Multiple Settings Midnight Campus (Closed Sign-ups)

[Toivoajarakkaus]

The Wisdom of the Blind, Zuriel the Betrayed
Approaching Bloodsage Port

"So... What are we supposed to do with him?"

"Do what?"

"You know. Do we like??? Just throw him into the Cistern??? Take him to Professor Shadownvyne???"

"Maybe we should take him to the Professor. Or see if anyone knows any regenerations spells to speed up the process."

"Yeah. Your first-aid doesn't seem to be doing him any favors. Is he still bleeding?"

"Hold on, let me check."

The sudden peek of light made the angel want to vomit. Coupled with the sensation being rocked back and forth, and the stickiness of what was his own blood beginning to crust was doing his nervous stomach no favors.

"Yeah, but I think his regeneration is starting to kick in."

"How are we going to explain this??? Hey boss, we were wandering the human realm for a bit when we found an ArchAngel bleeding out in an Alleyway. Neat huh."

"Maybe add the fact that its face was being eaten by demon blood."

"Who the hell decided to pick a fight with an Archangel, blind it, and then leave it for dead?"

His captors just kept talking, trying to puzzle out why a demon would leave such important prey behind. Demons... They would never believe it was his fellow angels, archangels, his siblings in fact, that left him in such a state. He tried to swallow past the dry, tender track of his throat. It had been a while since he tore it screaming in agony twice, the first time when the blood began to burn, and second when his would-be saviors attempted to flush the wounds. Oh, how he felt sick, but he also felt numb as well. The archangel should be writhing in agony, but all he could focus on is the twisting of his stomach.

"-I'm just saying it's weird. Hey, Archangel."

He raised up his head, regretting having lifted it as the taste of bile filled his mouth.

"What's your name? Or do they not give you guys names anymore?"

"Zuriel... My name is Zuriel."​

 

[Tattletale]

June Fairchild - Student, Obsidian Brigade
Mood: Tired, friendly, shy
Location: Hotel Holmes

"Well, she seems nice enough- Ow. Ow. Strong. Hand. Crushing."

June winced but hid it quickly. It seemed unintentional and he didn't want her to feel uncomfortable. She was surprisingly strong though, and she didn't even look like she was putting too much into the handshake! After clasping her hand, he looked at the hissing creature on her arm, crouching slightly to address it.

"Pleasure, Nake. I guess I need to thank you then!" He smiled, nodding at the snake.

"And pleased to meet you, Valyre. I'm Juniper, but everyone calls me June." He continued, getting back up. " Yeah, I've been around here for a few years. But hey, I'm starting at the Obsidian Brigade, so in a way, we're both newbies! I'm assuming you are Obsidian too?"

He looked around as he heard a few others whispering and giggling at the new girl.

"Don't pay them too much mind, they'll get bored soon enough. Everyone gets excited about the new arrivals." He paused. "Are you nervous about Orientation?"

Interaction: Chrushta (Valerie)

 

[Pepsionne]

Alastair Proctor | Cerise Drake
Location: Hotel Holmes
Mood: Determined | Mood: Friendly, nervous​

The demon professor gave Alastair a startled expression as she turned around to face him. Her posture had straightened from the slouched position she had taken before, revealing her tall, towering frame among the crowd. Alastair looked at her skeptically, unsure of her strange reactions to his reaching out. Was she trying to tail someone herself?

Several students around them looked over at the sudden and demanding appearance of the oni with startled glances. Maybe Alastair had inadvertently interrupted a cloaking spell of hers. He was used to seeing things he wasn’t supposed to, his half spirit genetics giving him vision that other creatures lacked.

Cherry slithered up and around his shoulders, holding the upper half of her body up to stand attentive towards the professor. Her nerves buzzed with happiness as Akane flashed a friendly smile.

"Ah, Mr. Proctor. It's always a nice change of pace to see students striving to learn beyond their base curriculum. By all means, ask away. However, I'll have to ask you to be brief. Orientation will start shortly and Professor Ambrosius will have my hide if I make his star pupil run late. We wouldn't want that, hm?"

Alastair’s stoic expression brightened at the remark. The action brought a lively gleam to his heterochromatic gaze, a playful spark bouncing between the two colors. He returned Akane’s smile.

“Professor Ambrosius will probably be late on his own accord, I’m sure of it,” He let the brief smile fade from his face as a serious air swept over his person suddenly. “The question I wanted to ask you, it relates to the containment of celestial beings here on campus.”

“They’re contained, out of their celestial forms, using enchantment magic by professors here, are they not? The wizard in this book,” He held up the leather bound novel in his hand, “He discusses the possibility of using enchanted tools as a way to forcibly transform and bind bodily states. From celestial to mortal, beast to man, spirit to physical.”

Alastair turned his gaze back to Akane, his head tilted up to match his eyes with hers. “I’d like to know if executing a spell like that would be possible here, and if so, if you’d guide me through the logistics of finding the right tool to bind. Cecil would be there as well, of course, to help with the enchantment. I haven’t discussed something like this with him though, I’ve researched this path on my own accord.”

The student’s gaze was clear and steady, the sheer look of determination that swam in his eyes a piercing force that frequently instilled discomfort and unease in others. Cherry lowered herself down slightly at the change in her master’s presence. When he set his mind to something this seriously, his tenacity at seeing it through to the end frightened her.

Interacts: Tattletale Akane/Ami

 

[Dawnstar]

Cian Graves - Dullahan - Onyx Brigade
Location - Hotel Holmes Lobby
Interact - Tryxla Drekavac Maskruelty ​

Cian mirrored Tryxla's smirk regarding time with a silent but visible chuckle. Given his undead nature Cian was definitely a night owl, and hadn't been awake for that long so despite the hour he'd only recently gotten out of bed. A fact that somewhat showed given the scruffiness of the hair Tryxla was staring at. And her assessment of Cian was fair, a fact he confirmed with a quick nod and an excited click of his wheels as he rocked forward onto his toes and then back flat again like a half-bounce. He'd gotten pretty fed up over the break, as odd as it sounds for a boarding school in another dimension you need a special boat and permission to leave this was his way of escaping.

