Fantasy Crimson Moon Chronicles | IC

[JuniperBoi]

Chapter 0, Act 1
New Moon, New Class

Quibbles simm DuckPrince Chaotic Poem Alien222​

---

The sun was setting, an omen that night will soon arrive and that the creatures that lurk in its darkness shall emerge from the shadows. However, this night is special. As it is the beginning of a new school year at Lunaris Academy. A place where all manner of supernatural beings can learn and grow in a contained area. The headmaster, Oswald Mason was in his office filing out paperwork on the various student enrolling at the academy. As he was going over the documents he heard a knock on the door. “Come in.” The man said in deep somber voice. The other person entered the room, instantly illuminating the once dimly lit office of the headmaster, much to his dismay. “Hello Gregory.” He said with a sigh. “I assume that preparations are finished on schedule?”

Gregory nodded enthusiastically in response. “Yes Brothe-I mean Headmaster. I briefed all the faculty members on today’s agenda and orientation. Everything is ready for the arrival of the new students.”
Headmaster Mason nodded slightly in approval. “You know Gregory, you don’t have to be so formal with me. I am your brother after all. We’ve known each other for over a millennia. You don’t have to refer to me as Headmaster all the time.” He said with a reassuring smile on his face.

“Ah! I’m sorry brother! It’s just first day jitters, that’s all. I just don’t want to mess up after what happened to the last Vice Headmaster…” Gregory’s face drooped down a little despite his cheerful demeanor being unchanged. The room dimmed a little, reflecting his mood. Oswald noticed this and walked towards his brother in an attempt to comfort him. “Do not worry my dear brother. I do not intend to make that mistake ever again. Now let’s get a move on, Orientation won’t start itself.” Gregory nodded and the two brothers exited the office, ready to start the new school year.

---

Malik Anderson
Location: Academy Entrance
Mood: Nervous
Interaction: N/A
Mentions N/A

---

Malik was packing his things to take at the academy, frantically putting them this his bag without much thought. Malik has never been to a boarding school, much less a supernatural boarding school. He didn’t know exactly what he was getting himself into, but it was already too late to back out now. To him, this could be his only chance to find someplace to belong. Something like that is too good to pass up. Once he packed the last few things in his bag, he headed downstairs where his adopted father was waiting for him, the letter in his hand. “Alright. I think have everything ready. Does it say anything about where the academy is?”

Malik’s father looked at the letter, squinting to find anything. However, he only responded with a shrug. “I don’t see anything about a location or if any transportation would be provided.” Malik father sighed. “A school, no matter how secretive it is, should be transparent about stuff like this. Especially to parents.”

Malik took the letter and started to look for anything out of the ordinary. He soon noticed something written in the bottom: “The blood of the supernatural is the key to the Academy”. Upon reading this, he immediately got an idea. He grabbed a needle and pricked his thumb, causing it to bleed. He then pressed his thumb onto the letter. This confused Malik’s father, but before he could say anything, the letter in Malik’s hand turned into sand. Leaving both of them confused. Suddenly, the sand spinning into a circle and a beam of light began emanating from the circle of sand. Confusion then turned to awestruck, as the two witnessed this sight. Malik then turned to his father. “I guess this is goodbye for now. I’m really gonna miss you.” He said with a sorrowful smile.

Malik’s father responded with a similar expression. “Me too kid. I hope you find what you’re looking for there.”

Malik tightly embraced his adoptive father, a bit teary eyed. “Thank you for everything, Dad.”

“You’re welcome, Son.”

Once they broke away from the hug, Malik took all his bags and headed into the portal. Within an instant he disappeared into the light. The light from the portal also disappeared a few seconds after, leaving a pile of dust.

Malik left the portal as quickly as he entered it, finding himself in front the academy entrance gates. He looked around to see other various soon-to-be students exiting from similar portals. Malik couldn’t help but feel small compared to the mass scale that was the supernatural world, but nonetheless he had to remain steadfast. No matter what.

 

[Chaotic Poem]

Reynira
Write your song, one verse at a time.
Location: Entrance to the school | Mood: Playful | Interaction: None​

---

Packing was always the worst part of moving. Reynira had hired a moving company to haul her boxes to a storage unit, but sorting through her belongings was still exhausting. She always found herself reliving old memories—objects tied to people, places, and lives she'd moved through. Friends she’d abandoned or who had long since forgotten her. Some were even dead now.

She had said her goodbyes to her current roommates after one last board game night, crashing on the couch in a heap of laughter and snacks. They were sweet college kids, clinging to their master’s degrees. Rey might’ve stayed longer if not for her acceptance into this new school. She liked it here. Leaving earlier than planned brought a twinge of sadness.

