• This section is for roleplays only.
    ALL interest checks/recruiting threads must go in the Recruit Here section.

    Please remember to credit artists when using works not your own.

Fantasy The Case of Lockheed Orphanage for the Supernaturally Gifted

Characters
Here
Lore
Here
Caretaker
Makoto Madiyarov
theme

Well, there it was; the ornament had at last fallen from its tree. Whether it met the ground with a shattering embrace of a thousand pieces, or remained whole and simply rolled off, was a matter of who exactly heard it fall.

For his younger counterpart, it shattered. Formidable though Jasper was in stature, Makoto had always understood him to be a peacemaker; preferring instead to not rock the boat and preserve what balance his troubled mind had left him.

But now, Abigail's body having floated up to the surface, the ensuing waves seemed to knock the gentle giant off-kilter. The sink creaked under his weight, face twisted to and fro by shock as he maintained his composure by a ship rope's thread. The pain in the Englishman's eyes was sharp and mocking and much too familiar. It called to him too, as if recognizing a past face.

Makoto gritted his teeth. His refusal to answer back led his eyes astray, landing on mouse-brown locks. Trembling faintly, a tear rolled silently down her paled cheek.

Makoto shifted, wishing he had some sort of handkerchief instead of the blonde wonder's knife. It was a British custom he never saw much use to pick up, until now. Though since arriving at the Orphanage, perhaps there had been every good reason to.

Setting the knife aside, Makoto opened his mouth, somewhat ready to offer the woman a few words of comfort. He shut it right back up at her hushed request, watching with tired, guarded but grateful eyes as she made her own offer.

At this point, it felt as natural as breath itself. Miles better than any paltry white cloth, Makoto produced his signature brass cigarette lighter. Alight with flame within moments, he lit Doris' first, taking the moment to glance over at the third man in the room.

Edgar Wells. A fellow wounded soldier who befriended sleep more than his duty most nights at the stairs. Though the sight of Makoto with Abigail in his arms certainly did the trick this time. For him, there was no shattering; the ornament had rolled off slowly, realization cementing as they locked eyes.

Did you hear...what I heard, Wells?
Did you see her shadow, her hands? How I ended back at the windowsill?

Behind him, the soft clink and swirl of dishwater were the only answers. Ever the diligent pupil, Uriel Grace's slender back was turned, wisely absorbed into her task.

Feeling the beginning bites of flame nest too comfortably next his fingers, Makoto stepped back from Doris, jaw angling to the side as he quickly lit his own cigarette.

Doris' question Makoto said nothing to, at first. With a snap, his lighter lost its flame and was tucked back into its proper place. He took a long drag, frayed nerves steaming back into temporary place before the smoke was let out.

Then, leaning against the kitchen mirror wall, he remembered his exchange with Frida.

"As much as they might look it, the kodomo are not stupid. I even witnessed it myself while dealing with our she-wolf, Frida. You all know it too. They will already be asking questions about her."

Makoto shifted again, his gaze meeting Doris' before following her lead. Switching onto Jasper and the other two, he made a mental note to try and find Solinas or Adelaide later.

"Christmas is around the corner," he continued steadily with a sort of military cadence, as if he were laying out the plan for the next trench charge. "Their lists for gifts this year are nearly drawn up. So, I say our best chance is to make Abigail's sudden disappearance..." Makoto took a breath in. "...look like just that. A gift. One that was in the making all alo---"

The kitchen doors burst open. Makoto had no time to turn and see who it was, only feel their charge towards him.
His hand had only just wrapped around his pouch, while the other lightly the knife, sitting centimeters away on the mirror ledge when little, lithe hands tugged at his coat. One or two lugnuts fell to the floor at the impact, breaking the shock holding Makoto captive.

It was none other than Olivia. Her cherry-hazel eyes were as big as saucers, taking up nearly all of her frame of four feet and eight inches. Makoto straightened from his leaned position, gingerly putting a hand across her spine.

"Tshh, tshh," came his voice, finally found and low, almost rumbling. He crouched down, hand still on her back, flicking glances between the doors and the rest of the caretakers. In an instant, they all knew it.

Something was wrong.

Makoto focused back on Olivia, his hand now rested firmly on her shoulder. His gaze softened for a moment.
"Sutte, sutte, haite..." went the little mantra, passed from mother to son, husband to wife, from father to daughter.

Breathe, breathe.
Let it out, Kairi.

"...let it out, Olivia," Makoto murmured, his bluntness almost making it stern. His eye traveled down her arms, catching on her right wrist a worrisome swell. It could have been as simple as a fall done in by a young girl's clumsiness. Yet her tears, this feeling emanating from her could only remind Makoto of one thing. Twisting his soldier's cap tighter, he put a gentle hand around her right wrist. "Start with this. Where did you fall? How? Was it Frida? Speak the truth, and Doris and I, and the others will take care of it."

CODE BY SEROBLISS / VALOROUS ORDER
 
Last edited:


Mateo Solinas
Ice, in his mind. In his thoughts, in his very being. The world twisted, slowing, and the flicker of the flame appeared sluggish as it curled up, up, up.

Familiarity. Her presence was hardly comfort, but he'd often bared his mind and hands to her. The only difference here was the tug, the insistent pull. As if his mind would be ripped free from his skull if he didn't give to the pressure and follow. There was no haste in his movement, only languid confidence. Mateo scooped up the book and tucked it into the pouch where the lantern usually resided, taking care to make sure it was secure. Then he allowed himself to move.

The back hallway had been so bright before, with the sun shining through the dusty windows and the clean snow piled up outside. It was less bright now. Perhaps a cloud had passed over the sun, a looming threat of another winter storm. The lantern was bright enough, however, illuminating the worn wooden walls with a soft steady glow.

How many steps had he taken? Was it one? Was it a dozen? He stood at the junction between the back hall and the front, but there was no moment of hesitation as he turned to the right and kept walking. He didn't hesitate as the yells began to ring out, nor at the patter of feet fleeing in the distance. Such things weren't uncommon noises in a house filled with children and, even if they were something to be concerned about, at the moment, her guidance was all he could focus on.

His feet stopped. It was by his own volition, or at least he thought it must be. The bathroom door was closed, Frida was in a midst of a panic, and Quinn's shoe was connecting again and again with the closed door. There was a last flicker of light, the flame shifting and curling upwards rapidly, before that light was gone and the cold hand carressing his mind went with it. There was a final touch of icy fingers before the world warmed and brightened once more in his eyes. He collapsed the lantern, turning his attention squarely to the two children before him, "Quinn, Frida, please explain your reasons for trying to break into the bathroom. I'm sure you have them and I'm hoping, for both your sakes, that they're quite good."


Location: Back hallway
Tags: CeaserXIX CeaserXIX Ghostiiys Ghostiiys
Mention: Quinn, Frida
 
CODE BY SEROBLISS
Frida Wagner
Location: In front of bathroom
Fridas Shriek had echoed down the hall, but by the time it reached the adults she was already sunken into the floor and in a flood of tears. Frozen, petrified. Olivia and Quinn were both doing something, whether that be running or trying to get back to the main objective. But Frida couldn't move, couldn't speak, couldn't concentrate. Grabbing at her neck, it was like she had forgotten how to form words.

From the floor Frida looked up at Quinn, the loud and consistent thuds in an attempt to break in made Frida cover her ears. Whatever had brushed her ankle had really freaked her out, the aura that was emanating from the whole area had become overbearing, but the frozen ice touch that slid off of her leg was the final straw. Was she freaking out over something small? With how quickly the feeling left her body, maybe it was just a cold gust of wind? Or maybe a bug? Something minuscule and just a coincidence to the creep factor that this whole situation exuded.

She wiped the tears off of her face, her bright golden hair had become disheveled by the fall, her knees scratched by the way she slumped so hard into the ground.

Mateo, A sort of hybrid between a caretaker and groundskeeper. The other orphans seemed to not mind him, but how could Frida be anything but upset by the tone of his voice? As if they were just causing a ruckus for no reason? She was on the ground for goodness' sake! But she couldn't be bothered as she felt like she was being sat on by a one-ton elephant, her limbs refusing to help her off the ground, her voice meek and her body shivering.

"Someone... Inside. It's Locked." Her voice sounded hoarse, the screaming she had done moments prior had been that of genuine fear and in turn, had made her throat dry and sore.