At the later question of roommates Cian shook his head quickly, emoting his body language as if more anxious and confused as he rolled and turned to look at everyone else in the room. Then he looked back to Tyrxla and returned the question back by giving a questioning expression and pointing to a view random students then herself with a shrug. He'd had the shared dorm room to himself over the last week since he'd arrived early. He had no idea who would be his roommate.

After a few moments he paused thinking, idly gliding backwards a few paces looking to the floor. Despite the significant age difference there wasn't that big a difference in height, especially with the skates adding an extra two inches to Cian's height. A fact that made Tryxla a lot easier for Cian to talk to, or atleast to both talk to and look at without his head chafing on its collar and support too much from looking up all day.
Given that this fact, and to rid the awkward silence he looked back up to her with a curious but cautious glint in his soulless green eyes.

Drawing his mortal smartphone again he swipes past the popular mortal cartoon used as his lock screen and quickly types in another message then drags it into the air. "How are-" He then erases the flame message before it could fully appear and starts typing again, clearly unhappy with his wording. Again he pulled the words from the device and created them in the cold soul flame. "How difficult were the Ebony classes..?" A question clearly born from some uncertainty with this being the boy's his last year as an Onyx.

 

[StickSlug]

Maribel

Mentions:
Pepsionne

Location:
Outside (near Moonside Manor)

Mood:
Excited, confused, sincere

While idly glancing at her murky surroundings, Mary's hands combed through her hair. Normally, her hair reached down toward her knees. This was when the Red was semi-dormant and not manipulating her hair somehow. Though there was the occasional streak of blood left on her hands as she ran them through her hair, Mary ignored it. Besides, the streaks usually disappeared rather quickly. When she first 'met' the Red, her hair terrified her. Every part of it repulsed her. The red hue, the monster hiding in it... But when she tried cutting it one night, a thought came to her. Her hair wasn't what had hurt her, what had manipulated her and possessed her. Rather, it was with her from the beginning. Ever since that moment, her demeanor toward her own hair became more positive.

Almost completely lost in her thoughts, Mary almost missed the voice addressing her. Her attention snapped to it, though, when she realized who it belonged to. She stopped in her tracks, unable to contain her rather delighted smile. Her hand waved at his, failing to notice any awkwardness about the exchange.

Quietly, she listened to his revelation. As she gave him all of her attention, she couldn't help but notice his eyes flitting here or there. Obliviously, she tried following his gaze wherever it went, wondering what his eyes found so interesting. She kept this up until his apology forced her gaze to level on his face. A look of question was in her eyes. Why did she deserve an apology? She couldn't fathom it.

Though she wanted to object, she was polite enough to allow him to finish. When he did, however, she was quick to speak up in his defense. "Cecil, you owe me nothing. I was simply looking out for your safety and the safety of others. Among other things. And besides, I know how important overcoming your curse is; I would argue that, more than anything, you would be jeopardizing yourself if you stopped looking for a cure." Mary's words were full of confidence. It was unusual for her to speak this passionately about something, but she hoped that this would convey her sincerity.

"I know better than most that you're a good person, Cecil. Your curse-- Our curses-- they don't define us. They only define us when we stop seeing them as separate from ourselves." While Mary spoke, her hands were automatically drawn to her chest. This happened when she was talking genuinely from her heart. Though she had a gnawing fear that she was being a bit melodramatic or preachy, she couldn't help that she was a bit fantastical. Mary blamed it on her angelic origins.

Even so, Mary hoped that Cecil would understand her. Maybe he would even feel touched. Mary acknowledged that this was a bit of a long shot; however, she couldn't help but dream of a reality where she was understood.

coded by weldherwings.

 

[Chrushta]

Valyre Hassan: Student, Obsidian Brigade
Mood: amused
Form: Human
Location: Hotel Holmes
​

Nake's slick form unwound its way from her arm, maneuvering until he was stretching out from the top of her shoulder. The snake soul's eyes gazed upon June's form with ease as his tongue carresed the air between them a few times. Seeming to get a good read on him he finally replied. " Pleasssure to meet you. Your company is much appreciated." Nake eased back a little from the new companion until his light form rested across Valryes relaxed shoulders, her wavy brown hair lightly brushing across his scales. "Also, her clumsiness is no way a result of my actions she is just naturally like thiss." His tail poked her cheek while murmuring the last portion.

The corners of Valyre's mouth lifted in a small smile. Grasping both hands behind her back she focused on June, bouncing on her heels slightly. "I guess when you put it like that we are both newbies, and yeah I'm also an Obsidian. Although, if you have any secret intel from being here previous years I'll take anything you can give." After a while the chatter and shuffling of those around them quieted. Seems the other students lost interest like June suggested and Valyre let it all slide off her shoulders. "I guess I am a little nervous about orientation, but it's nothing I can't handle. Back home we did things that would probably make people sweat at the thought. What about you? Are you nervous?"

She felt a buzz from her pocket and nonchalantly grabbed her phone. "Sorry, just gotta check to make sure its not family." Her gaze wondered down to the screen at the unknown number and its contents made her eyebrows pull down in confusion and concern slightly. Trying not to make June suspicious she quickly honed her emotions with another slight smile.

Nake's eyes wandered across the room watching interactions around them like a movie. So many interesting people. The excitement at meeting those other than gargoyles overwhelmed the tiny spirit. He noticed a male conversing with another student using some device to talk mid air with flame? The prospect of all they might not know hit him a little hard.

(Interaction Tattletale , June)

 

[Maskruelty]

Tryxla (Tryx) Drekavac: Student-Obsidian Brigade
Mood: Amused-Anxious-Restless
Location: Hotel Holmes
Interactions: Cian Dawnstar​

Immediately noticing how her question of a roommate affected Cian, his almost frantic signaling around the room was enough to get her to drop the subject. As he motioned to her with a shrug, Tryxla returned the gesture. If she was being honest with herself, who her roommate would be was irrelevant anyway. She was pretty easy to get along with, or so she thought, as long as she kept her temper in check. It was less of a temper, though, and more of a case of control of her frustration. As long as she didn't let her abilities loose in an agitated state, everything was sure to be just fine, "I hope," the small voice gnawed at the back of her mind.

