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#arcane witch institute
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VALENTINES DAY!
arcane witch institute — dorm leaders
a/n: I KNOW THIS IS REALLY LATE IM SO SORRY— man it’s the first time you guys are seeing the dorm leaders and it’s their genderbend versions lol, i promise i’ll get their bios and dorms done soon maybe…
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celebrating at arcane witch institute, a special occasion full of love and sweets, you go to give a gift to your favorite dorm leader…! let’s see their reactions, shall we?
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GALERON.
“ch…chocolates? huh, really?! for me?! eh, uh…o-oh, no no no, I love it, don’t worry! i-it’s just…i’m not really used to receiving anything…thank you though.”
JUSTIN MARMOREAL.
“my sincerest thank you for the fruit tart, but it would be rude of me not to give you anything back for today’s special occasion. so…here: say ‘aaa’~.”
ASKARI NDIAYE.
“…pfft~ aaww, did you want to be the first one to give me chocolate today? you’re so cute. thank you. haahh, i hope you don’t get in a fight with the other fans about this…”
VIOREL APATURA.
“chocolates? why thank you dear~ but, don’t think you’ll be leaving with empty hands. tada! i have something for you too—now we’re even, hah!”
RAYAN SHARIQ.
“thank you very much for the chocolates. ah, if you don’t mind me asking, would you like to have tea together at the cafe? i can arrange a vip room just for you and me. we can taste these together.”
ALLEN ERDENE.
“oh…!! oh this is the cutest one i’ve received so far! it has all my favorites! and you even bought an adorable bird plush with my name on it, thank you very much~ i’ll eat it at the dorm.”
HERO AIDONEUS.
“chocolates? …i see. you know, i don’t really care for this stuff anymore, but seeing as you were so nice to get me anything at all…how about you come to the dorm tonight? we’re holding a mini concert, so it’ll be nice if you were there~ ♪”
MORT MALEFICARUM.
“a gift, for me…? my, how peculiar. i don’t receive things like this often, you’ve actually managed to make my heart flutter…i appreciate your gift though, mortal.”
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transbookoftheday · 2 months
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Trans Horror Podcasts
My post about trans horror books last year was much more popular than I expected, and since I've recently fallen in love with fiction podcasts and audio dramas, I thought I'd make a post about trans horror podcasts as well.
If you like trans horror, please give these a try - especially if you enjoy listening to audiobooks!
Hello From The Hallowoods:
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Come walk between the black pines! In this award-winning queer fiction podcast, an eldritch narrator follows the increasingly connected residents of the forest at the end of the world. It's a bittersweet story that explores queer identity, horror genre tropes, and finding hope in humanity's last moments.
Hello From The Hallowoods is my absolute favorite podcast! If you only listen to one podcast from this list, please make it this one - it's so beautifully written and super queer! Also: season 4 starts today!
Trans main characters include:
our nonbinary eye-affiliated podcast host
a nonbinary "Frankenstein's creature"
a transmasc ghost
a genderfluid storm witch
a trans woman who can visit other people's dreams
multiple characters using neopronouns
Camp Here & There:
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Good morning, campers! Camp Here & There is a weekly horror comedy podcast tuned in to the loudspeakers of a small midwestern sleepaway camp plagued by supernatural terrors and natural disasters. Sydney Sargent, resident camp nurse, cheerfully reports on all the terror we must face with a big smile. Let’s hope there’s nothing weird about that!
Sydney is a trans man.
Dos: After You:
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Things have changed. Deck has fallen in love with someone who isn't human, and leaves a hungry house behind to see him again. Will he be waiting for you? The world has changed… but what about him? Dos: After You is a queer urban fantasy/horror audiodrama available in both English & Spanish
Deck is a trans man.
Jar of Rebuke:
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Follow Dr. Jared Hel's journey as he works to re-discover his forgotten past and finds his place within the small Indiana farm town of Wichton and the cryptozoological organization he works for called 'The Enclosure'. These audio journals, and other recordings, dive deep into Midwestern US cryptids and folklore while also telling a mystery about identity, queerness, neurodivergence, and community.
Jared is nonbinary.
Spirit Box Radio:
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Spirit Box Radio is an award winning, horror audio drama podcast about a radio show for enthusiasts of all things arcane. Follow Sam Enfield a former postboy with no experience in the arcane arts, who finds themselves forced to take over running the show, following the disappearance of the previous host. Sam soon discovers there are more than ghosts haunting the show, and finds himself amidst a mystery which threatens everything he knows about the world beyond his tiny basement broadcast studio, and maybe even himself.
Sam is a trans man.
The Silt Verses:
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Carpenter and Faulkner, two worshippers of an outlawed god, travel up the length of their deity’s great black river, searching for holy revelations amongst the reeds and the wetlands. As their pilgrimage lengthens and the river’s mysteries deepen, the two acolytes find themselves under threat from a police manhunt, but also come into conflict with the weirder gods that have flourished in these forgotten rural territories. This is a world where divine intervention takes place through prayer-markings scratched into stumping-posts, and offerings are left squirming to die in the flats of the delta. This is a world of ritual, and hidden language, and sacrifice. This is folk horror, and fantasy, and a dark road trip into the depths of unusual faith.
Faulkner is a trans man.
The Magnus Protocol:
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The Magnus Archives 2: The Magnus Protocol is the prequel/sequel/”sidequel” to the internationally renowned Magnus Archives podcast. The Magnus Institute was an organisation dedicated to academic research into the esoteric and the paranormal, based out of Manchester, England. It burned to the ground in 1999. There were no survivors. Now, almost 25 years later, Alice and Sam, a pair of low-level civil service workers at the underfunded Office of Incident Assessment and Response, have stumbled across its legacy. A legacy that will put them in grave danger. If this intrigues you then it is our pleasure to welcome you to the Office of Incident, Assessment and Response. Make sure you pick up your badge at desk and report to your line manager before sitting down. Oh and stay away from I.T., seriously.
I'm not sure if Alice is canonically trans, but her voice actress is a trans woman.
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sleeplesssmoll · 5 months
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Reverse1999 Lore Bible
A reference sheet for Reverse1999. This is a work in progress (format is scuffed as always but I tried 😮‍💨). All information is subject to change as the story unfolds. If anything thing looks off, let me know and I'll get on it right away! Would not want to spread misinformation. That being said, this is a long post with spoilers for global release.
The Storm
The Storm is a widespread disaster first observed in 1999. It marked the end of an era and is the catalyst for the main story.
Humans will suffer “Storm Syndrome” as the Storm draws near. The Symptoms of Storm Syndrome and the mutations around the Storm depend on the era. However, arcanists are protected from Storm Syndrome thanks to their arcanum. Arcansist are able to perceive the changes in the world brought by the Storm but are not immune to reversal, the true horror of the Storm.
“Raindrops” emerge from the ground and rise into the sky along with everything around them once the Storm arrives. They phase through matter. Time reverses into a previous era while everything caught in the Storm disappears. Exceptions to this rule are the St. Pavlov Foundation, Manus Vindictae, and the Timekeeper (I've heard about others but this is strictly global release).
The Foundation's rules state that personnel can turn the Timekeeper for guidance 24 hours before the Storm (in prologue).
Races
Arcanists: A race that contains a unique cell colony allowing them to perform arcane skills (magic, divination, alchemy, etc.). They do not follow reasoning like mankind and instead practice Gnosis. There are two defining features of Gnosis:
1. It can't be verified by an independent 3rd party.
2. It’s impossible to comprehend through reasoning.
Because of this, arcanists are labeled as unpredictable and dangerous by humanity. There is a long history of humans associating arcanum with demons, evil, and witches. Arcanists are also more sensitive to emotions and resistant to potions. Pure-blooded arcanists are stronger than mixed-bloods.
Humans: Humans are the majority in Reverse1999. They follow logic and reason as opposed to Gnosis. Many look down on arcanists and consider them sub-human. However, because of the Storm their technologies and progress are being erased while arcanum flourishes. Humans are vulnerable to insanity because of their logic aligned mindset. When faced with something they cannot comprehend, they can lose their minds.
Groups and Factions
St. Pavlov Foundation (The Foundation): A public institution dedicated to the study of arcanum and the indoctrination of arcanists. They seek children with arcane talents from around the world. They say they strive for peace between arcanists and humanity but peace is not the same as equality. All training and scientific provided appliances by St. Pavlov is to overcome the instability of arcane skills in order to ensure the peace and stability of the human world (Chapter 3-1). In other words, the Foundation is training obedient dogs (hence Pavlolv) to die as martyrs for the sake of humanity. This allows humanity to benefit off of arcanum skills without worry of an uprising from the arcanists kept on the Foundation’s leash. Below is a quote from the game:
“The St. Pavlov Foundation is currently the largest public and official organization which houses arcanists. The foundation has invested a great deal of effort in the protection and supervision of unique children. They are constantly sending manpower all over the world to seek out children with a talent for arcanum. It does not matter where the children are or whether they wish to come along. The children who have been taken in will develop their abilities through rigorous training and eventually take over this seemingly endless mission for the peace of mankind.”
The Foundation’s buildings are immune to the Storm. Both humans and arcanists are safe within its walls.
Manus Vindictae: A terrorist organization that believes in Arcanist Supremacy. They recruit arcanists to fight against humanity and utilize the chaos caused by the Storm to further their agenda. They are the Foundation's biggest enemy and they are still growing. They also know how to manipulate the Storm and can accelerate its arrival.
They rewrite history while the world reverses. This means that they mess with historical events established in the "orginal" timeline. The Valentines day massacre is an example of this. Arcansists were supposed to be killed, but Schneider rescued them and killed human in their stead, thus rewriting history. The Wallstreet crash also happend months earlier than in the orginal timeline.
Here is a quote from Ch 2 of the game:
“Manus Vindictae is an infamous extremist organization. Holding a grudge against humans and contempt for the mixed, these extreme racists only recognize the bodies ruled by arcanist's blood as "mankind." They believe they have the ability and power to change everything. They are dedicated to building a so-called proper world where arcanists will stand neck and neck with gods and enjoy the status they believe they deserve. In that case, humans, arcanists on the human side, and the mixed who tolerate the pollution of arcanist's blood will pay a huge price for their existence.There is no doubt they are lunatics. One of the two reasons for their madness is their brains: they have a strange prefrontal cortex or some unknown neurons; the other reason is hatred: in those dark ages, arcanists were discriminated against, expelled, marginalized, and even slaughtered. The tragedies that happen every day on the fringes of society breed their revenge and keep strengthening this army of darkness. Now they have come onto the stage. What they want is power, freedom, the one and only supreme status, and an overthrown world.”
Manus Vindictae gives their followers Masks claiming it will keep them safe from the Storm. However, a conversation between two followers in Chapter 2-8 Popular Literature reveals this is not the full picture. The Mask does not guarantee their safety and only in the “Sanctuary” are they protected from the Storm’s influence. One of the followers then turns into a monster that can no longer be reasoned with while the other flees (we may have more insight into this later). Keep in mind Manus also likes to feed us false information and must be observed with a critical eye.
Laplace Rehabilitation Center: Laplace provides therapy to arcanists. Patients with stress disorders must retrieve treatment in the rehabilitation center. One of these treatments is artificial somnambulism where dreams are used to treat trauma and find the source of it. Psychubes are used in these dream treatments. Mesmer Jr. works in this department, following in her family's footsteps. She is the one who “treats” Vertin for Type II trauma.
Scientific Computing Research Center: The only branch of Laplace affiliated with Foundation. They are focused on making advancements in technology.
Institution Lorenz: This is the organization X invited Regulus to join. This description comes from Ch 1: A letter with Black Mucus: Founded after the "Storm," Institutum Lorentz is a mysterious organization hidden within but independent of the Laplace Scientific Computing Center. Its primary area of research is the chaos energy of Arcanum. Its members distrust the tech of human civilization and would rather discard them. They're active in various sites of arcane phenomena, secretly searching for the "Original Butterfly." While all of its members' whereabouts remain unknown, Lorentz still has branches all over the world. Our vanguard squad has fought their investigators several times, yet we still haven't found a way into any of their branches."
The House of Integratus: the committee in charge of lawmaking, not just in the Foundation, but in global society. Any affairs related to the human- arcanist relationship will be brought to their table. Delegates of the House of the Integratus are elected to take responsibility for their constituencies. They submit countless proposals to the committee every year. Then the committee will choose one lucky proposal and send it to the next step: all the committee members would gather to debate and vote for the proposal (Ch 4-8 A Ride on the Toboggan).