None of that surfaced with her friends. None of them knew who she truly was. How could they? She couldn’t exactly tell them she was a two-hundred-year-old werefox. And it would’ve been more than awkward to sing the folksongs written about her father. No—it was better that they only knew Rey. not Renira.

Her small room echoed hollowly as she snapped her suitcase shut. All that remained was her and the bag on the bare floor. Rey scanned the empty walls and quiet corners, remembering the warmth, the laughter, and a few good nights spent here. She always made friends. She just didn’t always keep them.

She stood, pulling up the suitcase handle, and the room echoed again in its emptiness. Rey smiled as she looked down at the letter in her hand—her acceptance into the school. The clue had been simple enough; she’d solved it the moment she read it. Not difficult for someone as cunning as her.

With a foxlike smirk, Rey pressed a finger to her mouth and bit down until blood welled. She let it drip onto the letter. As expected, the air shifted. Magic stirred. Sand spun around the parchment, the swirling pulse of old, sharp enchantments. Her grin widened. A new adventure. Finally.

She’d already thought through the risks. This place would be different. More difficult. She’d be surrounded by others whose abilities might challenge or even counter hers. But that only made it more exciting. Rey had never feared being disliked. And if things got to be too much? She’d just leave. Escape was always easy.

The portal widened at last, large enough for her and her bag. Without a backward glance, she stepped through. Nothing waited for her on this side of the magic portal. But on the other—knowledge, new friendships, maybe even a few worthy hardships. Reynira was ready.

She emerged into crisp morning air, the scent of forest earth rich on the breeze. The school loomed ahead, strange and welcoming. Around her, other students blinked into existence from swirling portals. Looking around, Rey noticed that a few students appeared normal like her, others looked completely foreign. She decided, for now, to keep her ears and tail tucked away behind illusion magic. She’d never been able to shift them, but hiding them had always worked well enough. She was grateful she could appear human. That, she suspected, might be useful in the days to come.
​

 

[simm]

The hotel room rumbled deeply, the floor of the sheep's room shaking as they gripped onto their sachel tightly, legs trying to balance themselves properly as they struggled to stay still. The shaking ground below them started to glow with blood markings, a star shape starting to form. Though no, it wasn't exactly a star now was it? Their face contorted to one of annoyance as they clicked their tongue, already knowing exactly what was happening as the place around them grew redder, suddenly finding themselves in the depths of hell. A place they've learned all too well.

It was exactly how one would think hell would look like, though, a bit more barren to say the least. The ground was red, a crimson red. One that was joked to be soaked with the blood of sinners, though that was nothing but a myth as only the most worst of the mortal race ever found themselves in this particular level. The other floors of hell though? Omnia wouldn't be surprised if it truly was blood that made the ground the way it was. But once again, that could not be true, for okce you look above, the very same grounds entrapped everyone under, as if it were a cave.

The horned teen who had just spawned into here turned their head towards the man that caused their unwanted arrival, who sat on a large throne that was plated with gold was set on a higher ground. A wide, toothy grin was plastered across his face as his eyes gleamed as he saw the lamb before them, knees plated on the ground as the white haired figure sighed in exhaution.

"Omnniiii!! My dearest little child, how wooonderful of you to come and see your papa!!" He exclaimed out, now somehow right infront of the tired sheep, swinging them around as he held them easily, being far more talled and stronger than the yellow eyed soon to be student.

"I didn't. You summoned me." They replied with the most monotone voice you could possibly hear, a deadpan adorning their face as they let the king of hell treat them like a doll, hugging omnia and swinging them around.

"Oh come on now, don't be such a downer! We both know that you missed my presence!" He announced, finally putting down omnia and dusting them off slightly, his hand on their head as he continued on with his useless rambling.

"Anyway, your dear old papa here has a liiiittle task for you, one that'll prove to be the most utmost of fun!" He continued, snapping his fingers as a letter appeared in his hand. He handed over the letter to the wary sheep, their eyes skeptical as they ran across the paper, dragging their hand across their face once they finished through it.

"...you want me to attend school?" They uttered, looking up at the profusely nodding devil in front of them.

"Mmhmm! It'll be just the right thing for a growing lamb just like yourself!" He said with yet another smile of his.

"And you're choosing to tell me this just now, the day of?" Omnia continued, somehow bewildered by the concept as if satan hadn't done worse before.