Her train of thought was interrupted as the flames rose from Cian's screen again, quickly dissipating before forming again with words, she was certain, that differed from the ones that had just disappeared. "How difficult were the Ebony classes..?" Her naturally arched brows furrowed in thought as she read the message again. "What a loaded question," she thought to herself. Her Ebony year had probably been her most difficult, but then again her anger was nearly uncontrollable that year. Struggling with her inner demons as well as her physical demon side made focusing on her classes that much more difficult and then trying to refine her abilities on top of that. Her Ebony year was a terror to say the least.

Pulling herself from her own thoughts she focused her attention again on Cian, allowing her eyes to pass over his just long enough to gauge his intent in asking the question. Cian's unease held, unmitigated, in his almost glowing viridian eyes. With her verdict reached Tryxla smiled warmly at the young boy, widely enough to show her delicately pointed canines. "You'll do just fine, kid. The teachers are pretty amazing and I can tell you're well prepared. Just...don't get too distracted," she allowed herself to humor him with a small tinkling chuckle, daring to playfully nudge him with her elbow. Looking around the room again she realized how much more the lobby had filled just since her and Cian had been talking, the fleeting concern of her roommate flashed across her mind again, a thought which she quickly pushed aside, "It's going to be okay, nobody is going to get hurt this year," Tryx silently assured herself, or tried to at least.

 

[Pepsionne]

Cecil Ambrosius
Mood: Shocked, relieved, playful
Location: Grounds of Moonside Manor
​

As Cecil watched Mary respond to him, he noticed her expression had softened into a look of understanding. A hint of confusion lingered in her eyes as well, as though his apology was something preposterous for her to understand. A numbing wave of disbelief washed over him slowly, working its way up from his legs and into his fingertips. Even the smallest of movements felt stiff and labored. All this time he had been agonizing--had he made it all up?

“And besides, I know how important overcoming your curse is; I would argue that, more than anything, you would be jeopardizing yourself if you stopped looking for a cure. I know better than most that you're a good person, Cecil. Your curse-- Our curses-- they don't define us. They only define us when we stop seeing them as separate from ourselves."

“Our curses,” He thought to himself. The frozen feeling of disbelief began to melt from his limbs, the catalyst of warmth emanating from his chest. It seemed as though she felt a likeness to Cecil, both of them tied to something beyond the scope of their control.

He placed one hand into the pocket of his dress pants. That’s right, he had almost forgotten. In many ways, Mary’s situation was worse off than his own. Just a quick glance at the cursed angel’s mottled and disfigured wings could tell you that much. Not to mention the presence of The Red, bold and ever present, to remind both herself and others of her unfortunate fate. Where Cecil could cower and run from his curse, Mary had no choice but to live with hers and accept it. Despite that, whenever he saw her, she never failed to appear positive and happy. Even when he had approached her just recently, she easily flashed him an infectiously delighted smile. He couldn’t help but respect her for that. It was something he needed to learn as well.

“You’re right, Mary. I had been so caught up in my own worries that I never asked how others might have viewed me. I assumed the worst,” Cecil let out a light chuckle at his own shortsightedness. “I won’t give up on searching for a cure. We can look together.” He smiled at Mary, the action brightening his yellow eyes so that they seemed to almost glow through the thinly foggy air that shrouded them both.

Cecil turned to look back at Hotel Holmes. The lights were hazy and blurred in the distance, struggling to cut through the layers of fog that hung between. Given the amount of time that had passed as he muddled aimlessly through his thoughts, it had to be close to orientation. He pulled up his wrist, looking at the black leather watch that rested on it. The glass face glinted in the diffused light from the moon.

Cecil’s face twisted into a light grimace. It was ten minutes until orientation, and he hadn’t even thought up a speech. At this point, his best bet was just winging it in the moment. He could already picture Ami’s face once she realized he had no plan, left to aimlessly ramble to a sea of students. She would never let him live that down. He sighed deeply, releasing a tension that had been held tight between his shoulders. He’d need that casket of ale Ami so graciously left at his doorstep after today.

“Orientation is going to start soon, would you like to join me?” He asked Mary, peering at her with a playful gleam in his eyes. Cecil scratched his chin, the small amount of stubble that had grown since his last shave crackling with texture. “I may or may not have completely forgotten to write a speech but--we’ll see how it goes.” He flashed her a coy grin.

(Interacts: Mary, StickSlug Mentions: Tattletale , Ami)

 

[SirPremePizza]

Location: Bloody Bones, Approaching Bloodsage Port
Mood: Bored, Pensive
Time: 6pm

There he was, aboard the Bloody Bones. A ship whose name he knew, although he did not know his own. It was this exact irony that drew him here, he supposed. He put his hand in the water and recalled that his fingers should be leaving ripples behind in their wake... Though he could not remember a specific time he had experienced this.

Like his hand passing through the water's surface without a trace, so too were his memories absent. He pulled his hand back and gazed off, pondering the likelihood of discovering his own history.

Time didn't seem to pass quickly enough.

As his eyes peered into the distance, he felt eager to get started. What would he learn here? Was this a waste of time? Although, being immortal meant he had time to waste...

 

[Tattletale]

June Fairchild - Student, Obsidian Brigade
Mood: Tired, friendly, shy
Location: Hotel Holmes

"Sure, not a problem." Answered June as she scrolled down her phone screen.

Suddenly he felt self-conscious at the old flip phone he carried in his back pocket. He ought to upgrade soon, probably. Leaning against the wall again, he crossed his arms as he considered Valyre's question.

"Hm, secret intel, huh? Well, I guess it's mostly a matter of knowing who not to cross in here. You know, that with some people being literal eldritch horrors, heh. Not that there's anything wrong with that! It's just that it pays to be careful." He realized he was rambling, and coughed, collecting his thoughts.

