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snakebites-and-ink · 1 month
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Whumper-Turned-Caretaker CYOA 1
I'm giving this a try. It's my first time writing something interactive like this so please bear with me.
CW for the series
You linger at the top of the stairs, quietly watching the sleeping form of your basement’s unwilling inhabitant. As if just watching them will help you figure out what to do next.
You’ve had Whumpee for a while. You caught them for your own enjoyment and you’ve kept them locked up down here ever since. You treated them however you pleased, which usually meant them getting hurt. It’s taken its toll on them, but you didn’t really mind that. At least, not before now.
But you had a…an epiphany, maybe, a change of heart, a reformation, whatever you want to categorize it as. Point is, you don’t feel like you should be doing this any longer.
You take a moment to consider what you should do from here. Maybe just letting Whumpee go right away would be the technically right thing to do, but you really don’t want them running straight to the police. It would probably be better for both of you if you helped them recover first, right?
You can patch them up, meet the many needs they have that you’ve been…less than diligent about at best. Take care of them.
Then again, they’re probably behind on sleep. Waking them up to take care of them might actually be worse than leaving them as-is for the time being.
You sigh to yourself. Doing whatever seemed fun in the moment was so much easier than trying to figure out how to do what’s right.
Taglist:
@kabie-whump
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roselyn-writing · 22 days
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Finally, After a month of working on Adeleois/Rakan lore, I managed to wrote it 😁. Let’s get started now!
Name: Rakan (Mortal) Adeleois (Mantle/Divine name).
Name meaning: In Arabic, Rakan means ‘noble’
Age: 450 Y.O.
Date of birth: 13 July. (791, In Virginian time and year).
Hair colour: Black (formerly) Silver (currently)
Eyes colour: Light Brown (formerly) Silver (currently). (Silver with violet and blue hues when he uses his powers.)
Aesthetics/Colours: Silver, Grey, Night aesthetics, moon aesthetic, moonlight, Bohemian aesthetic. Warrior aesthetics, pagan. Etc.
Favourite colours: Black, Silver, Navy blue, White.
Likes: to help people, being honest, practicing his Kophesh sword. Spread peace and justice. Loves to admire the moon. (In its every phase). Likes to read, eating healthy, Lover of mountains, lover of nature, lover of caves.
Hates: liars, bigots (Hate them with his VERY heart), Thieves, murderers, abusers, racists, Racism, Wars, and etc.
Favourite food: Beef Barley soup with roasted veggies, Mushrooms salad, Porridge. Tea, coffee, hot beverages. Bread and cheese, chocolate muffin. Beef chops.
Least favourite food: Ice cream (any flavour).
Wardrobe/outfits:
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“I will defend the defenseless and protect the innocent till my last breath!” ——- Adeleois’s quote, The moon warrior.
🗡️The lore 🌕
CW: Gore and blood, Bigotry and etc.
In the glorious mountain Kythera of Virginia. An ancient place filled with power and wonder. Where the only worthy will be bestowed upon such power of divinity and wisdom.
There, on top of the mountain and beyond is fit place for living, There is a tribe called So’lar they worship and venerate the sun, They deem all other sources of light inferior.
They disrespect the people who worship the stars, the planets, the sky, but the most people who are tortured and disrespected by them; were the people who worship the moon. They are called the ‘Moon’aris’ and the Sun worshippers are called ‘Sun’aris’
The Sun’aris always call other people who worship and venerate other things ‘Lestsi’ which means: ‘Blasphemers’ or ‘Heretics’ or ‘unbelievers’
The Sun’aris took a lot of prisoners of the Moon’aris and tortured them until they abandoned their beliefs and converted to their religion, and worship the sun like them.
Rakan, was born in a place closer to the So’lar. But he found his way into the tribe because of the tribe scouts, They brought him there as a baby and decided to welcome him into the tribe.
They made sure to tell him of their ‘glorious’ religion when he grew up. And they did. They taught him everything they want. And they did the same to other children.
Rakan grew up into the So’lar tribe. He learned their ways and embraced them. He thought they are true and righteous until the day that changed his life forever.
Rakan, Who is 16 years old, He saw the scouts of the tribe brought a few people of the Moon’aris, They were two women and a man.
They were tortured brutally because they refused to abandon their beliefs. Rakan and his best friend: Andreas, they were traumatised by this.
They saw the tribe leader: Alexander, shoving his hand into the woman’s throat and pulled her vocal cords out along with other soft bloody tissues. She screamed loudly, in pain and horror; it was a macabre sight, the floor was painted in a crimson canvas of the innocent woman’s blood, she was tortured brutally, she gurgled loudly, trying to summon a cry of help and plea but she couldn’t, because her vocals cords were pulled out of her throat, Rakan changed forever. He doesn’t want to be a part of this tribe. He winced in pain at that sight and it was forever in his mind.
That sight was enough to haunt Rakan for the rest of his life, The woman was still alive when the leader tortured her like that.
Rakan and Andreas were best friends from their younger days, They ate together, played together and even studied together, They were known as ‘brothers in arms’ and they friendship was strong, one time, Andreas saved his friend Rakan from a stampede of the desert beasts. Their bond became much stronger ever since.
One day, Rakan was admiring the full moon in the night, Andreas, once again, warned him that he shouldn’t get caught while watching and admiring the moon, Rakan noted and left, after that, He heard a voice, it told Rakan he should climbed the mountain and he will see something he need. Rakan, begrudgingly agreed, He climbed the mountain with the man, After he and the man reached the mountain top.
Rakan felt something strange yet beautiful, He was admiring the full moon again. Suddenly, A bright and blinding light of the moon came down on Rakan, Bathing him in the moonlight, He felt his flesh wrought anew, reborn in the moonlight as a beacon; ready to fight for justice and the truth, it felt like eons then it dissipated, Rakan saw his reflection on the glassy rocks of the mountain, He noticed his face and everything about him changed, His looks, his body and everything thing, There are even tattoos and crescent moon mark on his forehead and body.
Fully adorned with armor made of moonlight and bestowed upon the powers of the moon. Rakan decided to use his newfound powers to protect the innocent, defend the defenseless and bring justice to the land of Kythera, He took his Kophesh sword that was made from moonlight and dashed like a moonlight meteorite to fight for freedom and justice.
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Rumors and words spread alike, about a new moon warrior. That came to rescue the other people who aren’t worshipping the sun and thus being oppressed by the Sun’aris, The Sun’Aris deeply loathed this new information and they decided to search for this warrior and kill him on sight.
The leader of the Sun’aris knew of Rakan disappearance but he didn’t care at all. He thought that he died or something. But he didn’t knew that Rakan became the next Moon Warrior that is protecting the oppressed people who aren’t worshipping the sun. He is protecting morning, noon and night. He didn’t tire while doing so.
The leader of the Sun’Aris: Alexander, didn’t believe his eyes or ears, when his scouts told him of a new aspect of the moon, His eyes widened, his mouth fell agape as he tried to process their words. He even asked them again.
“Is this true?” He inquired.
They all nodded, Their faces tell the answer. “Yes, It is.”
“Yeah, He is Rakan,” one of the scouts volunteerd.
In pure anger, He threw his pen and everything on his desk on the floor. He looked terrified and confused. He looked at his scouts but they didn’t answer him let alone reacted to his meltdown. They bowed their heads and excused themselves to leave.
