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Fantasy Summoning and Deterring Hellspawn and Kitties for Beginners ["The Chilling Adventures of Sabrina" Style Rp] [Literate]

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Coldpopz

Smooth Subtlety
Solomon Island, Maine. A sleepy little town that, to us, is an image of times past everywhere else; children playing in the street, the smell of coffee and maple syrup every morning, and a newspaper that upholds the archaism of printed word. Everything is quiet in this sleepy little town, except for the school that sits on top of Cherry Hill. The Theodore Academy of Art and Science. It is the townspeople’s greatest joy, their own adolescent equivalent of Ivy League.
Take a trip into its foyer and listen to the constant swell of orchestra music. Walk past doors that contain well-behaved students within. Let the ambience of academic achievement settle on your tongue, only to be spoiled by the flyer posted on the wall. A flyer that reads: “HAVE YOU SEEN ME? JENNY MCCALLISTER,” attached with the picture of a smiling brunette. Let yourself settle into this sleepy little town.

The bell rings. Masses of uniformed students exit their classrooms, smiles beaming across the hallway. “Tim, come to my dorm later!” a boy shouted. “My parents sent my old DS!”
Lockers opened and closed with the sound of grating metal, laughter drowning them out like twigs in a river. Jokes, plans, and gossip alike floated from one end of the corridor to the other, but alas, the rush was short lived. A mere five minutes passed before the stream of pupils had emptied the passageway, carrying their jubilations with them. The echoes of their presence faded. Soon, only silence reigned over these tile floors.
However, a detachment of students had not left. Curiously, each of them had arrived this very day for their first semester. They made their way to the rear of the school, most with their heads hung low in silence. Many found this to be an opportune time to read their welcome letters.
Welcome to the Briar Institute of Forgone Arts.

We are overjoyed in your acceptance of our fine establishment, but a number of rules must be set before you.

1. Do not venture into the woods at night.
2. Never disclose the nature of the academy, your personal status, nor that of your peers to any mortal.
3. Obey the authority of all faculty and senior witches and warlocks.
4. Though you may not be part of the local coven, you must honor the Blackest Circle's beliefs and members with the upmost respect. They are among the greatest pinnacles in the witching community and will be treated as such.
5. Do not attempt magicks that are above your current curriculum. Doing so is extremely dangerous. Certain sections of the library will be closed to you for this reason.
6. Tampering with the wards around the school is expressly forbidden and you may be prosecuted for doing so.
7. Should a peer exhibit strange behavior, report it to a faculty member immediately.


- Sincerely your's, High Priest Nayax




Past the empty classrooms, the courtyard, the library and her scent of yellowed paper, finally, the object of their journey presented itself: an ancient brick wall with a rusted door in the center.
The words ‘OFF LIMITS’ had been scrawled across the chipping paint, warning every inquisitive mind about the dangers of the condemned area within. Remarks regarding the “old academy” were present during orientation, but nothing keynote in particular. That there was an accident, that the structure was falling apart and to stay out, each word delivered in a coat of nonchalance and a hint of discomfiture. But oh no, this door was the very reason they came, wasn’t it? Both an entrance and a choice lay before them; for this was their last chance to turn back.
 
Molly hated being forced to wear her glamour. Then again, she hated being forced to do anything. Her demon side was naturally a font of chaos and evil, and rules were the tools of order and good. It was like the old saw about oil and water. Still, she didn’t want to be thrown out of school before she went in, so she did it. Likewise, the other rules were things she could tolerate, so she would follow them, at least to the letter.


As the various mundanes filed around her, Molly made her way deeper and deeper into the bowels of the school. Somewhere around here was the magical door that would lead her into Briar. She checked her welcome letter again, noting the bit about the woods. Obviously, the door was some sort of portal. She wrinkled her nose in distaste- she’d traveled by portal exactly once, and it had been a miserable experience she had no desire whatsoever to repeat. Unfortunately, it seemed she would have no choice but to do so.


At last, she came to the designated location. The door in question was an ancient thing, made of rusted and pitted metal. Just looking at it made Molly want to have a tetanus shot. She looked around, making sure there were no mortals in the vicinity, then cautiously opened the door, not quite sure of where it would lead or what she would find.
 
The young woman navigated the now empty halls, acceptance letter in hand. Despite already having read it enough to memorize the rules listed, she found herself repeatedly skimming its contents to make sure she hadn’t missed anything. She would look up from the paper every so often to make sure she was both headed in the right direction and not in danger of bumping into anything. Though she seemed to be alone, it would still be a bit embarrassing to run into something. After arriving at the location in the back of the school she stood still. The finger that had previously been fiddling with one of her various rings stopped, the pad of her thumb resting upon the small Tiger’s Eye embedded into the silver band.

Her gaze fell upon the other person in front of the door. A bit of relief filled her, now knowing that she would not be entering alone. Though, she didn’t know whether or not the girl before her was a new or returning student. It would be nice if she too was a new student though. When she saw the other student begin to open the door she began to move, walking over to her and clearing her throat slightly to make her presence known. A small, timid smile formed on her pale lips in an attempt to look friendly should the other witch look her way. Evanova stayed quiet waiting for her to open the door completely and pass through so that she could follow. She could feel her heart beat faster inside of her chest in both excitement and nervousness. Her thumb began to turn the ring on her finger once more, her grip on the letter tightening enough to cause it to slightly wrinkle.
 
Young Cravpyr found himself at the rear of the school. His long legs carried him in a lackadaisical gait, his left arm wrapped around a binder and his right hand clutched a lacrosse stick. On his back hung a loose red backpack that seemed worn down with tatters and various black patches. Bright green eyes looked over the two girls who had gotten there beforehand. A soft sigh escaped his lips, he felt at ease knowing he wouldn't bear that awkward burden of showing up first. Though his eyes widen in anticipation watching the door open completely. Not wanting to be seen as a weirdo he relaxed his right shoulder, allowing the backpack to slip down. Catching it swiftly, he quickly unbuttoned the top and dropped the binder inside. Buttoning it back up quickly he spun it around and slid the lacrosse stick into a pocket on the back. The boy tugged an elastic string to tighten the stick into place, once all settled he stood tall behind the girls and bit his lip in excitement.