"I thought it'd be a fun little surprise for you! And besides, you always keep all of your belongings in that bag of yours, so it's not like you would have prepared either way." He explained, pointing towards the leather sachel that omnia had on their shoulder. He wasn't wrong, as omnia always traveled and was never in one place, everything of theirs was always placed into that one singular shoulder bag. It wasn't that they barely had anything with them -though that was partially true- but the main reason being is that it was limitless. Something they had gained from a trade of theirs with lucifer, the almighty himself. What did they give him? It wa- [REDACTED: NO TRADE IS ALLOWED TO BE SPOKEN OF WITHOUT THE OTHER BARGAINERS PERMISSION]

Omnia sighed for what seemed to be the upteenth time as they looked at the paper once more, then back to lucy, then back to the paper.

"Wait, were you the one who created this?" They asked, lucy in turn cocking his horned head in questioning.

"Hm? Why do you say that?" He asked, genuinly surprised with omnia's conclusion.

"It's asking for my blood. Blood lucy, blood." They emphasized, flicking the paper slightly as the realization dawned on lucifer, realising the meaning behind omnia's words. Lucifer had a peculiar relationship with blood, it being one of his most prominent asks whenever he makes a deal with the annoyed teen, for whatever reason it may be. Omnia was far too familiar with blood sacrifice rituals, and not in a good way. It wasn't like lucifer would comfort them about it, or even reduce it. Like hell would he ever do that.

"Not everything that needs blood is by me you kno-" before he could even finish his sentance, omnia was already rummaging through their bag, quickly pulling out a dagger as they slashed their palm, blood gushing out as it drenched the letter.

"H-HEY! Just a little prick would have sufficed omni!" He yelled out in panic, the teen in question not caring even a slight bit as a small, mumbled 'oh' left their lips, the action now irreversable. The truth was, omnia was far too used to being asked for blood that it was an automatic response, one they didn't even think of really. Omnia wasn't exactly smart, sure not dumb, but it would have definitely taken them a few minutes- heck, maybe even hours to figure out what the letter meant. But with just the mention of blood, it was like clock work for omnia. It was the assumption that they always turned to.

As the letter withered away into sand, omnia was left to wonder what was the point in even complying with the devil's whimsy wishes. This is what you get when you don't think twice, but there was barely any time for the bleeding omnia to continue on with their thoughts as the sand started to swirl around them and lucy, a beam of light fron within them as the sand created a portal. This didn't seem to surprise omnia at all, they even seemed annoyed for some reason.

"Are you sure this isn't another one of your creations?" They ask again, side eyeing lucifer as the said demon completly ignored them, shuving them into the portal with a dismissing wave.

"Now now, no more questions my child. Have fuuun! And don't forget to send me some gifts once in a while~!" He said as omnia looked back one more time, glaring slightly as they now submerged themselves in the light of the portal, their figure no longer to be seen within the 9th level of hell.

Now amongst other students, omnia stared at their bleeding, cut up hand, wondering what they should do with the such. The matters of school and the other students was something they could attend to later, and if they were being honest, they'd much rather never do so. But, it was inevitable.

Perhaps they could trade the blood in for a potion or so. After all, blood was still blood, as valuable as it can be to the king of hell, so why waste it? Then again, most of it had already spilled onto hell's floor, and the bleeding was decreasing, so getting anything of value from it wasn't very probable. Perhaps they should lick it off...

 

[Quibbles]

Blacksand
Wealth consists not in having great possessions, but in having few wants.

Location: Entrance to the school | Mood: Playful | Interaction: None​

Blacksand had arrived earlier and had been "playing" while they waited forming plants of glittering metal with gemstones as fruits. Each one used gold for its trunk or vines and platinum for its leaves. What gemstone was used for the fruits varied from plant to plant. Olives might be made from hematite or peridot depending on if they were black or green olives. Apples were either light jade or balas rubies. There was an arch covered in grapes made from amethyst with a swing in it made from copper. They had made ones more like fir trees with needles instead of leaves as well. Each was carefully placed to enhance the scene. They even made a pond of quicksilver to give a "water feature" even if they couldn't do real water.

They had been sent here to be socialized, but that also meant that they weren't particularly skilled at socializing. They knew people liked pretty things. They had seen kids have fun on swings before and they seemed rather safe for the fragile creatures. While it didn't know if they could have fun the same way it did, it could offer an olive branch and try to mix its fun with their fun while they learned about each other. It had at least learned enough to know that Miasma's fun wasn't fun for others, so it knew one mode to avoid until someone else initiated it. Sadly, this plan wasn't working well either. While some had occasionally looked at the things it made, or was making, nobody had come to join it yet.

They had considered working on a field of flowers, and that might be their next part of the project, but for now they were just going back and forth on the swing while they watched other people show up. As the others often seemed to take roughly human shapes, it chose to do the same with the body on the swing. They made it out of sand rich in dark minerals giving it a black appearance. They used gold like eyeshadow drawing attention to the lovely eyes that had indeed crafted out of opals black opal formed the pupil and white opal the rest of the eye. Perhaps with someone more like them to play with, they would be more interested or at least see how much fun it could be over with them.