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abyssal-ali · 5 months
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Project #68 [Operation Concupiscence] - 1
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Pairing: Damian Wayne x Raven Roth
Rating: M (Chapters 1-3 are merely suggestive but overall this is a smutty story;) ) Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 ao3 Masterlist | Day 1: Vampire
WC: 3.5k
TW: Demon AU
A/N: For the 2023 @damirae-sauce-week. This is a Demon AU x Hogwarts AU. Moone's Institute of Magic and Mythos has three Covens (aka Houses): Demon Coven, Mage Coven, & Witch Coven. There are several subspecies of demon; for example, Damian is half Samaeline (wrath/judgement demon aka Bruce) and half Azraeline (incubi/lust demon aka Talia). I mixed canon and my worldbuilding quite thoroughly, so please don't expect much canon adherence ;) In this AU, Damian was raised with the al Ghuls before he began attending MIMM; family dynamics are not a part of this AU.
Concupiscence: definition: noun. 1. sexual desire; lust 2. ardent, usually sensuous, longing
“Now, as you Year Eights hopefully already know, the basis of any type of magic is a give-and-take system, whether it’s demonic, arcane, or natural. Today, you will be choosing one specific subsection of magic to study with your partner and will record your findings on how the give-and-take affects your experiments. No, it does not matter which Coven you are from and which substudy you choose. Your partners and substudies will be chosen at random. Half of you will be called to pick a name from this cauldron; the other half of you will choose the substudy from that cauldron. Everyone understand the objective?” 
“Yes, Professor Zatara,” chorused the roomful of students.
The professor read off a list of names from a scroll, dividing the room into two. “Okay, students in line A, please select your partner. Line B, please choose your subject. I’ll call each pair up and we can discuss the specifics of your assignment once everything is settled.”
Raven shuffled along Line B, her gaze flicking over to Line A. More specifically, a classmate in Line A, with spiky black hair, deep green eyes, an insufferable smirk, and an unquenchable need to one-up others. 
“Raven!” the person behind her hissed, jolting her out of her thoughts. “It’s your turn.”
Ignoring the person stepping up to Cauldron A beside her, who was smirking at her being caught daydreaming, she stepped forward, reaching into the depths of Cauldron B.
She moved back to her seat, uncurling the strip of parchment. Lust magic .
Scoffing inwardly, she yanked the hood of her cape over her head, only her glowing purple eyes showing from its shrouded depths. Freaking lust magic. Of course it was the one subsection of magic she had completely ignored in her studies and knew the least about.
The heavy weight of a stare that could only belong to one person settled on the back of her cape. Whirling, she glared at the boy sitting at the table behind her. “What do you want?” she growled, letting a little of her demon rasp leak through her tone.
The annoyance smirked, green eyes piercing through the shadows she had wrapped around her. “Guess who was lucky enough to choose the school’s ice princess as their partner?”
~~~
The glowing violet slits that were Raven’s eyes blinked out as she closed her eyes in frustration, causing his smirk to widen.
The violet appeared again, along with the flash of a white fang or two. “I could only be so fortunate that it was the school’s ice prince?” Her tone was heavy with sarcasm.
“Got it in one! I do hope that brilliant mind of yours will survive throughout our partnership.” 
“Oh, shove it where the sun doesn’t shine, al Ghul,” she grumbled, turning away.
“So, your cape, then? Don’t mind if I do,” he returned snarkily, knowing he’d won that round.
She growled again.
“What are we studying, partner?” he leaned over her shoulder, attempting to peer at the parchment that she slapped her hand over.
He chuckled. “Oh ho, what a visceral reaction. How intriguing…why would you attempt to cover our assignment from your partner?” He tapped his chin, imitating thinking hard. “I’m sure you wouldn’t hide it to be petty, because your grades would go down and that would be unacceptable. Could it be…!” He gasped, eyes widened dramatically. “Is it perhaps love magic, and you don’t want to admit you’re in love with me?”
The violet of her eyes gained a distinctly red hue, signalling her irritation. 
Damian smirked and dropped the subject. 
“It’s lust magic, you dolt.”
“Ah, often closely used with love magic. I can see why you hid it now…it’s even more embarrassing to admit that you’re attracted to me.”
Raven raised her arm, a rolled-up scroll of parchment in hand, prepared to thwack him.
“Raven and Damian!” called Professor Zatara.
The classroom erupted into whispers as they walked up to Professor Zatara’s desk. The Head Boy and Head Girl, bitter rivals since they had joined Moone’s Institute of Magic and Mythos eight years ago, were partnered together for this project. 
“Your subject for this project?” Zachary Zatara raised his eyebrow at the two of them.
“Lust magic.”
“Good thing you two don’t get along, so I don’t have to worry about you testing this on yourselves, huh?” Professor Zatara leaned back in his chair, a hint of a smile on his lips.
Damian could sense Raven’s irritation through her stiffness. 
“You can choose how you’ll present your findings; the due date is in four weeks. Potions, charms, curses, anything is on board. You’ll be studying the levels of give-and-take, such as seeing if there’s an exponential increase of take from what’s given. Capisce?”
Damian and Raven nodded.
“Good luck with your studies. Garfield and Jaime!” Professor Zatara dismissed them, calling the next pair up.
“We can discuss the project while we do our rounds this evening?” suggested Raven as they walked back to their tables.
“Sounds fine, Roth.”
~~~
Damian turned the corner of the Witches’ Coven and stopped short, avoiding Raven with a move that had no right to be as graceful as it did.
Stupid Azraelines and their stupid sensual grace. 
“Ready to tackle the project?” He greeted her with a cordial nod.
She turned to walk with him, nodding in agreement. “How do you want to divide the work?”
“We can both do the research since that will likely require the most time and energy. It would be best to wait until we have a better idea of what this project will entail before we divide the work between ourselves. Does that work for you, Princess?”
“Sounds fine. I just turned in two reports, so I should be free to get a head start on the research while you practice your swordsmanship.” A brilliant solution, in her mind, to her little problem. She could gain at least a rudimentary understanding of the magic before they had to knowledgeably discuss it together. 
Damian nudged a stack of books in the Witches’ Common Room into order, rescuing them from falling at the slightest breeze. “You suggested it, so don’t say I didn’t do my share of the research if you have a problem with me later.” Speaking to the air, he activated his Coven magic. “Raven Roth is voluntarily beginning the research phase of Project #68, also titled Operation Concupiscence.”
She scoffed, brushing her shoulder-length hair behind her ear. “I’m not such a tyrant that I’d keep track of the seconds we each spend on this. Also, concupiscence? Really?”
Damian mumbled something likely uncomplimentary under his breath, holding open the door to the hallway leading to the Mages’ Coven.
Deciding to ignore the insult and take the olive branch (see, she could be gracious), she strode towards the doorway. At the last second, he let it slide shut in her face.
Nevermind. She was going to end him once this project was over.
~~~
Raven sat in the library’s restricted section, thankful for the perks afforded by the Head Girl and one of the students fluctuating between first and second-ranked academically throughout the whole school.
Only a handful of students were allowed in the restricted section, and her nemesis was currently occupied with the duelling club, which he headed.
Satisfied with her privacy, she began collecting the tomes she’d mentally taken note of during earlier strolls through the stacks and carried the armful to the table in the middle of the area.
Pulling out her scroll of notes for this project, she weighted the edges down with the covers of the open books, stopping the curl of the paper that made it difficult to completely fill the parchment with notes.
Dipping her quill in the ink, she began.
Project #68
Due Date: Imbolc Eve
Partner: Damian al Ghul (Demon)
Thesis: Interchange in Lust magic.
References:  
Raven flipped to the title page of the first book, making sure she didn’t accidentally knock over her ink bottle.
Drat, she’d grabbed For the Love of Lust I, not For the Love of Lust II.
She took the book back to its shelf and retrieved the sequel, checking its title page while she was there to ensure no mix-ups occurred a second time. She had a limited period of uninterrupted time here, after all.
Returning to her desk, she picked up her quill and began marking her reference books.
Her hand paused over the final title.
Project #68 (Operation Concupiscence)
Due Date: Imbolc Eve
Partner: Damian al Ghul (Demon)
Thesis: Interchange in Lust magic.
References: For the Love of Lust II, The History of Love Deals and How to Avoid Scams, Nymphomagick: A Volume, How to Fulfill Sexual Summonings, So You Think You’ve Been Put Under a Love Spell, Sensual Creatures and Their Abilities + Uses
“Al Ghul!” she growled, spotting the addition.
How he had found the time to tamper with her scroll, she wasn’t sure, but she was going to give him heaven when she found out. That blessed sneak!
~~~
Damian sneezed violently, his instinctual defensive parry blocking his opponent’s blade as his eyes automatically closed.
Recovering, he disarmed his opponent with a flourish, a smirk taking over the usual no-nonsense set of his jaw. Roth must have found his addition. When he had declared the name of their project earlier, his Coven magic automatically completed it if some were left out. She’d never been able to harness the Coven magic and understand it like him, which was a shame, considering her heritage and raw potential. It made certain things so much easier to keep track of.
~~~
Raven angrily flipped through Sensual Creatures and Their Abilities + Uses, the final book in her pile and so far the least helpful. She could think of a handful of beings known for their sexual appeal and not one appeared between the pages of this out-of-date volume!
An illustration caught her eye and she turned back three pages to see a strange slew of lines, faded red colouring, and lots of sharp-looking marks that she guessed were fangs, or maybe stakes?
‘Vampyre, 1214, illustration by an eyewitness recollectione’, was its title.
The vampyre, or, as some call it, the vampire, is a creature of the night that subsists almost entirely on blood.  
Skipping the paragraphs about the beings, she scanned the page for anything that would further her digging.
Some suggest that there exists a select group of these creatures which have managed to survive by feeding on others’ sexual energies, instead of consuming their blood. This maye be a confusion between vampyres and liderc, or perhaps incubi, or perhaps vampyres have truely changed enough that blood no longer sustains them. Feeding off of sexual energies could stop the rashes of vampyres and their bloodbathes that have steadily grown more common this past sixteenth century.
Finally, something useful! Mentally giving a cheer, Raven pulled the book closer and began studying.
~~~
Damian paused at the sight of Raven, fast asleep in the restricted section. Her head was on her arms, the hood of her cloak pushed back, and she looked soft in the warm glow of the library light.
Raven always kept a neutral expression, but until he saw her relaxed like this, he had assumed it was her default face setting. Now he saw why; she was far too delicate when she relaxed, and to a rule-stickler, top student, and Head Girl like herself, she couldn’t afford to show any softness.
He didn’t know all the details about her backstory, but he knew enough that he understood why she pushed herself so hard and strove to be the best at everything. They were similar in that aspect–in fact, the more he pondered it, the more similarities he found between them.
Shivering at the uncomfortable realization, Damian turned to leave.
At the exit of the restricted section, he paused and turned again.
~~~
Licking her lips, Raven ran her fingers through her hair and sat up, momentarily confused at her surroundings until she remembered how tired she’d been after she finished the day’s research.
She hooked her hands over her shoulders, grabbing for her hood, but pulled something else up instead.
Raven stared at the dark green, almost black, cloak, one hand absently stroking the soft material. She immediately missed the warmth from her back.
~~~
“What’s Roth doing?” Dane, a Year Six student from the Demon Coven, leaned forward to see past Damian at the breakfast table.
Damian turned his head, watching as Raven stalked silently up and down the aisles of tables, something in her hand that she periodically shook her head at.
She turned and started down the next row of tables, and Damian saw his cloak in her hand.
Half-stifling a smirk, he turned back to his breakfast.
“Something funny, al Ghul?”
He glanced up at Raven’s raised brow.
“Nothing more than the usual; your face,” the taunt slipped out, a habit from years of bantering.
Her lips pursed, a minuscule amount that likely no one but he would notice, but she gave no other reaction. Usually, they didn’t attack each other’s features, but he was still a little unsettled that he’d willingly given her his cloak (and now she was making something out of it), so he didn’t apologize and instead squished the tiny shred of guilt.
“What’s the matter? You look a little peaked today…could it be? Has the stick up you-”
“Al Ghul,” her withering tone and pointed look at the younger students, who were all thoroughly invested in their drama, reminded him where he was. “I simply found this cloak and was attempting to return it to its owner.”
“Ms Moone has a lost and found box, you know,” he drawled, raising his eyebrow as he stood, collecting his dishes. 