Alexander vowed that he will kill this new moon warrior, and he will bathe in his blood to satisfy his hatred and anger.
It was from that moment, Alexander made Andreas hate his best friend: Rakan, He managed to poison Andreas’s hearts and made him feel ‘abandoned’ and ‘betrayed’ by his so-called best friend: Rakan.
Andreas began to hate Rakan, He began to train more and more to prove himself the best warrior in mounth Kythera, He even became the aspect of the sun himself: Sunayois
Rakan or preferred to be called Adeleois, He is protecting the people of Moon’ari, Satarins and other people who worship other things, This made Alexander even more angrier and hateful.
Adeleois was excellently deluding the Sun’aris attacks and traps, He even killed them when they refused to leave him alone, bloods on his hands, his armor and on his Kophesh, So his hands are pretty much tied. He was forced to kill, he disliked killing,
The Sun’aris vowed to find Adeleois and kill him, but they couldn’t defeat him if they found him, He was far too powerful for them. He is strategic, calm, and patient unlike Sun’aris, they were brash, aggressive and aren’t strategic at all.
Adeleois is threatened with death and torture, but he didn’t care at all, his devotion was set aflame when he saw there are people who needed him, people who would pray for a saviour and Adeleois answered their prayers, His life isn’t important when he saw the numbers of people being tortured and killed for what they believe in, and —Lady Selene, The beautiful and benevolent woman who is currently the Queen of the Moon’aris. She needed him, They needed him.
It had been years of war between the Sun’aris and Adeleois, the latter managed to unite the Moon’aris, the sky worshippers, Thee satarins, and the planets worshippers to join him and aid him against those monsters, who will oppress anyone that does not convert to their religion.
All are united against the Sun’aris, The battle was fierce, bloody, merciless for the Sun’aris and yet they couldn’t win at all, because, they weren’t strong and united enough to win against Adeleois and his allies, Adeleois announced that the previous Adeleois was Andreas’s father, He was shocked when he knew that Alexander killed his father. Andreas turned on Alexander, Thus, Rakan and Andreas are friends again.
In the end, Adeleois and his allies won, Adeleois banished Alexander from Mount Kythera, The latter went to another place where he can live with his beliefs and etc, he lived alone and died alone.
Thus, All races and other people who have different religions lived together and in peace, giving way to a new era of peace and harmony and prosperity among all other people and religions.
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jaal-ama-daravv · 29 days
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Omnissiah Forgive Me - Chapter 3 - WIP
An evocation came flooding back to Pasqal in an instant. A fleeting moment on the battlefield just a few moons ago. 'Enemies were closing in, firing upon Pasqal and Kassard as they crouched behind a large concrete barrier. Kassard tried to be the daring commissar she is, and Pasqal was having none of it. As Kassard began to shuffle to take aim at their enemies, Pasqal’s mechadendrite launched towards her and gripped on to her thick leather collared garment and aggressively dragged her back down. She was now engulfed in his stance. His blood pressure rose greatly. The mechadendrite released its grip and Pasqal threw his arm across her chest - only death would release it - and pulled her into him as he peaked the barrier and dispatched the remainder of their enemies. The pair locked eyes and exchanged several moments of long, dragged out breaths as the adrenaline wore off.'  Kassard laid neatly tucked in the space between Pasqal’s forearm and bicep - the heat radiated off his metal chest, the gears whirred - she trembled whilst in his embrace and whispered, “You didn’t have to do that…” “I had no choice, Lord Captain.” His voice shook, and his vox hissed.  It was in that moment that Pasqal wondered if he should be grateful, or should curse the fact that despite his servitude to the Omnissiah, his heart was no longer sheltered inside his metal plated chest - it now took form in the shape of the Lord Captain. [x]
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propaganda under the cut!
which by the way I super recommend! it's so so well done that even in action scenes I know what's happening *as* it's happening PLUS it's all the great rebel found family starship thieves bits as Firefly but cyberpunk and gay instead
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cynilox · 1 year
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𝖠𝖭𝖣𝖱𝖤𝖶 𝖦𝖮𝖠𝖳𝖥𝖨𝖤𝖫𝖣
━ GQ Men Of The Year Awards (November 16, 2022)
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elfboyeros · 4 months
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Hallows Academy
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Hallows Academy Masterlist @karaboutmyart @jj-pines @lereneePlease Enjoy the first chapter of Hallows I have worked so hard on this chapter and I will continue to work just as hard if not harder on this series, just like with Bridgehid. Any questions comments or concerns you know where to leave them all 💚 - Cupid🍏
“Solostica, previously an English territory, is now a European Microstate, and 7th smallest microstate. This little island sits in the Celtic Sea portion of the Atlantic Ocean marked by beautiful large mountains and large evergreen trees. Solostica is most famous for its prestigious secondary academy, Hallows Academy. Once just a schoolhouse for the youth of the atoll, Hallows Academy has become the top school to send teenagers from all countries. Now the academy has gained the reputation of being a boarding school to send wayward souls from across the world, its top-tier educational staff and courses speak volumes to the performance of its past and current students. With mixed elements of all types of schooling from around the world Hallows Academy is a wonderful place to send your teenage children not only to assess their behavior, but a level up on their education.”
The video continued to play on the cherry-colored smartphone, sitting on the train tray table as a young blonde girl with tan sat in a train seat staring out the window and watching the scenery passing by. She isn’t really listening to the recording anymore; she only stares out the window. Hearing bits and pieces of the climate, the magic energy, and the community before turning the video off and sighing.
“Like that magic school on that island in the North Sea that Bellamy told me about,” the girl sighed, closing the video on her phone, “Just for horrible teenagers.”
The young girl had an image of her new school painted in her head that was nothing like her little video. She expected a ruined building with dilapidated Gothic Architecture where the students fist-fighting each other—very much not a place the adolescent wanted to be, yet she had to be.
She adjusted her earbuds as they sat in her ears, and she began to play her music before getting a text, she checked it, sent by someone labeled in her contacts as Dad 👨‍👧.
Amora, Sweetheart, I’m sorry, I had no idea she was sending you to any school let alone a school in Europe!
Amora sighed, her dark yellow-green eyes scanning, tapping out a message to her father: It’s fine, Daddy, I’m over getting angry about it. I’m just gonna have to live with it.
Her father does not respond, but he is a busy man, so she doesn’t expect him to respond. She then received a text from someone labeled simple with just a windchime emoji.
🎐: You there yet?
Amora looked out the window seeing the outside scenery change slightly, before responding: Not yet I think I’m close though.
There is a minute pause after she sends her message before she sends another one, How is Edgar?
🎐: I’m pretty sure he’s got kitty depression.
The blonde teen then receives a picture of a Maine Coon cat with dark black fur lying atop a bathroom counter.
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🎐: He’s made himself at home, nonetheless.
Amora was then sitting another picture, of a hairless cat in a nice little sweater standing on top of a glass coffee table, its head tilted to the side.
“Solostica, once an English territory, is now a small European nation, and the 7th smallest microstate. This tiny island sits in the Celtic Sea. It is covered by beautiful mountains and large evergreen trees. Solostica is most famous for its prestigious secondary school, Hallows Academy.  It was at one time just a school for the children of the island, now Hallows Academy is the top school to send the troubled youth of all nations. The academy has gained a sterling reputation, with its top tier education and staff. The alumni have gone on to lead successful lives, which speaks volumes. With a variety of teaching methods from around the globe, this academy is a perfect place to send your teenagers to not only assess and improve their behaviors but also to elevate their education.”