 

[Alien222]

Chester Minit

Location: School Entrance

Interaction: N/A

Mentions: N/A​

The air was filled with the hearty smell of a large roast, the deer and pigs used for it hunted earlier that day, and rent by the sound of chatter. Little children ran in every direction, playing with each other for what would be likely the first time for them in their childhoods, considering how far apart Chuckles often were from each other. Every Clown Chester had ever known was gathered round the large table with a plate piled high with roast meat and candy before them and a cup of juice, animal blood or alcohol in hand. Some made jokes, some played a game of cards, some seemed to be in an eating and drinking contest with each other but others like Chester’s Ma were crying as if he was being sent off to some dark ancient tomb or worse a human-owned freak show. Well, only Chester’s Ma was doing that, all the other Clowns seemed happy to see one of their own go off to get a formal education that would actually benefit him(Most Clowns had no use for human education past some Maths and Business Studies).

Chester had tried everything to get the Pierrot to stop weeping but to no avail, so then while he waited for the time to say his final goodbyes, he did what every teenager tired of their overly sentimental parent(s) did: avoid them like the plague. This wasn’t a hard task, seeing as the forest was particularly dark that night and the celebration, though lit with many a lantern, still had its dark spots. There was also a colourful crowd of all types of Clowns –family friend Party Clowns, distant cousin Harlequins, a few odd auntie Augustes, some mimes– to hide amongst. Some of the Clowns present were relations, others were family simply by being in close-by Chuckles. Chester was glad to see all of them before leaving, striking up conversation with them when he could, after all, it was rare that so many of them gathered in one place and it was even rarer to be away from one’s Chuckle as long as Chester was going to be.

For the moments where he wasn’t talking to another, he circled the edge of the festivities, looking out into the dark forest beyond the clearing and wondering how he could escape going to this school. He knew why everyone wanted him to go and their reason for doing so was justified; more immortal friends would do him good. Making friends with meek humans who often died far too soon just wasn’t sustainable; most of them would be long gone before he even reached adulthood. But still he didn’t want to leave. He had come to treasure his life among the Chuckle with minimal rules and more freedom than most teens of other species. He’d miss his parents, the odd human girl he was just only beginning to know from town, the adults of his Chuckle, everything he’d come to already love. Everything he had plans of loving even more, with gifts and playdates and so much more.

Chester didn’t consider himself resistant to change having lived nomadically most of his life and through eras and people. When he was alone during the celebration, he wondered if he was finally losing his ability to accept things, if he was regressing into a petulant child that couldn’t accept everything couldn’t and shouldn’t remain static. He didn’t have much time to ponder it though, for as soon as his thoughts wandered to those darker places, some friend he hadn’t seen for over three decades pulled him into a conversation to catch up and he forgot what he’d been contemplating, each word shared making him want to leave less and less.

He found however, as the moon reached its peak in the sky sooner than he would’ve wished, that he had no choice but to pick up his bags and prepare to go.

Of course, even as he left there was a bit of stalling with his Pops having to rip off his Ma from him lest he drown in the Pierrot’s plentiful tears.
“Honestly dear, “ The harlequin muttered, as their stretchy arms tightened around their lover’s torso, “You’re acting like a wee little baby at the ripe age of 456 years.”

“Justine, must you always be so cruel and heartless?” Justin pouted, trying to wriggle out of their partner’s grip but to no avail, with the arms around them acting like the sturdiest ropes man had to offer both in purpose and quite literally with how they stretched and wrapped around them, “This is my little Chessie we’re talking about here and he’s about to go all by himself into some strange boarding school with none of his kind!”

“Ha!” A half drunk Party Clown butted in, the confetti coming off her braided hair marking her as Aunt Marsha, “This coming from the Clown who even proposed the idea of going to damn school! And strange? Haven’t you been to more strange places? Or should we start talking about Edward and his large castle up in Trans-”

“No, no, that’s quite alright,” Justin chuckled nervously before they finally slipped out of Justine’s grasp, holding their breath to shrink themselves to do so, before leaning over to Chester and whispering, “Scatter before your aunt starts spilling all my secrets to everyone.”