"Anyways, if you have any problems, Neon, the Guardian, should be able to help you. Oh, or Mary, one of the Wardens. They're really nice to the students. Doctor Shadowvyne is nice too, but a bit stern, so try not to get on his bad side."

He smiled, trying to reassure her.

"But if things at home were as intense as you say, you should be okay. Where are you from, by the way?"

Interacts: Valyre ( Chrushta )
Mentions: Neon ( Toivoajarakkaus ), Mary ( StickSlug ), Dr. Shadowvyne ( Koinu )

 

[Tattletale]

Akane (Ami) - Teacher, Synth Arts
Mood: Amused, mildly impressed
Location: Hotel Holmes

"As a matter of fact, it's not only theoretical, Mr.Proctor. It can and has been done before, though rarely for binding spells. This could take a whole lecture to explain, though, and it is a bit advanced." She knew she liked this kid for a reason. Not many showed an interest (or basic competence) for the subtleties of her craft, but this could take a while. She saw his eager eyes, shining brightly with anticipation, and sighed. "I'll see what I can do."

"For the sake of brevity, I'll say that there are two ways to create such tools. The typical, and the one I'd recommend using it if you, in particular, were to attempt it, is closer to a channel for magic in nature. We call this kind of tool a Conduit. The spell is bound in the tool, but the caster still has to supply it with power. It frees the caster from having to concentrate on a formula and, if it's well crafted, shields them from any backlash should the magic get out of control. Besides, only the one who imbued the Conduit can use it." Well, it wasn't exactly brief, but it was as short as she could cut it without starting a lecture right there.

"The second one is independent. It contains both the formula and the power, as well as some form of regaining that power, be it through ambient magic, electricity, or even converting raw materials, though that last one is usually very inefficient. This type of tool is called a Container. They can be keyed to different users and can be used by those without great magical capabilities, like me, but the output tends to be much lower because one cannot transfer their own magic to the tool. Besides, the material cost is higher, and the crafting must be perfect or the magic will fade in time." Ugh, she hated having to leave stuff out, like why the magic would fade at all, but that was the gist of it.

"Given that the kind of celestial creatures worth sealing usually posses great raw strength, a Conduit is better for the purpose of controlling them. However, the benefits they offer in this situation are marginal. I'd recommend mastering a normal binding or transmutation spell. It'll serve you well and you'll be able to use it in less specific situations too." Ami stretched, having finished her improvised lecture. There was more, of course, but that'd have to wait a while.

"In any case, do not try this alone, Mr. Proctor, or the Prett- Ahem. Or Professor Ambrosius and I will be very disappointed." Ami grinned a smile that was all sharp teeth, leaning closer to the young wizard. "And probably kick your ass, you know how he gets when he's angry. " She backed up, winking lazily.

"Anyways, talk to him if you want a demonstration. I'd be happy to show you and I'll need an expert magical theorist. I could do the arcane part myself, but he's faster and I feel like making him work a bit."

"Hm." She added. "Don't tell him I said that. Anything else, Mr. Proctor?"

Interact: Alistair ( Pepsionne ).
Mention: Cecil.

 

[Chrushta]

Valyre Hassan: Student, Obsidian Brigade
Mood: friendly, concerned
Form: Human
Location: Hotel Holmes​

Val slid her phone into her back pocket, noting that she would look into it later. Her mind was buzzing a bit at the possibility of the text coming from a nefarious source rather than a joke. Either way, if it comes down to it she can hold her own and show them why most of her clan stayed out of her way. Watching June lean against the wall she noted that he seemed to be a little more relaxed than a few moments ago. "Thanks for the information. It makes me feel less like a stick. Like you said, with the variety of people here I just feel like it would be good to know who to not piss off." Or piss off for a little fun she added in her head. Nake's tail jabbed her in warning as the grubby little snake openly read her thoughts.

"I guess with time I will get better at knowing who is who around here." Valyre gestured around at the student body trying not to let her eyes linger for too long on one specific individual. Although there is someone who looks like a badass demon in the corner that she wanted to gaze at for longer. Symbols she's never seen ran along his body in flames. So cool. Coming back to June, she continued. "Your last question is a little hard to answer honestly. My clan were pretty much nomadic until about two or three years ago when lovely old dad decided to settle down in Germany" Her words suggested one thing while her sigh afterward hinted otherwise. "We never really mingled with those outside our race though so there's a lot of social ques and such I only know about from literature or other gargoyles, like my friend Valhir. I still don't see the benefit of staying in one place long."

With a sheepish smile she rubbed the back of her head a little embarrassed. "Sorry if I just unloaded too much. I get chatty sometimes. Anyways where are you from and how did you end up here?"

(interaction Tattletale , June)

 

[Rugi]

Mercurius Herms – Messenger (Character Sheet)





Location: Between the Moonside Manor and Bloodsage Port



Mood: surprised, stunned, confused





Mercury watched the events without saying a word. His eyes might be covered by those huge glasses, but the facial expression, especially his arched eyebrows and half-open mouth, showed his confusion.

“Okay… I heard about that supposed “emergency” too, but I have no clue either…” said while looking towards the thing that had come out of the armor a few seconds ago.

“Hey little girl, it will be better for you to head to Orientation. It’s almost time and some of the teachers don’t like students to get late… well, you probably know that, since I think I saw you last year here in the Campus… Nice to see you though! See you later, and hope you have a good start of course!” said to the student girl while saying Neon to follow him to the port in order to search for students. Before their departure, Mercury turned back to the girl. “Although, if you really wanted to come with us, I will not make responsible if you arrive late…”

Once they start their march towards the port, Mercury approached the giant armor and whispered to... him? Her? Doesn’t matter.

“By the way… what the heck, dude? That was oddly gross. Well, really not so much, but wasn't that a student? What the hell was she doing inside of you?” Mercury looked at his phone "Crap, we are running out of time!"