How pitiful she looked, like a lost child who was forgotten in a store, waiting for a worker to try to find her parents. Frida just pointed at the door in an attempt to gesture at what was already obvious. For some reason she felt embarrassed, Although Mateo was probably just confused at what was going on, Frida couldn't help but feel like he was just another adult who looked at her with contempt, a troublemaker, a bully, but this time she was serious!

She began to silently weep as she grasped at her ankle which felt chilled to the bone. She remembers being dragged by the ankles as a toddler when she was living at the children's home in the United kingdom.

"M-my ankle... My ankle.." She murmured repeatedly.

AmberV AmberV CeaserXIX CeaserXIX SavannahSmiles SavannahSmiles

 




































  • how she's feeling...



    Frightened

















Gwyneira



The Telepath













It was hard to put a name to her feelings when they fluctuated so often in the presence of Colette. While this new feeling was a lot better than what she felt back in the breakfast hall, a wave of nausea rolled over her. Her emotions were being challenged a little too often and like most people, she assumed, she didn't like it. Gwyn accepted the feeling all the same though, relishing in the warmth that started from her tippy-toes and ascended upwards. It worked at least, if not in making her feel marginally better, it aided as a distraction-- If only brief.

She swallowed--Hard. Her throat sore from the absent of words used, the feeling akin to that like sandpaper: Rough, coarse.
If they were going to do this, it needed to be done now.

Just before she moved, a resounding bang shook the door. The vibrations sent a sharp signal to Gwyn that it was time to get going; she answered. She turned her head to glance towards the door and noticed the splintering that taunted and teased at the bottom of wooden problem. Hopefully, she thought, they'd understand why she had locked it.
Not feeling overly great about the aftermath to come of this whole event, Gwyn pushed forward and held her palms up towards the frantic flapping of the avian. Gwyn posed no threat, at least not to a bird.
"P-Please..."
She sounded out, her voice a little cracked at how unused it had become.
"Calm d-down."
Honestly, if she didn't believe she'd lose her own eyes, an attempt to befriend the bird would've happened.

Reaching Colette, Gwyn timidly reached out her hands to the mirror and curled her fingers around the cold glass until she felt the back of it. She'd always hated staring at her reflection for too long and here she was, almost nose-to-nose with it in an uncomfortable space. Forced to gaze upon her appearance, she truly was a mess.
Her usual plain appearance was framed by an unusual, dishevelled birds nest of golden hues. Blood smudged beneath her nose and up towards her right ear; obviously being brushed up that far from her earlier escapades. To call herself a mess was a compliment at this rate.

With a troubled sigh, she hoisted the mirror up, holding onto it so it wouldn't slip and shatter. Steadying it against the basin, Gwyn swivelled the reflective glass upside down and returned it to its prior position against the hangnail.
"What now?"
she spoke swiftly, her voice dripping with fear. She would have reverted back to the connection between their minds only if the headache hadn't returned as more people crowded the door outside.

Gwyn stepped back from the mirror, allowing Colette to do what she needed. As she stood silently, the girl wrung her fingers together; the coldness biting at her exposed flesh, gloves long gone and lost to the dingy floor, stepped upon and crunched beneath feet.

There was a pounding in her ears, it was a reminder of the seashells from the seaside. Her mother always told her that the sound was the ocean, her brothers ruined the magic of it all for the realism of reality; That's your blood, he'd say selfishly.
She understood it now.

The scream that tore from outside set her heart plummeting to her stomach. A new wave of sickness washed over her, and a peculiar feeling sat in the pit: Dread.













































♡coded by uxie♡
 
Quinn
- Desperately attempting to knock down the bathroom door
- Ghostiiys Ghostiiys AmberV AmberV

As the sounds of his foot thumping against the door reverberated throughout his ears, Quinn began to drown out the world around him, focused only on breaching the bathroom, still reeling from the ice cold grip from before, a feeling all too familiar to him, the events of the night prior burned into his mind.

Before long, a familiar voice echoed into his ears, the sound of the slowly splintering door now following after the voice, a voice Quinn had associated with safety and comfort since the day he arrived to the orphanage, causing him to pause his assault on the door, and turn to Mateo, seeing the man face to face now, and immediately turned to Frida, his concern shifted from breaching the door to calming her down, moving over to her side, crouched down as he turned back to Mateo. "Somethin' is goin' on behind that door, ya' gotta get it open, Mateo,' he quickly explained, as he wrapped his left arm around Frida's shoulder, trying to pull her out from her panicked state, calmly whispering comforting words to her, trying to ease her mood as he looked back at the door.​
 
Last edited:
Sybela Sybela Feral Feral

You hear something slam against the door and the thought of something coming for you pressed heavier against your heart as the mirror turned...

Then, the mirror shimmered. You look at Colette and find her expression paling. In fact, she appeared almost like a doll and when she looks at you, you find that her eyes have blackened completely. Her skin cracked and peeled like old wallpaper and before your very eyes, you watch Colette crumble away, like porcelain leaves lost to the wind.

The raven croaks and stares at you. You look at your hands and find that they were paling and flaking too. When you look back up at the raven, you find its body has also begun to wither away, until all that was left were a few a brittle feathers. Even those did not last, for when they landed, nothing but dust remained.

You half expected yourself to die then. A finger fell from your hand, then a hand from your arm, but instead of losing yourself, you felt a sense of vertigo, almost as if you were being transported somewhere. The room spins and spins, dizzying you to no end so you focus on the only thing that wasn't spinning, the mirror. For that moment, the entire world was turning except the mirror which you had just hung on the wall. And then... it stopped.

You come to again with Colette beside you, as she was, with her rosy pink hair and fair complexion and you got your hands back. Around you, however, was not the same bathroom you were in. Likely not even the same orphanage. This bathroom was old, decrepit and abandoned. The walls and ceiling sagged with age and smelled of mold and mildew. The wash bin was responsible for the stench as it was entirely conquered by a black mold that grew like a cancer and pulsed like sickly veins. Above you hung black roots that reached out to you like fingers. Even the cabinets were water rotted and standing limply against the wall. A single flickering lightbulb illuminated the space but you weren't sure how much it would last you. The mirror and the papers, however, remained intact and unchanged. At the very least, you received some solace in that regard.

The raven landed on Colette's shoulders and cleared its throat.

"Well, then," it said, deep and throaty, "Welcome to the Other."

For those outside the bathroom, the presence that was previously present has since faded away...
 






Colette.




filler



filler



filler



filler



filler



filler






  • home (filler tab)



































Backroom Labyrinth










Cole paused, flinching harshly at the bang on the door, Mon Dieu, whoever that was, should stop that incessant banging at once...

She ignored the anxious raven as they turned the mirror over.

Pursing her lips as she set down the upside-down mirror. Her eyes fell onto her own self, a reflection. A piercing pair of brownish eyes stared back matching her own.

Her cheeks were stained from a torrent of tears, her eyes were scratched up, and her hair a mess. Je ne suis pas dans mon assiette.

Her heart thumped in her ears, and she was feeling woozy. But... She had to keep going. Else she misses out on something that may somehow help her find Abigail. Though Cole had a sinking feeling that all was for naught.

Cole's long, thin fingers reached to touch the mirror, they were almost skeletal in reality, most of her was in all honesty, but that's what a ballet dancer must do to thrive in a competitive scene.

Her fingers made contact. Cold. Her breath hitched, what if nothing happened? What if-

Frida's scream reached her ears, and Cole almost turned, but her feet were stuck in place.

Then she was gone. Cracked, away. To the Other.

It worked. It had worked.

Cole almost laughed and danced in delight. Her aura had stopped pulsing and her emotions had returned to their previous state in the chaos but didn't dampen her mood, she ignored this joy, it wasn't meaningful at this time. She had something more important to accomplish.

Her eyes flickered to the bird. Then to Gwyn. Well... They would have to trust each other now. No matter what. May we survive. The both of us, whole and well. God wish us luck...

She thought to Gwyn, who she realized must've heard all silence but her, jarring perhaps from what was loud before. Cole projected a wave of comfort and sympathy at the girl, not her ability... Just her emotions.

Then Cole steeled herself.

"Who are you? What do I call you?" Her soft melodious voice asked slightly shaking, and she took a deep breath before stopping herself from asking about Abigail. It wouldn't do to trust so blindly, the black of the room made her body rush with chills, she mustn't touch it.

