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[IC] The Season of the Enlightened Page 2

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Hidden 12 mos ago Post by NoriWasHere
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NoriWasHere

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This town had promise.

While Elsabeth knew she had come here for the circus, it seemed that the town was beset by a significant population of the recently departed. From the ones that simply walked through the newly constructed buildings, unaware of the change in the landscape, to the others whose eyes peaked through the windows with the longing for life. A slight grin spread onto Elsabeth’s face as she used her peripheral vision to examine the ghosts in more detail. There were some soldiers similar to the ones in the fields on the way into town, but there were also young children, elderly, and people who would have been the same age as she was. Each one was dressed in a fashion that either denoted their position in life, or the era they died, and it was a mismatch of these differences across the town. There was no doubt that once word got out that she was here, and ready to help, she would be quite busy.

Elsabeth knew that there was only one place where she could quickly prove her merit. It was the same central meeting point in every town where death was guaranteed to happen. The Tavern. Elsabeth quickly looked around from the town square before she spotted the aptly named ‘The Blue Door’ with its blue front door. Elsabeth thanked the heavens that the coachman had dropped her off so close, as she did not fancy a long trek through the town before such a festive occasion such as the circus. With a gentle first step, Elsabeth moved towards the front door, opened it, and stepped inside.

Elsabeth grinned as she saw her first mark sitting at the far end of the bar, trying to grab at a tankard of ale that was sitting right in front of him. He had long hair, but it was well kept. His clothes suggested he was a man of some means in life, and no doubt this foray into death was not doing well for him. Elsabeth gave it another moment of watching before she moved forward. She could see the tankard begin to shake ever so slowly as the spirit got increasingly frustrated at being unable to grab what it wanted until it suddenly, and ever so gently, moved towards the edge of the bartop before gravity took hold and pulled it down to the ground. The metal tankard hit the ground with a noticeable thud.

The woman working just a bit further down the bar jumped in surprise, hand reaching and resting on top of her chest, as she turned to face the source of the noise. “Good Heavens, what was..” She paused as her eyes scanned for a minute before she spotted the tankard on the ground and her expression quickly turned dour. “Ah blast it, not another one. Wind must’a caught it again,” she paused as she spotted Elsabeth looking on with a bemused expression. Quickly, the woman’s expression changed with the change in fortune. “Waste of a good ale, that’s what that is. I am sorry for that disturbance, ma’am, name’s Agatha Bellwater. What can I do for you?”

Elsabeth moved towards the bar and slowly slid into a seat next to the apparition, careful to not look at it directly but keeping enough of it in her view to still view how it looked. ”I have arrived in town as I heard there was a circus performance to be held later on. In the meanwhile, I come seeking both food and a room to nourish my soul and rest my weary bones.”

Agatha simply smirked. The circus was many things, but she had hoped it would be easy money for her. If this well dressed woman was any indication, her fortune may very well be on the way up. “I do a basic meal at a sixpence, that will get you some bread, meat, a pickle, and a pint of ale. Hot food is one shilling sixpence, and that will get you a stew, pie, or slab of mutton. I do the cooking so you would just need to ask, and pay, and I will get right on cooking that up for you. If you fancy an ale, or a porter, it will be threepence. As for a room to rent, we have a shared room that is one shilling per night, and a private room available that is one shilling sixpence.”

”You have so many options, Agatha, most impressive,” she paused as she caught the ghost looking at the woman with a certain longing in his eyes.

“My late husband knew that the people who visited this town deserved to have the option for a private rest, god bless his soul, and I haven’t had the heart to change anything since he has been gone,” she paused as she forced a smile across her face, “prices and all.”

”I don’t mean to pry, but how long has it been,” Agatha paused as she straightened her posture.

“A year tomorrow.”

Elsabeth let her eyes slide ever so to get a better look at the man's face. While she was not as well versed in knowing how long it had been since someone had died, she could tell that he was not quite at the wailing stage, nor had he lost hope in interacting with the living world. He was a recent death, and he could be around a year old. Older ghosts tend to lose sight of what is in front of them as their grief consumes them. Yet this ghost still had the sense to reach for an ale to dull the pain of their eternal damnation. Elsabeth turned her head to the man, and let her eyes linger on him for a moment. The man turned his head and locked eyes with Elsabeth, before he looked behind him to see if she was looking at something behind him, before he turned back and saw Elsabeth adjust her eyes ever so to remain locked on his. Elsabeth allowed a small smile to cross her face.

“You, you can see me,” he asked, his voice coarse and rough as if there was something blocking his windpipe or damage that remained unseen.

Elsabeth gave the man a quick nod. ”What is your name,” she paused as she turned back towards Agatha and pulled out her coin purse, grabbing enough coinage to pay for a hot meal and a private room. ”The road here was long and I am afraid I must have left my memory out in the fields. May I have a hot stew, with meat and potatoes if possible, and a private room.”

“Joseph, Joseph Bellwater” the man responded quickly as he scurried closer to Elsabeth phasing through the empty stools, causing them to shake ever so.

“Agatha, Agatha Bellwater, don’t you worry about a thing, miss. Are you sure you only want to rent the room for the night? Someone might get it before you do tomorrow.”

”I have a feeling we’ll be coming to an arrangement here soon for the nights that follow, Agatha,” Elsabeth paused as she passed the coinage to the woman, looking around to see if there was anyone else who could hear what she said next. There was a man passed out in the corner, and besides that she had arrived sufficiently early to avoid a crowd. Perfect. ”Have the tankards been falling off the shelves ever since your husband Joseph died right here at the bar?”

Agatha took a step back, face as if she was the one who saw the ghost. “How did you…”

”As I said,” she paused as she looked at Joseph, before towards Agatha, smiling at them both, ”we have much to discuss.”
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Hidden 11 mos ago Post by eugalB
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eugalB Shaking the rust off

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"Alphonse, let me help ya with that, love. We're kin, after all."

Bulma's smile was warm like sunlight. Alphonse always admired her kindness and the attention she gave to the circus family. She was akin to a mother or big sister for many. He was also a bit envious of her strength since he saw it as the genuine article, whereas his displays of physical prowess relied upon the trickery of his ability. Overall, he looked up to her as an example. So the current situation was a bit bittersweet, as he clearly was the one receiving help.

"Ah, thank you. My head gives me a bit of a bad time. Oh, but my body is fine."

Alphonse flexed his arms, as for to confirm his good health. He was wearing a "tiger fur" jacket. In truth, it was cheap fur dyed to look the part, which was good enough considering most people had never seen an actual tiger. It was sleeveless and was only attached with a loose string, so that it couldn't fully close. It was his show costume, showing off his body and helping him to create the persona he presented to the public.

"Are ya excited for the show today? Seems like a real good'un. I tell ya, lovey, as much as I feel exhausted afterwards, there's something about this that moves ya, eh?"

"Of course! We sell dreams, here. Got to give people something to remember, right? Ah, I never got to see a circus show as a kid, but I bet it would have changed my life."

Alphonse looked to his weights resting on the ground. Two 180 pounds balls of cast iron with handles to grab them. Lifting both of them at once would be a serious struggle even for someone as strong as Alphonse if it wasn't for his ability. Once their weight was halved, they were still heavy but it became much more manageable. He would also double their size to make them appear much heavier, so in practice they only had a quarter of the weight they appeared to have during his show. Alphonse was also holding the steel bar he used in combination to the weights. It had hooks on each end to attach to the balls. Finally, he had a crate of cannonballs. Their weight weren't as impressive but juggling those was very popular with the public.

"Well, I can't really say no if you offer to help me. I'd like to use my trick as little as possible until the show starts proper. I might drop the cannonball juggling for this evening if I can't keep my focus straight."

Alphonse put the bar under his arm and carried one of the large balls in his arms. While he was just about capable of lifting it in with a single hand without his ability, carrying it around was a different matter.





"Aaaah, which one, which one..."

Back in his room, Edmund was slouched over books and scattered papers. It was notes for various classes.
So far, he had mostly assisted the teenagers' classes. He didn't mind it as he did believe their education was of the utmost importance. But those new students interested him and the least suspicious way to approach them was simply to do his job. Or rather, that was the strategy he was most confident in since he lacked the subtility needed for a different approach.

But, of course, the curriculum for adults was a completely different beast from the kids'. He was well aware since he still occasionally took some of these classes. It was a lot more freeform, the basics were assumed to be acquired and the classes were typically chosen with specifics goals in mind.

They most likely were here to attune their enlightenment, so this training was a given. But there were quite a few talented teachers he had to compete with. Well, if his hunch that the noble youth also had a frost ability was right, Edmund had good odds to be assigned to him. But that left the other two.

The young man was most likely not nobility but he was well clothed, so most likely bourgeoisie. Those typically tried to figure how to climb the social ladder through their newly acquired powers. If he was any smart, he'd try classes on politics, law and economics. Maybe also history, medecine or mathematics. Edmund only hoped for any other than the last one, as it was his greatest academical weakness.

The lady was the troublesome one. He had nothing on her. Not only that, but it was pretty likely she'd prefer being taught by a woman if given the choice. It was common. And perfectly reasonable.

He lounged into his chair. This was looking to be tough. But it was a good test. If he could surpass this self-imposed trial, then he would grow further. After all, he did desire mastery of many academic fields. And he did also want to be able to help any student. This was becoming less about satisfying his curiosity and more about establishing new goals for himself.

"Well, I'll just learn as many as I can, then."

And so, Edmund started reorganising his notes. As long as you have a clear goal, you can plan a course. And with a proper course, what seemed like an impossible task can be executed through efforts and dedication. It was a philosophy he inherited from his father and it had served him well so far.
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Hidden 11 mos ago Post by PatientBean
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PatientBean Hi, I'm Barbie. What's up?

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Lord Poe rested on one of the chairs as he received the introductions he asked for from the three young pupils before him. He enjoyed these introductions, gauging each of the new faces who joined the school. Eager to see their potential. What truly concerned him, equal parts worry and excitement, was their Enlightened abilities. Oftentimes, it was these skills that showcased what type of student they would be: those with more combat-focused skills tended to enjoy weapon classes, fighting, exercise regimens, possibly even history, while those with mental-based skills enjoyed logical pursuits, classes in strategy or mathematics, science, etc.

Though sometimes an Enlightened ability showed up that surprised him. Chess pieces used to support others were fascinating. "Lady Nightingale, truly a pleasure. I also offer my condolences. Please know that if you need support in that matter, we have staff on hand who can be of aid. Your Enlightened ability sounds intriguing, and I am excited to see how we can expand your knowledge on it. I believe I know a professor here who would be very helpful in this endeavour. Once you get accumulated, with your blessing, I'd love to introduce you."