The video was playing on a cherry-colored smartphone that was sitting on a table inside a train.
A tan girl with long blonde hair sat in front of the aforementioned phone, but she wasn’t listening to it. Instead, she stared out the window and watched the world go by. She sighed and closed the video.
“It sounds kinda like that magic school in the North Sea that Bellamy told me about. ….But for messed up teens.” she muttered.
The girl’s impression of the school didn’t quite match that little video. She sort of expected some sort of dilapidated gothic structure, where students beat each other up. Not the sort of place she’d want to be, but one she would have to be nonetheless.
She adjusted her earbuds as they sat in her ears, and she began to play her music before getting a text, she checked it, sent by someone labeled in her contacts as Dad👨‍👧.
Amora, sweetheart, I’m sorry. I had no idea she was sending you to any school let alone a school in Europe!
Amora sighed, her dark yellow-green eyes scanning, tapping out a message to her father: It’s fine, Daddy, I’m over getting angry about it. I’m just gonna have to live with it.
Her father did not respond, but he was a busy man, so she didn’t expect him to respond. Soon after she got a text from someone labeled with a wind chime emoji. 
🎐: You there yet?
Amora looked outside the window to see where she was before responding: Not yet, I think I’m close though.
There is a minute pause after she sends her message before she sends another one.
How is Edgar?
🎐: I’m pretty sure he’s got kitty depression.
The blonde teen then received a picture of a Maine Coon cat with dark black fur lying atop a bathroom counter.
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🎐: He’s made himself at home, nonetheless.
Amora was then sitting another picture, of a hairless cat in a nice little sweater standing on top of a glass coffee table, its head tilted to the side.
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🎐: J. Austen is all confused with him here.
Amora smiled down at the picture of the two cats, while also thanking the Gods and Goddess above that Bellamy was kind enough to take her cat before she left Washington, so her cat son wouldn’t be forced to live with her mother and stepfather.
Dad said he would come and get Edgar when he gets a chance to get off and fly to Washington.
🎐: Don’t worry about it too much, A. No matter when your dad gets here Edgar is safe with me and momma Lagoon. 
Thanks, Bell
🎐: 🫡 No problem, I’ll talk to you soon I gotta get ready for school.
Amora huffed. She stared out the window again but this time she saw a huge building in the distance. She couldn’t make out any of the architecture, but considering the size she assumed it was the academy.
The train stopped at a little train station, which allowed an attendant to start unloading the baggage. 
Amora put away her phone before grabbing her cherry red suitcase and large travel bag.
She entered the station and made her way to the ticket office. A middle-aged woman sat behind the window filing her nails.
“Excuse me?” Amora asked, “Can you tell me how to get to Hallows Academy...” 
The woman didn’t move at her request, “Please?”
The woman just stared at her for a moment before rolling her eyes and pointing to the exit with her nail file. “There are normally cabbies outside,” she finally answered.
Amora was taken aback by the older woman’s voice. What was a woman from Jersey doing all the way out here?
Despite her confusion, she decided to listen to that woman’s advice. She exited the station and glanced around for the cabs.
She finally spots one, but a strange man was standing next to it. He was obviously the driver based on his attire, but he was definitely an odd one.
The man was abnormally tall and definitely inhuman.
“Can you take me to Hallows Academy, please?” Amora asked him.
The driver didn’t speak, instead, he tipped his hat and opened the boot of the car for her to place her things inside.
Afterward, he opened the backseat door to let her in before he got in the driver’s seat and began the drive to the academy.
They passed by isles and isles of tall trees down a long dirt path. Some young people walked down that same unfinished road.
The pair finally arrived at the school.
It was gothic like Amora assumed, but not dilapidated.
It sort of resembled Princeton University, but also the University of Pennsylvania.
The brown, black, and gray building had stained glass windows and several large rotundas.
Amora sighed once the cab stopped in the circular driveway at the entrance. 
The students wandered about socializing and such. They didn’t look anything like Amora had imagined. There were even Fae and other non-humans amongst them.
While she was distracted by the scene in front of her the cab driver retrieved her things from the trunk of his cab. 
Amora attempted to pay for her ride, yet all he did was tip his hat and get back in his cab. 
“This place is odd,” Amora sighed.
She glanced around, taking in all of the sights before setting her gaze back to the school’s entrance.
There she saw a student with brown and dusty pink skin, dressed in a brown pleated skirt, a light orange button-up shirt under a cream sweater vest, pale tights, small leg warmers that resembled the vest, and brown clogs.
They looked kind of like a cookie…
The student smiled widely when their orange eyes locked with Amora’s greenish ones. They approached her gleefully.
“You must be the American transfer student!” they remarked.
Amora nodded hesitantly.
“I could tell. Most American students look super confused when they get here! It’s actually really funny! Like haven’t you seen a boarding school before?”
“Eh?” Amora asked in confusion. Jesus, they spoke super fast!
“Sorry, sorry. I’m Euphrasie Selke! Your tour guide for today!,” they informed her,”I also live in the dorms. …What’s your name?”
“Amora…  Amora Seawright.” Amora replied.
“Pronouns?”
“Uh… She/Her.”
Euphrasie nodded, “Mine are They/Them. Let’s get your things to your dorm and then I’ll take you around the school!”
Amora nodded before she followed Euphrasie as they led her down a path on the left side of the main school building.
“All the freshmen are going to orientation in the gym right now so it will be easier to get to the dorms.” they explained while looking at Amora over their shoulder.
“Uhm… shouldn’t I go to that?”
“Nah,” Euphrasie replied, “I mean you are a senior, you know? Besides, school is school no matter where you are.” 
“I guess. But this place is…” Amora paused. Should she really speak her mind right now? Euphrasie seemed friendly, but they are attending a school for “troubled teens”, they might kill Amora if she isn’t careful.
“This place is what?” Euphrasie asked as they turned around to face her, which meant they were now walking backward.
They tilted their head to the side for a moment before their mouth formed an o shape. “Oh! You’re here because you’re ‘one of the bad ones’, aren’t you?”
Amora nodded sheepishly.
Euphrasie sighed. “A mom back in the 90s sent her delinquent son here. Once he arrived he started beating people up, including a group of seniors. So of course.. they retaliated. By beating the hell out of him.” 
They groaned and rolled their eyes, “Okay so some students, like you, get sent here because they have ‘issues’. But that doesn’t mean that this is a school where we beat each other up at 8:00 every morning. That sounds more like your American school, if I’m not mistaken.”
Amora only stared back at them; her eyes wide. If Euphrasie was right then Amora was dead wrong about the entire school.
“You don’t have to believe me, Amora, but I would never lie. Now here are the dorms!”
Euphrasie motioned to the lovely gothic building to the side of them. It was like a beautiful work of art with its columns, pillars, dark stones, and large glass windows. 
Amora followed her guide inside.
The common area was rather nice, full of tables and brown couches. A few students were hanging out.
There are three halls,” Euphrasie remarked, once the two of them were greeted with a hall then a large staircase, “Hall Magnus, Hall Romanov, and Hall Osmanthus. You’ll be in Hall Osmanthus here on the first floor.”
Amora nodded, following them down Hall Osmanthus. The hall had wainscoted walls, rosemary green paint with little decorative white sweet osmanthus flowers, and dark wood floors.