She sent a warning to Gwyn too, just in case. No, it wouldn't be wise to trust anything here, save for her new friend, and even then others could play a false doll of the girl, though Cole doubted they'd have the same ability as she.

Je te protégerai... de ça. Tu peux donc me faire confiance et je te protégerai. Je vous protégerai au prix de ma vie, chère amie.

Cole projected security the best she could, and she was good at emotional projection, it was how her power functioned. Using it without the drain of her ability?

Well, it was almost refreshing to know someone would feel it. Especially right now.

( Mon Dieu = My God. | Je ne suis pas dans mon assiette. (I am not in my seat) = I am out of sorts. |
Je te protégerai... de ça. Tu peux donc me faire confiance et je te protégerai. Je vous protégerai au prix de ma vie, chère amie. = I will protect you... from this. So you can trust me... and I will protect you. I will protect you with my own life, my dear. )





♡coded by uxie♡
 


Mateo Solinas
Mateo was used to Frida's fiery temper. He had watched her and Makoto butt heads on dozens of occasions and the scene at the breakfast table this morning was just another incident at the end of a long list of incidents involving Frida's worst tendencies. But watching her weep, clutching at herself, pushed all thoughts of such troubles to the back of his mind. One of the children in their care was terrified.

Make that two. Quinn's incessant kicking had stopped, though the door was clearly on its last legs, but he knew the boy well enough to know that this was not merely one of Quinn's temper tantrums. He had seen those before. This was closer to panic, desperation. Fear. He could only guess as to what they'd seen and heard that would drive them to this state, but, given the apparent disappearance of Abigail, Mateo was inclined to believe they had their reasons. And the door was already going to need repairs anyways.

He ruffled Quinn's head, leaned down to give Frida's shoulder a little squeeze, then stood upright to face down the door. The wood was splintered, though not horribly, and he would hope that the lock itself wasn't too badly damaged. He gave the doorknob a little jiggle, just a test to see if the kicking had shifted anything at all, then pulled out ring of keys from his pocket and began to flick through them. Mateo was fairly certain he didn't have a key to open the bathroom door, but he had something that might do the trick. He pulled out a bottle opener and began to sidle it between the door. He'd gotten it years ago, long before the orphanage, and had originally only kept it to use the punched hole as a gas key. However, it was thin enough and strong enough to be useful for a variety of other things and he once again thanked his younger self for enjoying a fair amount of beer.

The bottle opener creaked as the metal bit into the wood, prying at the door. He could tell, just by a first few initial pushes, that Quinn had already done a significant amount of work on the lock itself. It was a matter of another minute of careful prying before the lock popped and gave. He quickly wiped his hands on his pants before gripping the doorknob and shoving his shoulder into the door, finally forcing it open and getting his first look at the inside of the bathroom.

A completely normal bathroom. Empty. With an empty wall where the mirror should be. He rubbed his jaw for a moment before beckoning the children in after him.


Location: Back hallway
Tags: CeaserXIX CeaserXIX Ghostiiys Ghostiiys
Mention: Frida, Quinn, Makoto
 
Last edited:
Jasper Cummings
Tags: Doris, Paperface Paperface - Makoto, Kovacs Kovacs - Olivia, SavannahSmiles SavannahSmiles
Location: Kitchen

Untitled.png​
Anger radiated off the man.

Breathe. His mother's voice came to mind: soft, warm, consoling, and comforting. He swallowed thickly, trying his best to redeem his composure. There was no use ruminating about the loss; Abigail was dead. What mattered now was preventing the others from succumbing to the same fate.

Jasper stared down at the tranquil water, dots of soap interrupting the serenity. His chest still hurt, and Doris’ response was laid forgotten behind him. His mind was anywhere but the kitchen; he needed to calm down.

He lessened the amount of weight he put on his hands and touched his face gingerly to check for any tears that may have escaped without his permission. He found a few small droplets on his cheeks and quickly wiped them away. He was thankful to know his face wasn’t too flushed and could easily be fixed.

Jasper could only catch the end of Makoto’s monologue and barely got enough context to realize that they were discussing what to tell the rest of the children. A gift? The irony of the situation made the sides of his mouth twitch. Were we to tell them that she went on a trip then?- but before he could give the idea much thought, shrill screaming had reached his ears, and the kitchen doors swung open harshly. He instinctively turned to the sound of the noise, worry already working intricately to disguise his grief.

Brown hair darted across the tiled floor, and tiny hands latched themselves onto Makoto. There was little time needed in recognizing the form of the kind-natured girl, “Olivia?” Jasper asked the child softly, seeing her frightened state. Did someone scare her?
 
Last edited:
They were probably busy, Ethel thought, and she wanted to find out why. She just stuck her nose into people's businesses like that sometimes. Then she realized: what if they weren't near there? They could be anywhere else, but since the dining hall was recently departed, wouldn't it make sense to go to the kitchens first. She just had to figure out where it was. It made sense to try to room near the dining hall first. And that's exactly what she did.

Ethel arrived through the kitchen door, and she saw the caretakers. She wasn't scared, though, just confused. And she noticed Oliva as well.
"Are you guys okay? Did you see a spider?" Ethel didn't know if this constituted sneaking up on the caretakers, but she really needed to know what was going on.
"The spider must have been big, maybe the size of your open hand." They were still facing away from her.
Ethel then gasped,as she thought about her latest conspiracy "The cooks are conjuring the large spiders. I knew it! They're evil! First they gave some of us food poisoning, and now this!"
She had arrived after just after Jasper addressed something to Olivia, but didn't hear what. Still, Ethel knew something was going on if the caretakers were converging together. Was it a cult? As Ethel thought this, she wanted to protect Olivia, but she knew the three caretakers could take her down. What could she do?

Tags: Doris, Paperface Paperface Paperface Paperface - Makoto, Kovacs Kovacs Kovacs Kovacs - Olivia, SavannahSmiles SavannahSmiles SavannahSmiles SavannahSmiles , Jasper housegoat13 housegoat13
 
Doris MartinDoris_Martin.jpg
The snap of a flame being born drew Doris' gaze down to the cigarette held between her fingers. She noted that her hand was still shaking despite her desire to put up a composed front. It made sense. She was trying to appear composed, but she did not believe herself to be. As the flame of Makoto's brass lighter drew near to ignite her cigarette, she could only trade her feigned calm expression for one genuine and more perplexed. The cold chill of a regretful loss was fading away thanks to the gentle warmth against her fingers. A flame that would never stand a chance against a breeze had melted away the freezing grasp of death plaguing her thoughts.

As she brought the lit cigarette to her mouth, it felt like a heavy burden grew lighter. When it naturally found her lips, she took a long drag and found an oasis of clarity amidst her frantic thoughts. It was no longer a desire to compose herself. She knew she could. At least for the time being. With her mind no longer held hostage by thoughts of death and despair, she rested her gaze on Makoto and let out a plume of smoke. She had posed her question, and now she would await an answer from the man before her. They would resolve this issue, as they had done in the past.

It took a moment for Makoto to speak his mind, but she could only agree with him once he did. Their cover for this tragedy would have to be a joyful one. She was never taken. She went willingly. She was... adopted, in a way. She nodded along, but before she could reassure herself by asking for clarification, the kitchen doors flung open violently. Doris barely had a moment to register what was happening before the small form collided with Makoto. “Olivia?” She questioned in tandem with Jasper, utterly confused as the girl latched onto the man with the intention of never letting go.

Makoto responded as if it were second nature to him. Of course, she had dealt with these situations herself over the years, but it had never become natural to her. There was always this hesitance she could not put aside. Internally, she reasoned that assisting Makoto might result in the young girl getting overwhelmed, and then they would get no further in resolving the underlying problem. As such, Doris refrained from stepping in. Makoto appeared in no need of assistance either way. Instead, she turned her gaze to Jasper and cleared her throat. “Perhaps the troubles during breakfast boiled over in our absence?”

- - - - - - - - - -
Location: Kitchen
Interaction: Makoto ( Kovacs Kovacs ), Jasper ( housegoat13 housegoat13 ), Olivia ( SavannahSmiles SavannahSmiles )
Mentions: N/A
 

















mood



Scared



location



Kitchen



outfit



Warm Winter Clothes



mentions



Makoto



tags



Kovacs Kovacs













Olivia








Her trembling hands clenched tighter around his coat as if she were afraid whatever had grabbed her out in the hallway would return to snatch her away. Another small sob escaped her as Makoto crouched down to her level, settling one hand on her spine and another on her right wrist that was throbbing with pain. Her eyes squeezed shut as she inhaled a quick breath, then another, trying to focus on the warmth she could feel emitting from his hand to help ground her.

