Ninth House | Official RP Thread

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[[[౨ৎmusique ౨ৎ )]

During the Hunt

Oh, there were so many things Amani did not need nor want and this–Dominic Vaillant reappearance was one of them. He stared at her as if confused, but Amani knew he wasn’t confusing, he was pretending in the same manner he had once pretended to care for her, to love her and she hated him for it. She hated herself, most of all, for loving and believing in him and her happily ever after. But then again, she was young, and it was her first relationship, she was bound to be a fool in love, unfortunately.

He had apologized to her, and that had only made Amani’s face to scrunch with hatred–or at least she wanted it to only show hatred, but in her eyes—oh how much her eyes failed her! There was still that fright, as if she could not believe (she couldn’t, really) that he was truly back, flesh and blood staring at her. If this was any other circumstances, if they had not ended the way they did, she would have reached out for him, had caressed his face perhaps–just to feel his body against her skin again. But that would only bring disgust towards her, what had she even seen in him? Why hadn’t she been able to see through him?

“What?” he asked bluntly, dumbfounded by her question. “I’m… I’m taking part in the scavenger hunt,” his eyes flickered back to his group for a moment, before meeting hers. “What kind of question is that?”

“You know that is not what I meant,” Her voice was harsh, "What are you doing here? In Wyndham?’ That was to say you, 'your presence was a thorn among flowers and it was. As if perhaps sensing her distress, her little creature, bit her softly, it hurt a little, but it was more like a pinch and it managed to relax her a bit, as Amani rubbed it from her pocket, trying to calm the creature down as well.

Dominic began to walk away, but then he turned around and Amani’s heat skipped a beat. Have we met? he asked. Amani’s hands balled into fists at her sides, nails digging into her palms as Dominic’s words echoed in her mind. Have we met? The question was so absurd, so filled with false innocence, that she could feel a bitter laugh bubbling up in her throat. How could he stand there, so casual, as if he had not shattered her? As if she had not spent months picking up the pieces of herself he had carelessly scattered?

“What type of question Is that, Dominic?”


@idiot.exe

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Umbra Coven || with Aurora


As the sun began to set and the final announcement signaled the end of the Scavenger Hunt, Arya stood in the courtyard, a mix of exhaustion and mild frustration coursing through her. Hours of deciphering clues, hunting down magical scrolls, and navigating through riddles had come to a close, and while her team hadn’t exactly failed, they hadn’t won either, which wasn’t exactly a common occurrence for Arya. She wasn’t exactly used to losing, but Arya had never been one to care too deeply about something as trivial as a scavenger hunt. Sure, she was competitive by nature, but it was hardly the hill she was willing to die on.

Still, Renlin’s team? Really?

Arya’s lips quirked into a half-smirk, half-sneer as she thought about it. His team was hardly made up of tactical geniuses. She wouldn’t call them idiots to their faces, or at least some, but she definitely didn’t expect them to come out on top. Still, a win was a win, even if it wasn’t hers this time. It stung a little, but in the grand scheme of things, it was just a scavenger hunt. There’d be more important battles to win later.
She brushed off the loss with a shrug, already planning to dissolve the day’s events in a more immediate distraction, a party. And of course, because Renlin was never one to celebrate quietly, he’d decided to throw a costume party at the Umbra Coven to celebrate his victory. Typical.
Arya tugged at the edge of her coat as she stood in front of the mirror, adjusting her costume for the party. She was dressed as Cruella de Vil, and she looked every bit the part of the devilish, glamorous villainess. The black-and-white wig was sharp, her red lips bold, her dress was sleek, a mix of faux fur and leather, hugging her figure in all the right places, and the faux fur coat draped around her shoulders gave her an air of villainous elegance. A long cigarette holder rested between her fingers, not that she smoked, but the prop was iconic. Arya’s lips quirked into a sly smile as she glanced at her reflection in a nearby mirror. Cruella. It was fitting, wasn’t it? She was more than just a character, she was a mood. And Arya? Well, she was more than happy to play the part.

After all, the whole night felt like a parody of itself. She could lean into the absurdity, or she could stand at the sidelines judging everyone else. Both sounded appealing.