Chester nodded, resisting the urge to tease his Ma for their sudden shift in priorities. His regular ‘human’ teeth slipped back into his gums before his true piranha-like ones poked out of the pink flesh into a deadly grin. He wasted no time biting his thumb, sugary iridescent ichor flowing out of the wound before he pressed it into the letter and it dissolved into sand, causing his aunt Marsha to call over her girlfriend Sandy: “Hey, Sands! I found your exact copy!” The Auguste sighed upon seeing the portal her lover was pointing to, inflating her hand and bonking her on the head with the overly large extremity. Marsha flopped to the floor, cartoon birds flying over her head, as her irises became turning swirls.

“Please don’t carry your aunt’s humour over into that school, Chessie. You’ll make everyone look bad,” Sandy sighed as her hand deflated.

“I won’t,” Chester chuckled, stepping towards the beam of light before he was stopped by yet another sudden piece of advice, this time from Justin.

“And don’t eat your veggies. They’re good for other species, terrible for us,”

“Okay,” He tried to once again step into the portal but now he was stopped by a barrage of unasked for advice.

“And don’t hunt in the afternoon!”

“Don’t trust anyone with coulrophobia! They either lack whimsy or lack happiness!”

“Don’t paint your dorm room until you’re sure it’s okay! The fines for that can be crazy!”

“Go to the back of the cafeteria and check how the food is made if it tastes bad! Sometimes stuff is simply disgusting because the chef is bad with food, not because the food was sad when it died!”

“Date vampires!”

“Do not date vampires Chester Minit or so god help me-”

“People!” Chester shouted at the top of his lungs, quieting everyone, “Am I going to school to listen to my professors give a lecture or do you lot want to do that job instead?” He frowned, crossing his arms.

“...Go to school,” Justin groaned.

“Okay then, goodbye and see you later!” He bowed before hopping into the portal

A chorus of “Bye, Chester,” followed him as he went through the portal, bringing a smile to his face and for a minute quieting his anxious thoughts about the new environment and the transition to it. The actual school gates did more than quell his anxiety though, absolutely destroying them with the beautiful architecture and making his eyes race over every detail of it, his artistic instinct taking over before he noticed all the other students around him: strange and ordinary alike. He had to wrangle the instant need to go up to each one of them and ask them a million and one questions telepathically, as while he was practically buzzing from excitement, he was going to maintain some composure. For now.

 

[DuckPrince]

Elois Naia Lanathir
Hopeless failure of a boy

Location: Entrance to the school | Mood: Upset and nervous | Interaction: None​

Elois didn't want to leave home. Where it was safe and he could hide from the world, protected by parents and his older brother from people who had nothing better to do but say cruel things to him and about him.

His mother and father were sad when he left and his brother felt similarly although he always wore an encouraging smile for Elois. Stepping through the gates of the Academy, Elois suddenly remembered that he didn't actually read the acceptance letter that surely had instructions in it as to where he was supposed to go for orientation. He didn't even bring the letter with him.

"O-oh.. what.." He trailed, a shaky breath leaving him as he shuffled to the side to sit on the curb separating the walkway from the grass with his bags next to him. He didn't know what to do or where to go. And here he thought he could at least successfully get through the first day, even if he couldn't make anyone proud in particular. "Shit.." He couldn't help cussing.

 

[Alien222]

Claude Belial

Location: Hallways

Mentions: N/A

Interactions: Damselfly (Lillian)​

Claude circled the same hallway over and over as if the activity was his eternal cross to bear, occasionally stopping to mumble to himself under his breath. Any who could hear him in those moments of stillness only captured that he was doing mental mathematics for something. If he was in his human form, this might have seemed concerning if not a bit uncanny with how oddly his body moved. It always looked as if his movements were being pulled along by a puppeteer that only had a vague idea of how humans moved; Sometimes it was oddly slow and with large movements, other times it was fast with small sharp movements, never the exact ‘right’ way. But here in his gigantic magical form the oddness of it all was sharply punctuated and clear, only dulled by the large coat he wore and how it hid him somewhat but never completely. If Claude had better humour, he would’ve found it very funny how often people found his magical form intimidating, seeing as his magical form was technically on the shorter side of things, his own father reaching a lofty 8 feet.

His eyes were glazed over, unfocused, and slowly his mumbling became more nonsensical, turning less and less into comprehensible numbers and pieces of solvable equations and devolving into a repeated loop:

“If x is equal to that then do we have to use the quadratic…”

“But then 8 is to the power of…”

“3s, no,” He paused, freezing suddenly, “x, no S, no X, no S…”

“No S, No X, No S, No it’s…”

“S, X, S, X, S, X, S, X…”

“S, S, S, X, S, S, S, X…”

“S, S, S, S, S, S, S, S…”

Sometimes he pronounced the letter with enthusiasm and love, other times with dejection and frustration, and others in a strange fusion of it all but throughout his chant was quiet, non-existent if you weren't closely listening.