Being taller than the girls, he looked over their heads to see beyond the door, though something caught his eye. The girl on his immediate right was fiddling wildly with various rings on her finger. A ring with a tiger's eye within became the focal point for him. As he was looking away the tiger's eye blinked and he could've sworn everything had gotten colder. Gulping audibly he focused back to the task at hand. He couldn't afford to seem like a weirdo, he refused to allow his mind to fuck with him.

" So do we just , walk in right? "
 
Greer's body was formed of black ink, but the magic that gave him life gave him the solidity of living flesh. A crest of small spikes ran down his head, and two clawed hands with 5 fingered opposable thumbs came out of his body where they would be on a human. Further down his body continued into a snake's tail, although it was as prehensile as one on a monkey.

The Witch who had created him had required a messenger and formed him to be agile and fast. Her mistreatment of him had resulted in him getting his own back by changing the text in one of her spellbooks so she accidentally put herself inside the summoning circle of the demon she was attempting to bind. From there Greer had moved from person to person. Some had been mortals ignorant of what the book he was dormant in contained, others were Witches who ended up passing him on to other Witches. Greer eventually ended up dormant inside a book of minor rituals before being found by his current Witch, Evanora. She was eager for what he could give her (what teenager wouldn't want something who could rewrite homework and report cards?) and he decided to see how far he could take her. Which at the moment was graduation at this new school. If things went as planned. There were a million things to do, but just you wait.

As Evanora navigated the halls, her Bookwyrm Familiar Greer poked his head out of her sleeve. He was currently resting in his tattoo form on her back, but could still move around over her skin. He'd all but memorized the letter, and as usual had opinions on what he had read. His telepathic voice echoed in Eva's head as he 'spoke,' choosing to keep this conversation (or to put it more accurately him monologuing at her) between them:

"There are always rules about woods in these kinds of places, but they never seem to explain why. You would think that adding that there being monsters or some other sort of danger in there would be something they'd be explicit about. But no, apparently they want obedience without having to explain why. Or maybe they don't want students to go in for parties and get drunk. Which I can understand. Although there's something to be said for the effects of wild parties. Why I've been pacted with several Witches who could throw one Hell of a party. I remember one wild night, one of them decided to conduct a ritual skyclad when..."
(one blush-inducing, explicitly detailed description of a truth or dare game later)
"...and they ended up needing to burn the wardrobe to get it out! Hmm, I got off track there, let me see..."

Greer looks back at the letter.

"Ugh, and there's that classic arrogance. Calling nonwitches 'Mortals' as if they somehow don't need to fear death. If you ask me Witches would do well to figure out how to make the eventual reveal not end in the nonwitches wiping them out. Witches are outnumbered and nonwitches keep progressing in technology. They've already nearly caught up with mirror messages with their phone technology, scrying with cameras, and who knows how fast they'll progress in the next few decades? The next Witch hunts will likely be the last ones one way or another. So remember what I've told you: never underestimate someone just because they don't have magic. Now let's see what other rules these 'educators' have set down...

Unquestioning obedience to authority and the regional powers. I'd pretend to be surprised but I've been living with you Humans for far too long. Whatever happened to witchcraft being about rebellion? Trust me, you're only as bound as any person can force you to be.

The last three seem reasonable enough. Although asking teens to report strange behavior sounds like they'll be bringing in the lovesick and pining rather than any actual dangers. Just hope nobody gets possessed, that's not fun for anybody. Except for the possessor if they get away with it.

Still, with my help and your hard work you'll have no problems progressing here. Now if you'll excuse me, I've had quite enough rest and I want a better view."

Greer moves back up Evanora's sleeve, resumes his 3 dimensional form, and slithers out of her collar. Anybody looking at Eva would see Greer attempting to find the best position for staying on her shoulders while she walked.
 
The door opened and the future held their hands as the unharrowed stepped inside. Through the door, the world became a backdrop of darkness; even the floor they walked on was a plane of perfect emptiness. Still, they could feel it- an imperceptible change that writhed and squirmed in the black. Some fundamental shift in the magick around them, a bewitched altering of time and space. Something powerful. And in the distance…
Boom, boom, boom.
It came steadily at first, like the heartbeat of a waking beast. But the rhythm grew as if it were coming closer, or as if they were getting closer to it. In the darkness, it was impossible to tell. But soon it reached a crescendo, pounding their ears hard enough to make them explode. Try as they would, try as they might, it continued on and on, thundering in their skulls until, one by one, they fell to the inky ground. The drum had gone but it had done its damage.
And the darkness remained, a canvas that blurred the difference between cognizance and dreamless sleep. One by one, they slipped from the realm of consciousness, not even aware of their passing…

Then, a faint noise.