The Umbra Coven’s hall was filled to the brim by the time she arrived, her entrance as cool and calculated as ever. The party itself was, predictably, chaotic. The room pulsed with the energy of students letting loose after a long day of tension and competition, a sea of costumes ranging from the hilariously unoriginal to the disturbingly over-the-top. One guy had shown up in what Arya could only describe as a makeshift ghost,a bedsheet with unevenly cut eye holes. The effort was nonexistent, and so was Arya’s interest to be honest. She let her eyes pass over the crowd with casual detachment, the werewolves by the bar had clearly put in more effort, though the whole “wear a flannel and call it a day” approach was still lazy .Arya smirked, casually sipping her drink. She couldn’t help but take mental notes on the various efforts, or lack thereof.

Before she could settle into a quiet corner and fully embrace her role as the elegant observer, a voice broke through the hum of conversation. Aurora. Arya’s brow lifted slightly as she watched her. Aurora was dressed as a 1920s flapper girl, the beaded fringe of her dress shimmering under the dim light. It suited her, something vintage and classic, but still with that touch of flair. They weren’t exactly friends anymore, they hadn’t been close in a long time. Not since… well, not since things between them had soured. The reasons didn’t matter now. Whatever had caused the rift had grown cold with time, though the air between them still felt heavy with unspoken tension. Arya could sense the tension between them, like a thread stretched too tight, threatening to snap. She didn’t dwell on it often, but now, seeing Aurora cutting through the crowd toward her, she glanced around the room before her gaze settled back on her. She took another sip of her drink, tilting her head slightly as Aurora reached her.

“Sure,” Arya replied coolly, raising a brow as she studied her face. Aurora stepped closer, but there was something in her eyes that didn’t match the outfit. Something guarded, almost fragile, that Arya hadn’t seen in a long time. But she has always been good at reading people. The flapper girl costume almost seemed out of place now, a symbol of carefree glamour against the weight of whatever she had weighting on her. Arya, still holding her drink, leaned casually against the mantle of the fireplace, her posture relaxed but her focus sharpened. “What’s on your mind, Dear?


@astxrism Rory

@Madilfill Renlin mentioned

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RenNew
Song - Problem

Renlin navigated through the crowded room, feeling like himself in a way he hadn’t in a while. Tonight, he wasn’t just another player in someone else’s story, a puppet moving to strings pulled by expectations or plans he hadn’t chosen. He was here, fully present, and in his element. The energy around him felt wild and liberating, a break from everything.

The room was dimly lit, except for the strings of different colored fairy lights casting a warm, flickering glow across the space, and the occasional flash of colored lights that pulsed in time with the music. A few people had climbed onto tables to dance, drinks sloshing over the edges of cups as they laughed and shouted above the beat. Renlin’s friends kept coming up to him, a steady stream of high-fives, claps on the back, and cheers, acknowledging him with grins and shouts about what an amazing night it was already.

Even though he knew he belonged here tonight, Renlin needed a break, a cigarette and some fresh air. The room was humid, the kind of sticky warmth mixed with a haze that he recognized immediately. The air carried that familiar mix of sweat and the sharp, skunky smell lingering in the background, stronger tonight than usual. He moved through the crowd, ducking out of one conversation and toward the door.

Just as he was weaving through, he felt a small figure collide with him, hands pressing against his chest, her fingers scrunching up the fabric of his tank top. He glanced down, catching a glimpse of a flustered expression as she looked up at him, apologizing in a hurried stream. Her words tumbled over one another as she asked about Connie, whoever that was, and Bradford.

Oh, Hugh Hefner? Last time I saw him, he was in the bathroom, styling his hair or something,” he replied with a smirk. He was amused at the randomness of the encounter, her persistence as she clung to him, clearly trying to find her friends in the chaos.

Renlin held up his pack, waving it just slightly with a smirk. “Do you smoke?” He asked, eyes glinting as he watched her reaction.

He nodded toward the door, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Trying escape for a second,” he muttered, feeling a flicker of excitement at the thought of slipping away, if only for a few minutes.