“Room 345… 345…345, here!”  Euphrasie muttered, “Just sit your stuff inside, and we continue your tour.” 
“Thanks,” Amora muttered.
The room was a normal size, not too big yet not too small, large enough for two people to live comfortably. The room itself had cream-colored walls, with the same wood floor as the hallway. 
Amora sat her suitcase and bag near one of the two beds in the room, specifically the one farthest from the door, before returning to Euphrasie in the hallway.
“So, what part of America are you from?” Euphrasie asked as the two of them walked side by side down the hallway. 
“Washington State.”
“Is that where the capital is?” Euphrasie asked.
“No, Washington D.C. is in Maryland, which is on the east coast, Washington state is on the west coast, it’s the second state above California.”
“Is there anything fun to do where you are from?” they pondered.
“Eh, not really? At least not in my hometown. There’s a few bookshops, cafes, and a town museum, but that’s about it. But in Seattle there’s the Space Needle and the Museum of Pop Culture. That museum is pretty cool!” 
“What is the Space Needle?” Euphrasie looked over at Amora with stars in their eyes.
Amora pulled out her phone and pulled up a picture of the tower back in her home state, “It’s an observation tower, built in the 60s,” Amora explained, “you can look over all of Seattle, it’s really beautiful.”
“It looks like a spaceship!” Euphrasie gasped. 
“My dad took me and my best friend there before he moved to D.C., but that was a long time ago.” the American girl added.
“…Oh! I need to let Bellamy know I made it!” 
The blonde teen immediately pulled her phone away from Euphrasie’s view, typing away to send a message to her best friend. 
Due to her focus on her phone, she failed to notice the people in front of her. 
She bumped right into a girl around her age, who instantly huffed when Amora’s face hit her chest.
“I-I’m sorry,” Amora muttered, “I should have been paying attention…”
She honestly expected the girl to be scowling at her, or even to curse at her for her clumsiness. But instead, this girl, with brown hair and vibrant green tips looked at her with a shine in her moss-colored eyes, a small smirk on her peach-colored lips, and the slightest tint of blush on her white skin. 
“Hey Loki!” Euphrasie said cheerfully, “Lance, Luther.” 
“Hey, Euphrasie,” a deep masculine voice remarked.
“Hi, Phrasie,” a softer, shyer, voice commented.
Amora looked past the girl to see the two boys behind her. The boys were obviously related to her, if their chestnut hair, mossy eyes, and eggshell-colored skin were anything to go by.
One of them wore glasses and had his hand wrapped in bandages, the other was in an oversized honeydew-colored shirt. The honeydew boy seemed rather shy.
Both boys carrying a lot of boxes marked Loki’s. 
“It’s all right, lovely,” the schoolgirl replied, putting her finger under Amora’s chin, and moving her gaze from the boys back to her, “Truthfully, you are such a pretty thing to run into.”
Her voice was silky and smooth, her British accent made her seem posher than her grunge clothes would lead you to believe.
“I’m Loki,” she pronounced as her face got closer to Amora’s.
Amora’s face instantly became flushed, “You are too close,” she stammered out.
Loki smiled, immediately pulling herself back from Amora, “Sorry, lovely.” 
Despite her apology, Loki held an intense gaze. A smirk painted itself on her lips, “Are you the new one?”
“The new one?” Amora asked in confusion.
“We don’t get a lot of seniors transferring. Usually, it’s Freshmen.” Euphrasie commented, “You’ve been the talk of the whole island since the beginning of August.” 
“What made you come all the way here?” Loki chuckled.
Amora blushed a hot red.
“Oh ho oh, must have been something scandalous to have become so beet red,” Loki cackled, with a large smirk on her face, “I can’t wait to find out what all you’ve done!”
“Oi, Loki! Your shit is heavy, flirt with the girl later!” 
Loki clicked her tongue at her brother’s statement.
“Fine whatever, Luther,” Loki muttered, before walking away from Amora and Euphrasie, “I’ll see you later, lovely!”
The nickname made a shiver run up the American girl's spine.
“C-can we leave?” Amora asked, face still flushed as she stood in the middle of the hallway.
“If you are asking if you can leave campus, sorry, no can do, if you mean the dorms, yeah!” Euphrasie remarked, putting a hand on her shoulder.
“Anything to get me away from her.”
“Yeah, Loki is an acquired taste.”
Acquired taste?! More like unbelievably creepy! Hopefully whatever being is above will have some mercy and allow Loki and Amora very little interaction in the future. 
Regardless of Amora’s feelings about her current situation, Euphrasie took her around the school's campus. 
It was full of greenery, English flowers, and little critters. 
The Academy had large beautiful green fields. Euphrasie explained that those fields were for football, or soccer as Amora would call it.
Hallows Academy had such gorgeous architecture and interior design. Whoever designed the campus had a clear love of Romanticism and Gothic aesthetics. That much was clear from all the dark colors, beautiful paintings, and nicknacks.
While the pair were on their way back to the dorms, they heard static coming from the intercom. The static filled the dark hallway which made Amora and Euphrasie jump.
“Amora Seawright to Mr. Densmore's office.”
“Where is that again?” Amora asked.
“Come on I’ll show you,” Euphrasie chuckled. 
On the way to the office, Amora’s thoughts started to spiral. Why’d he want to see her on her first day? Had she done something wrong? Did something happen and she needed to go back to America?  Did her dad manage to get her out of the school? Why? Why? Why?
After she was shown the office, Amora stood in a room that sort of resembled a waiting room. There was no desk, but there were some interesting paintings. Most of the decorations had astrological references. It was an incredibly lovely room, in shades of blues, browns, khaki, and navy.
There was a standing shelf in one of the corners of the room that caught Amora’s attention.
It was full of photos and a large map of a constellation.
The photos were of a couple, a light-skinned man with short black hair and a dark-skinned man with dreadlocks, in various places.
That couple seemed to be very in love, like how Amora’s parents used to be.
Amora looked to the corner near the shelf, “A double bass?” she muttered to herself. 
The large stringed instrument sat caked in dust, it obviously hadn’t been played for quite some time, as it just sat in the corner. 
Amora attempted to reach out to touch it, only to jump once a door closed heavily somewhere behind her.
“Do you play?” a voice said.
The voice was deep and incredibly masculine, yet so unbelievably soft and almost angelic.
Amora turned around slowly; her face flushed with embarrassment as she smiled awkwardly at the man in front of her. 
It was the same dark-skinned man from the photos, but he was significantly older, much thinner, and more tired. 
He ditched the locks for an Afro. He wore light brown suit pants, a tweed khaki vest, and a cream long-sleeved undershirt.
There was a medium-gray square of fabric poking out of his vest’s breast pocket, it looked so out of place given the color of the rest of his outfit. 
His eyes were rather piercing, those mignonette green eyes stared down at her as he smiled.
“Do you play?” he asked again.
“Huh? Oh! No, no,” Amora replied, putting her hands up to defend herself, “I was just admiring it… I didn’t touch it!”
The older man chuckled. 
“Come.” he replied, motioning her to follow him as he entered his office, a room much like the one before, just with more bookshelves and fewer little trinkets. 
“Sir, why—”
“Greyson,” he interrupted, sitting down at his desk. 
“Mr. Greyson… Sir… Uhm… Why did you call me in here?” Amora asked.