A faint colour covered her chest, spreading around the edges of her leotard, and his thoughts immediately wandered to curiously wondering how far it spread, if it could get any darker and just how he’d accomplish tha-
“It’s cold out,” Raven interrupted the salacious turn his mind had wandered to. “I didn’t want a student to freeze. I’ll unfortunately see you in Advanced Runes.” With a swish of her cloak, she stalked out of the room, the picture of regal grace.
~~~
As Year Eight students, Damian and Raven were among the oldest students attending Moone’s Institute of Magic and Mythos. Most students graduated once they completed Year Seven, but particularly studious or talented students sometimes stayed another year or two, taking the equivalent of university prep and university courses, appreciating the safety the school afforded them.
Moone’s Institute of Magic and Mythos was a neutral ground for any and all magical creatures and wielders and had a strict no-discrimination policy. Even the students’ parents, guardians, or mentors were not allowed to interfere in anything relating to the school or its students while they were on its grounds, no matter how powerful, influential, or connected they were.
For that reason, some of the students who didn’t have the most stable backgrounds were eager to jump at the chance to further their studies and linger in the relative safety of the Institute before they joined the harsher worlds out there. 
It was practically announcing that something was wrong if you took a Year Eight, but most students preferred to keep their cards close to their chest about the specifics of why they were staying since information was power, and once they graduated Year Eight, any information gained about them from their Institute years was fair game to everyone else.
Raven knew why she was taking a Year Eight, but she didn’t understand why Damian had. Even though his family was the most powerful Azraeline clan, they were what some, including her so-called family, might call decent.
She’d never interacted much with his family, though, as students did not typically receive visitors throughout the school year, and also, why would he want to introduce her to his family. Who knows, maybe the al Ghuls were just as bad as the Trigons. It wasn’t like she particularly cared about him, anyway. Shaking her head, Raven discarded her rambling thoughts about her partner and opened another volume that she hoped would provide her with more information on lust magic.
“Hard at work already, Roth?” the unpleasantly smooth voice of Damian al Ghul sounded behind her.
She glared at him as he slid into the seat perpendicular to her, setting out his books and note scrolls neatly. 
“I was trying to before you interrupted me.” The restrictions on the restricted section of the library needed to be tightened, she decided.
He ignored her pointed jab and unscrewed the lid of his ink jar.
“Sounds like you might need to try some of these potions I’ve come across in my research. Maybe if you got laid, you’d be more pleasant to be around…oh, I see, it’s a catch-22; your unpleasant demeanour drives off anyone who would help you with that problem you have. My apologies, Roth,” he muttered faux-sympathetically.
“I see my ‘unpleasant demeanour’ still hasn’t driven you off,” she retorted. “Seems like you’re my last resort.”
Shifting in her seat, she leaned closer, letting her cape drop as her hand rested on his knee.
Damian’s widened green eyes dropped to take in her long legs and his mouth parted slightly, tempting Raven, but she restrained herself just before her nose brushed his. “If you still stick around after I’ve been so unpleasant, either something is wrong with you, or you’re more attached to me than I thought,” she whispered, her breath skimming his cheek. 
This close, she could hear the rapid thump of Damian’s heartbeat and smell the saffron and rose water that she’d only ever gotten a hint of before. The delicate strength of the aroma was not one she’d have thought Damian would wear, but the strange pairing worked for him.
Sitting back abruptly, she returned to her studying, but she noticed with a pleased twist of her lips that Damian sat unmoving for several minutes before he recovered himself.
Maybe he had a point…
~~~
Year Five
Raven’s cape snagged, pulling her into a dark alcove in the Institute’s halls in the Demon Coven.
“Sh!” The whisper behind her and the hand covering her mouth could only belong to one person.
Damian wrenched his hand away from her with a silent yelp that she could feel him let out as she bit down hard on his flesh.
“What do you want, al Ghul?” Taking a step back, she let the cool stone of the wall she leaned against calm her sudden spike in heart rate.
“You know I’m not trying to insult you, right?” he muttered, shaking his hand in the air as if the breeze would heal his pain.
“It seems kind of hard to interpret the sneers and jibes as anything other than insults,” Raven answered dryly, raising an eyebrow.
Damian tutted, leaning back against the wall opposite her. “I mean, I don’t actually mean what I’m saying. I simply appreciate the mental stimulation of a good verbal spar. It’s come to my attention that I perhaps am making you feel bad, which is not my intention.”
Pursing her lips in slight surprise at Damian’s words, Raven let him stew for a few moments.
“No, I’ve never particularly felt personally insulted by your words. I prefer to pay as little attention as possible to things beneath me.”
Damian huffed and she smirked.
Taking pity on him, she straightened. “No, I don’t mind. I also enjoy our little altercations. I appreciate your attempt to clear this up. See you around, al Ghul.”
“Wait!” Damian’s fingers gently closed around her wrist. 
She looked down at their joined hands, then back to Damian. The moonlight sneaking through the slits in the walls revealed a slightly flustered look on his face, though his tone also gave his discomfort away.
“Sorry, it’s just- the other students have some bets on our…interactions. Neither of us particularly wants their attention, and if we were suddenly-”
“Relax, al Ghul.” She peeled his fingers away from her wrist with her free hand. “Just because we’ve now acknowledged that we don’t take each other’s words to heart doesn’t mean we need to act all friendly. Keep up what we’ve been doing and everything will be fine.”
With a swish of her cape, she resumed her stroll, a grin playing on her lips as she recalled Damian’s unusual flusteredness. It was kind of cute.
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illarian-rambling · 2 months
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Character Introduction: Astra DuClaire, Best Witch of the Borderlands
Three hundred sixty-one, that makes twelve hundred and two in total savings. Twelve hundred and two.... Less than halfway there.
The witch’s eyes flicked up, one burning an exotic blue against her dusky brown skin and the other a chip of ice ringed by ivory white. She was quiet for a long time, relying on her stare to do its work. Beni began to sweat at her refusal to blink, too polite to look away, yet desperate to anyways.
“That thing ate somebody,” Astra finally said. “Ripped ’er clean in two and tried to drink the life inside. Wraiths remember their former lives, in a way. They yearn for things they can no longer feel. ’Cept, they don’t know they can’t get it back and it makes ’em spittin’ mad. So they kill. And they don’t stop till somebody puts ’em down. Now, I don’t know about you, but I think that’s worth five hundred geepae.”
“Please, I really tried to get the money,” Beni whimpered. “Everyone pitched in. I just…. I….”
Astra sighed heavily, though not callously. “If ya don’t have it, ya don’t have it. I ain’t heartless. Hows-about we work up some sorta trade instead?”
The Alderwoman put a hand to her chest with an overjoyed gasp. Astra didn’t try to hide her eye roll.
“Really? Oh, Master DuClaire, you are most generous. I don’t know what a village a’ this size could offer a rune scribe such as yourself—”
The woman held up a hand to cut her off. “To start with, you can call me by the proper title. It’s Ms. DuClaire, not master. I’m a witch. Not a book mage, not an alchemist, not any a' the hundred names people call folk who work in material magic. No one who calls themself that would be out here solvin’ your wraith problem. Ya got it?”
Beni nodded fervently. “I understand, Ms. DuClaire.”
In her eyes, however, it was very clear she did not. Astra didn’t care. Someone this far out wouldn’t have any experience with the taxonomical world of Republic magic and the meanings that came with such names. Just so long as she got the title right though, everything would be copacetic. Astra didn’t want to deal with the hassle that would fly her way if the young Alderman didn’t. She was already skirting the edge of magical malpractice as it was.
Pride and insecurity are the two component parts that make up the witch Astra DuClaire. Both push and pull her from within, as predictable as the tides. She defends what she sees as her subpar magic with white-knuckled fury, hoping that no one can see through the arrogance to the uncertainty within.
Astra was both to a pair of debtors, Dahlia and Elwe DuClaire, in the dinky farming village of Nakaow. Debtors in the Republic are treated much like indentured servants. They work for their contract holder until their debt is paid off, daily room and board prices being added onto what they owe. If that debt is not paid off within their lifetime, then their children must pay it in their stead. This is the shadow Astra grew up under. Though her family was loving and her momma Elwe managed to teach Astra her letters, life in Nakaow was anything but easy. Astra suffered malnutrition, which stunted her growth, and worked for most of her childhood in a rice paddy.
These grueling circumstances lit a flame in the bright young girl. Astra had always heard stories of magic and the miracles it could bring. Though not born a sorcerer, she vowed to learn the trade of book magic to both better her family's situation and sate her own curiosity. When she was sixteen, she traveled on foot to the city of Yewbury to apply to the esteemed Yewbury College of the Arcane. Though she knew nothing of runes yet, Astra assumed they would allow her to join an entry-level class with other students lacking experience. However, the other students weren't barefoot debtors' daughters. She was laughed out of the institute and refused entry.
As demoralizing as this was, Astra refused to let this stop her, though it did instill her with a lifelong loathing of academics. She rented a cheap room in the city in exchange for cleaning the shop below. She snuck into lecture halls. She learned how to break into the famed Yewbury Archive without a library card. She bribed one professor of runic mechanics, Jaimir Savintall, to let her use his lab space in exchange for cleaning up his experiments and grading his papers. Astra worked tirelessly for years to teach herself rune magic, and by the time she was twenty, she proved this learning by building the Extraordinaire, a steam-powered, dragon-legged vardo wagon fueled by nothing but runes.
However, there was still the matter of her certification. The certification exam for a book mage cost four thousand geepae; more money than Astra had ever seen in her life and about the cost of both her mothers' contracts put together. Instead of staying in Yewbury to save up for that, Astra left the dour mage city in pursuit of non-governmental jobs. Her goal was to pay off her parents' contracts, and then maybe go back for her certification, though she was well aware by then that the exams were scored more on nepotism than anything else. Astra would spend the next five years hunting for potion ingredients, battling magical beasts, installing runic machines in poor towns, and equipping the occasional magical prosthetic. It was a lonely life, containing just her, her cat Mercher's Day, and the open road. That loneliness would be broken though, when she encountered a half-scrapped robot lying on the side of the road. Her decision to save it instead of selling it for parts would change the trajectory of Astra's life wildly.
This is where The Mystery of the Mortal God picks up. It's also how Astra makes her first real friend ever; one Mashal Darezsho.
Personality wise, Astra is braggadocious, coarse, prickly, and has a chip on her shoulder the size of a mountain. She speaks about her magic with the utmost bravado, though she doubts her skill deep down due to years of being talked down to by licensed mages. She is very physically affectionate with the few friends she has, and her love language is gift giving, usually by way of some invention. She tends to be very grouchy with people she perceives as smarter or of higher standing than her. This translates as her acting like an arrogant shithead. At the end of the day though, all Astra really wants to do is to help her people, even if that's hard to see sometimes through her vicious need to prove herself and worrying levels of curiosity about matters best left untouched.
As for what she looks like, Astra stands at an optimistic 5'1" in her boots, and she has a curvy build with some decent muscle. Her hair is curly and black. Her skin is a light brown, with vitiligo patches around her mouth and right eye. That right eye is a paler blue than her left, which is the color of a candle flame's heart. She tends to squint with the right eye as well, leading to sort of a half-mad expression. She wears a plum silk coat with gold embroidery and crimson slashed sleeves, the lining of which is stitched with hundreds of multicolored ribbons. Each ribbon is embroidered with a rune. Astra pulls these ribbons from her coat whenever she needs to produce a magical effect. Usually, this effect is fire. Additionally, she wears a straw boatman's hat with a ribbon hanging off the brim.
Now let's get some fun facts!:
Astra is mixed race Shuari and Skarlander. Her momma Elwe is the parent she's biologically related to.
Speaking of Elwe, Astra loves to attribute any crude sayings she comes up with to her momma, though probably about half are of her own making.
Astra's magical specialty is runic engineering. Her least favorite branch of magic is alchemy.
She has a fat tortoiseshell cat named Mercher's Day, named so because she picked him up on a mercher's day.
Her vadro is her proudest accomplishment.
Astra wasn't the one to actually fix Mashal's brain after finding him; she had to take him to her alchemist friend, Tess Bounty. However, the villain and Astra's rival, Vermir, doesn't know this. For Tess's sake, Astra intends to keep it that way.
She loves telling stories, especially to Mashal, even if the more ghostly ones scare him.
She smokes a pipe filled with a blend of tobacco and lhara. Lhara is a swamp remedy for 'restlessness and a flighty mind.' Essentially, it's her fantasy Adderall.