‘Cla…’ The sound echoed in his mind but not in the walls. Not in the hallways. Not in the school. Not anywhere in the world but his own prison of a mind. Not for anyone else but for his own ears. It was a dry voice, desperate and broken like a creature so beaten down and thirsty you prayed for the gods of the world to have mercy for once and end its suffering.

‘But how do you pray for the death of death itself?’ He wondered briefly, both wishing to push the voice in between his ears far away to the ends of the universe so he’d never hear its call once again and have it so close that he could feel his body rotting and peeling away into nothing as he embraced it, in all its grand coldness.

'Clau…'The ancient husk of a voice repeated and Claude’s soft subconscious chanting intensified.

‘What do you want?’ He asked but only in thought, his feeling a swirl of anger and longing. A break from the dreary monotone that were his emotions before(and often were his emotions lest he be angered) he’d heard it.

'Claud-' But before Claude could properly hear it, someone bumped into him. Or did he bump into them? Whatever it was, he despised it. He could feel their touch on his purple-brown skin even beneath his clothes and he would most likely feel it for hours. Feel this unprompted invasion sink into his skin for hours at a time, the sensation becoming more and more akin to dozens of little needles pressing into him in the shape of his assailant’s touch with each hour that went by. An itch that might cause him to start scratching at it until it bleeds and then tear out the nerves until he stopped feeling, only to curse himself until he ignored it like all the pain of living. All because someone couldn’t fucking watch where they were going. Why? Why was he god’s favourite tortured doll? Most people would just get annoyed but no, Claude had to endure this. He had to endure everyone else and himself and a damn entity who couldn’t talk well enough for him-

He sighed internally, putting his spiral of anger on pause – therapy had taught him one thing at the very least – to turn towards the idiot that had just single handedly caused him hours of discomfort. It was that human. Lily? Lucy? Rose? Whatever her name was, she was an annoyance. Honestly most of his colleagues were to him but she unsettled him. Perhaps it was the fact that Claude had lived on an airship most of his life and the humans he saw were mostly on television. Perhaps it was the fact he’d trapped a ghost once to power the old vacuum he didn’t want to buy new batteries for and he was still bothered by the fact that the tortured screams that rang out in his home as he vacuumed didn’t phase him but rather seemed to quiet the screams of his own psyche and he felt that one of her ghosts knew. Maybe it was something else entirely that Claude’s memory failed to capture or his mind erased for its own peace. However he didn’t have time to ponder what in particular was wrong with him for the tiny creature to disturb him, he had other things to address.

“Professor,” His voice was monotone, blank like a machine imitating speech. He bent down to her level and slowly within him, there was the subtle cracking of bones: this audible rearranging of his body as he moved it. “What are you doing here? Looking for secrets like a toddler on a scavenger hunt yet again?” The nature of his remark was quite obviously mocking but his face didn’t so much as smirk, his obsidian eyes which imitated darkness itself showing no emotion, not even the warm ceiling lights of the hallway reaching them as if they were actual abysses. The hole at his centre hummed lowly in time with his breathing, its multicoloured edges pulsing like a heart as he awaited a response.

 

[Damselfly]

Lilian watched various students arrive from the classroom window. Everyone was in their true forms, as far as she could tell. While not required to do so, they were encouraged. Here, they could be free to be themselves. An excellent idea, if not a little naive. Many of the students were dangerous, even as young as they were. Precautions had been taken, naturally, but still. All it would take was one teenager tantrum to cause real chaos. Granted, it was a small school, so likely everyone would be easy to contain. And the teachers had access to all of the students' information. Surely incidents could be avoided.

"Lily, you're doing it again."

Lilian didn't bother turning from the window. "Doing what again?"

"That thousand-yard, ghosts-of-my-past stare," her sister Harriet said. She coalesced into her white ghostly form, wearing the same outfit she had been in when she'd died. "Come on. This'll be fun! You'll be a great teacher."

Lilian gave a sigh. Harriet had always been the more optimistic one. Lilian sometimes was half tempted to let her possess Lilian and be the one to teach. And she suspected that she might do that sooner rather than later. More than usual, Lilian felt exhausted. A weariness that went beyond poor sleep habits and caffeine crashes. She had been told that she still had at least a decade left of life. But Lilian often wondered what that decade would be like. She intended to make the most of it, anyway.

"Why don't you explore?" Harriet suggested. She laid a ghostly hand on her sister's shoulder. No one else could feel Harriet, nor see or hear her, but she and Clyde were bonded to Lilian's soul. She experienced them like she did any other mortal being. "You know that makes you feel better. And we haven't checked out the east wing of the school yet."