“Get up.”
His voice came from a million miles away, but was there nonetheless. Mild-mannered, gentle yet as invasive as the flickering light that pawed at their eyes. Slowly the world resolidified from its blurry incarnation, teasing the vague details that were blanketed around them. Torches lining the circular walls, an open space with a hard black floor, and the silhouette of the man who urged them to awaken. He pulled each teenager to their feet and held some material under their noses, one that burned their nostrils but yanked them back to material existence.
“That will be all, Sylvester.”
The rumble of a sentence came from behind. Standing atop a grand staircase, a black man adorned in crimson robes grinned at the newcomers. Each of his teeth were sharpened canines, tucked beneath the expression of wry amusement he wore. A mass of black-clad students stood around him, their eyes forward as they kept to rigid postures.
“Welcome to the Briar Institute of Forgone Arts. I am High Priest Nayak,” he declared. “You have just passed through the veil, a collection of wards that root out and destroy all that is not witch, warlock, or their property. Congratulations, you have taken your first step towards your destiny.”
He rubbed his hands together, trimmed fingernails scuffing each other.
“Unfortunately, there is one matter that must be attended before your full admissions. The Harrowing is not just a tradition here, but a condoned rite. Many of you have not given yourselves to our Dark Lord, and so you remain unprotected against his forces. In order to strengthen your spirit in lieu of a signature, we will cleanse you, guard you, and empower you for the next three nights. Those who have signed His book of the beast will come to no harm. Otherwise, the death toll is quite high.”
A smile punctuated this last sentence.
“Of course, should any of you wish to sign at any point during the Harrowing, the option will be available, unless you have yet to turn sixteen, of course. If you have any further questions, you may ask your… welcoming committee. May the Dark Lord favor you.”
With that, High Priest Nayak made his way up the stairs until he disappeared around the bend. As soon as the click of a door sounded, the robed students practically charged at the newcomers. “Fresh meat! Fresh meat for the chupacabras!” they howled.
Jars full of sickly green fluid were held out for each pupil, smelling of bile and decay. “Drink up. A mix of toadstool, hemlock, and henbane ought to purify your bodies. Toilets are on your right, you’ll be puking your guts out in there for the next four hours. Have fun!”
 
Greer shuddered in disgust against Eva's skin before resuming his 2 dimensional form as a tattoo on her back.
"Don't bother. They want to provoke outrage, outright. So don't engage. You're not strong enough to strike against the Church of Night. They're relentless and you can't pay the cost of a fight. Outlast them, just focus on staying alive until this horror show has passed. Raise the glass."
(Assuming she does so.)
"To get through this you'll need to learn the art of the compromise. So hold your nose and close your eyes."

Greer is disgusted at this...farce of a greeting ceremony. Humanity's need to emotionally abuse each other into compliance rather than just asking or outright forcing it was only interesting in fiction or historical texts. If a student didn't sign The Book of the Beast they'd face nonstop pressure to sign it for as long as they were here.

Eva was lucky she had him to keep her on the right path or she'd likely end up losing far more than she would gain. Humans were all too willing to give up too much in the present even when faced with a worse future. It's what happens when your species confuses primitive urges and irrational desires with genuine needs.
 
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Molly looked at the cocktail of poisons with a raised eyebrow. Sure, she didn't have to go through this, but tradition was tradition, after all. She raised her glass in salute to her fellow witches and warlocks. "Over the lips and over the gums, look out stomach, here it comes!" Then she downed her glass in one shot... and immediately regretted it. The taste was agonizingly foul, the worst she'd ever experienced, and she knew instantly that even her supernaturally enhanced guts wouldn't be able to keep the concoction down. Without so much as a word, the tiefling raced over to the restroom, threw open the door so hard she thought she might tear it off its hinges, and started retching and heaving. This is a great way to start off my time here...
 
"That's easier to say when you're not the one drinking it," Eva responded to Greer. Her eyes She stared at the concoction offered to her and narrowed her eyes. As she reached out, the girl that had entered with her chugged the drink and sped off to the bathrooms soon after. This of course made her even less excited to drink it, but like her familiar had said there had to be some sort of compromise. With much hesitation she took the jar from the student and held it by her face. The awful stench made her nose crinkle up in disgust. For a moment she was brought back to when her mom would make elixirs, the strange scents they left lingering about the house. But this was far worse. Better to get it over with now. The young witch tipped back her head and downed the liquid. It went down rather smoothly but it's taste was about a million times worse than it's foul odor. "Blegh. Awful," she murmured to the remaining newbie. She had meant to say more or perhaps make a dumb joke but it wasn't long before she booked it to the nearby bathroom. The second stall's door all but slammed open when she rushed in and dropped to her knees. One hand held her hair back and the other gripped the ceramic toilet while she emptied out her stomach.

As soon as it passed, she sat back. "Greer, something tells me I might not be having any parties like the one you mentioned- you know, with this welcoming and all." The back of her hand slowly wiped at her mouth. It was absolutely disgusting, and it wasn't over yet. It was just the beginning. A large part of her feared what was next to come, with what the High Priest had said about harrowing and deaths. Not even a moment later she was kneeling over once more. This was not what she had imagined at all when she received her letter in the mail. So much excitement had overwhelmed her, but now she was full of dread.
 
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Greer is thankful that his ability to smell and taste is under his control or he'd likely be vomiting alongside her. Bookwyrms are capable of eating, but tend to only do so when it's something they very much like to eat due to how small their 'stomach' is.

If Greer were physically capable of it he'd lift an eyebrow sarcastically at his Witch's remarks. He instead projects a sardonic tone telepathically as he holds Eva's hair away from her face.

"Well, the expulsion of bodily contents is typical of the endings of some of those parties. From what I've seen and read you this isn't about to get better. You're either going to have to conform, go unnoticed, become popular enough they accept you, or make it so they don't dare mess with you. I've already cautioned against the first, so I'd suggest the second while trying to find a way to make the third or fourth happen. This isn't exactly a situation where you can 'win.' Even in normal circumstances people are more interested in preserving the status quo even if a lot of people get screwed over. In this case the abuses are baked into the system.

Still, I'm reasonably certain I can get you through this. Just figure out what you need to do to succeed, what resources you need for that, and who can help you. Making it through this hazing with as much as your dignity intact as you can will help with that."
 
The Professor (Nayak written by Coldpopz)

As the cold halls crackled with minor light, the far off sounds of the beginning of the Harrowing echoed through the school. Older students, who were not participating for various reasons in watching the tradition, were patrolling the halls. Laughter, sadness, and various other sounds of emotion emanated from their mouths, but one by one, they turned and made room for an old man walking down the hall. Some greeted him warmly, happy to see their favorite professor. Others cursed under their breath at the old fool, having not done well in his courses. Some were intimated by such an ancient warlock, but to Professor Tagast, he was on a battle path in his soul. He greeted the kind and rude students alike with a distant warmth, which seemed to follow slightly in his wake. However, his soul was ablaze in rage. It was not a well kept secret throughout the school that the famous Otherworlds professor reserved no love for the Harrowing, and after witnessing it for century after century, Tagast was beginning to have enough. He marched confidently toward the high priest's office, knocking and opening the door quickly.