She heard Ethel's voice pipe up from behind her, asking if she had seen a spider. Olivia shook her head frantically at the question. No, no, it had definitely not been a spider. Inhaling one last breath, she let it out slowly as her eyes fluttered open. Her lips part once more as she began to try and explain what happened in a shaky tone of voice.

"We...We heard a thumping noise from the guest bathroom b-but when we knocked on the door no one answered. Then..." Another quick inhale as she tried to steady her nerves. "Something grabbed my ankle. It...It was so cold." Her voice cut off as a shudder shook her small frame, her mind trying to shy away from the memory. "Then something shoved me and I fell. I...I was scared and I ran..."

Her head tipped forward slightly as her gaze fell to the floor. "I left Frida and Quinn at the bathroom and ran here." She admitted, a shameful expression filling her features as she peeked up at Makoto.









nine lives

 
Jasper Cummings
Tags: Doris, Paperface Paperface - Makoto, Kovacs Kovacs - Olivia, SavannahSmiles SavannahSmiles
Location: Kitchen

Untitled.png​
Out of Jasper’s peripheral, he could see Doris turn towards him, and he made eye contact with her accordingly. He lowered his gaze in thought for a mere second before looking up again in response to her speculation, “It could be probable,” he agreed, “We have been unavailable for quite some time now...”

Furthermore, he saw the slender form of Ethel enter the kitchen and shook his head at her words, partly because he didn’t want to deal with the obnoxious teenager right now, and he didn’t believe Olivia would get so worked up over a spider. He sighed tiredly when the undeterred girl continued an illogical rampage anyways, vocalizing her newest theory. He didn’t bother to engage in a conversation with Ethel as it would prove to end in a headache for himself.

He diverted his attention back to Olivia and was relieved when she began to speak, however, the details of her story were easy to brush off as a delusion of an overreactive imagination. Someone must’ve tried to play a trick on her, caught her off guard, and shoved her to the ground. Her last line gave him a hunch as to who may have been held responsible or at least who might’ve been privy to more details of the story. “Are you hurt?” he asked Olivia, wanting to check on the girl before he tried to pursue anything else.
 
CODE BY SEROBLISS
Frida Wagner
Location: In bathroom
Frida had leaned forward to look into the bathroom. Shock, confusion, and desperation were the emotions that she displayed. She could have sworn that someone was in there, she heard the noises, and the thumping was definitely not a figment of her imagination.

''This has got to be a joke." Frida rose up to have a better view. She was about to boil over in rage, what was Mateo going to think? Would he blame them for breaking a door down just for the hell of it? Almost jumping off the ground, she stumbled a bit before grabbing Quinn by the sleeve and pushing him in front of her. Even if she was getting upset she was still scared.

"You go in first" She ushered him before peeking over his frame. She could see the way Mateo was perplexed, she couldn't help but cringe at herself. Why was this happening? What was going on?

I swear I heard something, Mateo... I swear it! She scanned the whole room from top to bottom. "Ugh! What is this?!" Even Frida couldn't help but scratch her head, maybe this was all just a prank? But who would do something so scary and not reveal themselves?

However, she stopped in her tracks once she noticed she had stepped on something. Lifting her leg and squinting her eyes to focus on it before gasping. "Wait a minute isn't that.. Gwynerias?!" Frida knew of Gwyn's odd fixation with being touched and always wore those wacky gloves, Frida even remembers hiding them a long time ago just to watch her panic.
"There is absolutely no way she would take them off right? She was the one in the bathroom the whole time?" Although the gloves had been stepped on it was obvious who it belonged to. Gwyneria would rarely take them off as she hated being touched and touching others. Frida noticed some red specks on the ground and on the gloves before her eyes widened.

"Ew! Is that blood?"

CeaserXIX CeaserXIX AmberV AmberV
mentions: Sybela Sybela
 




































  • how she's feeling...



    Frightened

















Gwyneira



The Telepath













Suffocating under intense fear wasn't something she thought would be her death, it was odd, really, but as she stood before the mirror and watched as the flesh peeled from Colette's beautiful face, it didn't seem like such an impossible demise. Horrified, the young teenager bared witness to the loss of digits and eventual limbs and, as Colette vanished from her view, Gwyn felt completely and utterly alone.

She was lost to her own mind, frantically looking around as if pleading for some sort of visual of Colette, she was alive...Right? She had to be!
Goddamn it!
Gwyneira screamed at herself, eyes stinging as tears welled, and glossed, over her sight leaving it but a blur.
And then, a croak. The raven was back, it's five eyes reminding her of the events in the washroom, not that she could forget them with where she had ended up. The ferocious wringing of fingers lead to her eventual downcast of eyes as her own digits pulled off and fluttered the same way Colette's had and then...Gwyn was falling.

Sickness sped through her; bile rising in her corporeal form that stood next to the form of the lithe ballerina. It took her a moment to collect herself, the dizzy spell still sweeping over, the sound of ringing reminding her of a bomb that had been set off. With closed eyelids, she felt her eyes roll continuously behind them, furthering the vertigo that chilled her body until it all just stopped.

She fell to her knees, retching forward but coughing up nothing but descending tears that trailed down her bloodied cheeks. The fausty smell attacked her nostrils, the stench enough that she had wiped her hand to the back of her lips and then cupped her nose in an attempt to rid herself of the lingering rot that tampered with the air. They were no longer in the orphanage but in some hazardous, dangerous place instead.

Gwyn staggered to her feet, holding her hands out in front of herself as if steading her balance, not that it worked well as she wobbled about. Now that they dwelled in the realm of the raven, it decided to speak. Questions danced against her tongue, but she held back for the moment; Allowing Cole to be the first to ask.

A quiet hum vibrated in her mind; a gentle lull compared to the harsh cacophony that usually stabbed at her brain. Colette's soothing voice coated her mind with such a caring gesture that Gwyn actually smiled, only briefly but it had been there. There was a touch of excitement to her tone, definitely a product of getting closer to finding out answers.

To her own astonishment, Gwyn reached out tentatively and took hold of the fabric from Cole's shirt; She held it, comforting herself in this area of misery and foreboding death.
Colette, Diolch yn fawr.
She sent towards the girl through their link of mind.
Thank you.
Gwyn followed up, quickly translating the comment to express her gratitude.

Without Cole she would have been lost. The absolute depiction of a lamb to the slaughter Gwyn had become and she knew, she was absolutely sure, she would have died if it hadn't been for the pretty girl that stood next to her with a steely confidence, despite the tremble in her speech.
Gwyn listened to the question, she listened to the answer and then she thought until her own lips, that had turned a hue of blue from the coldness she felt, parted.

“What is this place?"
She questioned the raven, her heavy accent melding to the words she spoke with fear.
where are we? “


Riddles became her answer in the form of a croaky voice, a voice that penetrated her eyes with a slight crackle to the tone of it. Uncomfortable, harsh to the ears.
"What is more important is where you are not, and you are not in the house of your Mistress. If you’ve any hope to return, remove the mirror from the wall so that she cannot reach through and shatter it." Gwyn mulled over the crypticness, unsure of what to make. Hopefully Cole would have some sort of idea for she hadn't the foggiest.

Gwyn shuffled her footing, putting more weight on her left side as she finally decided to ask another question, feeling her mouth run dry at even the thought of it.
"A-Are we...Alive?"
The question was painful to ask, her heartbeat steadily increasing with each passing moment. Gwyn felt the blood rush to her head, the ringing in her ears louder than ever. It was at that point she realised that what she heard wasn't ringing but static...Everything was static. Trembling with anguished fright, she turned to Colette with wide eyes.