Lilian pursed her lips, thinking. That wasn't a bad thought. She'd looked the school over, but other than the normal protective wards she'd already known about, she hadn't found anything of interest. Maybe third time's the charm. She checked her watch. Orientation wouldn't start for another hour. "I suppose it couldn't hurt."

Harriet clapped her hands together, and smiled. "Let's go! If it's dark enough, maybe Clyde will come out."

In the fluorescent lighting of the classroom, it was too bright for her other ghostly friend, Clyde. Only certain parts of the school were dim enough for him to come out. Despite this, she always felt his presence. Like feeling someone watching you, but unable to place where. After a decade of having two ghosts bonded to her, she had grown used to the sensation.

Lilian pulled on her black trench coat and strode out into the hallway. It had been sewn with twenty-three different pockets of varying sizes, each filled with various tools of her trade. As a result, it was quite heavy. She'd paid a fortune for the glamor on it that made it appear like a regular coat while worn. She'd like to one day afford a Coat of Endless Pockets, but those were both incredibly rare and expensive. So, her jerry-rigged trench coat would have to do.

The hallway was lit, and kept spotless by the Unseen Staff. Lilian had at first assumed they were ghosts, but they weren't; instead, they were simulacrums. Not the souls of the departed, but artificial servants created for varying purposes. Normal people couldn't see them with the naked eye, and even most supernatural creatures might not be able to perceive them. But Lilian was a psychic, and so saw the hallway filled with small bouncing orbs of light. All different colors, occasionally taking on various shapes to perform their tasks--a broom, a mop, a dustpan. They were incredibly efficient.

She made her way to the East Wing, and paused a moment. Was that... a voice?

“S, S, S, S, S, S, S, S…”

Lilian walked forward, frowning slightly. It wasn't a ghost, of that she was certain. She heard it with her physical ears, not her psychic ones. It was dark in the hallway, as well. The entire section seemed to be shrouded in the darkness. She glanced to her left, where Harriet normally stood, but found her gone. Too dark for her. Which meant...

Barely visible in the darkness, a form stepped by her side. It took a moment to coalesce into the shape of a large man. Clyde was six and a half feet tall, with broad shoulders and a strong frame that reminded her of a bear. In his time, he had been a slave around the civil war era. He had been beaten to death for defending his sisters from their masters, and had returned as a vengeful ghost. It wasn't until Lilian bound him to her--accidently--that he finally regained his composure and sanity. But, despite being a ghost, he couldn't see in this darkness any better than she could.

So they walked forward, slowly inching into the darkness, when Lilian ran into someone. Something?

She took a step back, Clyde standing just ahead of her. A moment later, the someone spoke.

“Professor,” His voice was monotone, blank like a machine imitating speech. He bent down to her level and slowly within him, there was the subtle cracking of bones: this audible rearranging of his body as he moved it. “What are you doing here? Looking for secrets like a toddler on a scavenger hunt yet again?”

It took her a moment before she recognized the voice. Claude, she thought. One of the teachers. She'd met a few of them in passing, but hadn't yet actually spoken to them. His body cracked in an odd way, and in the darkness she thought she saw his form shift. She put a hand on Clyde's arm, and the dark ghost stepped behind her. She reached in her coat pocket, and pulled out a Dancing Light. She threw it up in the air with a light toss, and it floated, slowly brightening. The hallway became illuminated, and she saw Claude in his large form. He was even taller than Clyde, which didn't surprise her. She'd never seen a creature like him. He appeared human-like, and she could feel a strange aura around him. Part of her itched to take out her EMF reader just to see what it would say.

"Claude, is it?" Lilian asked, pulling herself up to her full height as she looked right at his eyes. She ignored the "toddler" comment. It wouldn't be the first time the other teachers would look down on her for being merely human. And it certainly wouldn't be the last. "My apologies. I can't see in the dark. As for an answer to your question, well, I thought I might examine this wing before the students arrived. It's the last one I have to check. But seeing as you're here, I can simply check another time."

Alien222

 

[Alien222]

Claude Belial

Location: Hallways

Interactions: Damselfly (Lilian)

Mentions: N/A
​

In the light, the way Claude's body was twisted was quite obvious, his spine bent into what should have been a realistically impossible curve for anything with as many bones as him, but still he somehow managed, without much discomfort.

“Yes, it’s Clau-” He stopped mid-sentence, suddenly staring behind his colleague instead of at her, “who is that behind you?” He pointed towards the general area where he felt something.