Greyson opened a file in front of him. “You have had no demerits in your entire educational career,” he began, “Your grades are honestly rather impressive. You took honor classes in English, History, and Mathematics. You were a part of a reading program for 3 years. It must have been so hard to tell those kiddies you were leaving.”
Why the hell did he seem so menacing all of a sudden? 
He looked at her with an undefinable gaze as he looked at her over the folder in his hands, “Yet you randomly stabbed a boy during your summer break and had an ‘emotional breakdown’ that caused a ‘personality change’. That’s why you are here.”
“Emotional breakdown?” Amora repeated.
“Okay, so when we consider outside enrollment, we give out a ‘Get to know a future student’ survey to be filled out. We also request transcripts and other documents.” Greyson explained before pulling out the packet from her file.
“This is yours.”
The packet is like the middle school “Get to know me” papers a teacher would hand out on the first day of school.
“I’ve never seen this before,” Amora stated.
“That explains why it is mostly blank,” Greyson commented.
There was a moment of silence as Amora flipped through the pages of the packet. Her mother had filled it out without even telling her a thing. Amora felt truly shocked and hurt.
“It is clear you were forced to be here. I could rescind your transfer and you would be allowed to return home.” Greyson informed her as he began to type away at his computer.
Go… home? Going home would mean returning to Washington, where her mother and stepfather were. Her mother would be furious if she returned.
“No!”
“No? But—”
“I just got here! If I go back now, I’ll never hear the end of it!” Amora exclaimed loudly, holding the packet close to her chest, “Even if you explained everything, including why you rescinded my enrollment, it would still be my fault! And that’s much worse than being here for my senior year!”
“Besides,” she sobbed, hot tears rolling down her cheeks as she thought of going back home to face her mother, “Home isn’t Washington anymore. …Even if Bellamy is there.”
“Amora—“ Greyson said to her so kindly in a way that reminded her of her father.
“I’ll do whatever I need to stay here, just let me graduate! I’ll fill out the packet myself, I’ll take extra classes, I’ll pay my tuition, just tell me where I can get a job, I’ll—”
“None of that is necessary, Amora.” Greyson stated firmly.
It caused her to stop her rambling, just to hear what he’d say next.
“If you want to stay, you can stay.”
“Th-Thank you,” Amora huffed, before wiping her tears with the sleeve of her sweater.
Greyson opened up one of his desk drawers to get another packet for her.
He handed it over, “If you may fill this out, if you’d like to.” 
She nodded.
“Oh, and if for some reason you have any issues or want to leave the school, you can come to me directly. My door is always open.” Greyson reassured her.
“Thank you, sir,” Amora replied.
He chuckled at how formal she was as she left his office.
Euphrasie was waiting for Amora out in the hall, ready to take her back to her dorm. On the way back; the two talked about many different subjects that had nothing to do with the Academy. 
Once the teens made it back to the dorms, Amora assured Euphrasie that she could find her way back to her own room. 
Euphrasie made sure to exchange numbers with her before the split up.
The blonde girl muttered the number 345 as she walked down the hallway before finding her room. 
She opened the door to find the girl she had met before with those vibrant green tips, Loki, standing on the bed in front of the door, hanging up a poster. 
“You!” Amora gasped, “God, no!”
“I knew it!” Loki exclaimed, hopping off the bed she had seemingly claimed.
“I am not okay with this!” Amora immediately said. 
“Why?” Loki questioned, a frown appearing on her face, “…What did Euphrasie say about me?”
“They said that you are an acquired taste, and I do not wish to acquire the taste of you!” Amora answered as she moved her luggage.
Loki leaned against her bedpost and laughed, while Amora began to go through her things. “Lovely. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, but I believe we’re stuck with each other.”
She sounded sincere, and if she didn’t have such a silky smooth voice Amora might have been angry enough to go back to Greyson to request a new roommate.
“Look, lovely. We got off to a weird start. I was too forward earlier. I’m sorry.” Loki said sincerely.
Amora turned around to look at her in shock. Loki didn’t seem like the sort to concede so easily.
“Can we start over?”
Amora just blinked as Loki stuck out her hand.
“Well, can I start over? Since you didn’t introduce yourself,” the British girl mumbled.
Amora took Loki’s hand and shook it, “I’m Amora… the new one,” the American girl introduced herself using a call back to what Loki had said when they first met.
Loki blushed slightly as she shook Amora’s hand back, “I’m Loki, I am of acquired taste.”
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themysticmagick · 1 year
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The next chapter of my book is now available for download... 
The Rivens Manor In this chapter you will get a sense of where the Rivens family lives and an insight inside their lives. The Rivens Manor will be a main set for the series, The Adventures of a Young Witch.
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I hate it when shows and games have two characters interact and be buddies but they don't even introduce themselves. Like a camera pan to a name tag will suffice I promise please just exchange names. The audience may know their names, but the characters don't.
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elinsreadingcorner · 10 months
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Currently Reading: Chapter IV of 'Villette' by Charlotte Brontë
To be honest, I have no clue what Villette is about, and I don’t want to Google it. I like the mystery. What will happen? What is the plot? What characters are important? It makes it more fun! I’m enjoying it so far. I’ve always loved classics! Happy Reading ❤
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dearestaeneas · 2 years
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Calliope
No one knows when the book opened. All that is known, all that will ever be known, is that it did.
We traversed its pages, explored its pop-ups, fought against its paper-thin monsters, kissed its two-dimensional Princesses. We acted. We were real, we were fake, we were neither, we were both.
I remember when she broke off. She wasn’t supposed to. I suppose I wasn’t supposed to follow her, either. Not that I did physically, mind you. But I know my mind was not meant to wander. I was not supposed to hope.
This is what I heard:
The Huntress did not have a name. The party she traveled with did not mind, for they were similarly lacking. In her heart, the Huntress named herself Calliope, and held to the 8 letters as if they were the ink in her veins that kept her alive.
Calliope dutifully fulfilled her role, even smiled at night as the party’s Bard sang around the painted fire, but always, when the fire became nothing more than embers, she’d stare into the night sky and wish and wish and wish.
The Healer was the first to raise suspicions about Calliope, although he of course did not call her that. These suspicions were echoed by the Bard, and the Mage. The Huntress, they whispered, was up to something. Perhaps her plan was to go rogue, to cut their throats and return to the King and sob after the loss of her friends. Grief can pay handsomely.
Imagine their surprise when the sun rose and the Huntress was gone. In her wake lay a note, stuck fast to a thick oak’s trunk with her smallest knife. ‘I’m sorry,’ was all it said.
Calliope, for she now truly was, disappeared into the woods. Her unbound hair streamed behind her as she ran, the knives strapped to her hips clunking awkwardly and joyfully against wind. She ran until her lungs burned most excellently, and collapsed on her back, staring into the canopy of leaves above her head. She allowed herself a breathless giggle at the thought of her compatriots realizing she’d stolen nothing from them, despite having every right to do so. They would have, had they been her.
But they were not.
Calliope sang as she wandered the woods, her voice stronger than ever. She hummed and whistled and belted as she made her way to the City. She’d find work. She’d find a Princess. Such thoughts bubbled up in her brain with alarming speed, urging her feet ever forward. It didn’t matter what she’d find, it was going to be found regardless.
She worked in book shops and bakeries, for Warlocks and Seamstresses, rescued Princesses and Princes, fought Ogres and Hydras. With time, she’d forgotten she’d ever been nameless at all.