A low chuckle startled her, the tone lingering mournfully.
"For now..." The raven turned its head like an owl with a crick in its neck, all the way around to face Gwyn, "Though I'm afraid I've given you quite a bit of information without compensation. I do not dole out secrets for free. I would like one in return."
A cold sweat drowned her body with an attack of shivers and spine-tingling jolts. Gwyn was panic-stricken, unable to tear her eyes from Colette as her fingers curled in the fabric she held and clung to her with dear life. The touch of someone always made her want to vomit and scream but now? She couldn't help but want to be as close to the pinkette as possible. She needed this safety net for her mind was not working as it usually did. Gwyn was helpless, she couldn't hear anything and she didn't like it. Not one bit.













































♡coded by uxie♡
 
Last edited:
Quinn
- Currently investigating the bathroom trying to discover the source of the commotion
- Ghostiiys Ghostiiys AmberV AmberV Sybela Sybela

As Frida dragged the young man to his feet, taking position behind him, Quinn slowly moved into the bathroom, moving his eyes along the bathroom, his inquisitive nature driving him further within, investigating further. As he looked around, he could still feel the cold grip, not yet leaving his mind as his body moved around the bathroom.

At the mention of blood, Quinn turned his head in Frida's direction, noticing the bloodied glove in her grip, and almost immediately glided over to her, kneeling down and gently lifted her filled hand to his eye level, looking down at it, scanning over it. The blood wasn't as much of a shock to him, he was well aware that Gwyn was more than accustomed to frequent nose bleeds, but what struck him as odd was, "Gwyn...never takes her gloves off. 'Tis like me left hand," he muttered to her, lifting up his gloves left hand, always hiding the mark underneath the old leather, "but what I'm wonderin' is, where the bloody 'ell is the lass?"

The entire situation gave him a horrid feeling, his gut sinking as he looked around, his thoughts jumping to and fro, making him question everything. Where was Gwyn? Where was Colette? What was going on? Then, his mind froze on one thought, a thought that has been haunting him since the night prior. No longer able to hold the thought in, Quinn quick glanced towards Mateo, adjusting himself a bit more to hide his lips from his view, before looking up at Frida, making a soft, "Shhhh," noise to her, indicating to talk in hushed tones, before leaning in close to her, keeping his eyes down at the glove. "I saw Abby last night, while out on me nightly stroll. She was runnin' into the woods, in pitch darkness. Made no right sense, yea? Well, I saw Makoto chase after her, right, and manage to snag her, so I followed 'em, keepin' to the shadows as I did, just in case I needed to vanish. I watched Makoto go up the staircase, ya' know, the one that leads no where, except it fockin does. It's gotta' be right in the moonlight to show it. But...that's not the problem, yea. When I saw Abby in the light, Frida...she looked dead. Pale as snow, and limp as drift wood. I'm not sure if she is or not, but wha' I do know, is there's somethin' goin' on 'ere, and it's not bloody right," he whispered, low for only the two of them to hear, yet entailing he wasn't done, "the scariest thing, though...that thing that grabbed our ankles, yea, I felt the same thing last night, except it wasn't no hand. I felt somethin'...breathin' behind me, right on me neck. Somethin', or someone...is watchin' us, and it's not somethin' normal," he softly muttered, beginning to slowly piece together what may be going on as he spoke. "An' I think, whateva' this thing is...has Gwyn an' Abby. I haven't seen Abby since last night, and Gwyn was obviously 'ere." He finished, his hand shaking as he finished, his voice having begun to waver as he spoke, tears beginning to viciously slide down his cheeks as fear took hold once more.
 
1926
adelaide furse
locations
Storage > Kitchen > Bathroom
interactions
Professor, people in the kitchen, Mateo, Frida, Quinn
mentions
Makoto
On Sundays, Adelaide liked to be one of the first to welcome the delivery men in.

Not of any good faith, of course, but rather that, if she was quick, she'd be able to swiftly pick up her item, store it, & head off for her daily duties. Today, however, she'd been expecting a nice pair of Oxfords. Hers had just about ran their course, so here she was: stood freezing, arms crossed around herself, beside the professor as they awaited for the deliverymen to pull out the supplies towards the deep end of their truck bed.
Of all things pertaining to the upkeep of clothing, shoes were out of her control; she was no cobbler, after all. The shame was that, since she was only expecting shoes, which she could easily slip on, came also an expectation to aid in the unloading. Rather brutish to ask of a lady like herself, but who was she to argue with the men who'd simply begun to hand her boxes. After all, Makoto had headed back inside with the last of the milk sets, leaving her as the next set of open arms for the deliverymen.
"Breakfast must've started, then..." She thought aloud. "Best hurry." When it came to the professor, she often spoke idly towards him, even if little-to-no reply came. In truth, they didn't have much in common & it wasn't often that she saw him; when the kids had their lesson, she was off to do laundry and other duties of the like. Of all the staff at Lockheed, though, Adelaide found the least fault in him, so conversation went comfortably regardless.

A few more boxes slotted into their spots on the shelf later and soon it seemed that week's deliveries were taken care of. By the time they ended, the clatter of dishes coming back into the kitchen could be heard, at which Adelaide sighed. So she'd missed breakfast, she thought to herself miserably. Every week, to some degree, she'd ended up having to help out & not once did it ever become easier. Frankly, since Christmas was close again, it seemed to have gotten harder! Of all days, today was not one to miss a meal.

As they wrapped, the building usual ambience could be heard even from Adelaide's place within storage. Nothing particularly able to made out clearly, of course; even in the kitchen nearby, what was spoked in hushed voices came only as muffled chatter through the storage's door. Yelling, however, was very distinct, even distantly.
Particularly, one shout made her halt in her organizing; screams weren't uncommon in a children's home, as ominous as that sentence seemed. Kids often played viciously & weren't above things like practical jokes, so Adelaide initially thought nothing of it. Even if she did, surely someone closer would've gone to deal with it. It was when the slam of the kitchen's heavy doors shook the walls that she huffed. Aloud, she hissed, "That's it!"

In an snit, she opened the storage door when the small squeak of a familiar voice made her hesitate on swinging it open fully. Instead, she peered through the crack it made: "We... We heard a thumping noise from the guest bathroom b-but when we knocked on the door no one answered..."

The bathroom, Adelaide thought, Perhaps I ought to have Professor accompany me there. Some oddity, surely? She listened until the end. When Olivia's little voice wavered off, Adelaide straightened up with a huff. At perhaps record breaking rate, Adelaide short fused. How was it that, with the near entirety of the orphanage's staff in one room, not one made so much as a step, that Adelaide could see, towards that bathroom poor Olivia had just ran from? It truly baffled her. Face flushed, she hurriedly waved over the professor to follow her into the kitchen.

"Having a nice little chat, are we? Little Olivia's stood here in tears and we're all sat in audience, hm?" She huffed out in that even tone she used around the children, as she stepped into the kitchen. Oddly, the air in the room felt stiff; that if she breathed in, she'd suffocate from the weight of it. Had she missed something? Regardless, she went on, moving through the crowd as she did, "Well, I — pardon me, dear — must be off for there's mention of both Quinn and Frida left victim to one of the children's boogeymen in the bathroom and I must be the one to investigate," At this point, she'd stood beside the kitchen's door, holding it open for the professor, "Because Lord knows it'd take a miracle to stir any one of you.

"Well then, offer the girl some milk for heaven's sake. Something!" In a huff, she'd let the door swing behind her as a final emphasis, mindful of not letting it slam so as not to disturb Olivia any further. Really, what prank had her in so many tears? From a distance, though, her gossip could still be heard, clear with an incredulous tone and a more impassioned inflection: "Honestly, what luck that Olivia thought to seek us out. If something were to happen, how long would those girls have sat in terror in the middle of the hall before any of those goldbricks were to notice? The thought just... ugh!"

Adelaide has taken to ranting for a little while longer towards the professor until they'd turned a corner & saw Quinn, accompanied by Mateo. Oh, thank God that one of the kids Olivia had mentioned was already being tended to. At least one of the caretakers had half a brain about them. She hurried to the sight, sensible to take out one of the handkerchiefs, ready to offer it at a given notice.

The professor and Adelaide stepped in at around the same time Frida made an exclamation of having found blood. At it, Adelaide cleared her throat, "I've brought the professor. What's this about blood?"
code by @Nano
 


Mateo Solinas
Mateo let out a long sigh, lantern still clutched tightly beneath his arm as he began a slow walk around the small bathroom. It had been closed and locked from the inside, but such a thing wasn't impossible to be done from the outside. Especially for one like Frida. His gaze slowly turned to her. He had seen her move things with her mind many times. He imagined that locking a door by peering through the keyhole was something she was capable of, though he had certainly never seen her do so.

He also imagined that Frida, determined to appear strong and in control, wouldn't risk losing face by sitting and crying in the hallway for her prank. No, the two of them would have rather set up the situation and let one of the younger orphans wander in to scare themselves.