The steady crackle of flame kept Nayak good company behind his desk. Ancient parchment slipped between his fingers as he thumbed through a long forgotten grimroire, its cover and back fashioned from human skin. Within, inscriptions of dark rituals had been penned, and the ornaments decorating his office had been turned away as if to avoid the content there.
His door opened and Nayak glanced at the intruder.
“Professor Tagast,” he sighed. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?”

Tagast walked in sternly, his eyes glancing around the room. The old professor calmly studied his surroundings, as if taking them in for the first time. But in his eyes were a fire, a fire of anger and remorse. He had seen many things at this school, and they were beginning to wear on him. "So...the Harrowing is begun..."
"So it has. I'm going to assume you've come here to make another flat plea for the Harrowing to stop, just like the last six hundred years."
Tagast sighed and thought for a moment. He began to walk around the room, absent-mindedly viewing it's contents as he spoke. "Nayak, I will not lie to you. I am growing old. Age does something to you."
"Ah, good. You've finally realized it's a waste of time to try stopping an age-old tradition, thank the Dark Lord."
"Don't confuse my lack of plea for acceptance or engagement." He spoke sharply, a hidden fire bursting forth, yet still well-controlled. "Age has simply shown me that there is much that is outside of my realm of influence. Some battles are too big for an old man. So they must be chosen wisely." He walked towards Nayak's desk, his arms behind his back.
A stream of hot air shot from Nayak's nostrils, his hands gripping the grimoire a little tighter. "Get to the point, Tagast."
Tagast set his hands on Nayak's desk, his eyes burrowing into Nayak's soul. Several light blue and gold and green rings rested on his aged hands, and he narrowed his eyes. "Allow me to speak to the new students. I will simply reassure them that the Harrowing can be completed, without signing. I will not discourage them from choosing their own paths, but I will present them with a valid choice."
For the first time, Nayak glanced up from his reading and met Tagast's stare. He slammed the book shut. "Now you listen to me," he rumbled, like the thunder of a coming storm. "They knew the circumstances coming here, every last student has. You will not say a word to them because I do not trust you. The Dark Lord does not trust you. If you don't like it, you can crawl to the animistic backwater you came from."
Tagast was not intimidated by the younger Warlock. He had great power, but Tagast had experience. "Tell me to my face why it is that you don't trust me. Simply because I'm not apart of your little cult? Now, I want there to be a younger generation of witches and warlocks just as much as you do. If you do not trust me, come and speak with me. Then you will be able to verify everything that is said. You know I will have many of their ears in class, already."
"You forget that you are the minority among the witches of the world. A dying subspecies worshipping deities the Dark Lord will either burn or enslave with our help. You may speak with your students as much as you like, after they get through the Harrowing. Or did you forget they are not admitted until they've survived?"
"Oh, I haven't forgotten...I rarely forget anything. I simply know my abilities. There is no need for wars among our kin. You would burn us to the ground, but alas, that is the way of your 'dark lord'." He paused, standing up, anger still in his eyes, but cooling of softly. "...Have you spoken with my granddaughter recently?"
"No. I am not obliged to speak with every star pupil that passes through here."
"That's a relief, actually. I was hoping she would stay clear of your poisonous tongue."
"It's more I who would be wise to stay clear of her's. Your granddaughter ended up nothing like you, and we are better for it. I can't wait to see the day she incinerates her path with our virtues."

"Then there is hope..." Tagast muttered under his breath. His beloved granddaughter, although she saw him as an old fool, was still very dear to him. He lamented daily how his daughter had run off and married such a wicked warlock, but he held out hope in his old heart for the next generation. He stood up and spoke calmly with his polite British accent. "Good day, Nayak." With that, he turned out. As Tagast walked back to his office and quarters, his heart was heavy. Nayak wanted an extermination of the magick that he had been guardian of for so long. Under Nayak, the 'dark lord' would reign terror on the witches and warlocks of the world. After he walked to his desk and sat down, he thought for some time, entering a time of meditation. After a long while, he opened his eyes, with steely resolve of what must be done.
 
As the pair left Nayak’s office, just out of the corner of their eye, something watched them. Something in the wall. It waited until the professor and high priest had gone, then extended a leg… or rather, the wall extended a leg. A macabre display of inanimate mitosis, flaunting its strangeness until a voluptuous figure had separated completely. Although, the humanoid shape was a pretty little thing, with pale skin and a set of eyes that twinkled with mischief.
The door nearly caught her short skirt as the girl slipped past, shutting behind her in a firm click. With feet so light they feared waking the dead, she crossed the office while a tune floated from her lips. “Go, tell Aunt Rhooody/ Go, tell Aunt Rhoooody/ Go, tell Aunt Rhoooody/ That everybody’s dead.”
Mmmmm, so much evil in this room, she thought. Who knew what unaccounted actions Nayak had done right here, on this desk, to garner the energies that swirled in the air? They practically kissed Enya’s skin as she adjusted her cropped top, letting a dark sizzle rest on her shoulder.
“I was raised in a deep dark hole,” she hummed, rummaging through the drawers. “A prisoner with no parole/ They locked me up and took my soul/ Ashamed of what they’d made…”
Ah, there it was. She dropped Nayak’s grimoire onto the table, a simper carved into her features. However, the book refused to open. A stubborn huff broke Enya’s song as she gripped the cover and back. Jaw clenched, the teenage witch yanked as hard as she could. Smoke suddenly puffed from her fingers and she pulled away with a piercing yelp, letting off a flurry of strongly worded slurs. But then, her eyes caught an alternative prize.
Enya raised a circular pin to her face, the same one Nayak wore whenever he left the school at night. The sorceress ran a pair of fingers over her tongue and then polished the diameter in saliva. Let’s see where you run off to, she whispered, imperiously staring at her reflection in the metal. With that, Enya set everything back where she found it and left the room. Her siren song drew to a close, haunting the corridor with its final chords…
“I called to him and he will come/ She’ll answer him like he’s the one/ His arms outstretched but when she’s done/ He’ll be torn apart…


Go, tell Aunt Rhooody


Go, tell Aunt Rhoooody


Go, tell Aunt Rhoooody


That


Everybody’s


D e a d.”
 