Calliope. Calliope was a hero.
When she’d heard the Barman mention the ship, her ears perked up. Now that was an adventure she’d never had before. Calliope, for all her living, had never seen the Ocean. She’d forgotten all pretense of eavesdropping and devoured the Man’s words. Pirates, he’d said, were docked and looking for Crewmates. Brave Souls, they claimed to need.
Calliope could already hear the water rushing in her ears as he continued to speak. She found them the next morning, her hand outstretched and prepared for anything.
They were taken with her immediately. They sang with her, taught her to hunt for the Whales and Narwhals, some welcomed her into their beds.
Around the world they sailed, singing and fighting and hunting and stealing. Calliope’s body burned most excellently every night, her muscles aching pleasantly.
When the ship once again found itself docked, Calliope gratefully stepped on solid land, her legs wobbling like a colt’s. One of the Crewmen caught her, offering a supportive arm for just a bit too long.
She was the last to board the ship when it was once again time to set out. This was not the result of any kind of longing for land, but rather the opposite: Calliope wanted to savor the Sea. When she finally set foot on the Deck, a speck appeared in the distance. The Crew turned in unison to face it, for just a moment, before working with a speed Calliope had never seen before. She went from Person to Person, filled to the brim with questions, before the Captain finally smiled. Memories of the warm bed Calliope shared with her filled her mind despite the sudden chill in the air. As she looked around, she began to notice the blue tint that overcame first the Crew, and then the supplies, working its way with precision over everything. Frost kissed every Man, Woman, Neither, Both, barrel, rope, crate, plank. Calliope could not see it, but she knew the Barnacles on the Hull of the ship were also held in that loving embrace. Everything was.
Perhaps she was afraid. Perhaps she saw that the Gangplank was freed from the dock, and ran toward it before realizing it was too late. Perhaps she cried as the ship’s wood crunched most excellently as it rocked through the Sea, her fellow Crewmates becoming stiffer and stiffer. Perhaps she flung herself into the arms of the Captain, those very tears crystallizing on her cheeks as she looked over the Woman’s shoulder to see the New Ship coming closer and closer.
But I do not think this is what happened.
I think she watched her home freeze with the utmost wonder. I think she saw her breath stream from her mouth and nostrils and giggled at the sight of it. I think she delighted in the crunch of ice beneath her boots. I think she stood with her Crew, becoming stiffer and stiffer, as their ship sailed further and further, and watched with excitement as the New Ship came closer and closer.
I hope she found what she was looking for. Or, if I were to truly be honest, my greatest sin is not that I hope she found what she was looking for, but that she continues the battle of finding it.
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sprnkleofsorrow · 1 year
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working on a writing challenge for a character I'm already in love with. . .this isn't going to end well for me is it??
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sfsucw · 1 year
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The deadline for the Perkoff Prize has been extended until April 2. The Perkoff Prize is a tri-genre contest that awards $1000 and publication each to writers of the best story, set of poems, and essay that engage in evocative ways with health and medicine as judged by the editors. NEW DEADLINE: April 2. All submissions must engage with health and medicine in some way.All submissions must be previously unpublished.Poetry: up to 10 pages of poetry.Fiction and Nonfiction: up to 8500 words, double-spaced. More information: https://missourireview.com/contests/perkoff-prize/.
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sparrow-web · 1 year
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mPaka Mysteries by Sparrow
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mzannthropy · 1 year
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Sometimes I want to seek out some heroine x villain content, but many of the usual ships just don't appeal to me. Or I'm not that bothered. Or I actually prefer her with the good guy anyway (Mina x Jonathan of Dracula, for example). I'm normally happy with canon, honestly. Maybe hero x heroine and villain x villainess is more of my thing. Somewhere where they all end up happy. (Like the villains get redeemed or they go elsewhere where they can be their happy villainous selves.) I sound so cheesy lol.
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carrotex-cat · 1 year
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[ Sacrifice ]
"Why did I fucking agree to this shit?" Rachel thought to herself while she waded past the thickly frosted pine leaves of her country's forest in regretful trepidation. The singular thing generating sound was her timid footsteps on the twig-laden ground.
crunch
crunch
snap
"the hell was that?"
"It was probably just some damn animal, calm down for fucks sake" She retorted to herself in an attempt to divert her ascending fear.
The moon shone bright, piercing through the winter night, shining its melancholy light upon the forest.
crunch
crunch
snap
Rachel turned her head, to glance at the animal that was 'probably' just scuttling atop the snow and sees it.
Its looming figure emerges casting its elongated shadow upon her, coupled with its fractured cow skull and deer-like antlers.
It screeches, she runs.
She tries to run as fast as her tired weary legs could possibly take her but she couldn't outrun whatever it was.
It caught up to her quick and swiftly ripped her right hand clean off. She rightfully screamed and writhed trying desperately to get out of its sharp serrated fangs, if you could even call them that.
It pinned her to the ground with ease and took a savoured bite out of her abdomen, blood seeped out of the freshly exposed flesh. That seemed to entice it as It ripped her intestines apart and began mercilessly consuming them.
Skin, bones, organs. clothes.
everything.
There Rachel lay, intestines sprawled across the snow, organs half eaten, ribs exposed, legs broken, and neck snapped. All because she wanted to be seen as brave, she'd died alone and in pain.
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elfboyeros · 24 days
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A Scholar’s Rotunda
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Wanna Read More or start from the beginning: Hallows Academy Masterlist @karaboutmyart @jj-pines @lerenee
“So, if you wish to help me, what is the plan?”
Amora thought for a moment as she sat over her homework, ironically homework for Trigonometry, “I don’t know…” she sighed.
Cobalt huffed, from his phantom place in her room, “Look I’m sorry!” Amora exclaimed.
“Chickadee, you are a smart girl, I believe you will be able to figure out this mess we are in.”
“I’ve searched as much as I can search on the internet about ghosts and ascension. Cobalt, I know as much as you do, we need to figure out your unfinished business! Since no one alive or dead knows how you died we have to find out how you died, yet you don’t remember what happened and I wasn’t even 3 yet and, oh yeah, I was in America!” She vented.
“Sorry that I died at a very inconvenient time for you,” Cobalt remarked with a high level of sass, “Your math is also incorrect!”
Amora groaned, loudly, before the door to her room opened and Loki entered.  
“What are we groaning at?” she asked, approaching Amora’s desk, and looking over her shoulder, “Ewe math.”
“Just having a bit of trouble,” Amora muttered with a sigh.
“I can’t help you out, lovely, I’m sorry,” Loki replied, settling herself into the plush palace that is her bed, “I asked Odis and Lance about books on Supernatural stuff, and they don’t have anything that isn’t fiction.”
“That’s fine,” the blond girl huffed.
“You’re really into the supernatural, huh?”
Amora thought for a moment. She may enjoy the supernatural and studying a subject, she isn’t obsessed with, yet her current predicament makes her seem fixated, “It’s just currently a fascination recently.”
Loki hummed, settling into her bed, “Ya’ know if you are this obsessed, you should check the rotunda,” the British girl remarked.
“The rotunda?” Amora asked.
“It’s the school’s library” Loki answered, adjusting her headphones, “It’s in the rotunda, off the study hall.”
Amora nodded, tomorrow’s Friday she’ll have time to spend all the time she wanted in the library… if she could find it first.