@raviola monnnnaaa

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Copy of Copy of Copy of Silas

[[𓆩⟡𓆪 𓆩⟡𓆪 𓆩⟡]]

There was a specific way in which her heart had fluttered when she saw his grin growing wide, she couldn’t understand what particularly made her heart flutter, but it did and blinking, she give him a soft smile. “Well,” She began, when he asked her what took her so long, “It took me an hour to put this wings on.” She confessed, following it by a small laughter. She wasn’t lying, it did take her almost an hour to put this wings on, but another reason, she did not mention, was her being conflicted on whether to come or not, before she was bombarded with messages into coming.

She played with her pendant, as from the corner of her eyes, she saw figures moving, and people talking. She was so focused on her environment, that she did not notice Renlin looping his free arm around her waist, pulling her in closer. She let out a gasp, as her head made contact with his chest. She looked up at him, shock evident on her face, and though she did not look at anyone but him, she swore she could see eyes on them or more like feel them and it made her nervous, and she did not know what to do. There were so many things she could do: Run away, enjoy the feel of the soft fabric of his tank top pressed against her silky shirt, or just simply try not to think about it. She wished she had a drink right now, would have helped her relax more. With Inessa being around somewhere, being this close to Renlin, simply put her on the edge.

“Let’s Dance…” He said, and Thalia immediately parted her lips and let out the words, “Ren…” How was it that every time she was around him, they went from 0 to 100? She shook her head, and was wanted to leave but then… she sighed, would it hurt to dance? She wanted to dance, she liked to dance, and besides they knew each other–everyone knew Thalia was close with Inessa, it wouldn’t be weird for her to dance with Renlin. Would it? No, she told herself, as he let her fingers play with his, she allowed him to pull her to the center of the room, where other dancers surrounded them and they dance, his hand around her waist. She gave him a wry smile, as she looked up at him, part of her wanting to place her head on his shoulder’s.

“You feel perfect here," he told her, and she simple looked at him, pretending she had not heard, because what could she say or do in response to that? Their bodies’ moved to the beat of the music and she let out a soft laugh when he said he might step on her toes, his breath brushing against her air. , “Renlin!” She exclaimed, her voice quiet but loud enough, “If you step on my foot, I just might have to step on yours,” She whispered to him, "And then it can be fair, " She teased.


@Madilfill

Dominic Vaillant

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Clone — Fire Escapes
After the conversation with Lenore

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Quick, rushed steps hit the marble floors of the academy halls. Dominic sprinted across, backpack hitting his body. He didn’t dare look back.

He turned a sharp corner, his back hitting the cold, stone wall. As his chest heaved from the sudden increase in speed, Dominic shut his eyes.

Calm down.

Slowly, he released an exhale, letting his muscles relax.

Shuffling to the side, he peeked his head from behind the wall. His eyes darted around quickly as he scanned the hallway, his heart pounding in anticipation.

Nothing but emptiness. The hanging chandeliers lit up the hallway, leaving shadows by the side where statues stood. On the other side — arch-shaped windows spanning the entire length, from where the moon cast a soft glow against the glass. Outside, the air felt still, a light breeze swaying along the grass.

Everything was silent, aside from the song of crickets and owls; the muffled music coming from the Umbra Coven dorm.

Dominic retreated, cursing under his breath. That entire day, from breakfast to the scavenger hunt, to the beginning of the party and everything in between, there was something trailing after him. A presence, not quite material, one he could feel through a sixth sense of sort. If you’d asked him to prove it, he wouldn’t be able to, because neither his eyes nor his ears could detect anything. He just knew, from the back of his mind and the uneasiness in his stomach, there was something — somebody — watching him. A pair of eyes, or perhaps a dozen, moving along with his shadow everywhere he went.

After shooting one last glance at the hallway, Dominic continued on his path. He clenched his fists, and the silence was cut by the thud of his shoes. Walls blurred around him into an image of shadows and light, a door at the end becoming the center of his vision. His mind raced, disorganized thoughts flashing through his head.

Specifically, how had he missed this presence following him so closely?

Crowds. All day long he was surrounded by people, obstacles to his goal. How foolish of him to underestimate these watchful eyes under the assumption of discomfort.