His attention turned to the next man who spoke up. Lord Blackmore. "Yes, Lord Blackmore, I received your father's letter. Please give him my best when you next speak to him." Lord Poe observed his use of his ability. Interesting control in the face of the headmaster. Lord Poe had a feeling Lord Blackmore here rarely, if ever, heard the word no. "We have a few students here who master ice and snow also. I know they enjoy spending time together in their off hours, so perhaps you might find friendship with them. I look forward to seeing your progress."

Finally, the last student. While he welcomed students who sought out the school rather than those who were enlisted by him or those in his staff, there weren't too many. Still, upon seeing Jo's ability, he was reminded that the school welcomed all, no matter their gender, their station, or their desire for learning. "Impressive young Jo. I hope you find the school to your liking, and I am anxious to see just what you can do. I think the school could use a little bit more tricks, if you catch my meaning." He offered this with a wink before he continued. "Of course, we can speak privately after. That goes for both of you," he said, referring to Selina and Edward, "My doors are open if you have any questions or concerns. I am usually in, but in the off chance I am not, you can speak to any staff member and they will let me know."

"If you will allow me a brief moment here before I let you leave to finish getting settled in, but I am very glad to have you all amongst our ranks. I encourage you to observe inwardly while you are here. What I mean by this is, recognize what goals you have for your time here, but also see what opportunities arise. The history of our country, really our world, has enjoyed putting people into tidy boxes of expectations. That is not the case here. I encourage everyone to explore their interests here. You will not be denied an opportunity due to your family history, your station, your gender, or anything else. These halls have seen many men, women, and others take the opportunities presented to them and go on to do great things. As always, we are here to support you."

Lord Poe allowed them a moment to finish their drinks and sweets before he stood up. "With that, I will let you go to get settled in. Your rooms should be ready and your class schedules should be finalized. If you need to change any of that, please speak to Ms. Pennyford in her office as she is in charge of all of that. Beautiful mind in that one, truly the school would fall to pieces without her. And Jo, please stay behind so we may speak privately."

Once Edward and Selina had exited, Lord Poe beckoned Jo to follow him into his office proper. Inside, he offered Jo one of the chairs in front of his desk while he took a seat in his. Once settled, he gestured. "Please, speak freely. What do you wish to discuss?"



Staff lodgings were set up to provide more comfort for those employed. While students were offered comfortable amenities to help support them, staff were given more space. Typically, a bedroom, a study, and a central sitting room were provided. Meals were taken in the kitchen and dining room, though there was an option to have meals outside of the school if that was preferred.

Students often did not find themselves amongst the staff rooms, but occasionally they would explore and find themselves face-to-face with their professors. As Edmund sat in his study, preparing for a new round of students to be subjected to, he would hear the faint sound of voices.

"-did she mean by naming those other girls though?"

"Nothing, my love. I promise, I have no idea who she is."

"She seemed awfully sure. I think..."

Soon, a short shriek echoed amongst the walls. If listened to carefully, the soft sound of whimpering and crying could be heard as well as the voice, now more sinister. "I said she was wrong. Do you understand me?"



Ms. Pennyford often found herself wandering the halls when she did not have any work to be done. She particularly enjoyed going into the kitchen to see if there were any sweets she could pick up (she had a terrible sweet tooth).

On this particular day, carrying her parasol and spinning it in step, she found herself passing the gardens. Her eyes landed on a lone figure there, recognition apparent on her face. Ms. Pennyford stepped into the floral space and moved closer to Charlotte. "Ms. Waldegrave, I see you are enjoying this beautiful day amongst the flowers. I hope your classes are going well and are to your liking?"

Ms. Pennyford was a recognizable staff member among teachers and students alike. A relatively new hire, she took to the job quickly and helped establish herself as a main go-to for those who needed aid in fixing their classes, changing times, or just anything that needed further scheduling. Lord Poe often remarked on her mind and, with his ability, figured out that her Enlightened ability allowed her to process information quickly and remember pretty much everything she was told. A useful tool to have in his school. Ms. Pennyford was also a figure of kindness, never having a bad word to say about anyone. It took an awful lot to ruffle her feathers (and many have tried).



Aoko chuckled lightly. "Oh yes, the new students. I am eager to see their fighting styles. Especially those of noble lineage. There is always one who feels that because their father gave them a sword at a young age that they are masters. Is it so bad I enjoy putting them in their rightful place?" she asked, a small grin on her lips.

Aoko came from Africa after her parents were slaughtered, though she rarely talked about it. What Lord Poe appreciated most was how trained Aoko was in weaponry and battle without any Enlightened abilities. He found people underestimated her due to this, but no matter what someone threw at her with their powers, she handled it with grace and strength. It was one of many reasons he hired her, and she was highly sought out for training, mainly among women who were interested in learning to defend themselves, but also some men who either felt they could best their professor or those who did not care about gender roles.

"What of the rest of your day, Sylas? I have some time before my next class and I love watching you work. Perhaps you would honor me with a duel?"



Big Bulma smiled warmly, helping only with what she expected. She had enjoyed Alphonse's performances, though she could recognize that he judged himself harshly. It was easy, she felt, to judge oneself compared to others, even those you shared a stage with.

"Oh, I do so enjoy your juggling, but if that is what you feel is best, my lovey. Don't overextend yourself. We may provide dreams, but that does not mean extinguishing your own." Bulma had dreams, ones she shared freely and ones she kept closer to her heart.

"Perhaps one of the other performers could help? Take some pressure off yourself while helping others. I could ask around if you want." Bulma hated seeing her family struggle. Many would jump at the chance to help out, some not so much. It took all kinds to run a circus. "Mr. Maleficar may run a tight ship, but even he would not want to see you struggle, love."

In truth, not many people knew Mr. Maleficar's motivations. He wasn't unkind in the open, but rumors still spread around. It was hard to separate fact and fiction.



Mr. Maleficar left his office and made his way to the storage tent, where he knew his boys...correction, his man...would be, training and getting ready for tonight. The Eclipsed Born he called them. Their parents, fickle beings, damned them to death, but he saw potential. Greatness. If there was one thing Maleficar knew, it was talent and his Eclipsed Born were brimming with potential.

He waited a beat, trying to give him some privacy in their moments, before he gently knocked and stepped in. Maleficar watched them a moment, taking them in. He was not blessed with children, didn't rightly know if that was ever in the cards, but he sometimes saw those under his care as his own flesh and blood. Cassiel and Obasi were his. Sometimes he had to run a tight ship, which meant he had to have a firm hand or word; that was just how it had to be. He relied on some of the others to help, like Bulma.

"You ready for the big show?" he asked, stepping forward to clamp a hand on Cassiel's and Obasi's shoulder. "It's a big 'un tonight. And, truth be told, the start of a lengthy season for us here, so don't put it all on tonight. Save some for the rest."

Maleficar glanced around the storage tent. "I know you like to practice here, but you can do so out on the grounds if you prefer. Anyone gives you a hard time you point me in their direction. I will not stand for any of my own being messed with, even from kin."




Mayweather bustled around a bit, tidying up as was her want. "Oh, I don't know about that missus Melody. I see the work ya do for the young'uns and by all God's graces and virtues you are a saint amongst many." Mayweather kept to herself a lot and that included secrets. She was sometimes a trusted ear from those who needed to vent or confess. She kept a tight lip.

"Lady Rosemarie did not appear too concerned, if I may so say, but you are right. Usually spells trouble." As she prepared to leave Melody to her services, she turned to respond. "I reckon I do not know too much how Mr. Morris works, but I would imagine he is in his lab doing Lord knows what with his tools. If you do not find him there, perhams young Prudence would know. She seems close to him. Shall I send word for him missus?"


Skill Used: Stealth

Prudence blew a frustrated breath out. It seems most of the staff had little use for her. There was also a lot of mistrust amongst them towards her, ironic given the services the Haven offered. "All right, if you say so." She could not hide her disappointment much.

Prudence turned to leave, but had a thought. Morris was as close to a friend as she had here, but did she trust him? Did she trust anyone? She never knew his work to its full extent. What did he do here? Lady Rosemarie trusted him, and that seemed to please everyone, but Prudence did not give hers so readily.

"Do send for me if you need me, however. I have bundles of time." She stepped back a bit and closed her eyes, summoning her Enlightened ability.

Her ability allowed the use of illusions. She had practiced enough to know she could control them and shift them if needed. In doing so, around her body, she could make it seem like she was invisible to the untrained eye. She concealed herself and crept along, closer to Morris' workstation, and settled herself close enough to hear him, should he speak.

This was necessary, she had to tell herself. If she was going to be a part of the Haven, she needed to learn who she could and could not trust.
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Hidden 11 mos ago Post by Kirah
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Kirah Dragonbunny

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Charlotte Waldegrave

Location: School Garden


Charlotte had watched the pair of doomed lovers leave the garden. She could only hope that the young woman would take the hints that Charlotte had thrown at her and leave Nigel. No one deserved such a companion. Charlotte could not force her to see the danger she was in, but maybe with some warning, she could escape him before she was ruined. Charlotte hated that part of society. Hated it with a passion. The touch of a man should not define a woman.

She was lost in her thoughts and did not sense that Ms. Pennyford had arrived. She kept most of the surprise out of her reaction, but it was impossible for all of it to be hidden. "Ah, Ms. Pennyford. I was not aware you were there." She gave a slight curtsy, one of respect, not of titles. "Classes are treating me well. I have some work to do, so I should head to the library soon. I wanted some fresh air before I undertook such endeavors."

“Sorry darling, I have been known to just pop in and out and not be seen. A light foot my mother would often say. I am so happy to hear things are going well. Should you need further opportunities to expand your education, you need only ask.”

"Thank you. I appreciate that,” Charlotte said sincerely. "What sort of educational opportunities do you offer?” Curiosity in her voice this time.

“Well it depends on what you would like. We can invite speakers here to lecture on a wide range of topics. We can set up individual learning sessions with current staff or can see about bringing some outside help if the need arises. You could see about doing more work studies where you go and learn. At the same time, you perform duties, though as progressive as this school is, unfortunately, the outside world still frowns on women performing things outside of domestic leanings. However, if that is something you are interested in we could see about that. There’s a lot to be gained here Ms. Waldegrave, you just need to reach for it.”

Charlotte hummed, then nodded. "I will make some considerations and bring them to you. If they are satisfactory I would appreciate the assistance.” Ms. Pennyford was correct in assessing that Charlotte was in a situation that little could get her out of. If, however, she could make that situation more bearable, there was hope for her future yet. "Thank you again. I shall head to the library now.” She gave another small curtsey of respect.

