good things about Enigma Stag. People say it’s like a family here.” She chuckled softly, a hint of amusement in her eyes. “I hope I won’t be the odd one out.”

As she spoke, she noticed the way Atlas’s expression softened, his eyes reflecting the gentle dance of the fire in his hand. It made her wonder what stories those eyes held, what experiences had shaped him into the figure before her. Despite her curiosity, she knew it was too soon to delve deeper into personal matters. For now, she focused on the pleasant exchange unfolding between them, appreciating the genuine connection that was beginning to form.

“I’m looking forward to seeing what Enigma Stag has to offer,” she added sincerely, her gaze returning to meet his. “And maybe getting to know everyone a bit better.” Her words carried a genuine optimism, a willingness to embrace the new chapter unfolding before her. She hoped that her time Ninth House would indeed be filled with the creation of friendships and enriching experiences, starting with the first conversation she’s had with Atlas.

Lyra listened intently as Atlas spoke about his fascination with illusions, his words revealing a depth of passion that resonated with her. She admired his enthusiasm, sensing a shared interest in the artistry and creativity that illusions offered. “That’s really intriguing,” she replied, a spark of genuine interest in her eyes. “I’ve always wondered about the creativity behind illusions. It’s like painting with light and imagination, isn’t it? To make something appear that isn’t really there.”

Her voice carried a quiet enthusiasm, a reflection of her genuine admiration for Atlas’s skill and his thoughtful perspective on illusions. She found herself drawn to his passion, appreciating the way he spoke about his craft with both humility and confidence. It was a rare combination that intrigued her, sparking a desire to learn more about his experiences with magic and illusions specifically. “I can see why you find them so captivating,” she added, a small smile playing on her lips. “It must be amazing to create something that surprises and delights people, even if it’s just for a moment.”

Lyra glanced up at Atlas with a mixture of gratitude and amusement. His chuckle was warm and genuine, and his easygoing nature put her at ease. She couldn’t help but smile back at him, feeling a bit more relaxed despite her earlier fumbling. “Thanks,” she said, her voice soft and appreciative. “I guess I got a little too excited.” She laughed lightly, adjusting the marshmallow on her stick with more care this time. His assurance that he could hold the illusion all night made her feel less rushed and more comfortable in the moment.

As she positioned the marshmallow over the illusionary flame, she couldn’t help but be impressed by the skill he exhibited. The fire in his palm looked so real, and the way he controlled it effortlessly was mesmerizing. She felt a sense of awe and curiosity building inside her. “This is really amazing,” she admitted, her eyes flickering between the marshmallow and the illusion in his hand. “I’ve never seen anyone do something like this before. It’s like magic in its purest form.” She paused, her eyes meeting his. “You must have practiced a lot to get this good.” Her thoughts wandered briefly, wondering about the effort and dedication it must have taken for Atlas to master such a skill. It made her appreciate his talent even more. She felt a connection forming, a shared appreciation for the art of magic, even if her own skills lay in different areas.

With the marshmallow now in the process of toasting, she smiled up at him again, feeling a bit more confident. “Alright, let’s see how this turns out,” she said, a hint of playful determination in her voice. “I’m counting on your magic to make the perfect marshmallow.” Once it was finished, she took a cautious bite, expecting the warm, gooey texture of a perfectly roasted marshmallow. Instead, she found it unchanged, a testament to the pure illusion Atlas had created. She laughed, the sound light and genuine. “That was incredible,” she said, her eyes sparkling with admiration and amusement. "I should’ve known it was too good to be true. But it’s still the best roasted marshmallow I’ve never had.”

Lyra took another small bite of the marshmallow, still laughing softly. She savored the moment, not because of the taste, but because of the unexpected twist Atlas had introduced. It was clear to her that he was someone who enjoyed surprising people, making them see the world a bit differently, and she found herself appreciating a fondness for him already. “Looks like you’ve already given me my first positive experience her,” she said, her voice warm and light. “I have a feeling this place is going to be full of surprises.”


Atlas - @idiot.exe

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Atlas Theodore Alstone

⊱—⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅—⋅༻༺⋅—⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅—⊰

Morning, before class — with Seung-min

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As Seung-min attempted to guess the meaning of Atlas’ name, he listened carefully, smiling slightly in amusement. It was always so entertaining to ask people such questions, making them guess while keeping the answer a mystery. “Those are quite interesting answers,” he responded, not proceeding to even elaborate. “You’re getting quite close, but you’re missing something,” he commented, attempting to drag out the suspense which was barely there.

When Seung-min apologized for seeming like he’s teasing, Atlas found his own expression softening as if to silently reassure him. “Don’t worry, you’re not rude. I appreciate the compliment. Interesting is good.” After all, that was his aim. Interesting enough to gain people’s attention, but never revealing more than what’s on the surface.