But something had to have happened here. Her eyes would not have been on him and She would not have brought him here for something so simple as a few of the children playing a harmless prank and locking the door. His eyes flicked towards where the mirror should hang. The children wouldn't steal a mirror. Out of everything, the mirror was the most confusing of all.

The book he had found sat heavy in the bag at his hip. This was only growing more and more confounding by the minute.

A small sniffle caught his attention and he started, realizing he'd disappeared into thought and hadn't been paying attention. The children were crouched, whispering to one another and Mateo could see tears running down Quinn's cheeks. His hands slowly tightened into fists. So, not a prank at all. Something had terrified Frida and Quinn, something more than a few noises behind a locked door.

Mateo stood for a moment, struggling to think of the comforting words that the others might have offered. He'd never been particularly good at that part. He was the youngest of his family and had never had any children of his own, so this sort of thing had never been something he'd learned. But he was always willing to try.

He stepped towards the two, clearing his throat, "Now now. Everything is okay. No need to cry." Ah, yes. It appeared he was still not particularly good at that part.

What a relief, then, when Adelaide arrived with the Professor in tow. He gave her a long, thankful look, "Ah, Ms. Furse. It appears the children heard some noises in the bathroom that shook them. I'll also need to repair the door, the latch became stuck and we had to force it open." He glances towards the glove, "And Gwyn had a nosebleed at the breakfast table, she must have left her glove behind after cleaning herself up."


Location: Bathroom
Tags: Ghostiiys Ghostiiys mizton mizton CeaserXIX CeaserXIX
Mention: Frida, Quinn, Adelaide, Gwyn
 






Colette.




filler



filler



filler



filler



filler



filler






  • home (filler tab)



































Backroom Labyrinth










Seeing her companion so out of sorts dampened Cole's excitement, she had to be careful. Survival was necessary after all.

Cole had almost jerked when she felt a tug on her shirt, a glance told her it was Gwyn, despite not interacting much, Cole knew the girl's dislike of touch, and this show of trust was... Well, touching, to say the least. Cole let a delighted emotion wash over both Gwyn and her.

The sound of the girl's voice was sweet in her mind, a blanket to the almost buzzing in the back of her mind. Ne vous inquiétez pas. No need to worry. She gave the girl a translation back, in a playful teasing tone at the slip in language. Cole had almost laughed but...

Her mood was sobered again when Gwyn acknowledged La bête. She disliked the tricky bird and how slippery it was by its words, a secret hm? A deceptive thing but... Knowledge for Knowledge is how the wise men war after all.

Even in this rot-filled, strange place, Cole was... Well... Colette was strangely at peace, a black raven, like a white rabbit, had led her to a wonderland. An unfitting name for a horror-filled place unlike the peculiar tones of 'The Other'. The metaphor had still held though, Gwyn would be most like Alice in this case, a frightened girl.

That made her the mad hatter or even the queen of hearts. No. That was the role of whoever was the Mistress, as the raven said it. Someone who was... A player of this... Game? Cole wondered if their lives were a game.

Her curiosity lifted at the thought. Mistress? Her mind flashed to all that could be. She'd figure it out...

Watch my back while I take down the mirror, chère amie.

Even if the bird wasn't trustworthy. She would take a chance, she needed to go back, after all, She pulled away from Gwyn's hold on her shirt and laid her own calm as heavily towards the girl as she could, almost trying to act as a... muffling veil, to the distressed girl.

Cole made quick work of taking down the frame, no matter if it was heavy, Cole was powerful enough, ballet took muscles after all. Then she turned back to La bête.

Moving closer to Gwyn, in front of her in a protective motion, handing the girl a handkerchief that she had kept in the pocket of her dress and almost forgotten about. Clean yourself up, love. We'll be alright.

Cole swallowed. Not in nervousness, but her throat was sore. She had not talked this much in a long time. Her eyes steeled, her mouth opening. "What must we give up, must be told, given up to you? Tell me what you want, Bête."

Cole could almost feel the bird smiling- or was that frowning? Just... She was unsettled.

"A secret for a secret. Be it a trinket, a whisper, or a sacrifice. I hunger for all that is hidden, coveted, or forgotten. Offer me this and I will act in kind." It responded, and Cole felt herself almost curl around the girl behind her like Cole was a shield, bronze and bold.

Cole was prone to self-sacrifice. She would do so willingly if the time came. Now that she thought... Well, now was that time.

"I will give up a piece of me, if you so swear on thy word, that it is true."

The raven’s neck cracks and stretches, swirling around Colette’s own neck like a snake. Its eyes glint with a sharp keenness to them. "What sort of piece?" It sounded very interested by the prospect.

"Not a word will slip until you swear to me of the truth of your word." Her lips tightened, and she stiffened, uncomfortable by the bird's actions, Ugh...

"You insult me, tearling. I don’t speak in falsehoods." The five-eyed bird spoke, and Cole almost scoffed, may this bird burn in hell.

"You may speak not in falsehood, surely you speak the truth, wise bird of the other, but truth is often shrouded by uncertainties. I am but seeking certainty. A swear on your words, means a swear on mine, Bête." Her soft melodious voice answered.

"It is against my nature to lie. I am the raven of truth and falsehood, past, present, and future. I seek only those who would offer me that which I hunger for most," The raven’s neck begins to tighten around Colette’s neck and its beak begins to grow larger until it is roughly the size of Colette’s head. "And I hunger greatly now. You’ve heard much uttered from me and I huuuuungerrrrrr"

"Thank you bird. I will give you what you wish to know. I feed you the knowledge of a past, that none but thee and my dear friend here have ever heard uttered." Cole was pleased, smug even... But. She paused. There was a sinking feeling in her gut. The comfort of her confidence and security fell away from Gwyn. She felt the memories tear up her chest.

"I- well... Mon Dieu. It's a past that is hard to spill in its own right. My father and mother weren't... Good. Most can see, they hit me, abused a child. That isn't a secret..." Her voice shook, looking at the floor like a guilty child.

"My father was always the worse of the two. Throwing his whiskey glasses at a child isn't what a sane person would do — choking me for being too loud. Shortly before he left for war, he... well... he used me. " She choked out refusing to elaborate. It was too painful.

The raven shudders, take a slow, deep inhale, and letting out a sigh of satisfaction. Its feathers ruffled at the words with which he drank delightfully. Its neck loosened and the raven’s head shrank so that it returned to its original, far less distorted form.

"Yes, this will suffice. I shall show you a way back but it will not be here. Your mistress awaits you and it would be best to remain hidden for now. Open the door and step carefully. Many things lurk about that are less kind than I."

It Sufficed. Cole frowned, tears burning behind her eyes. She wouldn't let them fall. Her eyes averted.

Cole was... Ashamed. It was humming off her body, and even if Gwyn could feel it Cole couldn't, she wouldn't... She wasn't in the mood to control herself.

All she wanted to do was cry. She couldn't let Gwyn see her like this. Maintenant, vous savez que je suis une idiote.

Gwyneira, surely wouldn't want to be around someone who had been... Like her.

It was different admitting what Father had done out loud. Difficult. She wished she'd just stayed in the dining hall this morning.

No...

Rather she'd wished she had died in the fire that plagued her dreams... Maybe then she wouldn't have to suffer as much.





♡coded by uxie♡
 
CODE BY SEROBLISS
Annai Mestra
LOCATION: Library Doors
The foreboding feeling vanished without a trace. All was as it should be, with only her out of place.

The painting was back to how it was before. And yet, it had moved, had it not? She was certain that it had. She'd heard it creak, she'd saw it shift, she'd felt the horrible sensation of being watched by invisible eyes.

So why did everything seem so... normal?

She'd been staring at the painting the whole time. She would have seen it move back to its original position. Instead, it seemed like the painting had changed positions in the blink of an eye. Less, even.

How was that even possible? A moving painting could have been some sort of elaborate prank. A painting that moved in a fraction of a second, on the other hand, was far less likely to be set up by anyone here. In fact, she could think of only one person in the orphanage who could pull off a trick like that - herself.

Was her power turning on her? Had she somehow subconsciously created the illusion of the painting moving?

No, no. Neither of those possibilities made any sense.

At a loss for ideas, she felt the voice inside her head growing increasingly louder and more petulant, repeating a single question.

Did you really see it at all?