-------------------------------------------
"Interactions and mentions"

Mercury talks to Neon ( Toivoajarakkaus ) and Jezzabelle ( Xcelgamer )

 

[Pepsionne]

Alastair Proctor | Cerise Drake
Mood: Intrigued, analytical | Mood: Observant
Location: Lobby of Hotel Holmes​

Alastair listened to Ami’s lecture earnestly, his eyes never leaving her face for a second. Students continued to mill around them, some occasionally bumping into him and uttering quick apologies. Despite the noisy atmosphere, the air warming from the sheer amount of bodies packed into the hotel lobby, Alastair’s attention did not waver.

"Anyways, talk to him if you want a demonstration. I'd be happy to show you and I'll need an expert magical theorist. I could do the arcane part myself, but he's faster and I feel like making him work a bit."

He nodded at the Professor, his mind churning over the information she had handed him. In terms of longevity and independence, the second option seemed the most viable for his own personal ambitions. Power wasn’t a problem for him, it’s not like he was aiming to imprison any angels. Cherry was enough so far as familiars went.

“I’ll definitely run this by him,” Alastair said. “Although he may not agree to some of the experiments if the magic is too strong. For--well you know what for.”

He touched a hand to his pale chin in thought, the faint touch leaving a chilling essence. “I’ll get back to you once I work through some of the knowledge you hinted at, and what path I find I need to walk down.”

Cherry remained silent through the exchange between the two. She had a feeling she knew the goal that Alastair had latched on so tightly to. A grounding spell, not for celestial or beastly. For spiritual. The mention of the other two were most likely to mask his true intentions from Professor Akane, save she had any objections to his use of the knowledge gifted. Knowing Alastair, he would’ve stumbled across this information on his own anyways, this was just an easier shortcut.

She could already sense the wheels turning in his mind on how he could utilize not one, but both of the methods in tandem. He usually worked like that, running down pathways, hitting dead end after dead end with a methodical rhythm before finally finding the clear path through.

Alastair gave the Oni a polite smile. “Thank you, I’ll be on my way to orientation now. I’m sure it’ll start any minute.”

With that, he turned silently and maneuvered through the crowd, his movements barely stirring the air. Cherry turned back to look at the Professor curiously, her tongue flicking out into the growing distance between them. It’ll be interesting to see how this experiment works out.

(Interacts: Tattletale Ami)

 

[StickSlug]

Maribel

Mentions:
Pepsionne

Location:
Outside (near Moonside Manor)

Mood:
Delighted, at ease

Mary's face was full of warmth as she regarded Cecil. It was a relief that he didn't react poorly to her statement; she always had a nagging fear in the back of her mind that one of her preaching moments would be met with irritation or annoyance. It comforted her deeply that he had reacted favorably. Her arms automatically reached around her back, knitting together behind her in contentment. The air felt much warmer now, although no shift in temperature occurred. It was almost like the nipping drafts that came in the fog weren't her focus any longer.

Mary's own eyes seemed to glow as well, although more in an emotional sense then a literal sense. They seemed permanently removed of light, although that didn't stop them from being alight with feeling. In fact, she even liked this about her current self. While she had lost that light that most angels had, she retained some ounce of her own light. The thought was comforting; she was not fully defined by the 'light' that she had been given before, and she felt that was something to be proud of.

Back to the matter at hand, Mary nodded at Cecil's words. "Assuming the worst is very easy; it's realizing that's the hard part. I understand your struggle," Mary said with certainty obvious in her tone. His invitation sent a little jolt of joy through her, although she attempted to quell it so as not to seem strange. "I would love to search with you," she easily replied, excited at the prospect. While they had searched together before, it had been an unspoken agreement. She liked that it was out in the open now.

Her wings appeared to lift a little higher. Today was starting off well. Any chill from the fog barely bothered her now, and she felt like she was floating without using her wings at all. She reasoned that going into hibernation when she did was poor timing; there was a bit of unresolved business (specifically with Cecil) that she wanted to deal with. Now that she'd dealt with it, though, she felt only ease. Except...

No. She didn't want to think about what happened last night. Not right now...

Forgetting the thought, Mary immersed herself back into reality with Cecil. Fondly, she responded to his question. "I would love that. I'm sure you'll make a good impression on the students, speech or not. You... Ah, have a way with words," she finished, her voice innocent and sincere. She meant it as a compliment, as she held him in high regard, but she didn't realize other implications that her statement might have.

Smiling still, she was ready to follow him should he start toward Orientation. "I have written a bare-minimum speech, to make sure I don't make a fool of myself somehow. I hope that's enough," she admitted, feeling a bit embarrassed at her lack of effort.

coded by weldherwings.

 

[Koinu]

Location: Bloody Bones // Atmosphere: Foggy, Damp, Chilly, Salty // Time: Sometime Before Orientation

​

Bloodsage Port was third to home. The scent of siren rot and seafoam hung heavy on the air, fog so thick you could slice it with a blade. It was not unknown to find bodes impaled on the rocks below: victims to those who stepped wrong and off the creaky, decayed wood planks. Bloody Bones was within minutes of being anchored, so Rawhead retrieved a cigarette from his coat pocket. The cigarette case he kept them in was vintage sterling silver and made the 1930’s. It had been a gift from an old colleague—one he planned to visit with before his next departure.

It’s been too long…

He was married to the Sea and Nocturne Sanctum felt like an awaiting Mistress. He cupped around the tip of his cigarette and ignited a small flame with the flick of his thumb and middle finger. The sensation of warm hickory and salt filled his mouth. He swallowed in deep and slowly just before puffs of smoke steamed from his nostrils, then lips. The voyage to Nocturne Sanctum had been a chaotic one indeed; just how he craved it. The calm, the smooth, the in and out had never satisfied Rawhead. And he was not alone in his desire for splendidly wild adventures. Nothing could put Bloody Bones in a retched mood as a simple journey could. Perhaps this was why the two had been so drawn to one another? Both lived for the challenge, the bloodshed.