She's incredible at embroidery. It was a hobby as a child, and she only improved her skill after learning she could embroider runes onto sturdy cloth rather than rippable paper.
She identifies as a panromantic, sex ambivalent asexual when she remembers that relationships exist at all. Why would she care about dating when magic exists, after all?
She wishes she'd been born a sorcerer with magic in her blood.
And that's it for Astra "check writin' kinda mouth" DuClaire! Lmk if you have any questions, as always. Next up will be her partner in crime and 100% of her impulse control, Mashal Darezsho.
Have a bitchin day <3
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dreamcrow · 5 months
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I need some Hot Crow Takes on what was the worst example of Villain Decay throughout ToA. also on what Leonora Janeth uses in her hair
send me a meta prompt (currently closed); thank you for the ask!
the arcane and esoteric mysteries of janeth's haircare regimen are beyond my humble (straight-haired) supposings. but for the villain decay? oh, morgana, hands down. 
gunmar is spooky, but a bit of a ham. for most of trollhunters, he’s also relatively distant. bular is a lot closer, and much more of an immediate threat, but he’s always ultimately subordinate (either to stricklander or his father) and he does, in the end, get got by a teenager. angor is initially presented as terrifying, and rightly so, but even if he becomes sympathetic he’s always formidable; stricklander starts out pretty nefarious (especially if you think about some of the implications of e.g. feeding bular a human security guard) but is of course, in proper gdt fashion, domesticated by wuv. obviously i have niche side blorbo brain fungus re: the arcane order but it's hard to assess their actual "villain decay" without having to think about That Film. at any rate, i don't think they're actually the worst example in toa: despite a concept/design that fucks so absolutely severely, once they get on screen, they're not actually built up all that much (or...well). it takes them less than the space of an episode (22 minutes) to go from "dread, ancient terrors that even merlin is afraid of" to "merlin shooing away them, the green knight, and their evil floating skull castle with less effort than he usually spares to criticize douxie." but that's another post.
morgana, though. part of what made her such a compelling villain was how little arthur figured in trollhunters. the existence of merlin implies the existence of arthur, of course, but in trollhunters arthur isn't there at all. instead, we get the negative space of him: his right hand (merlin) and the anti-arthur (morgana). obviously this is partly her role in arthuriana proper, but it also strikes me as pretty deliberate here: merlin's liege vs. merlin's student (and that liege's sister); humanity's last best hope vs. the queen of the otherworld; the king under the mountain vs. the witch under arcadia. i was not very tuned into morgana when i first got into trollhunters, but looking back over the series for this ask, the parallels are so obvious. and so tight! i wouldn't be surprised if some of this was even deliberate.
and the thing is: trollhunters has enough space as a series that its antagonists don't really have to pull their punches. morgana was nasty in trollhunters. pale lady, baba yaga, eldritch queen, mother of monsters—holy shit, right? and she's creepy, too: all muttering whispers and dread ancient magic! she takes angor’s soul, and then his free will. she taunts stricklander while possessing the body of one of his students (while threatening the permanent exile of two more to the depression dimension), and then in the guise of the human he's in love with. speaking to her faithful children—who only exist through morally dubious, unpleasant processes, for which she is implied to be responsible—via institutional heirloom phonograph! she's so much more connected to the shadow realm, here, probably the most compelling justification for reading shadow magic as dangerous. she's the big bad behind angor and gunmar (while playing them both against each other). she absolutely feels evenly paired with merlin, and (rightly) kicks his ass through most of the battle of the eternal night. she's evil but charismatic and even despite all that still a little human: when she taunts jim for not knowing merlin used her hand for the amulet, it isn't without a shadow of what must have been an ancient hurt.
and then. wizards. jesus christ (tired ben affleck smoking dot jpg)
[ » read the rest of the essay on ao3 ]
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harmonyandco · 11 months
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Writing Prompt/Challenge
Going to cross post this a couple places. Writing Prompt/Challenge: No Voldemort/Post-Voldemort AU where the Potters survived that night in Godric’s Hollow. Hermione Granger had the choice between schooling at Hogwarts or at Beauxbatons, and chose the latter after learning that the British Wizarding World was still recovering from the effects of a massive civil war (or alternatively an economic recession which has effected the school). She goes through her years of schooling at Beauxbatons and smashes numerous previous records. Earning plenty of scholarship opportunities. The question then becomes, what’s next for the bright young mundane born witch? There were a number of specialist mastery colleges, which she had considered, then discarded. Finally she decides to apply for schooling at the Magical World’s premier Mastery Level education institution. The International University of the Arcane on the Atlantean Isles. She’s accepted happily, with her wonderful marks and letters of recommendation from her previous Professors. Now all she needs in some housing. Most student get housing on Campus. However it is a little pricey and she’d really like to see more of the Isle during her time there. Which leaves a couple options. First) She could rent/share a house with a fellow student her age OR Second) she could apply to the scholarship foster program that has families of the Isles housing and aiding/educating the students under their care. She’s thrilled to discover that Lily Marie Potter nee Evans, a fellow English Ex-pat, World Renowned Charms, Runes and Rituals Mistress has an opening for a promising student who meets her exacting criteria. She meets the woman, who she’s surprised to learn is married to a senior member of ICW Law Enforcement and manages to impress. Earning a place in the student suite on the grounds of the Potter Manse. She’s pleasantly surprised to meet a fellow student her first day there. Mistress Potter’s son, rising ICW Hit Wizard Harry James Potter, who happens to be taking mastery level courses in Law, Defense and ‘something else, which he isn’t authorized to discuss’. The friendly and surprisingly humble green-eyed wizard invites her to a night on the town and sparks soon fly between them. TLDR: Hermione ends up effectively rooming with Harry at Magical University. Romance ensues. (I did not do any editing of this post. As such there may be minor errors.)
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astarab1aze · 2 months
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Belegerande's School & (some of) Belle Valley
Nestled in the expansive and nebulous American South lies Belegerande’s School for the Arcane, a well-respected magical institution focusing on the education and behavioral correction of sorcerous beings, operating as what magicless folk might call an alternative school. In effect, Belegerande’s curriculum focuses on exposure to all things dark and terrible, for they believe a student can only become a well-rounded sorcerer if they are knowledgeable in all fields of sorcery and, therefore, capable of defending or dismantling offensive and dangerous magic. It was built by the fretfully late Alistair Belegerande in the late 15th century, following a schism between his party of disaffected sorcerers and the British and French Crowns, all in search of observed freedom, flexibility, and life without the moral busybodies and foolish piety of religious folk.
Belegerande's operates on a house system, dividing its student body into multiple, diverse groups so as to promote teamwork among varying supernatural species. Houses are not divided according to personality or ambition; In fact, there are multiple factors that go into student placements, such as lineage, species, individual talent, and more. As an example, Loux, being a shapeshifter with an affinity for multishifting and offensive sorceries, would have been slotted into House Laveau; Vayn, being a vampire with especially unqiue proclivities toward herbalism and alchemy, would have been slotted into House Le Fay; and Sortia, being a witch with formiddable talents in divination and illusions, would have been sorted into House Scrivener. The fourth house is House Bell, which necromancers usually end up placed in, such as Enfurious Night.
Most other schools do not follow the house system, thinking it an antiquated and confusing practice. Instead, they tend to go by school spirit, forcibly pulling most of supernatural society away from the idea. So, Belegerande's is treated as a very well-equipped alternative school that holds a lot of sway in every aspect but this one.
Despite its current disrepaired reputation under Spira Belegerande, the school is a very prestigious institution, commanding the respect of most supernaturals throughout the supernatural world. It's praised for its dedication to a well-rounded and thorough education, but defamed for its willingness to cross boundaries and teach about even the worst forms of magic. Their belief is that the only way a supernatural can hope to be prepared to survive is if they know as much about their world as they can, from the acceptable to the forbidden, and such has proven a winning strategy over the centuries despite a few hiccups. Belegerande's has churned out a few of the worst and vilest supernatural beings since its establishment...
Belle Valley
Like most other places in the supernatural world, Belegerande's and the whole of Belle Valley are kept behind endlessly folded layers of wrinkled time, charmed and manipulated by sorcery in an effort to keep all things supernatural hidden from the mundande masses. It is unwise to hang about in the open as the non-magic population is split on its beliefs of the supernatural and arcane alike, so long-standing locations such as Belle's Hollow, Altus, Monroe, Salem's Crossing, etc. are hidden away in equal measures of tenacity and enchantment.
Any non-magic entity attempting to enter explicitly magical places inhabited by supernaturals will be easily redirected via GPS to non-magic locations. As the supernatural world works in conjunction with the United States Department of Regulatory Sorceries, a secret arm of the US government, this process of redirection is more or less seamless. Unless said non-magic entity already knows what they're looking for, they will be unable to find magical locations outside of the purview of places like Belegerande's.
Belle Valley is, with that said, located at the junction of multiple Crossroads; An impossible series of lay lines stitching pieces of Louisiana, Alabama, Texas, and Mississippi together.
Places to Check Out in Belle Valley (i went full corny on this)
Belle's Hollow, the bustling town just outside of Belegerande's
The Raven & the Writing Desk, the popular antiques shop run by C. Montgomery
Forgotten Lore, this bookstore has every tome, scroll, or book you'd ever need
The Twisted Knot, local staves & wands shop
The Witch's Kris, local athame & ritual dagger smith
Ambiance Noir, gothic Cajun bistro
SpeedTrap Broom & Supply, enchanted broom and care shop
The Bearded Lady's Parlor Esthetica, local beauty, supply, and personal care shop
Cloak & Dagger, apparel shop
Viri's Flytrap, local herbalist & apothecary
The Night Shoppe, the Night family's necromantic supply shop
Pot & Kettle's, alchimcal supply store
Simone's, a coffee and tea shop owned and operated by Simone Belegerande
The Gothic Theater, a performing arts theater for plays, dances, musical performances, magical performances, etc.
Callahan's Familiar Supply, feed & supply store for familiars and beasts
The Chugging Serpent, riverboat cruises & ferry rides run by Althea Wildebrand
Bloody Mary's, the local bar run by Mary Bloomwood
Gildebanque's, local bank run by the Gilde family
The Magic Mailbox, local package & mail service (arm of the USPS)
The Packhouse - West, gathering hub for shapeshifters
Luckshot's Diner, local restaurant run by former racing champion Luckshot
Altus, another town one can reach by taking the ferry
Monroe, another town one can reach by following the Mirewood Crossings
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Bakugou x Reader
Tags/Warnings: Angst, fluff, smut, ambiguous ending for the first work but will be resolved in a good ending in the second, reader has an empathy quirk, witch!reader, defense attorney!reader, inspired by St. Trinian's (please go watch it, it needs more love!), institutional exploitation and abuse, first kiss, trafficked individuals (in police cases, not on-screen trafficking or anything)
Series Playlist
Series Description:
It is well-known that St. Angela’s Preparatory School is the maddest, baddest boarding school for girls in the whole city— perhaps the whole world. It is also well known that St. Angela’s only rival in size and scope is the (in)famous U.A., the top hero school in the nation. However, mysterious rumors surround St. Angela’s— sinister, arcane, mostly-true rumors, rumors that have made the school many enemies over the years— and as a result, it often falls on U.A. to renew the public’s faith in its ability to contain and control the little witches of St. Angela’s. 
In the grand scheme of things, however, Bakugou has a hard time figuring out what the big deal is until he meets (Y/N)— a young woman with impossible powers and the ability to make him feel more vulnerable than he's ever felt in his life. She is everything he's never known he always wanted, but when a cruel twist of fate makes them rivals too soon and friends too late, he learns a hard lesson that will stick with him for a very, very long time. 
Don't play with magic, kids. It's a real killer.
Part I: The Entire Appalling Business
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Part II: Touch Me Maybe, Touch Me More (coming soon)
ao3 link here
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snowberry-crostata · 1 year
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The Clever Craft: Magic in Skyrim
I refuse to believe that, in a world so steeped in gods and mysticism and supernatural creatures, all Nords are backwater magic-hating luddites. Does the canon really mean to tell me that a nation of warriors wouldn’t be scrying runes to light their swords on fire at every possible opportunity? I strongly suspect that the reaction you get when you ask Nord innkeepers about magic is a reaction to the Imperial study and practice of magic, which is strongly rooted in Eleven scholarship and tradition (along with some lingering anti-magic sentiment following the Oblivion Crisis). In my mind, the Nords have a strong tradition of magic and enchanting outside of the Imperial tradition, one deeply rooted in both mysticism and utility
The Court Wizard Court wizards are found in every Jarl’s court in Skyrim, and occupy a position of honor and prestige. In the hierarchy of the Jarls’ courts, the wizard occupies equal status to the housecarl (though is still inferior in rank to the steward) signifying the Jarls’ respect for their talents. They advise the Jarls on matters of the arcane and may offer their services to the citizens of the hold. Court wizards may take on apprentices but rarely do so, preferring to direct those seeking knowledge of magic to the College instead.