Ms. Pennyford returned the curtsey in kind and went on her way, spinning her parasol as she did so. She had further work to be done, but she did so enjoy the outdoors.

Charlotte let Ms. Pennyford head off, and then she made her way to the library. She did have work to do.
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Hidden 11 mos ago Post by Theyra
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Eldemir Akinci

Location: St. Eustace's School - Library



That took longer than I expected, Eldemir thought as he left the training room after finally cleaning up the training room of broken practice dummies. He departed for his next destination. Which was the library, since it was the time of the day when he could relax for a time before needing to help with more students. While the library is not his go-to place to relax, that is the school garden. He always enjoyed reading books, and the school's library has a good collection of books to read while he is off duty.

He sighed at the thought, off duty. While he does enjoy his off time at the school. Eldemir is really not off duty when at the school. He just has times he would rather have his own time to relax, but is still willing ot help out a student if approached or seems like they need the help. Eldemir is a member of the faculty after all and is employed there for a reason. If he does not want to help the students here, then he has no reason to be here.

So after passing by some students and teachers. Eldemir made his way to the library and was greeted by the familiar sight and smell of the library, with all of its books and students studying whatever they needed to.

Today, Eldemir was not picky about what he wanted to read today but he had an idea of what kind of book he wished to read. He headed to the history section, and after some time, browsing the large selection of books on the bookshelves. He found his choice, "there you are." He said softly as he pulled the book from the bookshelf and looked around keenly for an empty spot of his choosing.

After finding a perfect spot near the windows. Eldemir walked over and sat down, and started reading his book. Though he would be open to anyone who wished his attention, if anyone in the library desired as much.
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Hidden 11 mos ago Post by Blizz
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Blizz Archmage of the Fucking Universe / Etc

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Location: The Haven



With that done, Morris set out to deliver the rest of the letters in quick succession. He knocked on doors and left them in baskets hung up for this very purpose, down the winding halls of the Haven. It was just another day, doing this and that, whatever Rosemarie or one of the girls needed. It was easy work, and it needed to be done. He'd always made a point of keeping on top of things like this out of respect, and also out of a deal he made once. Rosemarie had been gracious enough to let him stay, and he insisted he earn it, rather than let her just house him for nothing in return. He didn't have much more left to do with the mail doled out.

Nothing mundane, anyway. He didn't notice Prudence skulking around his workspace under a veil of invisibility.

He withdrew a key from his coat, made of tarnished ivory, and slid it into a lock with no pins. The door was thicker than most, though no one would know just by looking at it. It slid open without a sound, and without a push from Morris. He walked in and left the door to slowly swing shut on its own, with more than enough time for someone to sneakily slip inside behind him. But who would? After all, it was dark behind that door. Not a single light was on, until Morris began igniting gas lamps with a match, one by one, until the room was mostly visible.

It resembled an infirmary, in a way. There was a long table covered in jars of various fluids, a shorter table with wooden stands holding up oddly shaped bones that seemed to be an incomplete project, and a set of tools in a leather bundle, rolled up for storage. The walls were bare stone and mortar, and a drain was open in the center of the floor. The room felt cold, and it wasn't just the temperature.

"Vicar," He muttered, removing his coat and layering it over a chair. "The talisman. Fill a phial with two parts water, one part laudanum, bring it to me as well. Gently, now."

Something in the dimmer parts of the room shuffled. It was tall, and there was a scraping noise.



Location: St. Eustace's School



"I certainly feel it is important to put them in their place," Silas remarked. "We live in dangerous times, Ms. Aoko. Many of these children may find themselves at the end of a blade, or at the hands of an inquisition. It is right of you to amend their notions of superiority. He had heard too many stories of a young Enlightened who had assumed their abilities to defy reason could defy bullets, stories of their abilities giving out at crucial moments when a holy man of the faith had just enough time to plunge a knife between their ribs. Arrogance got people killed, it was a rare thing in a "civilized" society, when they were allowed to only get laid flat on their face instead.

A duel did sound interesting.

"I was hoping to keep myself available, should Ingram need me with today's events. But, if you can bear with an empty-handed combatant, then by all means, I will happily take that offer." Silas was by no means the local authority on combat, even keeping in mind the boys outside. It was a mechanism, for him. A method of improving himself and keeping sharp in a world full of monsters who preyed on his kind.
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Hidden 11 mos ago Post by SilverPaw
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Lord Ingram Poe & Jo Montague

A collab with @PatientBean


Jo noticed Lord Poe referred to Selina as a Lady, and filed that tidbit away. He smiled politely even when he was the only one the headmaster used his first name for. No Mister for him, huh? Oh, well. The important thing was, the principal had agreed to meet with him right away.

When the others left, Jo followed the headmaster to his office, footfalls soft as a matter of habit. He took the indicated chair, and faced Lord Poe. He took a deep breath before he began.

“It’s about my father, Edward Montague. He was invited as a guest speaker at your school in the past, Lord Poe, and he spoke well of you. I believe he trusts you, so I decided to take my chance, too,” he admitted. “He…”

His fingers scratched at the fabric of his trousers. “He has gone missing,” he breathed. His next words were faster, almost rushed, though he did his best to remain composed. “He was supposed to return home by the end of August. I gave him another three days just in case before contacting the authorities. It has been almost a month now, and still, they refuse to declare him officially missing.” He frowned, nostrils flaring once. “I want to think they are doing their best, but to be honest, I’m concerned. This is not like my father. He wouldn’t just go off gallivanting without a single word home,” he emphasized. He met the principal’s eyes, and swallowed silently.

“So, I was wondering if you would be willing to put in a word to expedite matters, Lord Poe. I realize this is a hefty request.” All he could do was hope the headmaster might indulge him.

After a moment of silence, he added, “If it interests you, I know where his business took him.” His hand wandered to the letter he had put into his inner waistcoat pocket, ready to hand it over if the principal was willing to help – or even if he was on the fence, really. As long as it wasn’t an outright no, Jo figured they could work something out.

Lord Ingram Poe listened intently as Jo regaled him of his plight with his father. He remembered Edward Montague fondly. The man was an excellent speaker and the students enjoyed his speech as did he. To hear he has been missing for a length of time was surprising. What was not surprising was that the authorities were doing precious little to find him. Unless Edward was of a serious and significant rank, he doubted they cared. Money spoke more than a child’s words.
“Yes, Jo, I remember your father. I am sorry to hear of it. I cannot promise to grease the wheels of justice, but I can promise to do what I can.” Lord Poe looked to the letter Jo pulled out. “If you have information, please share. Anything that could be of help.”

Jo pulled out the folded paper, and handed it over. It had not been sent that long ago, yet the creases and crinkles showed it had been handled often. Its edges were smoother, a tad oily from touch, and a tiny splatter of tea had dried in one corner. The seal had been broken, but the sender’s address remained legible on the outer side.

Sir,

I had a most fruitful engaging discussion the other day with an acquaintance of mine, and spoke of your fondness of engineering. I recalled your presentation following the successful journey of Trevethick’s steam locomotive. You expounded on the sheer genius behind the invention, and offered a few speculative improvements. But what most impressed me was the imagery you painted in your audience’s minds: a world connected by railways, the novel idea of steam engines being used for all manner of other vehicles as well.

Ah, but enough flattery. I know it is a habit of mine you dislike. So, as a fellow man of business, let me strike at the heart of the matter, shall I?

My associate has been in contact with a man who claims he can improve the high pressure steam process, and create a better commercially viable model of the steam-fueled train. I am eager to hear your perspective on this idea. If you are amenable to a discussion, you are cordially invited at my London estate on the 22nd of August at 4PM. I am eagerly awaiting your reply.

Respectfully,

Lord Sidney Campbell


Lord Poe read the letter and read it again to ensure he understood. The progress of locomotives had been a topic he had discussed, but it was not something he took much interest in. Technology advanced as did most things. “Jo, am I to understand your father left to meet this Lord Campbell and never returned?”

“He…” Jo’s gaze flitted down, fingers twisting nervously. Even if he didn’t say it now, the headmaster would find out if he looked into it. An exhale gusted his lips, and he grudgingly admitted what he knew. “They did send an investigator eventually…Lord Campbell claimed he met up with my father, who then left, and he knows nothing else.” The truth left a bitter taste in his mouth. “So, it’s a dead end. Supposedly.” His lips twisted, shoulders scrunched up, and two spots of colour crept up his cheeks. He expected to be told that it was nothing. That he was worrying too much, clinging to that last piece of correspondence as a hint when it was only an unfortunate coincidence. That something might have happened on his father’s journey, but why would a lord who’d been distraught to hear of his disappearance have anything to do with it?

Lord Poe knew better than most that people, adults especially, did not always have the best of intentions. Whether this Lord Campbell was responsible or not, Jo’s father went there, left, and never made it back home. “I think that has yet to be determined. With your permission, I would like to look into this. I cannot promise anything, but I can at least promise to give it my best and, hopefully, find out what happened to your father. Would that be okay?”

Finally, Jo looked up. “Please, yes. If there is any way for me to help, I will do whatever I can.”
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Hidden 11 mos ago Post by TimelessParagon
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TimelessParagon A seeker of Truths

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Collab with @PatientBean @Blizz
The young lord left the headmaster's office rather content despite the former's rather odd predisposition, for a man of his status at least, towards what Edward saw as less favorable fellows.
As it was hours until dinner, or even luncheon, he decided to indulge in some exploration around the various halls of St-Eustache. The valet following silently behind him.
While he did meet some other students, those didn't seem too inclined in conversation nor interesting for him to engage anyways.
He passed by a strange scene involving a man sitting with a women while another one talked to both before the pair left the scene. A love triangle perhaps? or a jealous ex? No matter.

Before long Blackmore found himself staring at a field lined with hedges and a series of earthen pits marked with white clay lines. Benches lined the more centrally located ones with the very largest ring surrounded by three-tiered benches capable of holding over a hundred spectators with standing room for much more.

"A dueling stage..." muttered the man under his breath, he knew what it was of course, he even had a similar, albeit smaller, one back at the Blackmore estate for his practice with hired sword masters.
Currently the field was empty with not even a single pairing around which was honestly a shame, he could not wait to see what abilities his "peers" would display. As the duel was considered the truest test of one's character distinguishing between the true upper class from the tasteless rabble.