Being an illusionist, Annai knew the difference between fantasy and reality. Her entire life up until this point had been an illusion in itself. Normally, she could be certain that what she saw was real.

Now, she wasn't so sure.

Had it been real? Had the raven been real? Was any of this real?

What was real?

Curling into herself, she ignored Hank and Oz, trying desperately to slow her breathing and calm her racing heart. It was over now. She could think about this later.

It was setting in that she was in the midst of a panic attack. She was no stranger to them - she'd had to suffer through many, living alone while her parents fought and died.

Four in. Hold for four. Eight out. Four in. Hold for four. Eight out.

I'm okay.

Slowly rising to her feet, she allowed herself to wipe her tears. Normally, she'd put up an illusion and pretend she was fine, but she knew it wouldn't work. It'd be an obvious lie.

She didn't really want to use her power, either. Illusions no longer felt comfortable, no longer felt safe.

"...We need to check on Cole and Gwyn. A raven came out of a cabinet in the bathroom and attacked Cole. I think I saw some papers fall out of the cabinet. I don't know what happened after that. I, uh... ran." She struggled to speak without breaking down again, and so she calmed her breathing once more. Four in. Hold for four. Eight out.

"The raven, it had... five eyes." She shuddered, forcing out the sentence. "I know, it sounds crazy, but I know what I saw." (She hoped.) "I - I understand if you don't believe me. But... can you two come with me to check on them? Please? I need to make sure they're okay. Something seems so, so wrong."








 

















mood



Irritated and Hungry



location



Bedroom -> Front of Library



outfit



Winter clothes



mentions



Ozy, Annai, & Hank



tags



tba













Oliver








The bedroom door closed behind him with a snap as he shut it as gently as he could given the mood he was in. He had been restless last night which resulted in him sleeping in and missing breakfast, a fact that irritated him quite a bit. He despised being late to anything and here he was, nearly late for classes. A light scowl creased his fair features as he headed towards the library, shoes tapping against the floor as he walked. He could hear what sounded like a commotion coming from the direction of the Breakfast Hall but he continued towards his destination, his scowl deepening slightly. Couldn't they have a single morning without the riff-raff causing trouble?

Peace was never an option he supposed.

As he grew closer to the library, he heaved a small sigh as he heard more voices. Right before he came into view he smoothed his features, adopting a blank, icy expression as he turned the corner and saw Hank, Annai, and Ozy grouped in front of the doors. A frown nearly broke through his façade but he smothered it just in time as he approached the duo. Why were they lollygagging out here, weren't classes about to start?

"Was there a meeting announced that I missed?" He asked with a cool tone as he drew alongside them, catching the tail-end of what Annai had said. This time, a frown did break through his icy expression, a furrow appearing between his brows as he scoffed lightly. "Five eyes? Are you sure you are not confusing dreams for reality? That's impossible, a raven cannot physically have that many eyes." One slender hip cocked to the side, his right hand firmly planting on it as he considered Annai with icy, blue pools, lips tilted down in a small frown.









nine lives

 
Caretaker
Makoto Madiyarov
theme

Something grabbed my ankle. It...it was so cold.

Makoto closed his eyes, helpless against the eerie chill of familiarity creeping up his spine. Like ridding a lemon of its juices, his cheek sunk in as he bit into it, leaving behind a dent of frustration. The Okami. That nerve of hers, that touch; all three had slipped in it seemed, from last night's events into today's misfortunes.

Telling the truth about Abigail so soon and so completely was a mistake, sneered Olivia's testimony. You may wish for a full moon, to see what lies in the darkness of this place, but who is to say of the tides it may bring, the strength it could muster to wash the very sands clean of these children and their play?

Yet as memory served, rushing headfirst into bullets was madness, too. In the end, his boldness had won them four months' worth of land. Perhaps this time, four years' worth of service could finally be bent into the shape he yearned for: a compass. North, it would tell him. Reach the upper dominion of this institution and force life into her portrait. Force the truth out of those eyes; she had to know.

Makoto's calloused fingers lightly traced their way up and down the young girl's right wrist, dark umber eyes cloaked in thought. A swollen wrist, or a swollen head from lack of air? Were those truly the stakes?

As young Ethel appeared with spiders on the brain and his fellow caretakers each expressed their rapt concern, the scarf slowly slipped off, acclimating itself around the cold shoulders of the still-trembling girl. It was quite a rare sight to see Makoto without it, one that he did not take lightly. Despite it being his daughter's best work, he knew only a properly wrapped gauze could stave away what was sure to come for Olivia once shock was out of the picture.

"See if you have a roll left in your satchel," nodded Makoto, eyeing Jasper before gesturing to her swelling right wrist. "We'll leave her in your hands." Long legs straightening, he gave Olivia one last wordless squeeze on her now newly-covered shoulder. Keep it warm for me.

Makoto turned to Doris, the urgent suggestion of leaving together on the tip of his tongue when a gust of blonde and brittle air blew in from the storage door, her own tongue poised for astonished lashings at their perceived incompetence.

Adelaide. A good woman when will and worth demanded it, but to him, her mind had the nasty habit of cutting its teeth into flaws she had no business of exposing raw, despite her own scabs being just as plain to the eye. Nonetheless, four years of her oddity ensured that she never missed, and this was especially true as she barged her way past Makoto, all manner of ladyship and grace out the window in favour of the kitchen entrance. Narrower and narrower his eyes became, practically slits by the time she swept herself and the accompanying professor out the doors, the only thing successfully stirred by her trailing voice being a familiar taste torn between simmering ire and slight, begrudging admiration.

After all, it was her nature to never miss a good point. Milk would do the young girl some good.

Throwing one last glance at Jasper, he gestured for Doris as he opened the door and followed in Adelaide's footsteps. Fingers curled around a hefty handful of nails and lugnuts, his physical bearing stayed permanently and protectively poised next to the radio maid, a glint of paranoia in his eye.

Voices soon floated down the hall, the sight appearing before them minutes later.

Ahead, were reoccurring pair professor and Adelaide, paltry white cloths in hand and at the ready. Existing first responder to the scene was Solinas in the flesh himself. Though strangely, the airs around Mateo felt different in a way, changed even, by a distortion beyond simple light emanating from his lantern or the bulging bag sat at his hip. Frida and Quinn were harder to see, but a newfound tension had marked them out quite differently to Makoto compared to when he saw them last.

In those moments, a much fainter string of a girl's voice floated from the opposite end, near the library. The girl of illusions, Annai.

"...check on Cole...Gwyn. Cabinet...bathroom...attacked....pers fall. Don't know...ran. The ra...ven...five eyes...know what I saw...check on Gwyn...Cole?..."

The Russo-Japanese slowed down, shooting a confirmatory glance towards his Englishwomam counterpart.

"I'll see about those other two," he murmured with an urgent nod to the opposite end of the hall. As he brushed past her, he added, with the softest hint of a tired smile, "Ganbatte, Doris. Good luck. I will join you when I can."

Just as Makoto turned the corner, he caught onto the last of his own earlier thought being said out loud.

"Something seems so, so wrong."

Annai's words matched her demeanour; as if touched by a ghost, the girl was overtaken in pallor, eyes wide with fear. The one whose back faced him was none other than Olivia's ice-spitting twin Oliver, poking ice shards into her story about five-eyed birds. Above them both, hung the cursed piece herself.

Makoto's voice cut in.

"Dodomeki, Hawthorne."

He approached the boy, shadow falling over him as he continued with a long side-eye. "That is what we call it in Japan. A yokai of a hundred bird eyes, arms longer than a silk sash."

Makoto entrenched himself between the two of them, his gaze darkening on the painting. "Her name is for her deceit, her tricks. For falling into the wrong habits and for seeing falsehood in all but coin."

He turned to Annai at last, his flinty stare giving way to a little softness. "Illusion or not, you will stay by my side. Things have been....strange today. I'm sure Colette and Gwyneira are fine." A flicker of uncertainty. The last thing he believed was this. The last thing he needed was incessant questions on Abigail, much less the recent string of supposed happenings with orphans. To cope, Makoto turned to the boys standing nearby and began a signature drill of orders.

"But Oliver, your sister is in the kitchens. She fell, her wrist is sprained. I'm sending you there for now, but not alone. Ozymandias, Mason, you two will join him. Make sure to bring any other orphans you pick up along the way. Classes are postponed, but the storage door will lead you outside to practice your oddities. Stay together, stay close where Mr. Cummings can see you, and at all times, obey him."