The music turned louder the closer he approached. Its melody blurred with the thud of his quickened steps. His grip landed on the handle, and Dominic pulled the door open, the silence shattered by the sudden blast.

He steadied himself with a small exhale, before slipping between the people. Navigating through the crowds, he made it out of the Umbra Coven’s common area and into the kitchen, where the smell of alcohol filled his nose. Dominic’s face scrunched in disgust, pushing past a group of chanting men. Next to the counters, in the far corner of the room, was a heavy door to a fire escape.

He’d memorized the layout so clearly, from all those nights he had spent wandering the common areas, the hallways, the classrooms abandoned during the darkest hours. An internal map existed solely in his mind, containing even the location of so-called “secret” places he’d since given up on exploring.

Though this was the most crowded place, nobody would notice him missing in a pool of many, obscured by blinding lights.

Dominic pushed the door open enough to slip through. Remnants of lights floated in his vision as he was met with dark silence once more. Steadily he began to walk down, hand gliding across the chipping rust of the railing. As the cool breeze hit his skin, his pace quickened, the clang of metal echoing into the stillness. And though his heart pounded in his ears and adrenaline coursed through his veins in a painful spike, his lips curved into a smile. For once, he felt hopeful. The exit was within his reach, and he was almost there. Once he reached the bottom, he would climb off and run as far as his feet could take him—

A shadow flashed into his view, blocking the sight of his escape. Dominic stopped abruptly, staggering back. He gripped the railing tightly, cold piercing his numbing skin.

He could hear the pounding of his heart again. His head snapped to the sides, as if looking for an asnwer — was he to turn back now? He looked behind him, his heel lifting to the previous step. And there he saw him. The tall man with the intimidating blue eyes, looming over him. Dominic’s heart sunk, a sharp pain shooting through his chest. He felt his limbs go as cold as the air.

He was trapped. In front of him — a shadow, likely one of Vincenzo’s, and behind him was the man himself, the sole reason he’d chosen to run.

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@raviola ⋅𖥔⋅ Vinnieee

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★・・・・・・★ ⊱♥⊱ ★・・・・・・★

IMG_8558

★・・・・・・★ ⊱♥⊱ ★・・・・・・★

Ayla sighed but pressed on. “I get it. People can be a disaster sometimes, but it’s just a party. It’s not like he’ll be waiting to ambush you with a sword and shield.” She stepped closer, lowering her voice as if sharing a secret. “And look, I brought everything we could possibly need!” She said, eyeing her basket, before looking back at Tae. “Getting ready is like, the best part of goi g out!”


“Renlin almost killed me and I don’t have a death wish.” Ayla didn’t miss a beat. She hated to admit it, but these kind of things kept her going. “Fck Renlin. I swear, if he even thinks about coming after you tonight, I will kick his ass myself—Not that you’d need me to step in, but still—I’m not letting him make you feel like you’re the villain here.” A moment of silence passed as her fierce protectiveness washed over them. She had never met Renlin, but the idea of him coming after Tae ignited a fire within her. “He doesn’t get to define your worth or your happiness, Tae.”

Ayla wasn’t one for heartfelt conversation with just anyone, but tonight it felt necessary. Not just to get Tae to some stupid party, but to prove she cared. Something she felt she didn’t tell people often enough. “You…” She hesitated, not sure how to approach this. “I know what it’s like to lose a brother, too. I get that you’re carrying this weight, and it’s not something you should have to shoulder indefinitely. Renlin may blame you for what happened, but that doesn’t mean you have to keep dragging those feelings back up just because he’s still chained to them. It’s like he has the emotional capacity of a toddler, no offense to toddlers.” She smiled, thin and strained, but there nonetheless.

“You have every right to feel your feelings, Tae. Anger, sadness, confusion—whatever it is. But you don’t have to take Renlin’s emotions and make them yours. He’s processing grief in the only way he knows how, and that doesn’t involve looking at the facts. You shouldn’t have to bear the burden of his broken heart too. You’re not his emotional punching bag.” She winced, “or… ya know,” she rotated her wrist trying to convey ‘his literal punching bag’ without actually saying it.