The day was still young, some exercise before lunch never hurts.
Thus the man leapt into the central ring, manifesting an elegant rapier of ice before practicing some simple drills. Carving away at a target dummy of soft snow.
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Hidden 11 mos ago → 11 mos ago Post by Memoria
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Memoria Someone's Bookish Flower Bride 🐸

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Present - Late Morning 《》 Lady Melody Heathering 《》 The Haven for Wayward Girls 《》Melody@MemoriaMayweather, Prudence@PatientBeanMorris@Blizz
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The compliment lingered in the air like incense. “A saint among many.” Melody did not correct Mayweather. Her lashes lowered, the corners of her mouth curled in a soft, unbothered grace, and her irises shifted: from storm-swept dusk to something rounder, warmer. Lavender melting into lilac. As if her soul had briefly settled into its bones and found itself welcome there. She seemed to still herself... shoulders lowering, hands folding together. A momentary quiet gathered around her like a shawl.

“I don’t know about sainthood,” she said after a beat, her voice gentle, shaded with a smile. “But I do know how to boil tea, hum lullabies, and sit with grief. I suppose that's more than most." A slight hint of melancholy settled in her gaze.

When Mayweather offered to send word for Morris from wherever he was tucked away—likely that cold little lab of his—Melody’s smile remained, though her head inclined in gentle refusal.

“Oh no, don’t trouble yourself, Mayweather. You’ve much to manage as it is,” she said, a tone of understanding nestled behind her words. “I’ll find him.” Melody exited with grace, trailing the quiet warmth of her presence behind her like perfume. She paused briefly, only to add, "Thank you."

Beyond the drawing room and the girls' sleeping quarters, the corridors were quiet in the way cathedrals were... filled with the hush of things left unsaid. Candlelight wavered across aged plaster and gilt-edged tapestries, throwing slow shadows over the stitched coats-of-arms, the stitched bruises of history. Along the walls, portraits of formidable women watched her pass: a weather-beaten sailor with a saber at her hip; a violinist with eyes closed and blood on her bow; a woman clad in widow’s black, her spine as straight as her sorrow. Among others, Melody did not know if these women were real, but she had a nagging sense that each had a story. Each had bled something to build this place, whether historical, fictitious, or otherwise.

The Haven was made of them, she thought. Their rage, their devotion, their ruin.

The light played across Melody’s cheekbones as she walked, her silhouette cast beautifully like the anthousai of some forgotten fairytale. And then—

A grunt. A muttered curse.

Turning a corner, Melody came upon Madame Bisset, arms wrapped around the cracked base of a monstrous flowering pot, its lush orange petals spilling from the rim like overripe tongues.

“Oh dear,” Melody said with a note of melodic sympathy, stepping closer. “Shall I—?”

Bisset huffed, "No, no—leave it." Madame Bisset waved her off with a breathless flurry. “Foolish of me to grow something this large in a clay pot. She's an absolute diva."

Melody chuckled behind her palm, coy and fond. Her voice twinkled, "But what do divas desire more than applause."

The older woman snorted and scoffed but didn’t hide her grin. “Go on, girl. Off to your haunt.”

Melody offered a delicate curtsy, continuing on.

When alone, without emotion to mirror or company to soften, Melody’s eyes often found their resting hue—a deep, violet shade like candlelight cast through amethyst. That color carried no agenda. No false warmth. It was her own. Just her. The true shade of a woman who’d spent most of her life listening to others before herself.

As she neared Morris’s door, her mind wandered toward Mr. Maleficar’s Traveling Circus, which had arrived just before dusk. Perhaps only a few days before. The posters were everywhere in the city... ink-bright and lurid. She hadn’t voiced it aloud, but something in her stirred uneasily when she passed them. Too much color, too much hunger. And yet, she did not want her own reservations to impose on the joy of the girls, who'd already made loud protestations as to why they should be allowed to go. And so, here she was.

The door stood ajar.

Inside, Morris hunched over a table littered with strange things. He was deep in concentration. He hadn’t heard her knock, it seemed. Three times. The clink of glass, the hush of movement drowned out everything but his own preoccupations.

She let herself in, slipping through the door like a sigh and gathering her skirt as to avoid a snag.

The room breathed cold. Not in temperature alone, but in the way mortuaries did. Or cleanly dressed battlefields. The walls were bare stone and mortar. A long table held jars with fluids she couldn’t name. On another lay bone fragments that seemed more sculptural than anatomical. One looked like the curve of a femur that hadn't belonged to any creature she recognized. Even so, all the bones held the shape of questions, unfinished and uncertain. A drain waited in the floor, mouth open.

Melody didn’t shudder, but she did hesitate, heart slowing.

Her fingers curled loosely in front of her skirt as she glanced toward the bones again. Macabre. That was the word that returned. She’d never fully understood his gift, only that it was crude, practical, blood-bound. Nothing like hers. And perhaps that was the difference between them. He built from remnants; she softened wounds with the breath of feeling.

She straightened her spine just slightly, her gift humming beneath her ribs, and adjusting her posture to reduce surprise. Melody's magic had a way of tempering the space around her so as not to rupture the tension of the room.

"Morris?" she said softly, her voice carrying the gentleness of an older sister waking a child from a dream. "Forgive me, I tried knocking..." His attention didn't snap immediately. She let her voice hang.

Melody's gaze flickered toward the darker end of the room. Something stirred faintly. Not seen, not known. She felt the soft impression of emotion, a young aura, light and mischievous. It brushed across her empathic senses like the wing of a moth. Melody's eyes shifted in color, one, a deep azure, the other, a soft, rich emerald. She thought it might be Prudence, knowing of the girl's penchant for invisibility, but made no move to acknowledge it.

She returned her focus to Morris.

“I see you're in the middle of... something,” she began, casting another glance at the skeletal framework on his table, “but I wondered if you might accompany me and a few of the girls into town. The circus has arrived not too long ago, and I thought it might do them good to see a bit of fantasy outside our walls.”

The woman hesitated a beat before she continued, searching for words with velvet care.

"I'd go alone, but..." she offered a faint smile that didn't quite reach her eyes, "I imagine the sight of me leading a troupe of mostly lily-faced girls through a strange, tented bazaar might stir more curiosity than comfort. Optics being what they are."

It was more of a half-smile now. Not bitter. Just honest, despite her position in society as the ward of the widowed Baroness Florence Heathering.

Her thumb brushed across her palm. She waited then. Heterochromatic eyes steady. Eyes full of witchlight and possibility. Patient. Reaching no further than was welcome.

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Hidden 11 mos ago Post by eugalB
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eugalB Shaking the rust off

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"Wait a moment, did I mix the order of events? From which year did they start enforcing this law?"

The pile of documents was growing steadily as Edmund lost himself in the depths of legislative History. Which wasn't even the subject he was preparing. However, he consumed knowledge like a starved man would eat fresh bread. In more than one sense, this was the kind of attitude which got him to his current position.

It was then that he noticed two voices comming from the hallway. A feminine one and a masculine one. What he could hear seemed like a lover quarrel. The only romance he studied was Romanticism. And besides, even if they didn't care to keep their matters private, he certainly didn't care for scandals. Choosing to ignore the commotion, he grabbed a book which should have contained the answer to his question.

And immediately dropped it as he heard a sudden shriek. In an instant, the assistant teacher was out of his chair and walking towards the door in a quick stride. The manner in which one intervenes matters most of all. After all, it is what determines the result. Urgency had to be mesured, calm and decisiveness ensured control in those situations.

As he got out of his room, his eye quickly caught the situation. The two student were next to his wall, the man pressing the woman against the wall. Edmund slammed the door shut and exclaimed :

"Good morning!"

"Wh-what?" The student turned toward him, startled.

"Ah yes, sorry, it is getting a bit late for morning."

The assistant approached the students. The man released the woman and turned fully toward the disturbance. She backed away as his attention fully shifted targets. Edmund, as usual, seemed perfectly calm, unmoved even. In truth, he had to suppress his rising anger to prevent himself from making the wrong move.

He was struggling to remember the man's name. Nolan Kurth? Not quite. Edmund knew he was a minor troublemaker, but not quite a rebel either. Maybe a bit gutless? Well, that would become clear soon enough.

"Is there a problem?"

"What's your problem?" The fright was morphing into anger. Nicolas(?) was already agitated and now this meddler had the balls to ask that. And getting uncomfortably close too, so much so that the student felt the need to take a step back to regain his personal space.

"I was just asking about that." Edmund said while closing the distance.

Anger was overtaken by confusion. No matter what expression arose on the man's face, it found neither reflection nor contrast on the assistant's. It was a still façade, giving no push or pull on anger, fear or awkwardness. Nathan(?) tried to recede again and, this time, it was his back which found the wall.

"You can confide in me, you know. I can listen whenever it is needed." He had no intention to enter the boy's rythm. He would not give him strife, nor would he leave him alone. Edmund intended to force him to react, to show his hand.

But Noah(?) looked to the side and saw that the woman had already left. He let out a sigh and his shoulders collapsed.

"OK, OK, fine. What do you want to talk about?"

"... Come with me. We'll have a chat around a cup of tea."

His hands were cold, ready to freeze. In a way, he was hoping the man would react violently. He wanted that excuse. He already planned which moves would incapacitate him.

But it wasn't happening.

Edmund opened his door and invited Norman(?) in. A good lecture would probably make for a better medicine anyway. And he had plenty to say, on good behaviors, on consent, on respect, on the values of the school, etc.




Alphonse was getting embarrassed by Big Bulma's attention. She was almost too sweet.

"Oh shush, there's plenty of people who juggle much better than me in here. And I'll be fine anyway, I won't feel anything in just a few hours, for sure." He flexed his body into a confident position. It was mostly bravado and it became apparent when his headache made him grab his forehead due to a burst of pain.

"Ugh. It should calm down soon enough. That being said, well maybe I could assist someone today, rather than take the center role. I bet there's plenty of people who would like an opportunity to shine. Actually, I kinda missed the morning bustle here, so how's the family feeling today?"

Alphonse was looking at his show weight. He wasn't happy with the idea. Stepping to the side like this felt like a failure to him. But he knew it was better to take some rest than risking an error in front of the audience. Especially since it wasn't just a matter of pushing through this one day, they were starting a performance of undetermined length.

And anyway, he knew better than to look down on the supporting roles. He played it plenty of times before, especially as he was starting out, and he saw how important it is. There is simply no true one-man show, all performances depend on helpers, on or off stage.

Maybe the right thing to do was to go see those who were busy practicing and who he could lend a hand to.
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Hidden 11 mos ago Post by NoriWasHere
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NoriWasHere

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“How did you know that,” Agatha asked again, though this time her tone was firm. Her heavy hands slammed down onto the bar, knocking over a glass as she did, sending it crashing to the ground below, and filling the air with its shattering sound.