The following morning, Amora ventured into the maze of the academy. Now actually enjoy Cobalt's ethereal company as he guided her through the old halls to the library. After
The following morning, Amora ventured into the maze of the academy. Now, he actually enjoyed Cobalt's ethereal company as he guided her through the old halls to the library. After waving to a few new friends who had taken positions in the study hall, Amora made her way to the library,
A quiet spire full of bookshelves upon bookshelves in between columns and spiraling staircases with some nooks where one could sit, study, and read. It's a book lover’s wet dream, really. In the middle of the rotunda is a large Mahogany checkout station, with stacks of books covering the surface. A melancholic-looking woman with voluminous auburn hair with milky white streaks in her hair that curled around her round peachy cheeks.
“Welcome to the rotunda,” the woman remarked, quietly.
God, why does everyone here sound so depressed and monotone?
“Good morning,” Amora chirped.
“A little too chirper there, chickadee,” Cobalt chuckled.
“Do you have anything on Ghost and the Dead?” Amora asked approaching the checkout station.
“There are multiple pieces of fiction on ghosts in our sci-fi and supernatural sections on the 2nd floor,” the woman replied.
It smells heavily of Lilac the closer Amora gets to the checkout station making her cringe and the overpowering smell, “I was actually looking for something like a research journal,” Amora retorted.
“Those would be the third floor,” the librarian replied, “if we had any.”
Amora nodded taking one of the many spiral staircases up to the third floor of the library, while Cobalt followed his eyes still focused on the librarian in pink that sat at the checkout station. Her name was on the tip of his tongue, while Amora searched and heard through the few nonfiction pieces on ghosts, Cobalt continued to watch the older woman from his ethereal place, wondering why he felt so off being in the rotunda and why he wanted to get as far away from this woman as possible.
“Greyson?” Cobalt muttered to himself as the dean dressed in the color navy made his way to the checkout station.
“What about Mr. Densmore?” Amora asked quietly, her head still in a book rereading much of what she’d already seen on the internet.
“He looks horrible,” the ghost replied.
Amora let out a questioning hum before getting up from her little table to look over the banister. She started at Greyson; he looked fine like he did the day they went but given the grimace on Cobalt’s face at one point in time the dean of Hallows Academy at one point looked different.
“Olympia, do you have the reports I asked for?” Greyson asked the librarian in a stern and tired tone.
“Olympia!” Cobalt gasped, “My god, no wonder she looks familiar!”
“They’re on your desk, dear,” Olympia answered Greyson.
Greyson sighed, shaking his head, “I’m sorry, I guess I didn’t see it.”
“Are you all right, dear?” Olympia asked, softly.
“Why is she calling him dear?” Cobalt asked out loud.
“Maybe it’s just a term of endearment,” Amora replied in a whisper.
“I’m just tired,” Greyson replied to the librarian, “Working too hard and sleeping very little.”
“Then, why don’t you come home tonight? I can order some food, you can relax, we could—”
“I’ll sleep when the work is done.” Greyson interrupted very firmly, “I’m staying in my office for now.”
Olympia looked at the aging man extremely dejected, “I’m horrible old man, I know, and I’m sorry,” Greyson cooed, before placing his hand under her chin and tilting her gaze upwards to meet his, “I’ll make it up to you I promise.”
Cobalt raised an eyebrow, “but he’s married to Klaus…”
Amora looked at Cobalt confused, it was obvious that he knew something she didn’t out the two adults below them, “Klaus?”
“He is or was a teacher here when I was… I would have thought those two would have been together for the rest of their lives,” Cobalt answered, “Let alone end up with her, from what little I remember.”
“And what do you remember?”
“She started here young, had just given birth to a child, and needed a job. In the time I knew her, she was shy, but mysterious as if she was scheming,” Cobalt explained, “But I didn’t know her that well.”
Before Amora could reply, the doors to the library opened again, and Iphigenie walked through, “Genie!” Olympia chirped.
“Hi, momma,” the ginger girl sighed.
“Iphigenie,” Greyson remarked with a smile and nod at the young woman, she only waved.
When standing near one another it is obvious that Olympia and Iphigenie are mother and daughter, “Here,” Iphigenie said pulling books out of her messenger bag.
“Are you going to get others?” Olympia asked.
“Yeah,” her daughter replied before ascending one of the many staircases.
Amora went back to the books she was looking over, coming to the same conclusion that she had when looking across the internet, “So, we have to stay on the whole unfinished business crap,” Amora sighed in a whisper.
Cobalt nodded, “You have a plan now?”
Amora nodded, “You can’t remember how you died, and you can’t leave the school grounds, according to these books and articles on the internet that could possibly mean you are tied to the college somehow which means it’s tied to your death, I think if we find out how you died like if you were shot, stabbed, or whatever we could get at least a step closer to getting you to ascend,” Amora explained, “But I’m going to need you to start doing something.”
“What?”
“Tell me when anything seems off, even if it’s the smallest thing.”
“Ah, you are turning into the little investigator,” Cobalt chuckled.
“Thank you,” Amora replied with a little goofy smile.
Cobalt’s smile faded, “If you are starting a suspect list, put Olympia at the top of it,” he muttered, “There is something about her and being in here that makes me ill.”
“Noted,” Amora sighed.
“Do you always talk to yourself?” Iphigenie asked from behind one of the bookshelves.
The American girl let out an embarrassed squeak, “Not normally,” she mumbled, as she could hear Cobalt laughing in his ethereal place around her.
“Just now?” the ginger girl asked, poking her head out from behind the bookshelves.
“Seems like it,” Amora groaned, “Sorry, it’s weird.”
Iphigenie shrugged, sitting across from the blonde girl, “It is weird, but if it’s what you do it’s fine if it helps you retain the information you’re reading.”
Right, because she is in front of a ton of books, her conversations with Cobalt how ever quiet, could just be her reading to herself out loud, “What are you reading?” Amora asked.
“It’s an art catalog,” Iphigenie replied, “I need some inspiration for my next piece for my painting class.”
“Oh, do you have any pictures of your art?”
“Uh…” The young woman was shocked at Amora’s question, before pulling out her phone, “Here.”
The pictures of her art in the false-realistic style with rococo coloring, “Wow, this is all really good!” Amora exclaimed.
Iphigenie let out a little laugh before smiling, “Thanks.”
“These look so amazing, they look like book covers,” the blonde girl remarked.
“I want to do book illustration, so I need to finish my portfolio so I can submit it places,” the ginger retorted before sighing, “It’s hard-working at the café though.”
“No one really seems to have a job here, but you. Back at home, everyone seems to have one,” Amora observed.
The young woman sighed again, “I want to move back to Switzerland, and knowing my mother, she isn’t going to let me go back willingly even if I am an adult. So, I have to get the money together myself.”
“What a lovely mother,” Cobalt huffed.
The girls soon went back and further chattering away for what felt like hours, before descending one of those many spiral staircases together their books in hand.
“I’ll send you the notes for Trigonometry when I get back to my dorm,” Iphigenie mentioned as she and Amora reached the checkout desk, “There is tutoring on Thursday nights too.”
“I’m usually really good a math,” Amora sighed, “just recent I’m not too sure of myself… I don’t know why,” she said Cobalt was snickered in the background, “I just want to make sure I didn’t miss any notes.”