The Wise Folk Unlike mages elsewhere in the Empire, the vast majority of magic users throughout Skyrim’s long history have been Wise Folk, hedge witches and wizards who learn and hone their craft outside of the formal schools of magic. The Wise Folk are respected members of Skyrim’s communities, though their numbers have dwindled over the centuries. Within rural communities (and in cities during ages past), wise men and women have traditionally served as advisors, lore-keepers, enchanters, healers, and even midwives. Their magical practices arise from old Nordic and Atmoran traditions, and are deeply tied to the natural and animalistic aspects of those beliefs. The Wise Folk are often accomplished alchemists with deep knowledge of the region’s flora and fauna. They rarely record their knowledge in writing, instead preferring to pass teachings down from master to apprentice, a process which can take decades.
The College of Winterhold While the knowledge of the Wise Folk is handed down from teacher to apprentice, there is one institution in Skyrim where mages can go to learn magic in the Imperial tradition. Both the College of Winterhold and the ancient city from which it takes its name were (supposedly) raised by the legendary mage Shallidor in the First Era. Located at Hsaarik Head, as far north as one can go before wading into the Sea of Ghosts, the College is Skyrim’s only formal school of magic. Despite its remote location, its prestige and reputation attract students from across Tamriel, particularly following the dissolution of the Mages Guild. Modern Nords treat the College with mistrust and its reputation is, perhaps, not wholly undeserved. Whispered accusations of necromancy and louder objections about the College following the Great Collapse (from which the College was mysteriously spared) have soured most Nords on its potential. Little has been done to repair the College’s reputation as Arch-Mage Aren prefers that the College’s mages do not interact with the Winterhold locals. The Arch-Mage has kept the College’s traditional neutrality during Skyrim’s civil war, to the displeasure of both sides.
Temples and Priests While mages from the College of Winterhold are treated with distrust and suspicion, priests in Skyrim enjoy a better reputation among the common folk. Priests serve a number of functions including healing the sick and wounded, proving counsel, officiating marriages, and overseeing the dead. Those serving Kyne and Mara often focus on healing magic (though priests of Kyne, the warrior-wife, have no objection to destruction magic either). Priests at temples of Talos are often sought out by warriors seeking blessings before battle. While priests of Arkay perform a necessary function in preparing and overseeing the dead, their association with the testing god, Orkey, renders most Nords suspicious of them.
Witches of Skyrim Not all mages in Skyrim are as benign or trustworthy as the Wise Folk. Skyrim’s remote wilderness is fertile ground for outlaw mages and necromancers seeking to practice their craft unimpeded. Destruction mages often find themselves in the employ of bandit groups, while conjurers and alchemists with darker impulses find isolated caves and cabins in which to practice their foul arts.
Necromancy has been practiced in Skyrim since the early ages, and mages in the region display mixed reactions to its use. The practice of necromancy in Skyrim dates back to the days of the Dragon Cults, whose priests used necromantic magic to protect their temples and tombs by raising draugr. When a priest or high ranking noble died, their warriors were ritually slain, embalmed, and preserved as draugr to protect their tombs from looters and serve their priests in undeath. In modern times, most of Skyrim’s citizens disapprove of necromantic practices; however, necromancers find it easier to operate in Skyrim than in other provinces due to the inhospitable terrain and the numerous, well-stocked barrows and tombs. In contrast to the former Mages Guild, the College of Winterhold claims to disapprove of necromancy but allows, or at least tolerates, its practice among their mages (provided that they conduct their business discreetly).
Battlemages Once a common sight on the Nordic battlefield, by the Fourth Era battlemages are rarely found among Skyrim’s warriors. The reasons for this decline are not well-documented. Perhaps following the centralization of the magical arts under the College of Winterhold and Vanus Galerion’s Mages Guild, magic became more strongly associated with Imperial and Elven practices, leading to it falling out of favor in Skyrim. Apart from the destruction mages occasionally encountered during bandit raids, magic is rarely seen in combat.
Another of Skyrim's lost magical arts is the Voice, or Thu’um. In the early ages of man, the dragon priests and warriors of Skyrim learned to project their vital essence into Shouts which could be for a variety of purposes, such as killing enemies, traveling quickly, and controlling animals and weather. Following the Nords’ defeat at Red Mountain in the First Era, Jurgen Windcaller established the Way of the Voice. With the rise of the Way, the use of the thu’um among Skyrim’s warriors fell into steep decline and eventually became an art that was lost to all but the ardently pacifistic Greybeards of High Hrothgar.
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WHITE DAY!
arcane witch institute — dorm leaders
a/n: white day cards!! woo! i tried my best to imitate what twst did haha. originally i was gonna speedrun the dorm logos for this but decided i was too lazy lol…oops. justin’s and brennan’s letters were hard to format, maybe i shouldn’t have made them write so much-
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on this special day, those who have received gifts from people reciprocate by giving gifts back. all students in arcane witch institute are giving presents left and right today…
oh! a letter has arrived for you! let’s see what it says, shall we?
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some notes:
the ‘konyd’ character mentioned in galerons’ letter is the grim equivalent of the school!
the ‘naseem’ character mentioned in rayans’ letter is the male version of alya (twst iago)
the ‘atlas’ character mentioned in heros’ letter is the male version of andrea (twst cerberus)
the ‘brennan maleficarum’ guy is the son of mort and the male version of deirdre (twst diablo)
speaking of brennan, don’t take the ominous tone of his letter seriously LMAO he’s just Like That. i promise nothing’s gonna happen to you
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sapphicwhump · 1 year
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After Irithyll 6 - Blame
Fandoms: Dark Souls, Dark Souls III Tropes: emotional whump, traumatized whumpee TWs: self-victim-blaming, internalized misogyny
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        There are a few different reasons for why you’re seeking out Karla today.
        First and foremost is the ancient pyromancy tome you currently have under your arm. It had been the subject of a heated argument between you and Cornyx this morning, and now you’re putting some distance between you and him as an act of petty frustration.
        “Quelana’s pyromancies are for women” my ass. While Cornyx is dependable as a friend, he’s considerably less so as an educator. The old fool wouldn’t know arcane power if it fell into his lap, even literally so, in this case.
        Your other primary reason for visiting Karla is the surprise you’ve prepared for her, and the makeshift canvas talisman tucked away in your back pocket. Irina had been more than happy to teach you one of her healing miracles, but having to painstakingly memorize all its lines of scripture in a language you can’t understand makes you pity anyone who can call themselves a cleric. However, as long as Karla appreciates it, it’ll have been more than worth it.
        As soon as Karla lifts the curtain over her alcove, you present the confounding tome to her. “Cornyx refused to teach me this. He said I needed to learn it from a witch.”
        She takes it from you, parsing its singed cover with a curious eye. “Hm, alright. Not exactly my field of expertise, but I will unravel it as best I can.” She gestures an invitation to enter, and you take a seat beside her in the alcove, prepared to delve into the tome’s arcane content from over her shoulder.
        “Sorry for bothering you with this. I don’t know why Cornyx was so insistent. I checked the pages for any sort of magical infusion that would prevent a man from reading it, but it’s completely mundane. There’s no reason he shouldn’t be able to.”
        She examines the inside of the front cover, pausing to focus on a tiny scribble in the bottom corner. “Hm… I recognize this signature. Oh, this tome was penned by Quelana herself! That might explain Cornyx’s reluctance.”
        “Yeah, that’s what he told me. I get that it’s ancient, but I still don’t understand why he’d deny himself the chance to learn some of the very first pyromancies ever cast by humans.”
        She sighs, but her knowing smile suggests no exasperation. “You likely already picked up on this, but the origins of the different magical arts has led to preconceived notions of them being inherently masculine or feminine. Starting with the Witch of Izalith and then later Quelana, pyromancy was created first and foremost by women, and thus some see female pyromancers as emulating the art’s originators more closely.” She briefly grins in amusement. “Perhaps Cornyx felt that learning Quelana’s spells would be emasculating.”
        “That would explain why he refused my suggestion to wear the Reversal Ring while reading it.” The laugh that Karla responds with warms you from within.
        Your earlier frustration has been supplanted by curiosity. “So what kind of magic would be considered manly?”
        “As you might expect, soul sorceries have a more masculine reputation. Seath the Paledrake fathered the soul arts to compensate for his lack of dragon breath, and as such, sorcery schools tend to be rather patriarchal institutions. The field is still heavily male-dominated.”
        The information lines up with your observations in the field. You’ve certainly faced far more master sorcerers than master sorceresses in battle. “You said hexes are passed down matrilineally; I take it it’s similar?”
        “Yes. Although Manus was the father of the Dark, the matrilineal tradition began with his four daughters. The hat in particular — ” she tips hers, “ — is the mark of one who follows this tradition.”
        “Wait… you’re a Daughter of Manus!?”
        “Well, not directly. More like great-great-great-I don’t know how many greats-granddaughter. Still, the magic is in our very blood. It is my mother's curse, the first thing she ever gave to me.”
        “That’s so cool!”
        Karla balks. “ Cool? My lineage is one of the most accursed in existence. We were spawned from a terrible sin, and that sin has been passed down from mother to mother until me. Our blood is tainted with the foulest darkness ever seen in Lordran, and we have reveled in it for generations. How is that cool? ”
        “Why wouldn’t it be? Manus gifted your ancestor with a chunk of his Dark Soul, much more than the tiny sliver the rest of us have. It’s like you’re part magic itself! I admire your family’s commitment to the study of that power.”
        “Power is only admirable when divorced from context. If that power comes at the expense of your morality, or your wellbeing, or your freedom, I think you’d agree there’s little to admire in that.” She gestures to you with the book’s open pages. “Now, I believe you requested we learn about pyromancies, not my family history.”
        “You really think learning hexes requires the sacrifice of those things?”
        She groans. “Is this truly relevant to your edification?”
        “Absolutely.”
        “...Hm . Fine, since it’s clear where your interests lie.” She snaps the pyromancy tome shut and sets it aside. “While sacrifice may not be the right word for it, hexing certainly takes its toll in other ways. This magic has a way of… catching up with you. There was a reason I was reluctant to teach it to you, and I still have my misgivings about it.”
        “And those would be?”
        “Well for one, you’re not my daughter. I know it makes no difference, but on some level, it still feels somewhat improper to violate that tradition. But, that’s not the primary reason.
        “Witchcraft is… more base than other forms of magic, such as soul sorcery. Sorcery comes from an intellectual understanding and mastery over one’s own soul, while my hexes are irrational and chaotic, drawn only from raw emotion. Sorcery is an enlightened pursuit of knowledge; hexing is a degenerative reveling in the muck of humanity. I feel some guilt over leading you down my mother’s dark path.”
        Your lip pulls up in distaste. “Oh, please don’t tell me that that has anything to do with them being matrilineal.”
        Her eyes are distant. “...I’m really not sure anymore.”
        “Y’know, a lot of people also look down on pyromancy as base and chaotic. Pyromancers are typically shunned rather than imprisoned, though; that’s why the biggest pyromancy school is set up in a swamp far away from society. Did Izalith’s daughters draw as much scorn as you did for daring to practice magic as women?”
        “I think it’s more likely that they drew scorn for unleashing demons upon the world.” Karla distances herself from you, shifting to the middle of the alcove. “However, that scorn you mention is another of my misgivings. There are truths hidden in the Dark that mankind would rather shut away forever, and this has long been used as justification for acts of extreme violence against those like us. Irithyll dungeon is hardly the worst of it; the Abyss Watchers favored crucifixion. I’ve grown rather fond of you, so I’d prefer not to see you go hollow locked away in a cell or nailed to a cross.”
        “It seems like other people are what’s dangerous, not hexes.”
        “It doesn’t matter much when the end result is the same, does it? Either way, it was my own study of hexes that brought my imprisonment upon me. I would hate to bring a similar fate upon you.”
        “I’m an adult. I know the risks. If I wasn’t confident that dealing with the prejudice was worth it, then I wouldn’t have asked to be your apprentice. If anyone has a problem with that, they can talk to my Flame.”