Elsabeth quickly scanned the room to see if anyone was paying too close attention to her conversation, and sighed as it seemed to be safe still. The only client in the tavern was still fast asleep in the corner. ”I am what is known as a spirit medium,” Elsabeth paused as she took in a deep breath, looking towards Joseph who had proceeded to start crying. It wasn’t the wailing, but it was loud and distracting. Elsabeth needed it to stop. She raised up a single hand until it was on level with his face and snapped her finger. The sound seemed to stir him from his cries and focus his attention on her.

“That’s not an answer. I don’t believe in that, my Joseph was a good man. An honest man. A man of God. If he’s anywhere he’s with the lord now.”

”As many would think.” Elsabeth turned to Joseph with an empty face. ”I will ask you a series of questions. It is important that you give me a clear, concise, answer. Understood?”

“Are you already drunk,” Agatha asked.

“I-I-I understand,” Joseph responded.

”Tell me about how you first met your wife,” Elsabeth asked as she kept her gaze on the ghastly figure.

“I met her when I-I was seven.”

”You met him when he was seven,” Elsabeth repeated. Her eyes drifted towards Agatha and saw only rage on her face.

“I was a-a-a farmers son, and I was out working the fields. I was too weak to help farm so I was tasked with chasing-chasing the black birds. She came running through the fields screaming that she was being chased by a bad man..”

”He was too young to help with the farming so he was tasked with chasing the crows. You came running through the farm as you were being chased by a bad man,” Elsabeth narrowed her eyes as the anger seemed to only grow in Agatha. It must’ve been a story that was told before and someone could know this. ” Joseph, it seems you’ve told the story of your first meeting many times before. Was there any aspect of it that neither of you have shared before,” Elsabeth kept her eyes locked on Agatha in case she needed to run.

“Ye-yes, yes there is one part. She was running through our farm not because she was running from a bad man, she was running from the watchmen.”

”You would later tell him that you were being chased by the watch,” Elsabeth paused as she watched the anger on Agatha’s face melt to shock.

“Agatha had stolen a bag full of food from the market.”

Elsabeth did another scan of the tavern before she continued. Again, the drunkard in the corner contributed his snoring to the conversation. ” You had taken a bag of food.”

“Her family was starving and were without coin.”

”You did it to help your starving family.”

“It’s why to this day she gives out free meals to those in need”

”This shame is why you give away food to those who need it.”

“To both help people who are going through the same situation, and to try and clear-clear her sin.”

”And it’s all because you don’t want others to commit the very same sin you committed.” Agatha recoiled back, taking three steps as she did until her back was slammed into the wall. Her jaw was tense, her eyes darted, and her hand slowly rose to cover her mouth. Elsabeth knew that she had an in. ”Thank you Joseph,” Elsabeth paused as she looked back to the man and offered a warm smile before returning to Agatha with the same one. ”Sudden, and tragic, loss of one’s life can lead to their spirit being trapped in the mortal realm. I am someone who specializes in helping those trapped here to reach the other side.”

“I don’t want to go,” Joseph spat out.

“What if I don’t let you help him move on,” Agatha asked soon after.

”Things will be the way they are right now. The only difference is now you know,” Elsabeth paused as she sighed, ”but I want you both to think of what will happen from here. You won’t be able to see each other, hold each other, comfort each other,” Elsabeth paused as she let the words hang, ” That alone is a curse. As well, the longer Joseph lingers the more emotion, personality, and everything else that makes him, well, himself will be slowly eroded. He’ll become more cold, confused, angry,” she closed her eyes as she took a deep breath in, and then loudly out.

”Pray tell, have you heard mention of something known as a poltergeist?

“No,” Agatha softly responded.

“Don’t they live near Spain?” Joseph asked in return.

”A poltergeist is,” Elsabeth paused as her head shot over to Joseph. Her eyes remained fixated on the man, a single eyebrow raised at the comment. ”A spirit who has remained too long and is considered noisy. You can see it with the tankards. Joseph is already considered such a spirit. Eventually, he’ll get louder and louder, and louder still. When you’re gone, Agatha, how loud do you think he’ll get? If you don’t pay enough attention to him, how many knives could he throw? When his memory becomes fragmented and things change, how many people can be affected?”

Elsabeth paused as she looked back at Agatha. ” While it may seem like a blessing now, it’ll quickly turn into a curse. One that you will be powerless to dispel.”

Agatha pushed off the wall, her eyes scanning where Elsabeth had been looking and strained as if she could will her eyes alone. Yet Elsabeth could tell that her words had moved the woman enough, even if she could tell by his energy that Joseph would be harder to convince.

“What would you need in return,” Agatha asked as a few tears began to steam down her cheek.

”Room and board, meals, and patience,” she responded bluntly, ”I will not need to pay, but I will need time. I need to get to know Joseph, his story from his mind, and what keeps him here,” she paused as she looked back to Joseph who had continued to yell ‘NO’ at her, ”I don’t think he’ll be very forthcoming at first.”

“You can have the room for a week, but I’ll still charge you for food,” Agatha paused as she stifled a cry, “after that you’ll be on your way. Agreed?”

”You have a deal.”

In the corner, the Old Drunkard opened one eye as he continued faking a snore. A slight grin spread across his face.
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Hidden 11 mos ago Post by PatientBean
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PatientBean Hi, I'm Barbie. What's up?

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Once Jo had exited his office, he fell onto his chair with a 'huff'. This job had come with all sorts of added stress he had not expected. Most of it comes from the looming threat of constantly having his funding pulled or the government deciding that Enlightened didn't need to be trained or educated and instead rounded up, locked away, or worse.

And now we have a missing man and a student worried about their father. That would not bode well. He had some sources he could pull or ask for, but it would be better to perhaps send someone over to investigate. Which means he would need to make contact with the one person who, he knew, never wanted to hear from him again.



Lady Rosemarie crossed the threshold of the school; something she had never expected to do again. She walked with the confidence of someone who could be accepted here, so students paid little attention to her. Perhaps she was a new teacher on her way to a lecture? Or was she a wealthy aristocrat who donated money to the school and wanted to see where her funds were being allocated?

She glanced around at the school, grown since she last saw it. She came upon the old, wooden doors and she took a moment, fleeting though it were, to reflect before she knocked. The doors opened quickly and she swept herself inside.

Lord Ingram Poe stood in front of his desk as Lady Rosemarie entered. "Lady Rosemarie, it is a pleasure to have you here. Would you like anything to drink?"

Lady Rosemarie didn't often let emotion play out on her face, but there was a small twitch of her eye as Poe spoke. Memory was a precious thing. "Do not do me a disservice by pretending this is a cordial visit, Lord Poe. I received your summons and found it intriguing enough to make the journey here, but this is not two friends meeting. This is business." She gathered herself up before she moved to the sitting area off the side and sat down. "Tea will suffice."

Lord Poe rubbed his temples as he summoned a servant to fetch them tea. He walked over and sat down. "Lady Rosemarie, I mean no disrespect. I would not have asked you here if I did not have a sufficient reason. I understand my father and yo-"

"Let me stop you right there, Lord Poe. Your father and I have history and that is not to be dredged up by you or anyone else. I will not speak ill of the dead, may he rest in peace, but you and I both know what your father did. So, please, be quick about why I am here or I will leave. I have my own matters to attend to."

Lord Poe understood. He knew of the Haven for Wayward Girls and knew it was a necessary...well was evil the right word? Wold he rather the girls be on the streets or in homes or orphanages that did not care for them? "Right, to business then. I have a matter with a student that I need looked into."

Lady Rosemarie watched as the servant came in, tea in hand, and set it down before her. She poured herself a cup and added some milk. She sipped delicagtely, elongating the wait before she responded. "And what can I do about this?"

"The student's father is Edward Montague. He left to visit Lord Sidney Campbell. By all accounts, Lord Campbell met with Edward and he left, but no one has seen of him since. And as I am sure you are aware, the authorities are not too keen on looking into this further."

Lady Rosemarie sniffed. "Yes, we either have those damned Bow Street Runners making a mess of things or those in the upper echelons of law who care very little about those who are not part of the gentry. I assume this student brought their concerns to you?"

Lord Poe nodded. "They did. I promised I would look into it, but I cannot leave my duties here."

"And you assume my duties are so cavalier that they can be dropped at a moment's notice?"

"I meant no offense, Lady Rosemarie. I do not expect you to drop everything for this, but I know you have connections where I do not. I know you have trusted sources that could look into this without it impacting our respective duties."

"I should say so." She took a moment, in thought. "Do you suspect anyone?"

"Well, either Lord Campbell is lying and he did not meet with Edward, or he did and did something to him afterward. Or someone knew where he would be. There's also the possibility of the Dark Embers."

There was an inkling of something playing on Lady Rosemarie's features at the mention of the Dark Embers. "They have not done anything for a while now. Why do you suspect them?"

"There's rumors speculating something coming. An attack, a threat, something of that sort. Perhaps they kidnapped him and plan to ransom him? Or use him as a means to an end. I would hate to speculate further." Lord Poe knew the Dark Embers were not shy in what they did for their cause.

"Some say the Dark Embers are a necessary force. You and I both know our kind is not accepted, even amongst those who claim otherwise."

"I do know, but that does not mean they can run around and cause harm. That is not how change happens."

Lady Rosemarie let out a small chuckle. A smile on her lips. A rare sight. "Oh, Lord Poe. You truly are your father's child. IF I may speak freely, that is a naive outlook. Look at any historical event and see that change did not come with a whimper, but a roar. Change in our history has often come hand in hand with radicalization, whether it was noticed or not. Now I am not condoning attacks or large-scale wars, but to think change does not happen without some blood being shed, figuratively or not, is silly at best and dangerous at worst. You would do well to consider this going forward, especially for your students. You prepare them for the inevitability that they will go out into the world and achieve their goals. And yet, the world sees them as villains, nuisances, dangers. While progress has been made, and I am not so blind to see that is in large part to your's and your father's efforts, we are not there yet. You do well for your students, but you also throw them to the wolves and hope they can fight back. Some will thrive, others will fall. How many success' do you share at meetings with financial backers? How many stories of those who do not quite meet those requirements do you hide from them? I am not the pinnacle of morality, but I never claim to be. I know what must be done and I do it because otherwise, the people in my care die. You and I both know being a woman today is dangerous in its own right, let alone a woman with Enlightened abilities. Men at least have a chance to be something, even when they lack all the skills necessary. So, Lord Poe, let us not pretend that change does not happen without a little bloodshed. At the end of it, I would rather my enemies bleed than my allies."

She stood up. "I will look into this disappearance. If you have any other information, please send it over. I expect this not to be the last time I set foot in your school. Perhaps one day we may see eye-to-eye on things, but you know I can never forgive your father. The sins of the father follow the child, or whatever the saying is. You have a good thing here, Lord Poe. I would hate to see it crumble before it can truly shine." With a turn, she exited the room and made her way out of the school.