Time to get the show on the road… He had watched the vanishing horizon ling enough and flicked the butt overboard. Rawhead tidied up his collar, grabbed a new cigarette made his way to the lower deck. His passengers who were not Nocturne Sanctum bound had dwindled at this point. He passed by a very desolate looking young man. But, he did not have time to chat. He hurried to the further recesses of the ship… to find a very bloodied and confused Angel among a couple of captor cronies. Rawhead entered the corridor and placed a hand on a hip, “Time’s about up, mates. Have you decided what you’re doing with the Angel?”

The ship roared ever so lightly. Rawhead tilted his head to the side, as if listening to a voice, “Oh. Zuriel.” He looked down at the Angel. The creature was definitely in bad shape. The ship shook again. The Captain shrugged, “well, mates, sounds like I’ll be taking this prey of yours.” The air in the room seemed to shrink. “I hope that won’t be a problem.”

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Interaction: Zuriel/Cronies Toivoajarakkaus
Mentions: Ghost SirPremePizza

 

[Pepsionne]

Cecil Ambrosius
Mood: Amused, Amiable, Happy
Location: En route to Hotel Holmes​

The delight in Mary’s face was evident as she responded to his resolution. A feeling of relief breezed through his chest. He hadn’t messed things up too badly, at least not yet. She crossed her hands behind her back as she began to follow alongside him, an endearing act that sparked a look of amusement from Cecil.

"I would love that. I'm sure you'll make a good impression on the students, speech or not. You... Ah, have a way with words. I have written a bare-minimum speech, to make sure I don't make a fool of myself somehow. I hope that's enough,"

“Ah--yeah, if you say so. You’re probably the first person to tell me that." A brief sheepishness flashed in his expression. "Regardless, I think I’ll be fine whipping something up last minute.” Cecil leaned in towards Mary slightly, as if the information he was about to share was top secret. “The key is to give your speech towards the end of orientation, but not too close to the end. You want to hit that sweet spot where students just start to lose their attention spans and drift off or fall asleep” He gestured into the air, letting his hand flatten to represent the flitting attention dissipating in the fog. “Perfect time to go up. They won’t remember a word you said. I know this from experience” He laughed, the sound joyous. Any resemblance to his state earlier seemed to have melted away.

Cecil pulled out his cigarette case, flicking open the metal latch expertly. The metallic click hit the air sharply. He pulled out one of the thin black cigarettes and placed it in between his lips, the orange color from the lighter cupping his soft features with a gentle glow. Once lit, he took a puff of the cigarette, the smoke trailing behind him and quickly mixing into the grey haze of the fog as he walked.

The winding staircase of Hotel Holmes appeared in the distance, its shape still too murky to make out in clear detail. Cecil looked down at the crunching gravel beneath his feet as he walked.

“The students this year,” He began, “They seem well intended. Ambitious.” The subtle sounds of the night filled the silence in the absence of his voice. He took another drag of his cigarette. “Alastair specifically. That boy is different. A level of determination I’ve rarely seen outside of my family. We’ll see how he--and the rest of the class--measure up this year. I’m all for a surprise.”

Cecil paused, casting a sideways glance at Mary. He was probably rambling a bit too much about a topic difficult for Mary to relate to. Continuing on in this direction would probably guarantee her lost interest and an awkward weight for the remainder of their walk.

“Anything you’re looking forward to in order to shake up the new academic year?” He asked, his eyes filled with a playful curiosity.

(Interacts: StickSlug Maribel)

 

[Toivoajarakkaus]

The Wisdom of the Blind, Zuriel the Betrayed
Approaching Bloodsage Port on the Bloody Bones.

After revealing his name to his captors, they fell into silence. Disturbing him every once in a while to check the state of his eyes and keep him awake. The little flickers of light being revealed by the peeling of his bandages gave no clues to his location and little about his captors. Though the sensation of twisted vines and knarled oak flesh that brushed against his cheek made him consider a nymph was the first aid provider of the two. The other's cold hands that sapped away the warmth from his arm when it shook him, accompanied by the smell of garbage that had been left in to bake for days made what little was left of conscious thought drift to the word Wendigo. May it be the blood loss or his body hitting its stress limit, Zuriel found himself drifting among the rocking of the ship. The ball of nausea in his stomach becoming lost in the monotonous flow of the sea. Then. The angel heard it. Footsteps. Whether it was because it was an imperfect sound among the repeat of waves sloshing against the boat or his senses still hotwired to panic, the Archangel lifted his head just as the person approached. The two cronies startling at this person halting their routine.

“Time’s about up, mates. Have you decided what you’re doing with the Angel?”

The man brought the scent of salt, wind, and cigarette with him, flushing away the stench of hot, rotting flesh. His presence dominated the small room, and the Wendigo being the braver of the two spoke.

"Probably take him to the nurse. Get a containment collar or something and make him a servent after that. I know. Sensitive information and that. But-"

The Wendigo's claws swiping against the edge of the bloody blindfold sucked the remaining color from Zuriel's face.

"-Don't need eyes to clean floors."

The hot flash of fear gave the injured angel the energy to scoot away from the horror's touch, sending a new trail of blood to leak from behind the bandage as the wound throbbed from adrenaline. The angel was forced to bite his lip to prevent himself from dry heaving as the ball of anxiety returned with vengeance. The Wendigo scoffing at his captive now 'staring' at the opposite wall.

“Oh. Zuriel.”

The mention of his name from the man had the angel twisting his head back in his direction. He had told his captors his name, but none had uttered it in the man's presence. The growing fear of what this man could do, overpowering the urge to vomit.

“well, mates, sounds like I’ll be taking this prey of yours.”

It just seemed like Zuriel's day just kept getting better and better. The air in the room seemed to be pushed out by the man's own scent. Mixing well with the smell of damp wood, as if the ship itself was aiding in the man's show of authority and power. If the angel's thoughts hadn't been occupied with the threat of danger, he might have pondered if the ship actually was. The Wendigo had possessively dug his hand into the Archangel's flesh, his claws puncturing the skin through the torn cloth of Zuriel's clothes above the knee. If it wasn't for the pain radiating from the captive's face, he most likely would have screamed. The cold hiss of the beast near his ear made screaming even more tempting.