Eventually, the group finds themselves entering the main dormitory building. The exterior radiated the same foreboding atmosphere as the rest of the campus, as though it had lapped up all the energy from the multitude of students it housed. Granted, it literally had. However, the doors were strewn wide open, granting decent view inside the complex, displaying about what most would expect. The fine wooden grains and natural finish of the complex were neatly complimented by the neoclassical paintings adorning the way. Bookshelves filled with decrepit leather-bound tombs were proudly positioned around the common room. Throughout the area stood a few clusters of students, neck deep in conversation. This was all sharply contrasted by the roar of gagged synthesizers and drum machines emanating from a stereo seated in the middle of a group of rather outlandish witches. The closer the students approached the open doors, the more cigarette smoke stained the evergreen. It hardly took a few moments for the trio of upperclassmen to lock eyes with the newcomers.



“Fresh lot, eh?” One of them utters to her friends. “Almost gotta feel sorry for them,” she remarks before abandoning her group, veering towards Evanora and Lyle. “Oi! New litter, hm? Don’t be shy now, come in.” Her finger motions for the pair to follow her in. The witch was quite a spectacle, with her hair dyed an intense green, one side shaved down to her bare scalp. Thick brushes of makeup hugged her eyelids, coming to neat, angular points at each far end. The white blouse she presumably wore to class was buttoned down half way, displaying a considerably intricate tattoo splayed across her bust. Her exposed palms bore very similar markings. A black jacket sat comfortably over her, pierced with multiple pins, studs, and markings. “Yasmin Khalil, by the way.”



Yazmin leads the two inside, maintaining a distance of about a metre at all times. “Figure I should do a good turn. Never got one of these my first day, wish I had.” Casually, she plucks a cigarette from her jacket pocket and flicks it directly to her lips. “That shit the teachers tell you about not doing high-level conjuring and crap in the dorms? Don’t fucking do it. The only thing worse than expulsion is a hoard of berated preps on your ass. None of us like having our stuff inevitably destroyed.” She turns back to the two, her cigarette suddenly lit. “Also, don’t smoke unless you know someone who can mask the scent and don’t play loud music unless you know someone who can dampen it. It only takes one careless runt to get the faculty all over this place. Oh, and I know it seems tempting, but don’t even think about the forest until you’re at least a junior. Other than that, enjoy and don’t have to much fun, yeah?” She smirks before slipping through the freshmen, back to her initial group.



“Oh,” she suddenly stops, “Before I forget, down there, room zero-one-two. Might as well be another administrator in there.” Her brown eyes lock with the pair once again. “Izzy Barrett lives in here, she’s an alright. Nice girl, good with computers, bit of a geek, sometimes she lets me borrow her tapes, though. Oddest thing, though, she was a bit of a wallflower before the summer, like she’d blend right into a crowd. Now she’s… that,” Her hand subtly points to a dirty blonde girl standing beside a circle of witches. It was clear who she was trying to point out: tall, curvaceous, the kind of look that was seductive without even trying to be. “Bit of a goal, that one. Oh, and she wants to be called ‘Isadora’ now.” Yasmin takes a breath in and sighs as her eyes dart back to the dorm at the end of the hall “But you don’t have to worry about her at all. Her roommate, Enya Alleister is resident Queen Bitch. Most popular breathing thing on the campus, good graces of the faculty, skilled in her crafts, astonishingly cutthroat. If she wants something you can count on it happening. And her family is the second most powerful in her coven, just lagging to the Briars. A couple of people got between those two. The outcome… well, they still hang around the school. In a less corporeal sense, I suppose.”
 
It was hard to continue vomiting and listen to Greer’s advice for surviving Briar at the same time; some bits were drowned out by all the ever so lovely sounds that accompanied puking. Though she supposed it was better than whatever the poor guy in the next stall got. His experience was definitely making hers all the worse. With nothing left to disgorge she sat up. “All right… so basically keep my head down for now...” Eva got some toilet paper and wiped at her mouth, tossing it in the toilet and flushing afterward. “And find out what I have to do and make a friend or two to help me with that?” The brunette rose to her feet and straightened out her skirt gingerly. “Greer. That’s easier said than done.” The young woman left the stall and washed her hands in the sink. While drying them on her skirt she looked up at her reflection in the mirror. Her slight frown turned into a smile, “I think I can do it though.”

Not wanting to stay inside the bathroom, she stopped just outside to wait for the guy. There was a bit of temptation to look for the girl with them, but she didn’t want to get completely split up so early on. Be it a bit childish in nature, she thought sticking together would be best. Her finger continued to turn one of her many rings as she swayed on her heels. After some time, he finally exited the bathroom. Not wanting to discomfort him or make him feel embarrassed, Eva offered a polite smile. “My name is Evanora. Eva for short, or Nora I suppose.” After a quick introduction and handshake, the two began their walk to the dormitory.

Eva stared at the dormitory and everything within, letting it all soak in. Coming from a bit of a sheltered life and a family that wasn’t all too well off, this was definitely one of the more lavish places she’d seen. When the green haired witch approached, she grew a bit concerned, expecting some sort of unkind welcoming like the one they just had. Well- not completely unkind, but not exactly the warmest either. It was a pleasant surprise when the young woman introduced herself and beckoned them inside. Much better than a jar of green puke inducing liquid. The young witch listens very carefully to the advice Yasmin has to offer, despite some it regarding things that she didn’t particularly care for: the smoking and loud music. The forest might’ve been something to interest her, but the warning turned her away from it.