Lord Poe sat there for a few moments, weighing the words.



The library was not a hub of social interaction. A few students were there, reading or writing. However, in a small corner of the library was a conversation. Rumors abound in this school. It was almost as valuable as money.

"Did you hear about the circus?"

"My mother said circus folks are not to be trusted."

"Aye, but it is so much fun to watch!"

"I heard it is a den of sin. That they do..unspeakable things with each other."

"I heard their leader has a whip and trains them like animals."

"I think you all are nutters. It is fun, pure and simple."

"Do not be naive! I heard the Dark Embers have members in their ranks."

"That does not surprise me. They are all freaks of nature."

Giggles and guffaws were heard throughout the library. Were the rumors true?




Big Bulma sighed heavily. She hated to hear any of her ducks put themselves down. She knew Alphonse was feeling it. If he needed to aid others to make himself feel better, she would allow him that opportunity.

"Well, so far as I can tell, the family is more or less ready. Genevieve could use some help with her act, I suppose." Genevieve was a contortionist and gymnast, able to perform great feats on the ground and in the air. She had been traveling with them for a while now since she was picked up my Lord Maleficar after a night at an inn where Genevieve was being beaten by her husband. Genevieve was beautiful, to be sure, but her Enlightened ability made her dangerous to touch. Skin contact can paralyze the other person. She often wore gloves to protect this, but her husband complained so much that he could never have her for fear of dying. He had wanted children and she could not grant him this. Big Bulma did not ask how Lord Maleficar handled this.

"You could also see Cassiel and Obasi. They are probably practicing in the storage area, if I were to wager a guess. Apart from that, I think everything is more or less settled." She looked at Alphonse now. "Lovey, please know you are a vital member of our family. If you need help, you know you can ask."




Skills Used: Stealth

Prudence kept an eye on Morris as he worked. She had long been curious as to what he got to when alone in his workshop. Or as alone as he could be. Lady Rosemaries trusted him almost implicitly. She watched carefully. He hadn't noticed her. She heard him work, move, and command...something. A vicar? And what were those tools and things he kept.

She peeked around before she heard someone coming. She nearly fell, but held firm. Melody had walked past. Prudence held her breath. What was she doing here? She never would expect Melody and Morris to have much interaction. Darkness and light were opposites.

But a visit to the circus? That was interesting. Prudence had heard some of the girls talking about it. She wasn't thrilled, but a night out could be fun. If anything, perhaps she could get some practice of her own in? She started to creep away when her foot hit something off to the side and she fell with a rather loud thump.

Her veil of invisibility faded. She looked up at Morris and Melody, who definitely would see her lying there. "I can explain!" But, could she?
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Hidden 10 mos ago Post by Kirah
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Kirah Dragonbunny

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Charlotte

Lydia


Charlotte made her way to the library. She anticipated meeting Lydia in the library. Charlotte was already a little late. She had gotten distracted with the scene in the garden. She did not like being late, but there was nothing to fix that now. Charlotte hurried, arriving in the library a little short of breath.

The library was large, tastefully decorated, and a beautiful chandelier. There were small areas for studying, including by a fireplace. One of Charlotte’s favorite places during the colder months.

Loath to move as Lydia was, having her as a tutor meant meeting her at her habitual spot. Tucked away in a distant corner, it was, despite the nearby window, a bit dim for how the window never caught direct sunlight. It straddled a fine line between dreary and cozy. At Charlotte's arrival, Lydia’s mice scattered, and she promptly set aside her writings.

”Miss Wrottesley, forgive my tardiness,” she said, claiming a seat. She did not explain why she was late. ”I hope you have had a pleasant morning.”

Lydia nodded along as she collected her spread of texts, saved her place, and set them aside.

“You’ve never heard me complain about more time to read, have you?” she stated. She produced fresh pages from her notes and set them and her quill and ink on the table. “Now then, what are we reviewing today?”

Charlotte smiled, ”That is true.” Charlotte set her notes on the table, ”It would seem that we are doing—” Charlotte showed Lydia her notes.

“These would be cubic equations,” interrupted Lydia. She pointed with her pinkie at one of the equations Charlotte had written down. A little smile grew in the corner of Lydia’s mouth. “New material, excellent. How are you finding it? Specific points of trouble, or shall we go over the matter in full?”

Charlotte’s heart was racing, she felt trapped suddenly, like she needed to stand and pace around the room. She glanced out the window trying to compose herself. ”I do not understand how there are three or one answers. I am uncertain how to factorize. I...” She trails off. ”I am lost.”

Lydia nodded knowingly. She reviewed the notes in silence, occasionally nodding. In short order, she pushed the notes back and set blank paper in front of Charlotte.

“Let’s simplify all of this and start from the top, then.” She took her quill and wrote out an equation, reading it aloud as she wrote. “Two-X cubed, plus three-X squared, plus two-X, plus three equals zero. This is a basic cubic equation. Actually, let’s cross this out. Two-X cubed, plus three-X squared, plus four-X, plus five equals zero. These are both cubic equations, but this second one will make it easier for you. Now, a basic cubic equation follows the form of A-X cubed, plus B-X squared, plus C-X, plus D equals zero. So taking the equation from before, let’s compare. A is two and B is three. Do you follow? What is C, and what is D?”

Charlotte froze. How could anything with that many pluses equal zero? ”C is four and D is five?” Charlotte said uncertainty. It sounded fake. But also how did all that still equal zero? ”But, how? Does the cubing not make it bigger? I know to square something is part of the number. But if you are adding numbers together how do they equal zero?”

Lydia sighed and shook her head. “We’re drawing connections between a template and an example. Each letter is what we call a variable, which is a number that we don’t know the value of, but which remains consistent. Each number written to the left is multiplying that given variable by however many. So when I say Two-X cubed, what I am saying is that there is a number, X, which is being multiplied by itself three times—that being the meaning of the term cubed, and then that X-cubed is multiplied by two. X is the same each time it appears in the equation; what it’s multiplied by is what differs. Why is the result zero? That’s for us to find out using mathematical processes. But there should be at least some number, represented by X, that when put into this equation in the place of X, will result in this equation equalling zero. We see these other letters, A, B, C, and D in the cubic archetype because they’re stand-ins.

Now, with that said, let’s return to the task at hand. The way to solve these problems is by using Cardano’s Formula. According to Cardano, a cubic of the form one sees here will result in three potential values for x. I see your notes have the Proof for it. I ask you again, as I have many times. Do you feel it necessary to understand the Proof, or will the ability to use it suffice?”

”I would like to understand it. For now the ability to use it shall suffice,” Charlotte said. ”Letters substituting for an unknown variable is logical. However, there are so many unknowns here. Are we filling these with numbers that can be known when looking at something, or provided?”

“With Cardano’s Formula, the provided numbers are enough to determine the value of X,” Lydia replied. She pointed to Charlotte’s notes, “There are three equations we can use, one for each possible value of X. You can see, each requires use of A and B, but also new variables called S and T. That miniscule i there, do you remember what it represents?”

Charlotte’s hands under the table open and closed as she chewed her lip listening to Lydia and looking at the notes. ”The i is for imaginary numbers.” She had struggled with those, it seemed unreasonable to add something imaginary to maths.

Lydia delivered a curt nod. “S and T represent equations of their own. Each of these equations can be represented in terms of Q and R. Q and R are themselves shorthand for equations which express in terms of A, B, C, and D. This sounds absurd, doesn’t it? Here’s the reason this is done. It’s just breaking it into smaller pieces. One could instead take those first three equations for finding X and expand them to be only in terms of A, B, C, and D. But that would create ungainly monstrosities of numbers which are even harder to keep track of. Instead, let’s follow this example. So Q is equal to 3 times A times C, minus B-squared, and all of that is divided by 9 times A-squared. That is, Q is 3 times 2 times 4, minus 3-squared, all divided by 9 times 2-squared. Simplifying, Q is…24 minus 9—15, divided by 9 times 4—36. Q is 15 divided by 36. Do you follow?”

Charlotte’s feeling of being overwhelmed increased with each moment as Lydia explained. She could recite what Lydia had said, but if asked to explain it differently she could not. ”Can we do this with numbers so I see the process?” Her voice was a bit tight.

“That’s precisely what we’re doing. The formulae are such that one replaces letters with numbers as soon as they become known. So, where we started only knowing the values of A, B, C, and D, now we know Q. The next formula will give us a number with which to replace R. Then, we will have formulae to find S and T. When we have numbers for S and T, we can then find X. One could, instead of going step by step using these smaller equations, combine them all into one large equation. But that would be more confusing. It’s a game of crossing out letters and replacing them with numbers. Does that clarify?”

Charlotte nodded. ”It does.” She still was not excited about the formula, but at least now she might be able to start solving it. Charlotte at least had some experience with playing the crossing out game. This just was a lot longer than normal.

Lydia pointed to the formula for R. “Then, would you be so kind as to replace the letters with their appropriate numbers for this formula?”

Charlotte nodded again and took the pen and paper and started to work. Her stomach twisted a bit as she started working on it and she felt the need to shake her arms. She did twice when she got stuck on particularly annoying bits, but she did not ask Lydia for help. Her goal was to get as far as she could by herself. She would have to get some fresh air after this. On the plus side, everything that had happened between the garden earlier and these numbers and letters had fully driven her brother’s unopened letter from her mind.

Charlotte paused, lifting the pen slightly. She frowned, and went back over her equations. Something was off, but she was not certain what. ”I did something wrong.” She passed the paper to Lydia. ”I cannot find the error.”

Lydia reviewed Charlotte’s work, then produced a second sheet of paper. She replicated Charlotte’s work, did the arithmetic herself, then squinted again at Charlotte’s work. “Arithmetic. That’s all. 2 cubed is 8, and 8 times 54 is…432. Then we reduce. We’ll divide the top and bottom by 2, and call negative 179 divided by 236 good enough. Now, you have Q and R.” Lydia copied down her result onto the main page, then pointed at the equations for S and T. “We can find these values now. Don’t worry so much about the arithmetic. We can do that in our own time. But do you see? S will be the cube root of R, plus the cube root of the sum of Q-cubed and R-squared. T will be the cube root of R, minus the cube root of the sum of Q-cubed and R-squared. It’s a formidable-looking equation, but only three values to fill in for each. That’s all you need to do. Leave the fractions as they are, and replace the letters with their respective values. Now show me you understand what I’m asking of you.”

Charlotte took a slow breath, nodded, and took over the pen and paper again. She hated this. Her body seemed to be slightly offset from where she was supposed to be. It took her a bit longer this time, but she got the equation down to its non-simplified version. She felt more confident at the end of it, though she knew she would have to do several of these as practice prior to her next maths class. ”How is that?” she slid her paper back to Lydia.