        Karla emits a short laugh, cynical and cheerless. “It’s funny; as a child, I had a very similar attitude. I’d rage and shout empty threats at anyone who dared insult me over the hat, even got into a few fights over it. Now… I find it increasingly difficult to disagree with them.”
        “Is that why you’re so fond of deprecating yourself?”
        Karla narrows her eyes at you. “I was imprisoned for a reason. I told you as much when you carried me out of the dungeon. ‘I am no exception,’ remember?” Her next sentence is muttered, and you barely catch it under her breath. “Still can’t fathom why you even let me out in the first place.”
        You reel back. “Karla…”
        You don’t deserve this, you want to shout at her. How do I show you you don't deserve this? How can I make you see in yourself the same things I see in you?
        “Imagine if I was in that position. If I was the heretic, and you rescued me from the dungeon. Would you tell me I’m the one at fault for getting myself locked up? Would I be the one to blame for my own suffering?”
        That gets her attention. She gives a shameful wince, if only for a moment.
        “I don’t—” she stops herself short. “You’re not like me. I wouldn’t ever want to see you in that dungeon.”
        “How am I different?”
        She has to briefly pause in thought. “...You’re kind. You give endlessly without any expectation of reciprocity, despite how undeserving I am. You may be… simple, perhaps, but I find your single-minded dedication just as endearing as it is frustrating.”
        “And you’re not kind?”
        She scoffs. “Kindness doesn’t befit a hexer. Cruelty is inherent to the magic, wallowing in our own suffering to inflict it on others. You’ve done it yourself; you know what it feels like.”
        “Well then… maybe you should be a bit more kind to yourself? Gods know you’ve had enough cruelty in your life.”
        She places a hand over her forearm. “I… will not argue with that.”
        An awkward silence falls between you. You wait for her to further protest, but she seems no longer inclined to continue the argument.
        “Now, shall we get back to a more relevant topic?” she lifts the pyromancy tome to you.
        “Actually, speaking of kindness, I, um… I wanted to do something kind for you today.”
        “Oh?”
        “The pyromancy tome isn’t the only thing I wanted to show you. I know you like to keep your distance from Irina, but I got her to teach me a healing miracle.” Karla eyes you cautiously, as if you might turn a blade on her at any moment. “And after I saw your arm a few days ago…”
        You extract the canvas talisman from your pocket. As soon as she realizes where you’re going with this, her face immediately twists from hesitance to exasperation. From the pain in her eyes, you immediately feel as if you've misstepped.
        “...I realized what must have happened. So I was hoping I could maybe do something about that scar?”
        She’s clutching her forearm again when she answers. “No, it’s… it’s fine, Ashen One. You shouldn’t have wasted so much time memorizing that miracle for me.”
        “It’s not a waste if it would help you.”
        “Then you truly did waste your efforts. I am not interested in your help, or your pity.” she snaps. “My disfigurements are my own. It doesn't behoove you to go digging in open wounds.”
        You can't help but wince. “Look… if you wish to keep the scar, that's your business. But if it really is a disfigurement to you, please let me help you. I want you to be safe and healthy and—”
        She pushes Quelana's pyromancy tome back into your arms. "Leave. I am not interested in speaking of this right now.”
        You fall silent immediately. “R-right. Sorry.”
        The walk of shame away from Karla’s alcove is a familiar one by this point. Regret bites into you as you climb the stairs to the atrium. Shouldn’t have said anything, shouldn’t have pried, shouldn’t have made it worse. You wonder how many more times Karla will shove you away just as you get close; if you're doomed to forever be separated at arms' length. If that's what she wants, you care for her too much to turn her down, you suppose.
        With nothing else to do today, you sink back into your own alcove and crack open Quelana's tome to glean what you can on your own.
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sleeplesssmoll · 5 months
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Reverse1999 Story Recap Project
I am trying and stitch together an easy to follow plot line since there are a lot of easy to miss details and moving parts in Reverse1999. I'm going to do it in chronological order (3, intro, 1,2,4). I will also include tidbits from other chapters if I think the information is relevant. Naturally, their will be spoilers. Reverse1999 has an amazing story but I won't lie, a lot of things go over my head. If anything looks wrong, pls correct me! I am always open to suggestions. Heck, tell if it looks ugly too. Formatting is my nemesis.
That being said, this section focuses on how Manus Vindicate, the Foundation, and the Storm turned Vertin into the Timekeeper. It is mostly a recap of Ch 3 with added information for clarity's sake. Word count: 3625 ish
Only click Keep Reading if you're ready to be scrolling for a while.
Background information
Arcanists: A race that contains a unique cell colony allowing them to perform arcane skills (magic, divination, alchemy, etc.). They do not follow reasoning like mankind and instead practice Gnosis. There are two defining features of Gnosis:
1. It can't be verified by an independent 3rd party. 
2. It’s impossible to comprehend through reasoning. 
Because of this, arcanists are labeled as unpredictable and dangerous by humanity. There is a long history of humans associating arcanum with demons, evil, and witches. 
The Storm: The Storm is a widespread disaster first observed in 1999. It marked the end of an era and is the catalyst for the main story. 
Humans will suffer “Storm Syndrome” as the Storm draws near. The symptoms of Storm Syndrome and the mutations around the Storm depend on the era. However, arcanists are protected from Storm Syndrome thanks to their arcanum. Arcanists are able to perceive the changes in the world brought by the Storm but are not immune to reversal, the true horror of the Storm.
“Raindrops” emerge from the ground and rise into the sky along with everything around them once the Storm arrives. They phase through matter. Time reverses into a previous era while everything caught in the Storm disappears (will explain exceptions later).
St. Pavlov Foundation (The Foundation): A public institution dedicated to the study of arcanum and the indoctrination of arcanists. They seek children with arcane talents from around the world. They say they strive for peace between arcanists and humanity but peace is not the same as equality. The Foundation experiments on young arcanists as they indoctrinate them. All training and scientific provided appliances by St. Pavlov is to overcome the instability of arcane skills in order to ensure the peace and stability of the human world ( Chapter 3-1). In other words, the Foundation is training obedient dogs (hence Pavlolv) to die as martyrs for the sake of humanity. This allows humanity  to benefit off of arcanum skills without worry of an uprising from the arcanists kept on the Foundation’s leash.
The Foundation’s buildings are immune to the Storm. Both humans and arcanists are safe within its walls. They conducted many experiments in the search for true Storm Immunity but only one candidate succeeded in obtaining the antibody. Vertin is the only known arcanist with Asymmetric Protein G. She is also one of their most troublesome students.
Manus Vindictae: A terrorist organization that believes in Arcanist Supremacy. They are also recruiting arcanists to fight against humanity and utilize the chaos caused by the Storm to further their agenda. They are the Foundation's biggest enemy and they are still growing. They also know how to manipulate the Storm and can accelerate its arrival. They rewrite history while the world reverses.
Manus Vindictae gives their followers Masks claiming it will keep them safe from the Storm. However, a conversation between two followers in Chapter 2 reveals this is not the full picture. The Mask does not guarantee their safety and only in the “Sanctuary” are they protected from the Storm’s influence. One of the followers then turns into a monster that can no longer be reasoned with while the other flees (we may have more insight into this later).
We can see both factions lie and manipulate their followers.
Vertin's Journey
Vertin is the youngest child to be taken in by the Foundation at just a month old. The story begins when she is 12 years old. She’s a notorious trouble maker and her arcanum abilities have yet to manifest. Despite her lack of arcanum abilities, the Foundation demands the same results from her as the rest of the students.
Sonetto and Vertin are assigned as each other's deskmates in school. Sonetto is at the top of the class, Vertin is at the bottom. While Sonetto spends her days working hard in class, Vertin skips to play outside. She catches frogs and collects pebbles, even if it means sticking her hand through the electric fence to do so in order to experience the outside world.
Sonetto doesn't understand Vertin’s obsession with the outside world but Vertin still tries to share her interests with her. After one of her escapades, Vertin shows Sonetto a frog she caught outside. Hyla Arborea, the foreteller of rain. While Vertin is enthusiastically explaining the frog's traits, Sonetto cuts her off. Sonetto reiterates the Foundations Student Handbook and reminds Vertin they are not supposed to show interest  in the outside world. She asks Vertin to stop bringing her things because they are “meaningless”. Vertin’s excitement evaporates. She can’t understand why Sonetto isn’t  curious about the outside world like her. The two are on opposite sides, both unbudging in their beliefs. Eventually, Sonetto repeats the instructors’ words to her. “To live is to lose things around them until the day they lose their life to death itself.” Vertin is stunned and the debate ends.
Things continue as usual at the school. One day during an assembly, Vertin steps out of line to see the Principal more clearly because she is moved by his speech. After the Principal takes notice of her and makes her return to the line, he decides to ask her what her thoughts are since she is a unique student who spent most of her life at St. Pavlov. He promises to answer any question she has.
 “What is the Storm, Sir?”
And from that point on, everything changes. Vertin is sent to the guardhouse. It’s a damp, cold building where naughty children are left to fend for themselves. There are low level Critters to fight and a few tools for the kids to use as they try to endure until someone comes to retrieve them after they served their time. They are left without food, sometimes for days depending on the severity of their actions.
However, there are “worse punishments than confinement” and Vertin is warned to never bring up the Storm again. The Storm is a taboo subject that is not public information. 
The guardhouse is full of Shamir Worms, Critters capable of chewing through most material including metal. At first, Vertin is excited to see the Shamirs up close and in real life. Here we find out she is quite knowledgeable about beasts despite being an awful student. However, her excitement is short-lived when the Shamirs start biting her.
While the professors taught the students basic arcanum skills to deal with these creatures, Vertin has yet to cast a single incantation at this point.  In this moment, she expresses her doubts about even being an arcanist in the first place. Vertin is forced to think fast while fighting off the Shamirs and making a safe spot for herself. Thanks to her wit, she manages to escape the room of Shamirs by making them eat the lock on one of the doors. 
Vertin meets a boy locked in one of the rooms as she makes her escape. He calls himself The Ring. He can catch anything within the rings he carries, which he shows off by catching one of Vertin's shoelaces. Vertin is impressed, but doesn’t let him out of his room because if he leaves and doesn't come back on time, they’ll both be faced with harsher punishments. However, she offers to bring him back whatever food he'd like since she is going to get some herself. Note, she steals food from the Staff Canteen, not the Second Canteen where the kids get their meals. She’s having what the instructors are having. This detail shows us Vertin is used to performing these types of stunts.
After the tiny rogue returns from her stealth run, she lets The Ring out and the two strike up a conversation. She tells The Ring she brought up the Storm at the school assembly. The Ring finds this hilarious while Vertin is confused as to why they would punish her when they're the ones who said she could ask whatever she wanted. The Ring asks where she heard the word.
Vertin heard the word from her dormitory’s janitor as he was being escorted outside the school and onto a truck. He screamed “The Storm is coming!” Repeatedly as they took him away. Vertin tried to get answers from staff but no one gave her an explanation. She brings up an “Uncle Morris” who said the janitor left the school at the inappropriate time and saw inappropriate things so he needed treatment. (I have a feeling this Uncle Morris might come up later).
In response to this information, The Ring brings up his theory about the school blocking the news feeds. He shows Vertin a stack of papers he stole from the staff office. The pamphlets claim the Storm is a looming danger that the Foundation is trying to cover up. However, the paper does not explain what the Storm is. 
At the end of the article there is a line in bold: Welcome to Manus Vindictae. 
The children discover a poem printed on the back and are inspired by it. 
Meanwhile, the Foundation is trying to counter Manus Vindictae's efforts to expose them. Constantine(politician) is the leader of these efforts and Madam Z (scientist) is her right hand. Time reversion has slashed the Foundation's manpower and resources. Manus Vindictae's pamphlets were airdropped to many places, including the School of Primary Defense of Mankind (SPDM). Manus Vindictae uses aerial creatures called Olitiaus (flying manta ray creatures) to deliver them. Constantine realizes that Manus Vindictae must have a command post nearby and it must be immune to the Storm like the Foundation buildings. Zeno trainees (air force soldiers like Lilya) are recruited to defend the school while defense teams are sent out to scout the location of the base. 
Back to Vertin, she and The Ring decide to set up a secret meeting for students who are curious about the outside world. The meeting is held at 9pm under George the Oak, a massive oak tree in the yard. Vertin also gets into a fight with some bullies who try to blackmail her, but she makes it out despite not being able to use arcanum.