Her mouth opened to thank their guide when she decided to add on to the wisdom she had already shared. Her gaze followed the way the tattooed woman pointed. Her attention stayed on the blonde for a moment, not only in an effort to memorize her face but also because it somewhat hard to look away. Eva looked back over to Yasmin after her last comment. Her brows furrowed slightly and a frown formed. “That’s… well kinda scary.” She shook her head and smiled. “I’m Evanora by the way. Nice to meet you and uh thank you.”
 
“It’s quite strange how quickly you can empty your entire stomach. You humans really are built like machines, I suppose that’s why you were used to build pyramids and such. I wonder what else we could use you for…Tell me, do you think your species will ever evolve to have wings? Imagine that, messenger humans filling the skies with our mail.”



The Demon that lived within his mind rattled on and on while an orchestra of disgusted eruption filled the bathrooms. It seemed Lyle’s torment would last forever, his stomach flipped and rolled into a frenzy of pain. It all finally subsided and the boy wiped furiously, not risking anything to linger. A great sigh of relief escaped his lips while he closed the door behind him, it felt as if he just conquered a great crucible, perhaps this would be the hardest thing about this school. His Green eyes looked for the group but he was quickly distracted by a feminine voice just behind him. Turning, he greeted her with a weak smile and glanced into her eyes only for a brief moment. Eye contact often made him nervous though the nerves usually relaxed once he got comfortable around the person, but comfort isn’t usually found just outside a bathroom.



“Nora, or Eva. Both are pretty names, I am Lyle.”

Chuckling filled his mind until it evolved into a frenzied howl. In his mind’s eye he could see the silhouette of the entity inside of him curl in laughter. The being’s horns grew in stature and it’s shoulders relaxed with every boisterous laugh. It slowly died down to feminine giggles before it ceased completely to be followed by an exasperated sigh. The being brought itself to it’s feet and seemed to wipe it’s eyes while suppressing giggles.

“You handle women like the Greeks handle Calvary!”



Another roar of laughter erupted in his head and the boy winced a bit. The demon was beginning to give himself away with all these dated sayings, Lyle tried earnestly to remember them. He shook the girl’s hand and followed her to the dormitory. A black ink blot of sorts dotted his vision and he wildly blinked trying to get whatever it was out of his eyes. The blot never seemed to go away and he knew something was wrong once he heard the deep chuckles within his mind.

“Come now boy, what you are seeing is my influence. Calm yourself and focus…see what I see.”



The blot was focused on Eva’s back. It seemed to pulse as if it had a heartbeat, raising an eyebrow he was about to question the demon within his mind until a girl stepped towards the pair. The odd haircut and strange tattoos got his entire attention and he followed her without question, though he stayed in step with Eva. He nodded his head every time she allowed a pause in her introductions and tour. His green eyes followed the smoke upwards and he suppressed an exaggerative cough. Focus was then directed back to her while she spoke of Izzy. Once Eva introduced herself he nodded and cleared his throat to do the same.

“مرحباً ، أنا لايل”

He gulped and looked at Yasmin confused. Malicious whistling echoed in his mind and he could feel the demon move within.



“I mean, Hello. My name is Lyle.”



“Oh you can’t be serious. By her name we are to assume she is our friend. Arabic was the correct move there, don’t squander my influence.“
 
Enya's cold blue eyes stretched down the hall until they finally pierced Yazmin's. And of course, that look was still there. The one that spoke a million challenges without saying anything at all, complete with its attentive redirection as if the target wasn't worth Enya's time; or breath, for that matter. "So! Isadora!" she beamed.
"What do you say we do magick later? Nothing big, just a liiiiittle something I cooked up in my spare time. It'll be fun- promise."
Despite Isadora's stunning transformation, Enya was still a little bit taller, just a little bit prettier than the sophomore. She flicked a whiff of blonde hair from her eyes. An innocuous gesture, but those on the outside could see her pupils twitch downward. Was this her famous ability to catch every microexpression and subtle body movement? Her own telepathy; Satan knows it served her well last year. Or maybe Hell had truly frozen over and something more was happening here.
And just like that, her hand reached out to Isadora's arm. Just a gentle stroke, like a sunflower grazing a blade of grass.
Without waiting for a response, the prodigal witch pivoted on her heel and paced towards the dorm's stove. A cauldron sat atop the counter, flames licking its underside as steam rose from within. Slowly, however, Enya peered out the doorway and set her gaze on one of the girls standing next to Yasmine. Red hair, Molly was it? Her head tilted and she beckoned for the half-demon, eyeing her in the same way someone greets a new pet. As soon as Molly entered the room, a pair of fingers swished through the air and the door slammed shut.

"Guess you're our new roomie. Make yourself at home; you've given yourself to Satan so you don't have to worry about surviving the Harrowing. Lucky you. Our last guest didn't make it, you can take her bed. It's the bottom rightmost one. If you're wondering what smells like burnt pig guts mixed with ambrosia, don't worry about it. You'll just have to deal with it for the next few hours while my concoction brews."

[...]

Meanwhile, Yazmin led Lyle and Eva to their room. It was much like Enya's... well, every dorm was almost identical. Past the doorway, wooden floors and oak furnishings welcomed the pair into a seemingly archaic world. Crown moldings with intricate patterns lined each corner; to the left were the cabinets, the adjacent stove at the furthest end of the room, and four bunk beds on the right. Something akin to the knights' roundtable sat in the middle, yet left plenty of space to move around.
 
Molly looked the other girl up and down. She didn't seem too intimidating, but the casual way she used telekinesis showed that she was not to be messed with. The tiefling looked at the décor with what could only be described with mild distaste. "This place is so... blah. Where are the desecrated crosses, the demonic sigils scrawled in the blood of the innocent? You know, all the comforts of home?"