★・★ @Caticorn | Tae ★・★

★・★ @Madilfill | Ren | Mentioned… threatened? ★・★

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[[[౨ৎmusique ౨ৎ ]]]

clone-after the hunt


Who cares? He asked, but she ignored him to continue. Why could he not understand? What was so hard for him to understand? It was not like she was speaking a different language nor was she being overall complex, it was simple and it was a fact; they were done. “My life is real enough,” She argues, You’re what’s not real,” She doesn’t explain, she simply sighs. She was tired, it was night, and at this time, she could be sleeping, getting her beauty sleep in, but instead she was arguing, and involving herself with a fantasy. Since she was 16, she had known what her reality was–how her life was going to be and she was okay with it, it was not new information and she had still hold on to Vincenzo as a friend a close friend and though she knew the dangers of having someone like him so close to her, that it would never last, she ignored it, and thought that she could hide him forever but she could not. That was the real fantasy–him, her belief that they could be a forever thing, the rest was her reality and he was foolish for thinking he was her reality.

She was worn out, extremely, from fighting with him. A part of her or maybe all of her didn’t truly want to fight with him, but she had to make him understand. Thus, hazel met blue, and it was intense-- She had never truly known the meaning of the word ‘intense’ till now but now she knew it, it was like a hurricane-- wild, terrible and restless. When she started at his eyes, all she could truly see was not his blue eyes that sometimes during the hurl of insult she would throw at him, she would compare to fish eyes, she did think he had fish eyes, but more in the way that it reminded her of the sea–take it as you want to take it. But now, she did not see any sea, instead she saw a hurricane and she was trying hard not to get tangled with it.

So she spoke, she told him, that he knew this doesn’t last, her voice was soft but her words were harsh–but truth none of the less. She told him, she would go back to hating him, which was true–she would, after all he gave her this dress that he claims he gave to another person already, the things he said about her father who she holds dear and the words they threw back and forth to each other. After this, after she takes another shower, Vincenzo would go back to being a fiend in her mind, You can’t love a friend, and she did not want to love him. She let the silence settle between them, feeling its weight pressing down on her shoulders as she took a deep breath, steadying herself. She knew this wasn’t easy for him, that he was wrestling with everything she was saying, trying to make sense of the shifting ground beneath him. But it had to be done.

“Yes, I will,” In fact she already hated him, she hated how hard it seemed for him to simply become a memory. She ignored the rest of his words, and spoke again, and then he asked how long has this thoughts–the thoughts that Azriel was her future and him simply her past had been part of her mind. She fidget with her fingers, because the answer was also part to the last thing he asked, and she could not tell him. She could not tell him why she left because he would make a big deal out of it, and make rough decisions, as he was prone to doing. “Does it matter?” She knew it did, as much as she knew she was not going to tell him the true reason why she left, how Azriel had…

Instead of telling, she could distract him, she could blur the lines of their relationship, so he could become someone entirely different from her Vinnie, and that’s what she did, stepping closer to him, she pressed her lips to his neck, placing a hand on his chest, like how sometimes she would do to tease him during their friendship, but there was no teasing in this.

He called her name, but she ignored him, biting his neck slightly, as she continued to kiss him up and down, she was going to forget this was her Vinnie. But he did something unexpected, something that made a little gasp escape from her lips as he shoved his arm around her chest and gripped her by her throat, and pulled her into a harsh kiss–kissing Vinnie, the last thing she wanted to do.

Her breath hitched as his grip tightened just slightly, his kiss harsh, demanding, a stark contrast to the familiar warmth she’d known before. This wasn’t the Vinnie she’d grown up with—the Vinnie who could make her laugh until her sides hurt, who she trusted enough to hold her secrets, her fears. This was someone darker, someone whose touch felt like a wildfire, a searing force that left her dizzy and grounded all at once.

She pushed him away with one hand, or at least tried to, but his grip was quite strong, but finally, she managed to pull back,

truggling for breath, her hand still on his chest, feeling his heart hammer beneath her fingertips. His eyes, sharp and filled with that familiar fire, searched her face as if looking for an answer she wouldn’t give him.