“Excellent. Now, we can find X.”
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Hidden 10 mos ago → 10 mos ago Post by Blizz
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Blizz Archmage of the Fucking Universe / Etc

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Location: The Haven



The door slid shut of its own volition. A heavy click marked it as being closed and locked, immediately after Melody had announced herself. The room was cold. The gas lamps lining the walls were more for light than warmth, reflective surfaces polished into brass that let the light shine over the floor enough for work to be done and little more to offer. Only dead things lay in here, this glorified crypt Morris called a workspace. Morris wheeled around when he heard his name, tense and caught off guard. He didn't have any conniptions with Melody, she was always decent enough to get along with on the occasions they had to interact.

But he looked cornered for a brief moment.

"Melody- Ms. Heathering..." What was going on in his head? Was he about to kill her for stumbling upon his work and seeing how gruesome and dark his Enlightenment could be? Was he simply vexed by the intrusion? He never liked being disturbed. The chemicals he worked with to get just the right conditions under which his abilities could manifest, the air of death tied to him, it wasn't pleasant to him anymore than it was to others. He kept the cards close for reasons.

Behind him, something a head taller and profoundly gaunt was moving. It was skeletal, bearing a head with antlers sawed off to the stumps. The bones of its hands resembled that of a human, or perhaps a bear. It paid no mind to Melody, silently stepping across the floor without so much as a clink of bone on bone. It moved with an odd grace, long limbs collecting vials in one hand, a disc of ivory in the other.

For a quiet moment, he didn't say anything.

"...Yes. Of course," Morris answered, at last. "I am... Preoccupied at the moment, but I can escort you there shortly. If you would, have the others joining you be ready to leave in-"

He stopped talking when Prudence appeared and hit the ground. The door hadn't been opened again, and that meant she had slipped inside when he wasn't looking. He was a little careless entering here, it seemed.

The pokerface turned to an indignant look. "You were spying on me?"
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Hidden 10 mos ago Post by Memoria
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Memoria Someone's Bookish Flower Bride 🐸

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Present - Late Morning 《》 Lady Melody Heathering 《》 The Haven for Wayward Girls 《》Melody@MemoriaPrudence@PatientBeanMorris@Blizz
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The moment Morris gave his faint agreement—his consent cloaked in duty rather than delight—Melody offered no exuberant thanks, only the softest smile, like the end of a lullaby. “That is most reassuring,” she murmured, her voice a silken thread stitched into the bustle of the room. “I believe the girls will be safer with your presence."

She was gathering her gloves when movement caught the edge of her vision, a tall, skeletal figure with great antlers, moving near soundlessly across the far end of the room. It moved with such eerie poise that it seemed not to walk but to drift, each step too elegant for the mortal world. Melody’s eyes lingered a moment, reflective as polished glass. Curiosity flickered in her, but she let it pass, for something else pulled her gaze.

A sudden thump broke the hush. Prudence had tripped, laying sprawled across the polished floor, her invisibility unraveling like mist in sunlight. She blinked up at them, all gangly limbs and wounded pride, at least from what Melody could reckon.

Morris’s scolding came next, taut and weary, but Melody did not join in. Instead, she let out a quiet, knowing chuckle, the kind that suggested she'd seen this play before and would see it again. “I expect we’ll see you again soon, Miss Havesford,” she said, her tone lilting like bells at twilight. “I’ll be gathering all the girls by evening. Best compose yourself, my dear.”

And with that, she turned and left the cold, isolated room. No rustle of skirts, no click of heels, only the hush that follows a candle being blown out.

Evening arrived like a whispered spell. At the edge of the city, Lady Melody stood before the circus gates, where gilded light curled around iron bars and ghostly music hummed like a song remembered from a fevered dream. Dusk was no longer a color but a mood, the sky a lilac bruise laced with peach and sorrow. Those colors reflected in the mystical center of her irises. Her eyes were full of witchlight.

Mr. Maleficar's Traveling Circus was already alive with flickering lanterns and twirling shadows. Glowing orbs floated like tetherless stars, and the air was perfumed with roasted sugar and something stranger, wild and unspoken.

Yet beneath the enchantment, Melody felt...off-kilter. The sensation stirred just behind her ribcage, as if her heart had skipped a note in some divine composition. Her eyes shifted, irises turning silver as the threads of magic thickened in the air. Something about the place whispered of illusion—not the joyous kind, but the sort spun to obscure rather than delight.

Still, the girls were alight with joy. Some clung to one another, pointing and gasping; others skipped ahead too eagerly, their laughter shrill and echoing like windchimes tossed in a gale. A few were already causing a ruckus, drawn to the spectacle like moths to flame. Melody was subtle to reprimand them, not wanting to draw attention. Among them, Eliza clung tight to Melody’s hand, her small fingers wound with fierce trust. She hadn’t yet found her footing at the Haven, and it was only Melody she followed without question. Melody’s thumb gently stroked the back of her hand in reassurance, as steady and natural as breathing.

They were soon to pass through the gates, and though Melody’s chin was high and her poise unbroken, she noticed the stares. Whispers. A woman too still, too composed, too elegant, too dark for a place of raucous color and chaotic joy and boundless money. Her gown caught the lamplight strangely; her gaze, unblinking and silver, unsettled.

But she did not waver.

As the lights twinkled and music burst into bloom from within, the swell of color and sound washed over her. A shiver passed through her. It was a rare thing, not of fear, but something like excitement. Unfamiliar. Not entirely unwelcome.

The circus was about to open.

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Hidden 10 mos ago Post by SilverPaw
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SilverPaw

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Jo Montague
Jo Montague

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Jo left headmaster Poe’s office feeling buoyed, a pep in his step. The lord had actually listened, and had even promised to help! He wouldn’t leave it all in the principal’s hands, of course, but he could rest easy, at least for a bit. A light heart was to be treasured, as he and his father both agreed. He was in the mood to thoroughly explore the grounds, and he indulged the impulse, starting with the dormitories.

He marveled at the room he was given. Not because it was better furnished than the one in his home – it could not be, with Edward Montague’s years of efforts to make him feel at home, and Jo’s own touch adding to it – but because the knowledge that every single student had a room like this boggled the mind. He had seen the staggering size of the whole school building, he had, but it was quite another thing to have something with which to put it in concrete terms.

His dorm room was a pleasant contrast of dark floors, creamy walls, and light wood furniture. Jo removed his boots and socks, diggings his toes into the plush rug at the foot of his bed. He opened his trunk, and took his time depositing most of his things into their places; into the empty wardrobe, on the smooth beech study desk, books on their shelves, writing materials, a few stray coins, a deck of cards, cosmetic kit, and other miscellanea into the drawers, and so on. Among his wardrobe was a bunch he kept well hidden: wearable padding constructed in such a manner that none would question his masculinity as well as several sets of wrapping for his chest. He was fortunate that he was not well endowed in that area, but the bindings were useful at times. As always, he kept a few travel essentials in the suitcase in case he needed to leave unexpectedly.

When all was as suited them, Jo sidled up to the window, opened it, and took a peek outside. Balconies were few and far between, which was a shame. Still barefoot, they crouched onto the windowsill. A quick glance confirmed no nosy dormmates happened to be near their windows. They sidled up to the wall, toed to the nearest pilaster, and clambered up using it and the window’s trim for purchase. There were plenty of convenient handholds in the form of cornices, generous ledges, and minute ornaments. The difficult part wasn’t getting up, it was doing it unnoticed. Caution, practice, and fortune held true, and they were soon up on the roof.

Up on the slanted shingles, he stretched out with a weathervane-bearing cupola at his back, as secure up here as if he were on the grounds below. He could see far and wide, from the rolling fields of grass, to the manicured garden, to the sprawling estate surrounding them. It was a nice, calm space here – maybe he’d make it his usual smoking haunt.

Once he’d got his fill of watching from the dorm’s roof, he returned to his room to collect his shoes, and took a stroll along the grounds. He had the general sense of the layout now, but he’d get a better feel down below. Still, when he came across a row of ornamental pillars, he couldn’t help himself. He climbed one up, noticed that another had a hole on its top, and leaped to it.

Oh, what a fun place to discover!

A cozy hideout with a blanket, pillow, and evidence of snacking involved. There was a locked journal inside, and their fingers itched to pick its lock, but they stayed their hands. Jo was inclined to meet whoever was staying here, so they would not steal from the stranger – yet. The youth withdrew the pin from his tie, unearthed a stray piece of paper in his vest, and scratched out ‘Jo’ on it. He placed the introductory slip atop the stranger’s journal, then left their lair.

Jo strolled on the grounds, and noticed a few groups of students clustered here and there. Friends? Gossips? They did not know. What they did hear was speculation on the circus, which had just come in town. They’d go see what it was about when opportunity arose, but they were far from done exploring the immediate surroundings of their newest space of habitation.

They ventured into the garden, admiring the botanist’s skills and sense of aesthetic, when they happened upon a hole in one of its corners. An empty hole. Was the person not done digging yet? Would they hide something in there or had they already taken something out of it? Was it for some other purpose? Jo figure they might come this way another time to check.

They spent a good few hours familiarizing themselves with the school grounds, but as far as they were concerned, that was merely the initial sweep. It would take days, weeks, perhaps longer before they felt comfortably acquainted with St. Eustice’s School for the Enlightened.
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Hidden 10 mos ago Post by Theyra
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Theyra

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Eldemir Akinci

Location: St. Eustace's School

""

What a good book, Eldemir thought, as he was busy reading it. He always seems to find the good ones at the school's library. Though he wondered how much time he as left of his break time. So he checked his pocket watch, saw his time at the library was almost done. As he got up and went to deposit his book where a librarian could return it to the right bookshelf. Eldemir could not help but overhear what the students in the library were gossiping about.

Eldemir would only sigh at the words he heard. Though the students did not say the name of the circus, he knew which one they were talking about. The only one that mattered, Mr. Maleficar's Travelling Circus. Eldemir knows that the circus is in town, but he has never been to that circus before. But he has heard of the circus's reputation and what other rumors there were about the circus. An Enlightened circus where not even the real name of its owner is known.

Though it made him think when a student brought up that the Dark Embers had members in the circus. Dark Embers, Eldemir bitterly thought in his head. Would he be surprised if there were Dark Embers members in the circus? No, Eldemir would not, given all of the rumors about it. The only good thing he can think of is that the Enlightened who work there at least have some employment and are among Enlightened people. Though how good that life is and how close they are, Eldemir can only guess.