Unsurprisingly, Seung-min truly was new. Though his demeanor and the fact that Atlas hadn’t met him had already made it obvious. His awkwardness made a lot more sense in context — from spacing out and seeming lost, to nervously shaking his hand earlier and how easily he became embarassed — things that Atlas noticed but decided not to speak on. For a moment he felt guilty for deciding to tease the guy, when he was clearly struggling enough already. “Then let me properly welcome you to Wyndham College. I can promise you won’t regret your stay here.” He bowed with a hand on his stomach as if talking to a prince. “I’ll make sure of it.”

Chuckling at his comment after, he added, “It really is huge, even I was surprised when I first stepped foot here. I’m not a stranger to large structures, but I believe Ninth House is among the biggest I’ve visited.” He paused after, looking at him in thought. “If you want, I could help you find it. I’m very familiar with this place now,” he offered, hoping to make it a bit easier for Seung-min.

At the mention of Hogwarts houses, Atlas assumed he meant the similar house division they had in the academy. He nodded, leaning back against the wall as he gave out clues. A pause followed after Seung-min finished. Though the entire thing Atlas was rather dumbfounded, resisting the urge to furrow his brows in confusion at what the other man was talking about. He barely listened to Lady Gaga, or pop in general, leaving him clueless as if he was listening to a rant on rocket science. But from what he could gather, he was talking about musicians, and combined with theater kids there was only one certain answer — “Ohh, Enigma Stag,” he said decisively, hoping he hadn’t gotten it wrong. If not the clues, then by personality he could tell Seung-min would fit right in.

So far Atlas found himself getting along quite well with him. But if only, if only he hadn’t tried to mess it up like he did last night. Those events are to remain unmentioned forever, buried in the depths of his mind never to be seen again. At the very least, back then he had a mask to conceal his face. Somehow it gave him enough confidence for any words to roll out with ease. But as he stood faced with Seung-min now, nearly asking him if he had a crush on him out of the blue, he’d realized the absurdity of his actions, and by that point it was already too late.

Before it could all backfire too much, Atlas laughed nervously again, attempting to cover up his mishap. “Wait, wait, who said anything about having a crush on me? I didn’t, you must be imagining things! Why would I ask you about that anyway, that would be insane. I’m not insane. I’m completely normal and I don’t—” he cut himself off all of a sudden, feeling his throat tighten. Atlas could feel his face heat up, going dizzy just attempting to breathe. From the speed Seung-min was talking and the embarrassment of the situation, he almost didn’t register the compliments he had given him. He was being so kind, and yet Atlas thought it’d be entertaining to toy with him.

Turning his head down, he took a deep breath to compose himself. “Y-yes I like music,” he responded to the sudden question, sighing in relief at the change of subject. He couldn’t act like this, not in front a new student out of everyone. What kind of first impression would it be? That guy, Atlas, was so obsessed with himself that he’d assumed everyone he meets likes him? Well, he was hoping for it, but that’s not important

He quickly fixed his expression into a smile, brushing off the awkwardness from earlier by steadying his voice. “I like that idea, I’ve always thought rockstars were cool. And no harm if it doesn’t fit the theme of this academy, the unexpected is always more interesting,” he responded, his brain only half operating at this rate. Music was a subject he was passionate about, he could talk about it in his sleep. He thought, it should be enough to return the conversation back to normal. “I make music as well. Classical, though, which rather fits for a Wyndham student,” he chuckled. “I’m not too familiar with rock, you’ll have to fill me in on that.”

He furrowed his brows at the mention of the subject. “Theatrical Alchemy? Are you sure? I don’t recall it being on the schedule.” Atlas was sure of it, he had it fully memorized the day he arrived. Still, the way Seung-min described it made a laugh escape his lips. He’d never thought how absurd it might sound to a newcomer. “I, well, I wouldn’t exactly say it’s that,” he replied, unable to hold back from laughing still. A part of it was due to relief, a weight lifted off his chest that things weren’t going entirely bad. “It’s more about metamorphosis, transforming yourself through theatrics. It’s a rather interesting subject, you’ll see what I mean.”

And on that topic, he felt the need to correct Seung-min. “Our first class should be Enchantic Music Composition. It starts at 9:30, so we should have…” he took his phone out of his pocket for a moment, checking the time. “We should have plenty of time before it begins.”

With that, he stepped away from the wall, extending his hand forward with another charming smile. “Then come along, I’d love to give you a tour,” he suggested, his words laced with a dramatic flair. Caught up in the moment, he failed to realize the implications of offering his hand to the man. “We could go anywhere you want. If it’s the cafeteria, then I’ll lead the way.”

⊱—⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅—⋅༻༺⋅—⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅—⊰

@cordyx Yoo Seung-min

orp

This is so funny :sob::sob: sorry to seung-min but I had to make things worse

Also sorry for taking so long, I had examss

⊱—⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅—⋅༻༺⋅—⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅—⊰


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