"“Vincenzo,” he murmured, her voice almost a plea, trying to grasp something to ground herself. This wasn’t what she had wanted; she needed space, needed to draw the lines of her life back in order. But he wouldn’t let go. His grip softened on her throat, but his gaze held her with the same intensity. She touched her lips, when he finally let go, her eyes innocently wide as If she couldn’t believe they had actually kissed, that their lips had connected. Sure, they had shared a quick kiss back in the masquarade ball, but she did not know his identity at that time, so it was different–at least that’s what she told herself. But here, they were bare to each other, they knew who each was, they could feel and hear each other’s heartbeat, and they had kissed, something that was not supposed to happen.


@raviola

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Atlas Theodore Alstone

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

End of the Hunt

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

Atlas’s team was close to the end. His heart was pounding, anticipating the outcome. He couldn’t hold back a grin, even as cold sweat dripped down his forehead. For once in those three years he’d been at Wyndham, the prize was within reach.

A long, stretched out creek echoed in the forbidden wing.

His eyes snapped wide. He could feel the drop of his heart. Slowly, Atlas turned his head to the side, where the fourth door stood tall. And he simply watched. He watched as the other team, who were trailing behind his own until now, pushed open the gates to the Enchanted Archive.

He swallowed, closing his dropped jaw. His lips curved back into a grin, and he dug his nails into his palms, restraining his anger. “Ha… Well,” he turned back towards his team, noticing the same look of disappoinment on their faces. Of course, they were so close, and it was a matter of pure chance who the winners would be. “We did our best, right? You were all amazing,” he smiled, his voice oddly relaxed. “Better luck to us next year!”

He stayed at the gate, the tension in his jaw turning to pain, watching as the other team — Renlin, Thalia, Desdemona, a few unfamiliar students — held the prize which was meant to be his. It was bitter. A lump in his throat, his palms shaking beneath the wrath of his nails. And yet, as he met the eyes of each person walking out, he gave them a warm smile. “Congratulations,” he chuckled lightly. “I’m so proud of you all. This hunt was a blast, I must say.”

As the students retreated back to their dorms, Atlas felt a weight lift off his chest. His door closed with force, not quite a slam but tense nonetheless. He leaned against the wall, running his hands through his hair.

“I failed… Again, he sighed loudly, sinking to the ground. He chose to sit like that for a while, letting his thoughts swirl through his mind. “Why do I even bother working so hard if… If the final choice was going to be based on luck?” he murmured, his voice muffled by his knees. “I mean, it makes no sense. Renlin beat me. Renlin. And I thought he was the type to neglect his education?” he chuckled to himself. “And that girl… Desdemona? She bought all my lies that night, there is no way…”

Taking a deep breath to prepare himself, Atlas rose to his feet.

“What do you… think…” his voice trailed off. Looking into his eyes was his reflection — twisted and unrecognizable, as if an image put through the distortion of water. A lump formed in his throat again, and his tone dropped to a raspy whisper. “I see how it is…” he let out a strained chuckle, turning away so he doesn’t have to see it. “Alright, alright… Maybe I am a bit jealous. But you don’t have to rub it in like that.”

His hands landed on the knobs of his dresser, swinging it open. “I mean, I have every right to be. Because I really do work hard, unlike the rest,” he glanced over his shoulder, towards the mirror standing behind him. His reflection was now so distorted, he could barely see a silhouette of a person. With a sigh, his head fell down. Eyes trailed over his wardrobe, the pieces of clothing going unregistered as his mind began to stray from the present.

Will I ever win? — Don’t think about that now.

How will I become recognized if I continue to be mediorce? — Just don’t think.

If only I could turn back time. — No. No use in thinking. Just focus on the present. Don’t let your mind wander, no matter what.

His hands began to shake, gripping the doorknobs to steady himself.

The party. There was going to be a party in celebration of the winners that night. That’s why he’d opened the dresser to begin with. Nodding, he shuffled through his clothes, baggy and mostly in shades of black. There wasn’t a single thing in his wardrobe that didn’t fit Atlas. Well, specifically, not a thing was unlike his style. Because when it came to his character and his sense of fashion, the two were mismatched. Nobody would guess his personality by appearance alone. And if they somehow did, it would be a deeper, hidden part of himself that not even he could face yet.