Which gave him an idea, perhaps, since the circus is in town. Maybe he can check it out after work, see how good of a circus this circus is. See how the Enlightened there are, and more if he feels like it.

However, for now, Eldemir has to contend with teacher responsibilities, and his next student has their own challenge with mastering their power. So Eldemir returned the book and left the library. Mentally preparing himself for his next student, and when night comes. Seeing what will await him at the circus.
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Hidden 10 mos ago Post by Lunari
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Lunari Astral Emissary

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Character Sheet
THE LIBRARY WHISPERS
LOCATION: ST. EUSTICE'S SCHOOL FOR THE ENLIGHTENED - LORD POE'S OFFICE


Selina lingered in Lord Poe's office only as custom required. She allowed her teacup to rest silently in its saucer, finishing the last modest sip before folding her gloves over her palm. When the conversation turned to others, she gave a slight nod. It was neither dismissal nor engagement.

When Lord Poe gave signal to the end of their discussion, Selina was the first to stand up. She couldn't quite put her finger on it, Lord Poe’s words were perfectly crafted, but something in the air between them never settled. Not fear. Not distaste. Just... unmoored.

She thanked him with a quiet courtesy and left with a grace honed into muscle memory. Her steps down the corridor echoed against polished stone, steady and measured, valise in hand. A wave of fatigue washed over her, discomfort abrading in her chest.
LOCATION: ST. EUSTICE'S SCHOOL FOR THE ENLIGHTENED - SELINA'S ROOM
Selina made it to her assigned dorm room with little troubles. The room she was given was modest by noble standards, but clean and well-kept. A fireplace framed in black marble sat opposite a writing desk already prepared with parchment and sealed ink. She laid her travel case on the bed, removed her gloves, and allowed her fingers a slow stretch. She took note of the drawer lock. Weak. Too easily opened.

Selina didn’t unpack.
Instead, she turned and made her way down the hall once more, this time with more purpose.
LOCATION: ST. EUSTICE'S SCHOOL FOR THE ENLIGHTENED - LIBRARY
The library called to her not with grandeur, but certainty. Walls of dark wood and dust-polished spines - structured, silent, and sensibly ordered. The light here was gentler. No interrogation. No performance. Even the air shifted differently.

She moved like she belonged, tracing a finger along the edge of a shelf before slipping into a corner alcove surrounded by histories and philosophy. A chess set, slightly incomplete, sat abandoned beneath a small oil lamp. She spared it only a glance.

Voices murmured nearby. Not loud, not meant to carry. But the acoustics of the reading chamber turned whispers into threads of clarity if you knew how to listen.

“-girls, all gone wide-eyed. Practically enchanted.”
“She brought them herself. Took them right to the front gates.”
“Is it true what they say? That the circus isn’t just-”
“Entertainment? Please. With what happened in Dover? I’m saying it’s unnatural. You don’t glow like that unless you’re hiding something.”

A chair scraped back. Footsteps shifted.

Selina’s spine remained straight, her hands neatly folded before her. She gave no reaction, save for a tiny shift of her eyes toward the row separating her from the speakers.

“Mr. Maleficar’s circus doesn’t travel for coin. That’s all I’m saying. It travels for something.”

Then laughter. But not mirthful, but thin, strained, like paper left too long in the sun. Moments later, the voices were gone. Selina didn’t move for some time. When she finally did, it was only to pick up the bishop from the half-complete chess set and held it in her palm.

“An unlikely battlefield,” she murmured to herself. “But not one without strategy.”

The circus. A glow. Something about it all sounded... curated. Like a trap set with ribbons and candy for the Enlightened. And yet, Lord Poe hadn’t said a word. She placed the bishop back on the board. Moved a pawn one square forward. Then stood, composed as ever, and left the library without a sound.



Character Sheet
THE RABBIT AND HAWK
LOCATION: ???


He lingered a moment longer in the stillness, the fog lapping softly at his boots like the tide of some phantom sea. The rabbit was gone, just a flash of fur, a whisper of leaves disturbed. A harmless thing. But it was enough to remind him. It never took much.

The tension still clung to him like dew, fine and invisible, but present all the same. Leonard exhaled slowly, tasting the stale iron of his breath. The mist around him was beginning to thin now, wisps unravelling and curling away into the cold wind, drawn to some unspoken vanishing point beyond the trees. He didn’t refresh it, letting it fade.

He didn’t need the fog anymore, not now. Not here. The perimeter was clear, the sweep done and the eerie, indifferent silence of land left untouched, was proof enough.

Leonard crouched briefly to adjust the laces of his boot, fingers quick, gloved and mechanical. He didn’t glance up as he did it. There was no need. Whatever might’ve been out here had already decided not to be found. And if something was watching? Let it.

Rising, he took a moment to stretch out the tightness in his spine, rolling his neck side to side until something cracked softly beneath the skin. The aches weren’t new. They came with the sleep-deprived nights, the damp quarters, the hard beds and harder conversations. But lately, it felt deeper. Less like strain, more like slow rot. A bone-deep weariness disguised as resolve.

His fingers drifted to his hip, brushing the hilt of his sabre, then away again. No need. He began the walk back.

The fog peeled away behind him as he moved, leaving only the faintest trace in the grass and low shrubs, as though a ghost had passed through but hadn’t stayed long enough to settle. His boots made little sound against the wet earth, and his shadow lengthened with each step, chasing after the morning sun that had started clawing through the clouds.

The trees thinned. He passed a crooked fence long since overtaken by ivy, half-rotted, leaning like a drunkard toward the hills. A few crows perched on the posts, silent, their eyes black with too much knowing. One of them let out a soundless caw as he passed, its beak open but voiceless in the wind. He didn’t break stride. The open field beyond looked the same as it had for weeks: mud, scrub, and frost-wilted flowers that never bloomed. In the far distance, the rise of the ridge where the others had set camp came into view: tents like huddled ghosts, smoke rising thin and pale into the high grey sky.

He wasn’t in a hurry. He never hurried.

The General would be waiting - either impatient or unreadable, depending on the hour. Leonard didn’t care to guess. He’d face it like he always did: one boot forward, one brow raised, voice clean, spine straight. Whatever fresh orders were waiting would be dressed in military language and stale diplomacy, but underneath? It was always the same: move. Watch. Kill. Or disappear.

The wind shifted behind him. He didn’t look back.

Instead, he muttered something under his breath in old German softer than a prayer, though not quite sacred. The kind of thing a man says to the fog when he's walked with it long enough to believe it listens. The sky above broke just slightly, a weak crack of pale sunlight pushing through. It cast no warmth, but it gave the landscape edges again.

Leonard adjusted the fall of his coat and pressed forward, leaving the ghost of the fog behind him.
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Hidden 9 mos ago Post by PatientBean
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Opening Day


Everything had been finalized. Stands were set up, acts were practicing until the last minute, and it was magic incarnate. Say what you will about Lord Maleficar, he ran a tight ship. Opening day was always a bundle of nerves. Everyone was running around to ensure it was all in place. One figure was Big Bulma. She had no intention of being in the spotlight today. Instead, she was content to see everyone enjoying the limelight and impressing the crowds.

The evening soon rolled around, and people started appearing in large numbers. London had never had a circus so close to it before. Rumors were rampant, of course. How it was filled with Enlightened freaks with nowhere else to go. How many of them were criminals or worse. But despite the air of dread, smiles were abundant.

In the center of the circus was the big top tent where one could see a variety of acts perform. The main show would not be starting for some time, but some made a beeline there so they could get good seats. On the outskirts were various stands selling different foods, some the people of London had never heard of before. As the circus traveled they picked up varying delicacies from the different countries. There were also games of chance where you could win a prize or two, if you had incredible luck. There were performers walking about as well. Contortionists, clowns, gymnasts, magicians, all sorts showing off their specialties to the delight of the people.

It was a well-oiled machine when the circus got running.

Lord Maleficar stood at the front gate, adorned with a top hat and a mischievous grin. As he spoke, there was a hint of an accent that could not be placed unless one strained to hear it. "Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to Lord Maleficar's traveling circus! Please make your way to the main tent in an hour's time for the grand opening show. Feats of strength unlike any you have seen before. Death-defying stunts high above you. Animals and humans working in tandem to astound and delight. All of this and more." The charismatic head of the circus put on a great performance himself. He took his cane and spun it in his hand as he launched it. As the cane dropped, it broke apart, pieces of metal circling and spinning, lights crackling off the pieces as it spun faster until it launched back at Lord Maleficar, who deftly caught it as the cane formed itself again. He grinned with a sly wink. "And who knows, there may be a surprise or two if you know where to look."



A group of people stood in a semi-circle on the outskirts. They remained unseen by the swarms of people walking towards the lights and flash of the circus. These people wore dark cloaks covering their bodies and masks to hide their faces. Despite the anonymity, they did wear an identifiable mark on their cloaks, a picture of a raven holding a purple gem.

"When do we strike?" one of the figures asked.

The others looked around. It was unclear who was the leader here, if there even was one. "Does anyone know where.."

Their words were quickly hushed when one of the other figures backhanded the speaker, enough to cause them to stumble and fall back. "We do not use names. Do so again and I will strike you down here and now."

The others started murmuring, but were quickly silenced again when someone else spoke. This one with authority. "We wait. Let the masses enjoy themselves first. So far things are going to plan. Soon they will know the truth."

The group nodded their understanding. Word had gone around and people flocked to the circus. One of their leaders had done their job beautifully.



Prudence had been admonished. Morris had unleashed his own personal hell on her, which wasn't as bad as the disappointment he etched on his face. And not to speak of Melody, who she knew would never outwardly judge her, but the dread seeped in nonetheless.

So Prudence came with them, unwillingly but here regardless, to the circus. If for no other reason than to show she meant no harm, but she was sure Morris wanted to keep an eye on her. Prudence hated what the circus stood for. Was it not hard enough for the Enlightened without being made a mockery for other people's delight? She imagined the people here against their will, having no place to go because of their deformities or their background or because something in their past prevented their future.

Perhaps Prudence hated it most of all because, if things had gone differently, she would be amongst them.

Prudence heard the giggles of little children as they enjoyed treats and were amazed by the different people walking around. Prudence couldn't help but feel worried. Was this an omen or was she just upset she had to be here? Possibly both.

Prudence eyed the man in front of the circus. The handsome character served as the ringleader. Lord Maleficar. She had heard whispers from the other girls at the Haven, though most of it was how attractive he was and how well he would be in the bedroom. Prudence glared at him and, for a moment, she was sure he looked at her and met her gaze. A dark feeling overwhelmed her as she returned her attention to the other girls she was with.

Something was going to happen tonight. She was sure. Who would believe her though?
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