“I hope that won’t be a problem.”

The nymph untangled the Wendigo's hand from the angel's knee and by the silence that followed, had convinced their fellow captor to back down in his claim. Zuriel could hear them slink out, low, and submissive. The injury to his knee would be painful, but it was ultimately small, pathetic, and not enough to send the Archangel over the edge. But there were more pressing matters. Like who was this mysterious man... And what did he have planned for the angel...

Interaction: Rawhead, Koinu​

 

[Koinu]

Location: Bloody Bones // Atmosphere: Foggy, Damp, Chilly, Salty // Time: Sometime Before Orientation

​

The Captain did not turn his head to watch the group leave the Angel behind. They had paid for their passage to Nocturne Sanctum, therefore Rawhead needed nothing more from them. Once they settled into Bloodsage Port, Bloody Bones’ crew members knew to escort any travelers off the ship. He returned his attention to Zuriel. He let the cig fall from his lips and slid the ball off his boot across it while he reached for another cigarette from his chest pocket. Flame ignited from a flick of his fingers and he breathed in deep. His footsteps were hollow as he closed the gap between himself and the captor, “well… it would appear you’re stuck with me for a while.” His voice was course, ragged and held the chime of something far from gentle or of human nature, despite his appearance.

Rawhead believed he had been making his rounds with his passengers, but the ship had corrected him on that. Coincidence was not something that existed aboard the Bloody Bones. Anyone who took passage, laid eyes upon, or even heard of the Bloody Bones was destined to without realizing. So what had truly brought Zuriel there? And why did the Bloody Bones want Rawhead to interfere? The weight of the cigarette box suddenly felt heavy. The Captain looked to the ground, as if listening to rats beneath the boards. He knelt down on own knee, resting his forearm along it as he extended his arm to offer the Angel a puff, “I take it these…” he nodded with his chin toward Zuriel, “…wounds are not primarily the work of those cronies. So, tell me... what was?”

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Interaction: Zuriel/Cronies Toivoajarakkaus Toivoajarakkaus

 

[Toivoajarakkaus]

The Wisdom of the Blind, Zuriel the Betrayed
Approaching Bloodsage Port on the Bloody Bones.

“well… it would appear you’re stuck with me for a while.”

Between the Devil and the Big Blue Sea... If this man was the sea... then who was the devil... Fear gave energy to tense as what was now the angel's handler approached. Zuriel could feel his withdrawn wings ruffling beneath his vessel's skin, simply another painful sting to add to his current agony. And when what must be the Captain of the ship leaned down, bringing the scent of a fresh burning cigarette, it took a conscious effort not to cower and bow his head. Instead the Archangel did his best to face the man head-on. Shaking his head politely at the offered smoke and intertwining his rope-bound hands.

“I take it these…”

The captain's clothes shifted, he must be pointing out something. Most likely gesturing towards the most prominent injuries.

“…wounds are not primarily the work of those cronies. So, tell me... what was?”

The Archangel visible tensed. If he had fangs, he'd bare them. His fear was swallowed up by an unexplainable wave of anger. Red... Hot... Burning... Then it was gone with a sigh. The captive falling limp like a puppet, bowing in a mixture of exhaustion and submission. The presence of the man had broken the dam of numbness that the angel had tried to build around the accident. The Devil and the Big Blue Sea...

"It was supposed to be a quick visit to the human world. A celebration planned by my siblings to congratulate me on rising ranks. That was my first two warnings. Archangels don't come down to the human realm since Bible times, most giving guardianship and messager jobs to lower angels. And my siblings never really liked me since my creation. My last one was when they stopped talking as we walked down an alleyway. I didn't even know what hit me until the contents of the bottle began burning... Passed out from the pain. Woke up to those two trying to wash out the Demon Blood with just regular water and pick out glass shards."

Zuriel saw no reason to lie to the man. Lying wasn't going to get him off the boat. Lying wasn't going to fix what happened. He made a small gesture with his bound hands to the soaked bandage, looking upward at what he hoped was the captain's face.

"You're welcome to confirm the injuries, but I can't guarantee you sir that the sight will be pretty."

Interaction: Rawhead, Koinu​

 

[Tattletale]

Akane (Ami) - Teacher, Synth Arts
Mood: Nostalgic, wistful, eager
Location: Hotel Holmes

Ami's expression softened at the mention of Cecil's... Condition. It wasn't something anyone brought up lightly, and she supposed it hurt the student almost as much as it did his mentor. She sighed.

"Don't worry, Mr. Proctor, the magic involved is mostly theoretical. He'll be alright." She said softly as the kid left.

The Oni watched him for a second as he walked away, pondering on the young wizard's teacher and the curse he carried. The man was brilliant in his field, but something told Ami that he truly ached for recovery, the possibility of using his talents freely. She understood that.

She even had been looking into the curse, trying to find something that helped, but magic wasn't her specialty. Better leave that to more gifted minds: she'd have to be content with being there for the Pretty Boy. Maybe the occasional drink. Ami sighed again.

No use dwelling on it. She caught June's eyes from the other side of the room and nodded reassuringly before turning and started heading towards orientation.

She had work to do.

Interacts: Alistair ( Pepsionne )
Mentions: Cecil

 

[Tattletale]

June Fairchild - Student, Obsidian Brigade
Mood: Tired, curious, friendly
Location: Hotel Holmes

June grinned, a more honest smile than the polite one he'd been wearing.

"Ah, a wanderer. I can respect that. I moved around for years too, before coming here. Wales, mostly, but I traveled all the United Kingdom. Would have continued too, but my Master found me and brought me to the Campus." He gestured to the tall, red-skinned woman who was talking to another student. Huh. Proctor had seen through her hiding. June would have to keep up.

"She can give you a hand too, but be careful, she's, uh, fickle? Kinda scary, to be honest, I never know what she's thinking. I hear she has been in some serious brawls before." He looked again and saw Master Akane watching him and nodding, a small smile painted on her face. Did she hear him? He shivered.