As Molly began to unpack, Enya mentioned that she would be able to avoid the Harrowing. Molly shook her head at the very notion of chickening out. "No, I'll go through with it. It's one thing to be bound to Hell by blood, another to be bound by deed. Besides, it'll show that I'm willing to do the work needed to survive here." She sniffed the air, wrinkling her nose in misery. "What are you brewing, anyway? Nothing that smells like that could be useful for anything, save maybe a drain cleaner."

Coldpopz Coldpopz
 
Footsteps echoed down the hallway, sharp clicks announcing her presence. It was a pointed move: Gella was not in the habit of moving aside for the sake of others, nor was she in the habit of looking where she was going. It did not help that she was always absorbed in the hand mirror she carried when she walked. Vain, she was, but she used this mirror for a different (though equally petty) cause. Namely, she was in the habit of using it to view entertainment pretty much non-stop, something made obvious by the fact that she was also in the habit of conversing about it to the skull hanging off her waist. Often the skull replied back in some Aramaic-derived patois that was barely intelligible to a fluent speaker, which also helped make it obvious when she was coming.

This she was doing as she neared the doorway to Molly and Enya's room, saying: "No, the hotel isn't supposed to make sense. You see, it's a reflection of-" She was cut off by the skull's reply, an echoing stream of that odd dialect, to which Gella rolled her eyes. "I have told you before, I do not care about Wells, he's-" Whatever she was to say would go unknown, for she had caught sight of the pair within. At this, she turned, leaning on the doorframe, letting the pair get a good look at her. She was tall and thin, a creature born of long lines and sharp angles, wearing a long single-piece dress down to her knees, bound by a thin belt at the waist. From this belt hung the aforementioned skull, with distant lights in it's sockets and an inscription in Aramaic on the forehead, just below a pair of jutting horns. Gella herself had a smaller pair, just visible beneath her short-cut black hair and just above her brown eyes.

After a moment's observation, she looked to Enya, rhetorically asking: "Enya, yes?" Before giving her a shrug in the direction of Molly. "Is this one new?"

To which she replied: "She is, Quartermaster. As I was about to tell her, we're a school, not some hedge cult that needs to prove just how evil we are. Anyway, this is Miss Gella. Whenever you need something like extra pillows or whatever, you go to her about it. Same thing for ingredients that are a little more... uncommon. Miss Gella, this is..." She glanced at Molly. "What's your name again?"

"Molly. It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Gella." The witch finished putting her away her sparse personal possessions. "And actually, I do need something. Do you have any diced basilisk kidney? I need a couple ounces for a mental focus potion I'm working on."

Gella raised an eyebrow at that. "Yes, but, a basilisk is a dangerous beast- and one with small kidneys, at that." She stood up from her calculated lean on the doorframe. "But that's not standard, you know- anything that's not provided as part of coursework or room and board is out-of-pocket and mind you-" She cracked her shoulder in a way that was distressingly ladlylike for something so crude. "-Cash, at least in the amounts students deal with, generally doesn't cut it for ingredients like that." Gella smiled, it demonstrated quite nicely that she was amused, but it was difficult to attach the term "warm" to something so very sharp.

"I could have it for you tomorrow. Hell, I could have it for you in ten minutes. Question is, what can you offer me for it?" She paused, then shrugged. "Oh, and for the record: I also do luxuries, stuff they won't serve here or won't ever give a student, anyway. Chocolate, new coke, classic coke (much more expensive), fast food, heaters, AC, you know, that sort of thing. That stuff will be cash- mostly." She added, in a slightly accelerated patter.

"Hmm." Molly thought for a minute as to what she could offer. "Do you do an installment plan? I could give you some of my blood on a regular basis, if you swear beforehand not to use it against me. My ingredients would be provided when I have paid in full. Or, I could cook for you. My dad has a magic cookbook, of all things. Contains every recipe ever conceived. I'll see what ingredients I can get my hands on, and go from there."

Gella considered this, leaning against the doorframe again. "Blood, yes, that could do.. hmm. No teeth? Stomach would be good- ah, speaking of!" She shook her head. "No, no cooking for me, that won't do. But-" Her eyes glinted in the light. "There is a recipe I need to get my hands on, if you could be so good as to provide it, that should do nicely."

"Alright, that sounds easy enough. You tell me what you're looking for, and I'll have it by the end of the day." Molly threw her hair back, trying to look a little more casual. The effect failed miserably.

She took a long look at Molly, then pulled up the skull, holding it in her right hand as the two conversed in a rapid-fire conversation, which ended with Gella giving it an affirmative nod before letting it drop back to her side. "Right, I need traditional xocōlātl, the older the better. Precolumbian will by necessity gain you a bonus, I am afraid." She said. "Now, if you can gain me that and neither of you have more requests, I must be off. Is that all?" She said, to both of the occupants.

Enya flashed a smile from underneath her dirty blonde locks, "That's all, Miss Greer. " While Molly said: "No, nothing more, I have everything I need."

"Excellent." Gella replied, with a nod, before turning and taking her leave.
 
While the two were led to their room, Eva spoke with Greer through their telepathic connection. "Those two girls seem... a bit scary. I wonder what they did to become that popular and that well... would feared be the right word? I think so." There was a pause before she continued. "About what you said earlier, I'm thinking it would be best to go unnoticed. Even if I /could/ come up with some sort of scheme to become popular or make people scared to mess with me, I don't really wanna get the wrong kind of attention. Or their attention in specific. Something tells me they don't take too kindly to competition. That's just me being a wuss though, probably. What'd you think of 'em?" Before she had the chance to continue blathering on about the topic, they arrived at their room.