CODE BY SEROBLISS / VALOROUS ORDER
 
Last edited:
Ozymandias
Location: Next to Hank and Annai
Interactions: Hank, Annai, Oliver, Makato
Mentions: The Caretakers
​

1667437313781-png.1035951
"Five eyes? That's three too many!" Why, thank you for stating the obvious, Sherlock. Still looking unsettled, but trying his best to put on a cheerful look, Oz dropped the hand when it was ignored. "That...sounds serious. No wonder there was such a commotion in the bathroom....Hank? Annai? Maybe we should inform the caretakers about this...?" If Cole and Gwyn were truly in danger, Oz doubted that just an illusionist, a solar-powered reset button and a friction alterer could help. And on the bright side caretakers would know what to do...right?
Upon hearing Oliver's approach and his subsequent words, the normally sunny orphan's expression faltered briefly back to a pouting scowl, but now was no time to fight. Well, not physically, at least. "Well no σκατά Sherlock, that is physically impossible. But then again so is your oddity, and Hank's oddity, and my oddity including the fact I'm alive right now and not rotting in the well, it is impossible just like Annai's oddity and everything in this entire orphanage. Including that frosty attitude of yours, Oliver. I refuse to believe you can actually be that mean."
(Translation: σκατά = shit in Greek)
...σκατά.
Looks like his temper got the best of him....again. Oz fell silent when Makato approached, dragging a hand through his brown bangs as he let his cheery facade falter for one moment. Oh by all the gods...All this creepiness was getting to him. He really wanted nothing more than to take a nap in the sun...preferably with a cat...and no ravens.
Good lord. He felt exhausted, and that wasn't just because he had been fixing Aaru and running like a headless chicken. And a sunbathed nap didn't sound so bad right now... Oz finished dragging his bangs around, sighing internally. Yet he still smiled or at least tried to. "Alright then. Thanks, Mr. Madiyarov. And Oliver? I'm...sorry. I lost my temper. You didn't deserve that, and it wasn't really worth the time anyways." Sighing externally this time, the orphan gave Hank a light tug, hoping the other's oddity wasn't at work. "We should....go."

Kovacs Kovacs SavannahSmiles SavannahSmiles aurivee_ aurivee_ dontPanic dontPanic
 
Last edited:
Doris MartinDoris_Martin.jpg
With the agreeance of Jasper, it felt as if her words were cementing themselves as the truth. She had been the one that brought up the possibility of their absence being the culprit for Olivia getting hurt. That was undeniable. She had hoped Jasper would have refused her musings and favored a theory that did not involve their negligence as a factor. “It appears that this morning is not our finest work,” Doris replied dejected, her eyes kept on the trembling child amidst them. She brought her hand to her face to remove the cigarette from her lips but halted as she locked it between her fingers. The shaky testimony provided more questions than answers, it seemed.

It made less sense the more she repeated the exact lines in her head. The intonation and intent were a perfect copy of the original. It was one of the benefits of being blessed with her particular oddity. Naturally, at first glance, it made sense that either of the children accompanying Olivia had tried to pull a prank on her – possibly both working together – and it had resulted in more hurt than they anticipated. Thus, they made her believe something else had attacked her. Doris' gaze bore unapologetically into the small girl. Her hand finally removed the cigarette from her lips. That was not the case, though. She could not so easily dismiss that Olivia ran away, and neither Quinn nor Frida gave chase.

However, that left the possibility Olivia was speaking nothing but the truth about what had happened. A shiver ran down Doris' spine as an uncomfortable thought appeared in her mind. Then, what else could have done such a thing to the young lady? She had to put a pin in it for the time being as Makoto spoke up. Her time for pondering had run out. He would take charge of the situation. She released a plume of held-in smoke, and along it escaped a small sigh from her mouth. A million and one voices at her disposal, yet none decisive enough. She shifted as Makoto turned to her – standing up straight and properly adjusting her posture. Her pale eyes locked onto his face, yet purposefully avoided meeting the eyes that rested their gaze on her.

She awaited instructions that never came. They were interrupted by an accusatory voice. It told her off for what she already knew. She was not proactive enough in these situations. “Adelaide, I assure you we-” Doris' attempt at clarifying had been overlooked. Perhaps it was never even acknowledged. Why was she still trying to justify her actions to her? Doris had been here longer than her. She should be her superior, yet she could never act like it in front of her. Adelaide. Doris had tried to befriend her years ago despite the difficulties she faced. The temper of that woman was something else. In a way, she was still trying, but to a lesser extent. Her approach had changed many times, yet the woman had more-or-less stayed the same.

“Please, if you would listen-” Doris called after as she was already exiting the kitchen. There was no response. Another failure she could add to the infinite list of attempted interactions. She was about to call out again when her eyes fell on Makoto. He was gesturing as he opened the door Adelaide had left through. It made more sense to follow her than to call out like a lost child. She turned towards Olivia and Jasper for a moment and bowed lightly. “Olivia, Jasper will stay by your side while Makoto and myself resolve the situation. I assure you he will take good care of you.”

Doris could only hope her soft words had reassured the young girl enough as she left the kitchen alongside Makoto. She was unsure what they would find down this path, but the protective poise of the man beside her made her feel more at ease. At least, until the voices they followed down the hall came into view. The sight before them was nothing more than a gathering of people surrounding a bathroom door needing minor repairs. However, a single drop was still a drop, and after this morning, Doris' bucket began to show signs of overflowing.

“Ganba..." Not quite... "Good luck to you as well, Makoto.” She replied as she bowed at his departure. An action so ingrained she performed it even with her mind entirely occupied. The disruptive behavior during breakfast. Abigail's fate. Olivia's injury. Adelaide's remarks. Whatever was happening now. Drop, drop, drop. She stepped towards the gathering of souls and let her quickly freezing gaze take in the scene before her. The assumptions she was making were doing her current state no favors. None of the children had thought causing this intentionally would be a good idea, right? “I would much appreciate it,” she could feel the muscle under her right eye twitch, “if this, all of this, is explained clearly and concisely. Please, whoever.”

- - - - - - - - - -
Location: Kitchen -> Bathroom
Interaction: Jasper ( housegoat13 housegoat13 ), Adelaide ( mizton mizton ), Olivia ( SavannahSmiles SavannahSmiles ), Makoto ( Kovacs Kovacs )
Mentions: Anyone in the bathroom vicinity
 
As Olivia told her story, Ethel's face turned from a little excited at what was happening to feeling sorry for Olivia and getting a little scared. She wanted to turn her brain off, but at the same time, she knew this called for something else. She needed to investigate, so what did Ethel do? She went to the counter and began to scribble down what she heard from Oliva's words. She stayed in the kitchen, but already, some of the words were fading away because Ethel was a slow writer and Oliva was gone. She did get one thing that stuck out, and that was the fact that something had grabbed Oliva's ankle.

Ironically, Ethel was not in the mood for a conspiracy theory, because something else was going on. Maybe it was an elaborate Halloween prank, but on the other hand, it was near Christmas. Ethel was going to get to the bottom of this, or at least, that's what she promised herself. But she was too scared, and she'd get caught up in the planning. Who should she tell? Would Olivia tell?

Ethel was in the kitchen for 10 minutes straight, before she decided to come out. She tucked her note into her pocket and then assembled near the dorms and kind of blocked the hallway. She had something to say. It was partially a conspiracy theory, but also a little more well-founded than her other theories.
 
You must log in or register to reply here.

Users who are viewing this thread

Total: 2 (members: 0, guests: 2)

Similar threads

Veil Walker
Fantasy The Academy of Telvaria
2 3 magical school mystery political intrigue
Replies
57
Views
1K
York_vs_Lancastor
York_vs_Lancastor
Nerdy.
Fandom Divergent: Collapse of the Factions // RP // (p)
divergent fiction private
Replies
4
Views
114
Nerdy.
Nerdy.
Squishie2007
Fandom Marvel: The Next Generation [RP] [Open]
Replies
0
Views
53
Squishie2007
Squishie2007
Jagson
Fandom The New Jedi Order
Replies
8
Views
115
Elias Wren
Elias Wren
TanteRegenbogen
Fantasy Is The Demon Lord A Myth [Arcanepunk High Fantasy]
demons high fantasy retrofuturistic
Replies
13
Views
274
TanteRegenbogen
TanteRegenbogen
Back
Top