"A-anyways we should probably get going. Orientation starts soon." he paused, checking the small watch on his wrist before picking up his bag. "Unless you want to stay for a while and look around, that's cool too! And don't worry about rambling, I do it too. Heh. Well, in any case, see you there. A pleasure, Valyre. Nake."

With a last nod and a smile, he shoved his hands on his pockets and started walking towards Orientation.

Interacts: Valyre ( Chrushta )
Mentions: Alistair ( Pepsionne ), Akane

 

[Dawnstar]

(sorry RPN stopped giving me notifications)

Cian Graves - Dullahan - Onyx Brigade
Location - Hotel Holmes Lobby
Interact - Tryxla Drekavac Maskruelty ​

Cian's eyes eyes followed tracing and following where Tyrx's had been to also check out the crowd of people here, definitely a lot more than there had been. Even the demon-looking synth teacher was on the floor. Yet before he could really study any of the other students Tyxla stopped hesitating and responded.

He.. Didn't look the most convinced. Sensing she perhaps was not 100% keen on her own time as a Ebony just by her expression and previously mentioned hesitation. CIan certainly didn't feel prepared for his future years here, that was for sure! Baring the physical classes like the Carnage Artes which he excelled in, Cian otherwise sucked to put be bluntly.
Despite his attempts to learn magic of all kinds, he's been a pretty lousy mage thus far only having a natural affinity for curses (a type of magic he doesn't even want to be good at in the first place), his study of history and lore also going without much success, and only half of the mortal studies actually interest him. ..Yeah its not great. Synth artes were fine he guessed, but still he didn't feel great about his grades.
Yet despite all that he lied and gave a tentative nod to the senior students response, trying not to be outwardly negative despite his body language projecting otherwise an aura of uncertainty. Words flickering as cold flames into the air from his cartoon-sticker ridden phone. "Yeah. If you say so.."

Quickly Cian's chain of thought is interrupted as Tryx playfully elbows the otherwise distracted preteen. His viridian eyes almost flaring up, full of confusion for the brief moment. He lowered his brow, and then playfully elbowed the half-demon back. While it's definitely hard to tell for sure, Tryx could perhaps sense or imagine a almost cunning smile under all the layers of bandages as he does so. Nimbly with just a single stroke of his right foot he rolled himself back a just out of arm's reach, leaned forwards as if ready to dart or dodge to one side. His eyes lock on her, as if to almost childishly challenge her to try that again.
He had no idea if she'd be game or not, but the least he could do is hope for some entertainment. Plus maybe she'd enjoy a distraction even if childish, waiting around for people to gather wa boring! At least he thought so.

 

[Maskruelty]

Tryxla Drekavac- Student, Obsidian Brigade


Mood: Distracted, playful
Location: Hotel Holmes- Lobby
Interacts: Cian Dawnstar
​

As the young boy rolled backwards on his skates, daring Tryx to chase him it seems, she raised an eyebrow playfully back at him. Her wings, that had been resting almost unseen against her back, gave a little flutter in anticipation. Tryxla's body twitched as she prepared to run after Cian. With another glance around the crowded lobby though, she quickly reconsidered, there were too many eyes that may fall on her. Then there was the chance that they would get in trouble, just the thought of being singled out by one of the professors, as an Obsidian, was not the way she needed to start her year out. "Sorry, Cian," the playful glint in her eyes fading, "Maybe next time. We best make our way to orientation." Her slender arms folded carefully across her chest and her eyes fell to the floor as she inadvertently tried to make herself as small as possible.

"I'll catch you later, kid." Her voice was barely above a whisper as she moved around Cian, who she could only imagine was sorely disappointed, and made her way through the crowd with what could be considered a careful tip-toe. "You made the right decision, what if you got carried away...what if one of the profs called you in. You know how they make you look them in the eye when they're berating you. Cian will get over it, you made the right decision. Be good Tryx, Be....Good...."

 

[Koinu]

Location: Bloody Bones // Atmosphere: Foggy, Damp, Chilly, Salty // Time: Sometime Before Orientation

​

As the Archangel explained what had led him to his current predicament, the Captain was silent. His mask shielded any expression he may have had. Whether he was truly listening or not, felt remorse or humor, was unreadable. When Zuriel declined the smoke, Rawhead returned the cigarette to his own lips and inhaled. Rawhead and Bloodybones had experienced much together—so much that either could remember life before one another—but Angel’s showing such cruelty to one of their own in such a way to leave for dead? They had seen Heavenly Warriors smite children of demons and horror. The walls of the ship rattled ever so slightly.

"... Passed out from the pain. Woke up to those two trying to wash out the Demon Blood with just regular water and pick out glass shards."

Zuriel saw no reason to lie to the man. Lying wasn't going to get him off the boat. Lying wasn't going to fix what happened. He made a small gesture with his bound hands to the soaked bandage, looking upward at what he hoped was the captain's face.

"You're welcome to confirm the injuries, but I can't guarantee you sir that the sight will be pretty."

He flipped his coat to wrap the side of his hip as he reached his left hand behind himself to retrieve his knife. The weapon was something of ancient times—ethereal—corroded with green rust and barnacles. The Captain, who did appear fairly human, flicked the blade between Zuriel’s eyes to the peak of his hair, slicing the bandages. Hidden behind his mask, Rawhead narrowed his eyes down at the Archangel. The Angel's 'brothers' had most definitely done a number on him. "Tsk..."

He then took the blade to Zuriel’s neck and tapped it against his skin, “I’m going to cut you free. You show me the wounds and I’ll consider getting you proper aide and a change of clothes.”

That being said, the Pirate did as he said he would, breaking through the bindings. The cigarette hung from his partially open mouth. Shk! went the last tie and he stood, motioning down at the angel with his knife, “The wounds. Let’s see them.” What to do with the Angel? His condition would certainly be a deciding factor. He knew he could get a pretty penny for a Archangel. But he did have his own loyalties to certain residents of Nocturne Sanctum.

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Interaction: Zuriel/Cronies Toivoajarakkaus