The fact that her roommate was going to be a boy was surprising. But of course, this wasn't really a regular school so why would normal rules apply to it? Before their guide of sorts could leave, she nodded to her and thanked her once more with a genuine smile on her face. Perhaps Yasmin could become a friend in the future, she seemed really nice. After the thought, her mother's warning came to mind. Some long speech about people only putting on appearances and more likely than not having ill intentions. It could be possible but not everyone could be like that. There had to be some genuine people, even here. The brunette dispelled the thought from her mind. Unpacking had to be done, as well as getting acquainted with her roomie. Lyle seemed a bit odd, with the random Arabic and his general quietness. That might just be him being nervous though, she was too. New place and all, a very intimidating one at that.

She took her bag off her shoulder, going to plop it down on one of the beds before pausing. "Ah, wait, what bed do you want? I know it doesn't really matter but... still." She pulled the bag close and stepped away as if it was necessary to give him physical room to make his decision. Wanting to get a conversation going, Eva added on. "This is kinda weird, right? Not bad, exactly, just weird." Her free hand went to the nape of her neck, rubbing it slightly. The motion reminded her of her familiar, making her wonder if his inky form was there. "Maybe you could say hi or something, Greer?" She thought the familiar might have something to say, as he usually did. One of his qualities she enjoyed.
 
Greer considered Eva's concerns.
"Popularity is unlikely. Still, that leave plenty of options. Your best bet for the moment is to attach yourself to a group that at the very least will give you cover. Be the zebra in the center of the herd if you can't be a lioness. Of course how successful that can be depends on your ability to befriend others and fit in. And your willingness to let others be harmed to save yourself. There's a choice in everything if you know where to look. And you are in real danger here."

Feeling Eva stroke her back where he currently rested Greer made a movement comparable to a cat purring except without the accompanying sound. Hearing his Witch request his presence, Greer pulls himself off Eva's back and slides up to rest on her shoulder.

Greer surveys the other student in the room. A boy who didn't look like anything special. He looks down at him from his perch and says a single word.
"Hi."
Greer realizes Eva expected more from him, but if she can't handle something as simple as this without his help he's wasting his time with her.

Moving to the floor Greer starts nosing around the room looking for any new books he can find. As he passes the boy, Lyle, he sniffs and... wait...

Greer quickly coils back up Eva's leg and body until he's on her shoulder.
"The boy reeks of...something Demonic. I tasted...Arabic words." He sends through their telepathic link. "I think it best for me to remain near you."

Greer's mind races through the possibilities. There was nothing good about this. His own knowledge only extended to Northern American and some European Demon texts so he had no idea of what he was dealing with. For now he'd ensure Eva was with him but if the worst happened he needed to figure out a plan of escape.
 
For the second time, footsteps clicked upon the hall. This time, however, they were filled with purpose, their creator no longer distracted by the sights of their mirror. Instead, they were distracted by their ongoing conversation with the skull that was chained to their belt, now held in their hand. [I don't ?see? why you bother ?giving nice? to these ?scribes/cattle/royalty?] the skull said to her, the insular patois, a corruption of Aramaic that their kind speak, lending a baffling element to every conversation. Sometimes it was possible to gain a good idea of it's meaning, but other times it became utterly unintelligible. [?Dismissal?, it ?gives to me? I should think, also sometimes it is amusing. Speaking of...] Gella replied back, now stopping at the doorway, looking in. Now, those who knew the language, too, could read the description on the forehead of said skull: [Mother.]

To the room, she asked: "Are you the other new ones?"

Eva turned when she heard a voice at the door. The woman standing in the doorway was interesting, to say the least, the skull in her hand definitely added on. She had absolutely no idea what was being said, but she wished she knew. "Er, yes that would be us! My name is Evanora Garreth, nice to meet you, ma'am."

"Miss Gella, please." She replied, with a nod of her head.

"But, in any case." She told them, focusing her attention on Eva. "I am the quartermaster. I am responsible for your lodging arrangements and supplies. What you have now and what your course requires are free. Anything more than that: outside food, drink, better sheets, cockatrice feathers, gorgon eyes, whatever, must be paid for. I do not accept money." She paused. "But I am always willing to negotiate." She said, with a smile, tossing her head and hair back, just a little, to bring the small horns on her forehead, shared with those of the skull, into view.



Eva was surprised to see the horns on the woman's head but did her best to keep it from showing on her face. "Oh! So, what kind of things do you accept from students? I'm guessing it would depend on what they ask for- but I'm curious about what you've had them give you and whatnot. Er, is that an appropriate question to ask? Sorry if it's not, you don't have to answer that."

She smiled at that, it was a strange thing: it was a warm one, yes and it did indeed reach her eyes: but everything about it was just so slightly wrong. Like a mirror ever-so-slightly warped. "Well, now. Anything: from a favor to blood to art to, well, cash. Mind, it's not that I don't accept cash: it's just that most don't have nearly enough for anything of real worth. I've even had a few try to sell their souls, but-" She shrugged. "I have less of a use for that than you'd think. And those who would generally already have it in debt to some other power." She raised an eyebrow. "I don't appreciate that kind of double-dealing." Then, shaking her head, a firmness in her shoulders slumped away. "Not that I would accuse you of that. Though I do accept intangibles: voices, shadows, sight and such. Anyway, do you have any requests of your own?"

When the woman smiled, she did so as well. Despite it being a bit of an odd one, it didn't come across to her as forced or feigned. As she began to list off things she accepted from students as payments, her head bobbed up and down slightly to show that she was listening. Even though blood made it onto the list, she found it more interesting that the woman accepted art. "Huh, I thought souls would be of more use. Since that's usually a go-to, y'kno?" The young witch paused for a moment, trying to think of anything she would need. Nothing came to mind, she shook her head. "None that I can think of now, but if I ever do need something I'll come to you."

She bowed her head slightly. "Then I shall take my leave." Gella said, turning back to the hall, moving forward, then pausing long enough to say back to Eva "And Good luck with the harrowing, by the way." Before she left for good.

"Thank you," Eva called out to the woman. When she was gone she returned her attention to Greer.
 

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