He’d noticed it when she drew near and at first, he wasn’t sure if it was even there. There was just that gentle tug at the edges of his psyche. That pull of familiarity and dread mixed together that he’d come to associate with his ‘patron’. It was almost like a smell. Well, no, comparing it to something as existent as a smell was to imply that it had some quality about it. In reality, the ‘scent’ of darkness, death and entropy was more of an absence of smell than anything else; a quality defined by a lack of qualities. This coldness that was so starkly empty that it became noticeable against everything else(at least for those who were also acquainted with it and tied to it to the point Claude was).

Claude could just put in a little effort and try to see what metaphysical thing was there, but he was tired, more than usual, and didn’t feel like performing spells - albeit simple ones - when the professor could simply answer him. The only reason he used ‘who’ and not ‘what’ to describe what was behind the teacher was simply because he suspected, though not with absolute certainty, that it was simply one of her ghosts. If it wasn’t? Well the scientist was always at a shortage of test subjects.

“And no need to apologise for being unable to see in the dark, professor. You really are so brave for doing what you do. Human anatomy is so fragile and limited. I can’t imagine the utter confidence and bravery needed to explore so freely with such great hurdles," He clasped two large hands together dramatically, a gesture of great (mock) pity, "Oh and on the topic of darkness and light..." He straightened his previously twisted spine, now standing at his full height instead of being eye level with the other and once again there was a cracking of bones as he did so; the curve his spine formed was now undoing itself. His right arm, previously hidden by his fur coat, reached up to grab the Dancing Light and as it was nearly the length of Claude’s entire body, reaching well past his knees, it wasn’t a struggle.

Once the light was wrapped in his branch-like gloved fingers, he crushed it, and for a split second there was darkness once again. Suddenly though, and all at once, the grand chandelier at the center of the hall and the candles on each side of it lit up bathing the duo, or rather the trio, in warm magical light. Even then however, his eyes remained utterly lightless.

“Please do try to use the lights in the building, and not items that only provide as much illumination as a 3 year old’s night light.”

He then stepped aside the large burgundy coat on his shoulders and especially the black fur at its edges dragging against the carpeted floor behind him. He extended one unusually long and thin arm behind him, practically wrapped in the tight white fabric of the lab coat he wore underneath his fur one, gesturing to the dark hallway behind him. “And don’t let me stop you from exploring. Your country of origin was founded upon the backs of people who loved to sail in directions that were hardly any of their business and it’s running just dandy right now, no?”

 

[Damselfly]

“Yes, it’s Clau-” He stopped mid-sentence, suddenly staring behind his colleague instead of at her, “who is that behind you?” He pointed towards the general area where he felt something.

Lillian raised an eyebrow. She felt Clyde tense, and she gently raised a hand to stop him. "That's Clyde. He's a ghost--a revenant, to be specific--and he's with me. As is Harriet, though her ghost type is a spirit."
She was a little surprised that Claude could see them. Most couldn't--even those gifted with supernatural vision. But Claude was, well, very much not human.

“And no need to apologise for being unable to see in the dark, professor. You really are so brave for doing what you do. Human anatomy is so fragile and limited. I can’t imagine the utter confidence and bravery needed to explore so freely with such great hurdles," He clasped two large hands together dramatically, a gesture of great (mock) pity, "Oh and on the topic of darkness and light..."

She watched him destroy the dancing light, frowning slightly in irritation. They weren't difficult to make, nor were they expensive, but still. It was the principle of the matter. But he didn't seem the type to really worry about morals and ethics. Especially not for a 'fragile' human.

“Please do try to use the lights in the building, and not items that only provide as much illumination as a 3 year old’s night light.”

He then stepped aside the large burgundy coat on his shoulders and especially the black fur at its edges dragging against the carpeted floor behind him. He extended one unusually long and thin arm behind him, practically wrapped in the tight white fabric of the lab coat he wore underneath his fur one, gesturing to the dark hallway behind him. “And don’t let me stop you from exploring. Your country of origin was founded upon the backs of people who loved to sail in directions that were hardly any of their business and it’s running just dandy right now, no?”

"I'm not one to bother with finding a light switch when I can use my own light," Lillian said calmly. "In the future, I'd appreciate you not destroy them, when it came be avoided."

She stepped to the side. "But I'm interrupting you, surely. I can always perform my... What did you call it? "Toddler scavenger hunt"? Yes. I can do that later. And I believe we have a faculty meeting to attend before the bulk of the students arrive."

She was used to people being dismissive of metaphysical science. But being condescending just because she was human was a new one. But she did sign up to teach students of supernatural origins. Most of them wouldn't be human.

It was a good thing she was used to being condescended to due to her work.

She turned, walking in the direction of the staff meeting room. She'd have to return later, but Claude was probably right--there was likely nothing in the wing. Still, Lillian hated surprises, and would rather know than leave it up to chance.

She sighed, and continued on.