He tilted his head, considering his options. Nothing here would be different enough, no matter how he styled it.

Unless… He used his illusion magic.

His lips spread into a grin, laughing under his breath.

Yes… That’s it…

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

Umbra Party — with Kairo

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

The door of the Umbra Coven swung open, and behind it stood Atlas — short black dress barely covering his thighs, and over it a frilly apron, tightened with black laces. He walked with his back straight, heels clicking faintly against the floor muffled from the music. Towering above most students, now at a height of 6’5, he felt a strange surge of excitement. As the others laid eyes on him, he shot them a barely restrained grin. Lights bathed his skin in every color, and they brightened the usual gloomy atmosphere of the common room. Usually, Atlas preferred to avoid stepping foot on Umbra territory, but today was an exception.

He scanned the room, looking for some familiar face. Renlin, perhaps, as he deserved a thank you for organizing this party. And… A proper congratulations. He had won, after all.

But instead his gaze landed on a cowboy hat, sticking out in the crowd. He tilted his head with a smile, as beneath it he saw the face of his teammate from the scavenger hunt.

Atlas covered his lips, laughing to himself, as he lifted the other arm in the air. Golden ribbons began to swirl towards his palm, slowly materializing into a disc. They glowed faintly against his black glove, mixing with the lights. In his hand now laid a round drink tray, six glasses of drinks popping on top of it.

With grace, he swung it from above his head down to his chest. Offering it forward with a small bow, his eyes met Kairo’s. “Hey, we meet again,” he winked. “Kairo, right? Fancy a drink?”

Now, if his new friend would accept a glass, it would act like any other. Cold, smooth surface against his palm, and he’d feel the weight of the liquid inside. But as soon as it meets his lips and the drink pours down his throat, it would fade to dust, with not even a taste.

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

@CerealKiller Kairo Elias Hall

Mentioned:
@Madilfill Ren
@raviola Mona

Very briefly present/mentioned:
Thalia and the rest of her team
Team Adrian’s Favs
@Nil

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


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≪ °❈° ≫≪ °❈° ≫

“That’s what it feels like sometimes. No matter what I do, I can’t avoid him.” He sighed, running his hands through his dark hair. He had intended to stay out of Renlin’s way at the sleepover and well, that certainly didn’t stay true for long. “But, if you want my help getting ready, I won’t say no.” He added, trying not to let on that she was beginning to convince him.

Fck Renlin…

Tae looked at Ayla in surprise as she spoke. He couldn’t imagine her taking on Renlin, nor did he want to, but her protectiveness comforted him. Still, he shook his head. “I would never forgive myself if you got hurt because of me.” Having experienced the violence his cousin was capable of firsthand, he refused to let her go into the path of it. “It’s hard not to let him when he’s constantly looming over me.”

“Sometimes I wonder if my dad wishes my brother was still here instead of me.” He confessed, staring at his comforter. He no longer remembered what it was like to not have guilt and grief weighing him down and he wasn’t sure he knew how to function without it. “Other times I wonder if he hates me and just won’t say anything because of my mom. Or if he regrets choosing us over his first wife. Which is stupid because he’s never been hateful towards me or my mom but I can’t get the thought out of my head.” This was the first time that Tae was saying this out loud and he couldn’t deny that it felt nice to get it out there. He could never say it to his family because they would tell him he was worried about nothing but the thought had been constantly in the back of his mind since the accident.

He nodded as she told him that Renlin’s feelings were not his responsibility, even though part of him wasn’t convinced. “Isaac would hate this.” He spoke quietly, fidgeting with his ring. “He was always trying to get Renlin and I to get along. He would have wanted us to be there for each other instead of at each other’s necks.” This wasn’t the first time Tae had thought about this since his brother died. Sometimes he wondered if Isaac’s death could have brought them together if it had happened under different circumstances. Isaac and Renlin were like brothers and he and Tae could have comforted each other through the loss instead of falling deeper into this pit of hatred.