That night, many curious classmates arrived at the meeting. Amongst them are Matilda, Mesmer Jr., and Isabella.
Mesmer Jr. is the first one to break the silence. She is from a long line of psychologists in the arcanum world. Because of all the madness and insanity her family had to deal with when working with arcanists, she despises them. This is relevant later.
Mesmser Jr. wants to know if Vertin is trying to start a rebellion. Vertin is shocked because it never crossed her mind. This is a relief to everyone and the kids start to talk. The Ring and Vertin show Manus Vindictae's poem to the students. Vertin says the poem inspired her to explore her curiosity about the outside world as well as her sense of self. She leads the conversation and asks the kids to share their backstories so can piece together what life is like beyond the walls. The Ring records their stories with pencil and paper. After a while, they turn their attention back to the poem. They notice it matches the melody of their school song and decide to sing it. Feeling emboldened by it, they create a plan to sing it at the Parade Ceremony. They want to be heard and they believe that the people who raised them will listen. 
Isabella turns to Vertin. “They will understand us, won't they, Vertin? After all, they brought us up and cared for us!”
Vertin hesitates. 
She mentions that they might be upset or blame them, but it's worth a try. The kids begin to practice the song in preparation for the Parade Ceremony for the next two weeks.
On the day of the Parade Ceremony, the scene opens up with Sonetto confronting Vertin. Sonetto was on duty yesterday and noticed Vertin wasn't in the dormitory. She advises Vertin to behave because she can tell she's plotting something behind the instructors’ backs. If she doesn't, she'll have to report Vertin. Vertin answers with the softest “Okay” I have ever heard in my life.
The children sing their song with Isabella as the lead. Sonetto is stunned and falters. Finally the Principal realizes what's happening. The children are singing Manus Vindictae's poem.
The Principal orders them to stop. When they don’t, they order Sonetto to stop them. Sonetto freezes. She gets dizzy and her heart races.
Vertin speaks up. She pleads with the Principal to listen to them. She asks for a chance to let them be themselves.
The Principal orders the security to grab Isabella (lead singer). She is taken down by guards and their batons. Hoses and Dumbitter potion are prepared. Dumbitter potion is legalized for crowd control purposes only. It's very bitter, pungent, and can cause temporary vision disorder and speech disorder. High concentrations can lead to paralysis and hallucination. It is outlawed in many cases except for extreme circumstances. For example, singing children.
The children are blasted by Dumbitter potion from the hoses. 
Vertin calls out to Isabella.
Isabella gives her a sad smile while being pulled and pushed around by the guards. Vertin orders the kids to protect Isabella. They sing while crying despite the potion. Vertin shouts orders, telling her friends to step back and protect themselves. “Stand in a circle, shorter ones inside!” They continue to resist while protecting one another under Vertin's guidance.
The Principal orders his Safety Supervisor to shoot tear gas above them. Instead, he fired it directly at Vertin and hit her in the leg. Vertin goes down while directing her allies.
Vertin falls into a coma, which  isn’t surprising considering her injuries and the Dumbitter potion. Luckily, she made a full recovery and can attend class. 
Constantine cannot believe the bullshit she is hearing as Madam Z debriefs her. Vertin catches her interest since she led the children. She remembers Vertin as that kid who stuck her arms outside the front gate to catch a frog during the Storm. Constantine drops this on us. 
“She's special. Makes me think of her mother.”
At this moment, there is a divide between the Foundation and the children. After the Parade Ceremony, the kids will have doubts and Manus will not let this opportunity go to waste. Constantine needs Vertin to grow the way she prefers and begins scheming of ways to deal with her. 
Back in the classroom, Sonetto hands Vertin the notes she missed. At this point we learn that Sonetto rarely comes and speaks to Vertin first. Sonetto asks how Vertin is feeling. Vertin says it doesn't hurt as much now, it hurt more when the tear gas burned her (She's sort of spaced out here).
Sonetto gets quiet. She admits she found the song beautiful. Vertin says she is happy to hear that, but she's more focused on the kids being locked up in the guardhouse. They were locked away for a week without food. Sonetto mentioned she tried to bring them food but she was turned away by an instructor. She offers to lend them her notes when they return, unaware Vertin already has another plan in the making.
She is planning their great escape. 
The new meeting place is the air-raid tunnel under the library. 
Matilda attends but says she couldn't find Mesmer Jr, so she came alone. Many students refuse to talk to The Ring after their imprisonment in the guardhouse but those who do show up are committed to the cause. They've seen the Foundation's true colors. Vertin shows off the map and escape routes she'd been working on and the group gets scheming.
Vertin also reveals she has a map of the neighborhood outside with many means of transportation they could use to escape. This map was also provided by a Manus Vindictae airdrop for arcanists who want to join their cause. Recently there were more airdrops with guides, rations, supplies, and articles exposing the Foundation. The Ring was quick enough to snag a pamphlet with his ability before the instructors got to them. Manus will pick them up if they make it out and make it to one of the designated areas. Vertin and the others want to thank Manus Vindictae once they escape.
After the meeting, Matilda calls out to Vertin while crying (she is 2 years younger than Sonetto and might be the youngest member of the class). Immediately concerned, Vertin checks up on her. Matilda can't be a part of the break-away plan. She chose to come to this school, unlike the others. Vertin assures her she won't force Matilda into anything. She does ask Matilda for one favor and that is to inform Mesmer Jr.  about the plan. She doesn't want to leave anyone behind.
Matilda thanks Vertin and promises to tell her. She then helps the students fight off the Critters who ambushed them in the tunnel. Matilda won’t be a part of the escape, but she continues to provide support. Later she gives Vertin a special set of earrings that the crew uses to communicate with each other during the break away event. 
We find out the reason Matilda couldn't find Mesmer Jr. earlier is because of Constantine. She reveals the truth of the Storm to Mesmer. Constantine also takes the map meant for Mesmer from her locker (they raided it prior). Mesmer panics because now she knows the truth. She doesn't want her friends to be reversed. Constantine promises she won't let that happen. Mesmer leaves her office in tears, thanking her.
Constantine is satisfied. They caught a Manus agent and shut down the Olitiaus post. And now the problem with Vertin is also solved. Madam Z wants to have more people ready to “rescue the lost lambs” on the day of their plan. However, Constantine has other ideas.
She will let the children see the Storm with their own eyes. Madam Z argues but Constantine is her boss. She wants to make an example out of them and use them as a lesson for Vertin. She wants Vertin to know the price of rebellion.
Constantine has been looking forward to her transformation since 1999. 
Madam Z is outraged and says she'll never agree to this plan. Constantine says it's because Madam Z doesn't understand politics. Madam Z says she doesn't. She's simply a scientist.
Throughout the story we see Madam Z being the compassionate voice out of the two, always putting the children first and trying to find rational ways to deal with things. Constantine is the opposite and focuses on winning the “game” at the expense of others. However, we see she’s used to winning.
On October 27th, the break-away plan begins. Vertin is the bellwether that leads the rebels. Part of her feels like something is off, as if she is playing against an invisible enemy but she is happy to see everything go so smoothly. Too smoothly. As they get closer to the exit, they begin to hear thunder. Once again, Vertin gets uneasy. Lilya confronts them in one of the the air-raid tunnels. To everyone’s surprise Sonetto appears,  (well everyone except Lilya who saw Sonetto trailing them), and offers to help Vertin and the others. Sonetto paralyzes Lilya with a spell, Stono Swift. Vertin is reeling with so many questions but she doesn’t have time to ask. She thanks Sonetto and says goodbye. Sonetto asks Vertin if she will have regrets. Once they leave, they will lose everything. There is no turning back.
Vertin says she won’t. They prepared for everything.
“Seems like you…won’t be needing my notebook anymore.”
The Ring activates the switch closing the door behind the crew. Vertin stands on one side, Sonetto on the other as it slowly comes down. Sonetto says one more thing before it shuts completely.
“It was a pleasure being your deskmate, Vertin.”
The children continue onward. They make it to the last door and open it together. Thunder roars overhead. It starts to rain.
“May the Freedom be with us!”
Vertin watches as clothes fall to the ground. 
The children are reversed. Vertin is the only rebel left.
Madam Z appears before her holding a black umbrella. “Do you want to be the Timekeeper?”
Constantine smiles to herself back in her office. “Checkmate.”
Other Important Information
The Foundation tries to revise history to put humanity on a pedestal and labels arcanists as unpredictable liabilities.
The Foundation is rewriting history as they “educate” the children. They twist details to put arcanists in a bad light, blaming their unpredictability and spontaneous behavior. They tell the kids that arcanists are born unstable and pin the blame of many historic low points on arcanists while propping humanity up on a pedestal. This can be seen in Chapter 3-1. I highly recommend looking back in the Atlas. The Foundation might also have a way of messing with their memories which we can see with Matilda in the same section. 
Gnosis IRL Definition:
Gnosis is the common Greek noun for knowledge. The term was used among various Hellenistic religions and philosophies in the Greco-Roman world. It is best known for its implication within Gnosticism, where it signifies a spiritual knowledge or insight into humanity's real nature as divine, leading to the deliverance of the divine spark within humanity from the constraints of earthly existence. (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gnosis)
I have no idea when Vertin’s abilities manifested.
I thought they appeared around the time of the break away event but I didn’t see it. We know Vertin can use arcanum later on. She must have awakened in the last 4 years or less if she is 16 when the prologue starts.
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empresscarina · 3 months
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Witches love coffee shopts
Short story
Goal: 1000 words
Date: 11/7/2022
Plot: In a magical world, a young witch goes in search of some good coffee.
In the magical kingdom of Slein, where dragons may work at cafés and engineers may write spellbooks, coffee shops are a dime a dozen.
Esmerelda McAlister waved goodbye to her last customer of the afternoon, a tall man with a tall hat and a long, flowy coat. He’d been looking for a remedy for a swollen knuckle, and the McAlister Mini- Clinic offered just the thing.
He’d left happy, Esmerelda was quite certain.
She dropped the forced smile – the customer service expression she’d grown quite used to wearing over the last year – and flipped the sign on the door. “Closed,” it would now announce to any passersby looking for their own quick remedies.
“Closed, closed, we’re closed!” she hummed to herself, fitting the words to a nonsensical, whimsical tune as she danced around the clinic putting out candles and locking up cabinets. It was a relief to be done with the clinic work for the day, for although Esmi quite loved it, she loved even more her weekly routine afterward.
Today was payday, and with the arcane credits that would’ve been deposited into her account that morning, she was on yet another mission to visit yet another coffee shop and try yet another cinnamon cappuccino.
Esmi locked the door to the clinic.
The sunlight danced gaily off the many-colored windows of Flagtow Street's buildings, dappling the cobblestones with red and blue and orange, and giving the hatters and fine ladies alike a sort of golden aura.
With a bounce in her step and a twinkle in her eyes, Esmi set off down Flagtow toward the grander parts of the city.
She was quite sure that "city" was a misnomer for the haphazard collection of shops, mansions, hovels, towers, medical institutions, and apothecaries, but someone at some point had said it was a city, so now of course everyone called it that.
Jansen's Joes passed her by on her left, across the street, its candled windows and live music creating a welcoming, relaxing atmosphere. Jansen's was a lovely place - Esmi had been there at least twice in her explorations of the city-not-city of Slein. Only a block or two later, Cornelia's Cappuccino's and Cupcakes appeared to her right, with pretty ivy and golden lettering over the doorframe. Cornelia's was closed at this hour - she was usually open in the mornings and evenings and closed during the midday hours.
Esmi turned left down Leaflet Avenue, toward a part of town she hadn't much explored.
"Hello!" she greeted a handsome stranger, "Do tell, where could I find a small coffee shop?"
"Why, there's one right back around the corner, miss," said the stranger, gesturing back the way Esmi had just come.
"Oh no," she replied, "Is there another down in this direction? I've already been to quite a number of coffee shops back that way."
"I'm afraid I can't stay," said the stranger, suddenly seeming to grow pale. He hurried away before Esmi could say another word.
"How strange," she thought. How odd that he should find her question almost... disconcerting.
Esmi brushed it off with only a little bit of annoyance and carried on down the lane. She passed by bookstores and apothecaries and two or three flower shops, each one with its own greeter harkening her to come see the store. She threw a pleasant smile to each and said she really must be on her way, hoping to come across the new coffee shop all on her own.
But the sun was sinking, and she realized it must now be long past the early afternoon when the McAlister clinic closed its doors.