Iphigenie nodded before taking her book she checked out and leaving with a softy, “See you later.”
“You two are good friends?” Olympia inquired, as Amora sat her books on the counter.
Amora shrugged, “We are acquaintances, Today is the most that we have talked, we only have two classes together.”
Olympia hummed, “Do you intend to keep it that way?”
“What kind of question is that?”
“Excuse me,” Amora questioned.
“I only mean that you don’t seem like a good fit for my genie,” Olympia remarked, “that’s all.”
“A good fit… Iphigenie should be allowed to have her friends,” Amora awkwardly laughed.
“Careful, Amora,” Cobalt remarked softly, he could see the scowl forming on Olympia’s face just as much as she could, but he was also aware from being a parent, Amora just said some fighting words.
“You know better than I, mhm?” Olympia scoffed, passing back Amora’s books.
“No, but I know what it is like to be isolated,” the blonde girl replied, “Even if Iphigenie and I don’t become friends, it should be her own choice to pick her friends despite what you think.”
Olympia clicked her tongue on the roof of her mouth before staring narrowly-eyed at the young girl, “You know not of raising a child.”
“I know,” Amora squeaked out.
Whilst Amora and Olympia were conversing, Cobalt had toddled his way over to a large stack of books, using his ghostly abilities to knock the books over. Allowing Amora to scamper her way out of the library.
“Thank you,” Amora sighed.
“What the hell were you thinking!”
His voice is loud in her ears, as she walks back to the dorms, “Does Olympia seem like a horrible mother yes, but you just met this woman, the woman that is our only suspect.”
Amora huffed before rolling her eyes before he continued, “I commend you for standing up for Iphigenie, but you and I are linked, if you get in trouble that could be bad for our investigation which means I can’t leave this plain to leave you alone!”
“I can’t just stand around while bad stuff just happens,” she puffed out, “It’s just like Bellamy…”
“And who is Bellamy?” Cobalt asked, his tone is much claimer.
“My friend in America, protecting her is what got me sent here in the first place.”
Cobalt hummed seeing the dejected look on Amora’s face as she recalled the memories of Bellamy, “I should text her later,” she muttered.
“You should.” Cobalt agreed.
Amora nodded, “After I figure some stuff out,” she sighed, before hurrying back to the dorms.
Hiding her head in books, examining web articles, searching odd questions in her search bar. If someone was mentoring her search history surely sharing things like ‘What are the most common causes of death’ would be cause for concern.
“Who was the guy you mentioned when we were in the library?” Amora asked Cobalt.
“Klaus, why?”
“Loki mentioned that someone went missing when I first got here,” Amora answered.
Cobalt hummed, “I don’t remember him ever going missing.”
“Klaus Densmore, right?”
Cobalt nodded, as Amora typed the name into the search bar and many articles popped up all with headlines that mentioned Klaus and a disappearance from 15 years ago. The American teen clicked on an article from Solostica News Channel One the same place she had read the article about Cobalt's death.
Beloved Music Teacher Gone Missing Ahead Equinox Festival  
Solostica News Channel One   Editor: Suzette Levi      Writer: Lucian Nicolette Esperine
On March 15th Klaus Densmore, a music history teacher at Hallows Academy, was reported missing by his husband. Last seen on the school grounds his disappearance has shocked our tiny community.
Although he had a vivacious personality and was described as quite direct by many, Klaus was respected and loved by many, including his husband and dean of Hallows Academy Greyson Densmore.  
Klaus Densmore is 5’11, of a pale complexion with jet black semi-leaf cut hair and gray eyes. He was seen in a navy cardigan, black slacks, and black shoes.
If you see Klaus Densmore or have any information on his whereabouts, please contact Solostica Detective Matias Prescott at 020 9734 2648 or ask for him at the Solostica Supervise Office.
Addendum: This case is currently cold according to Solostica Detective Matias Prescott.
“Ah! Ah-ha!” Amora yelped, “Clue!”
“Clue?” Cobalt asked, with his interest peaked he floated over her.
“Klaus went missing right before you died! Maybe you and Klaus are connected!” Amora exclaimed, “Maybe if I try and find stuff about Klaus, we’ll find stuff about you and how you died.”
“It is a definite start.”
“Amora, who are you talking to?”
Amora froze, the smooth silky voice of Loki from behind her, slowly turning around the blonde girl held an awkward smile, as her British roommate looked at her with a concerned gaze, “Lovely, you okay?”
“Yeah, Yeah,” she replied waving her hands in front of her, “Just talking to myself.”
“That’s not a good excuse.”
“Lance talks to himself, he has since we were kids. You were having a full-on conversation before I walked in.”
Amora awkwardly laughed once again, “If you are in the middle of a phone call I’ll leave.”
“At this point, if we are going to be investigating, just tell her,” Cobalt sighed.
“I’m not on the phone…” Amora huffed, “I... I am being haunted by a ghost…”
Loki then began to laugh, making Amora’s whole face bright red, “Loki! I’m serious! Ever since that stupid séance, this guy named Cobalt has been haunting me!” Amora exclaimed.
“And you are talking to him because?” Loki chuckled.
Amora sighed, “I’m trying to help him get to the afterlife.”
Loki continued to laugh loudly, holding her stomach as she did so, which made Amora’s face turn even more red, “LOKI, STOP!”
Cobalt sighed as Loki continued to laugh, the ghostly man moved himself over to Loki’s side of the room, before straining to use his ghostly abilities to knock many of Loki’s items and trinkets off her bedside table to the ground.
“What the hell,” Loki panted after laughing so hard before Cobalt used all of his ghostly strength to throw one of Loki’s mossy green pillows square in her face, “Holy shit you are being haunted by a ghost.”
“WHY WOULD I LIE ABOUT THIS!” Amora shouted.
While Amora explained what had happened since the séance,  the sky darkened into night, the librarian bookkeeper, Olympia, made her way to Greyson’s office. Finding the older man in his sitting area outside of his office, many papers atop the dark color coffee table in front of him as he laid back on his dark blue couch.
“Dear?” Olympia asked, seeing the dean resting across the couch with an arm covering his face.
“Yes Olympia?” he questioned.
“What do you know about the new American girl?”
“Amora?”
“Yes,” Olympia answered her hands clasped in front of her now standing at Greyson's side as he did not attempt to change his posture to give her his full attention.
“She’s a young scholar, here because she has an awful mother,” Greyson explained, “She has great potential.”
“Anything else?” Olympia asked.
“Not that I can recall, or that is relevant at the moment… she likes to read I guess,” Greyson answered with a tired sigh.
“Is she violent?”
“No?”
“Abrasive?”
“Why the questions, Olympia?” Greyson complained.
“She seems friendly with Iphigenie and—”
“Iphigenie is an adult she is allowed to befriend whoever she likes.” Greyson exhaled rolling over on his side.
He hugged the large navy coat under him as if it were an old teddy bear, “but Iphigenie is my little girl,” Olympia whined, “I have to protect her.”
“Protect her, or not have her leave you?” Greyson grumbled.
Olympia sighed, “I’m sorry for bothering you, I’ll leave you be.”
“Travel safety, Olympia.”
“I love you, Greyson,” she replied, as she reached the door.
He only hummed before she exited his office. Left to go home, yet she doesn’t go to the shared townhouse, no she travels to the beachside where a small pale shack sits abandoned and deshelled, where a man sits changed up below ground.
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