≪ °❈° ≫≪ °❈° ≫

@Tina.G - Ayla

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enzo|597px;x209px;

The morning after the hunt || with Aurora

Vincenzo sat at a long, sprucewood table in the refectory, eating breakfast with his friends. The men gathered together were sharing jokes, laughing as some were dressed, a few were still in their pajamas because they didn’t want to miss the fun. Next to him was Renlin, across from him Chadwick and Bradford… David, Oliver, Henry.

“You guys, why haven’t we done a hear-me-out cake?” Bradford asked benignly.
“You just want an excuse to print a picture of Chad,” Enzo chuckled, and Alex nudged his side.
Chadwick blinked dryly, not laughing, and something washed over Bradford’s face. He froze as if touched by midas. Under the table, there was a hand on his knee.

Then the man snapped back. “You say that like you don’t have an active fan page for Renlin.”
“It’s not mine!! How many times do I have to tell you guys?” Vincenzo rolled his eyes. “Okay but, realistically, who are you guys putting on your hear-me-out cake.”
“Margot Robbie,” David smirked confidently, as if he were the bro of all bros.
Henry smacked him. “A real hear me out, dipshit. Margot Robbie is an obvious choice.”
“The green m&m.”
“Still obvious.”
“Mama coco.”

The table fell silent.

Upon this silence, as the boys looked around at each other in awe, Vincenzo noticed a presence enter through the double-doors. It was Professor Hardman, urgency in her wide, distant eyes. What had happened now? He wondered to himself, as he muffled the voices of the boys starting to talk again. Surely it was nothing important, he assumed, knowing that Hardman had a tendency to be overdramatic, but reflexively, he would admit that the first thought he went to was that it had something to do with the disappearances. No one had gotten answers yet, and in his recent conversations with Hayes, he had only been reminded of how much he was affected by Miles. The guy wasn’t the same, and the feeling you’d get on campus was a little bit heavier. He and his friends, when they weren’t being stupid, tried to get to the bottom of it so much that it was his first thought at most insignificant alarms.

Professor Hardman walked swiftly and purposefully past the lanes of tables in the refectory, the light and airy fabric of her blouse waving with her steps until he watched her turn into the column where he sat. He watched her lock eyes with him, and at this, he scooted back, turning as she arrived to speak with her. He had not been approached by a professor this way since his earlier years, before they trusted him and he was always getting in trouble, but when they did, he knew it was best to comply. Had he done something wrong? Or, more precisely, had he been accused of something again?

“Enzo, I need you to report to the headmaster’s quarters immediately. There’s an emergency,” She said, and his face contorted into something of a distraught. “What happened?” He asked, concerned for why she may need him.
“I’ll tell you in the hallway,” she said, trying to mask her grimace with a smile.

Vincenzo stood, and followed her down. On the way, she told him what had happened. And that Jesse would likely be there too. At that, he tensed. Jesse was the last person he wanted to see, at all times, and the thought of him healing Aurora for more of Adrian’s approval made his blood grow cold with fury.

Stepping into the room, the asswipe was already there, which made Vincenzo roll his eyes in his presence. The nurse began to speak.
“Thank you for coming, you two,” she smiled. “Obviously, the Dears wanted to have as much support a possible, but we really only need one of you in the ro-”

Jesse’s white-toothed smile lit up, but Vincenzo pushed him before he could speak, barging into the room.
But when he walked in, he noticed the way that the two parents sat at their daughters’ side, and witnessed Aurora sleeping, whom they were unsure would wake up anytime soon.

Reluctantly, he forced himself to close the door much softer than he had opened it. Then, he walked to one end of the couch.

“Vincenzo, thank you for coming.” Adrian had said, and as he rarely did, the man sounded… vulnerable. “We need you. Aurora… she’s been affected by something, something dark." He glanced at Aurora, who lay pale and still, her chest rising and falling gently. “She hasn’t woken up since the party last night."
Concern troubled Vincenzo’s expression.
“What can I do?”

@astxrism Aurora

notes:
sorry idk what the first part is auhduehkf i just needed to warm up
mentions:
@Madilfill Renlin
@chadbrad

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