Esmi was worried she might not find her way back in the dark, and she was no longer willing to spend time on her honestly egotistical exploration.
"Young madam, come see our flowers!" said a greeter a few steps ahead of her. The greeter was a young man with black hair pulled back in a short, thick braid, and a rather boyish face.
"I can't stop for flowers," she said, "but would you help me find a new coffee shop? I've been to all the ones back on Flagtow street and I am looking for somewhere new, perhaps down in that direction?" Esmi motioned toward the east, where the evening dark had already begun to eat up into the sky.
As oddly as with the stranger before, the boy's face dropped a bit - "Oh, that don't seem wise at this time of evening," he said cryptically.
Esmi huffed, and stubbornly continued down the street, not passing a second glance at the boy.
Now, perhaps she was being foolish - after all, if the locals seemed to think it was unwise to go down this way, perhaps she would be well advised to listen. But Esmi was stubborn more than anything, and her meager paycheck allowed only for necessities and her once-a-week coffee exploration - she would not have her treat taken away from her.
The darkness rose up quickly as she continued east, now on - what was it? - Nightfall Lane. A whiteish fog drifted into the air, bringing with it a slight chill and the smell of lavender and fresh laundry.
At long last, she found a little cafe she'd never been to before - The Little Spoon.
"What a delightful name!" thought Esmi, taking in the quaint brick walls and wooden signage, the wicker seats and glass tables arranged out front beside large pots of little flowers and spilling ivy plants. Torches were stuck into the plant-pots, surrounding the entrance to the Little Spoon with a homey golden glow, like a bubble of welcome in the calm, dark night.
"Hello!" greeted the young woman by the door, a tall, pointed hat upon her head and a collection of many brass rings on her fingers. "May I welcome you to the Little Spoon, m'lady?"
"Oh, please," Esmi replied, smiling at the quaintness and old familiarity of the greeting, "It really looks so lovely." The young woman's smiled widened, and Esmi saw it was a genuine smile - this woman liked her job it seemed. Or was just having a particularly good day. 
The woman led Esmi inside and sat her down at a table, complete with a little candlelamp and a book charm - those could read your energy and give you a book recommendation if you asked politely (but you must ask politely, Esmi remembered from school, for they were rather temperamental).
"Our server, Raphael, will be with you quite soon, m'lady," the greeter smiled, and Esmi noted the sharp-looking incisors. Artificial, perhaps, or magically enhanced. Or perhaps she wasn't quite human.
The moment passed, and the woman walked away, leaving Esmi to enjoy the atmosphere of the cafe alone for a moment.
Petunia will just love to hear about this place, she thought, half planning out the letter she'd write to her cousin that evening.
After all, she thought, as the server, Raphael, come up and took her order, complete with his own set of curious brass rings, this place reminded her very much of home, but in its own, unique sort of way.
Esmi sipped her warm cinnamon cappuccino, her own curious brass rings cold compared to the hot drink in her hands, and smiled.
After all, she thought, as the server, Raphael, came up and cleared away her empty cup, witches loved to explore little coffee shops. Result: 1260 words
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greywoodrpg · 6 months
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𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕔𝕠 𝕟𝕒𝕧𝕒𝕣𝕣𝕠
he was born forty-five years ago, is a witch and lives in acacia heights as a physician/alchemist, and is in aquelarre del cuervo coven. he looks an awful lot like roberto urbina.
“Life isn’t easy, no matter where you are. You’ll make choices you think are right, and then suffer for them.”
tw: cult mention, drugs, substance abuse 
For centuries the Navarro family name–in addition to a reputation as founding members of the infamous coven, Aquelarre del Cuervo–has been synonymous in occult circles with one unique discipline: Alchemy.  Attempted by many yet mastered by few, their specialized techniques are closely guarded secrets and have been passed down for generations through the Navarro line.  Though advancements in science have propelled human capabilities into the realm of what once might have been considered ‘magic’, there is still no better means by which to transmute or alter the very building blocks of matter or magic than via the talents of a Navarro Alchemist.  The secret to the Navarro family’s alchemical prodigiousness is the use of enhanced opiates, which serve as magical conductors; amplifying arcane energy far beyond what a single caster might otherwise command.  Patriarch Ramon Navarro realized this, and decided to position his family ahead of the accelerating curve; an adaptive strategy for a changing world.  Pivoting his arcane mercantile into a pharmaceutical company, Cuervo International, he pioneered the modern day fusion of magic and medicine, using alchemical techniques to develop groundbreaking and remarkably effective treatments for an array of mundane human maladies.  The endeavor’s success propelled the Navarro fortune into orbit. 
Marco Navarro was born in Mexico City; the only child of Ramon Navarro’s eldest son, José, and his human wife, Julia.  The two doted upon their son and his upbringing was undeniably privileged, though not without exposure to the realities of the world.  Renown socialites and philanthropists, Marco’s parents often included him in their humanitarian efforts; pouring resources into medical research charities and outreach.  It was through these experiences that Marco discovered his own passion for building a better world, and saw his best path to do so was not as a pharmaceutical executive like his father, but as a doctor.
In conjunction with his family’s arcane instruction, Marco received a world-class traditional education; eventually attending Harvard Medical School in Boston where he pursued internal medicine with a focus in hematology, later returning to Mexico to complete his residency and undertake a research fellowship at his family’s institution.  Enabled by his combined arcane and scientific training, Marco’s vision delved into uncharted territory.  Treading into the gray zone of what constitutes sanctioned practice, he turned his sights away from the alchemical standards of substances and chemicals used to treat illness and disease, and instead onto the potential for alchemy as a more direct vehicle for altering a patient’s physiological state of being: blood magic, in the most literal sense of the term.  Practicing such a taboo discipline has not come without personal cost.  Some on the coven’s high council, and within his own family, have spoken out in disapproval of Marco’s work citing its dangerous implications.  Others are more supportive, and see his refinement of such techniques as a the natural evolution of medicine.  Proponents within the coven further note the applications beyond human healthcare, suggesting possibilities such as superior synthetic blood for vampire consumption, or lunar shift blockers for lycanthropes; perhaps even cures for their conditions.  Detractors consider the value to other species a liability; one which might threaten the Navarro family’s proprietary techniques or the security of the coven at large.  Debate has been fierce, and Marco has been caught in the crossfire; at times pulled at the seams by dangerous, conflicting orders he is not at liberty to disobey.  Aquelarre del Cuervo is as much a cult as a coven, many say, and strict adherence to the council’s edicts is demanded of its members.    
Compelled by his coven’s council to wed the daughter of another wealthy and powerful family in a match chosen for political purposes, Marco spent his youth trapped in a decades long loveless marriage with someone who wanted very different things from life.  Although their union did yield one child–a daughter whom Marco adores and dotes upon endlessly–it was clear that duty and obedience were the only mutual sentiments shared between husband and wife.  Mounting stress both in his professional and personal life at times drove Marco to seek respite through abuse of alchemical opiates; a grim facet of the Navarro legacy.  This further exacerbated the already untenable state of his marriage, and Marco continued to spiral.  On Christmas Day, 2022 he suffered a very public overdose.  It was a family scandal, an international embarrassment for Cuervo International, and the excuse his wife had been long awaiting.  Divorce papers were served while he still lay in a hospital bed recovering.  Under growing pressure from his coven to abandon his research entirely, and with nowhere in Mexico City safe from his family’s judgement and influence, Marco decided he was overdue for a change of scenery.
Embarking on an extended sabbatical from his research fellowship with Cuervo International, Doctor Marco Navarro has relocated to the sleepy Colorado town of Greywood, intent upon re-centering himself and continuing his work in a less politically fraught environment…one where the supernatural is not so veiled in secrecy, nor his personal life so scrutinized.  He purchased an obscene luxury home just on the secluded outskirts of acacia heights in town with a view worth the price tag, where he lives with his familiar; a crow named Magdalena.  There is a separate wing of the house reserved for his daughter, when she can be convinced to come and stay for a while.  Marco is quickly learning that life is very different from what he had been accustomed to here in his new community.  With intentions to get back to basics, he has accepted a position at Greywood General Hospital as an Attending Physician.     
Most who meet Marco Navarro will realize rather promptly that he is a wickedly intelligent man, and he knows it.  If a conversation turns toward an area he’s knowledgeable about, he’ll be sure to let everyone else know it, too.  Though not exactly prone to boasting, it is clear that he’s passionate about his work.  Despite what some might characterize as arrogance in this regard, Marco is a deeply caring and empathetic person. He would help his worst enemy if they needed it, without a moment’s hesitation.  Charismatic by nature, he’s been called a ray of sunshine; quickly warming to even the most unlikely of people.  While he is seldom intentionally impolite, he does tend to be exceedingly blunt and exhibits a decidedly oblivious bourgeois outlook.  Some find it charming, others abrasive.  Compared to the decadence with which he was raised, he now lives a fairly private, if not entirely modest lifestyle; though no one would accuse Marco of cheapness or frugality.  Navarro coffers run deep, and Marco’s doctor’s salary is a pittance compared to his trust fund.  If he wants something, he buys it with the effortless nonchalance of someone who has never had to wonder whether or not there is enough in his bank account to cover the expense.  Even so, he’s a generous sort and prone to altruism and philanthropy.  His background and workaholic tendencies have been isolating in a sense; he is a man of many acquaintances, but few close friends, and since his divorce he considers himself “chronically single” (self-diagnosed).  Those who have become dear to him are doted upon and can expect unwavering loyalty.  
“what power did he attain when settling in greywood?”
None. 
penned by... chell
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the-institute-rpg · 1 year
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➤ MEET ROSAMUND: 21, MISTRESS, WITCH
Full Name: Rosamund Strenger Nickname(s): Ro Pronouns: She/Her Birthday: February 26, 2001 Age: 21 Status: Mistress Major: Mastery of Symbol Magic Species: Witch Special Powers: None Sexuality: Bisexual, strong female lean I am a: Switch I want a: Any Turn-Ons: Dirty talk, choking, power Turn-Offs: Bad hygiene, feet, scat
➤ BIOGRAPHY
TW: mentions of sexual assault and violence
She wasn’t born Rosamund Strenger, but then again, she couldn’t quite recall the name she was born with, as it was changed time and time again, and eventually became irrelevant and lost to time. She was sold as a child to collectors of magical objects, kept as an oddity and a pet. Her owners did not quite know much about witches and their powers, so they could not teach her how to fight or defend herself, all her arcane knowledge came from what she was taught at a young age by her mother, little shows of lights and fire not strong enough to hurt, but enough to amuse her owners. She had about five years of mild stability in her life until her owners got bored of her and sold her off for different purposes, and during her younger teen years she was passed around different owners to be used, hurt, and to be stared at, not as a person, but as an object of fascination until her beauty and powers got boring, and the cycle started again. She couldn’t recall a life before this, so she grew to assume it was normal.
About two years ago, during her standard rotation, she got sold to an incredibly wealthy vampire family who had a fascination of owning other species as slaves, had them working for them at events to put on shows, pass around food or serve drinks. During this time she met a boy by the name of Cole, another super, who immediately caught a liking to her. Cole got protective of the odd girl fairly quickly, trying to teach her a little more about the outside world and how to avoid getting hurt by the masters. Years went by, and just as she thought the cycle would continue, a woman happened to find them, who paid for their release. Cole’s mother, a woman named Billie, managed to track her son down after he was taken away from her decades ago, and bought off the boy and the girl (at his request). She took them both in, in a house full of other supers called revenants, Billie’s extended family. Cole was not a revenant, but an underworld nymph, and had no trouble adjusting to a life living along other undead, but it was harder for Ro. Billie was quick to notice that the girl had suffered through quite a lot, and was not allowed to explore the true nature of her species and powers. She tried to aid the girl with common human knowledge, books and philosophy and the general workings of the world, but she could not teach her how to be a witch, therefore offered her a chance to study at the Institute. Ro, with nothing better to do with her time, accepted the offer gracefully.
What she would never admit is that she feared greatly the idea of leaving behind the safety network Cole and Billie had built for her, people who she came to see as a brother and a mother, but she knew she had power just waiting for her to be unlocked, and this was a mission they could not help her with.
➤ PERSONALITY
✚ Driven, friendly, brave ▬ Fickle, cold, manipulative
➤ ESTABLISHED CONNECTIONS
None
➤ FACE CLAIM & OOC INFO
Rosamund's faceclaim is Amalia Holm. // Azul, 20+, She/Her, CLT
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