[hr][hr] [center] [img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/01989bb2-ff31-778e-aace-bbd2c65febf4.webp[/img] [hr] [color=8a9a5b]Location:[/color] Hall of Ancients, Strange Academy [color=8a9a5b]Grimore:[/color] [color=8a9a5b]Skills:[/color] Probability Hex (Amber, Sandlewood, and Moss) [/center] [hr][hr] The events of last night had allowed Barty to start the new year in good spirits. Waking up just the same in the afterglow of euphoria, he decidedly went about his morning as he would any other. Staring down his wardrobe as he debated on what to wear and what was best suited for the day's events, he'd finally decided on something a bit more modern. Or as modern as a centuries old witch could be. He had a faded black David Bowie shirt with the short sleeves rolled up and above his shoulder, each safely secured by a safety pin, paired with his faded torn jeans and his Docs. His usual hex bag hung at his side with several others hidden amongst his person. A good witch was never without their resources. As he made his way towards where they were meant to gather, he thought about the task at hand so far. A statue cursed with madness that had survived almost as long as he had. What were they meant to do with such a thing? What purpose did this doddering old vamp have for them? He didn't like it, but he was certainly intrigued. As he entered he was met with the familiar warmth of Connie and the equally familiar cold of Croan. No instructions yet, simply examine as you please. Connie went about her way to study and analyze as needed via a plethora of notes that she'd eventually make in duplicate, Jake had decided to touch the statue with a gloved hand and speak to it (Barty decided to hold back an eye roll at this companion), and Pedro…was missing. Strange. But the lack of existence of another was not for Barty's concern or care. He had a task and as he opened his eyes to see the magic before him, what he saw was…perplexing. Curses were ugly things, dark knotted roots or tendrils of vile scents that wrapped around its victims choking them without their notice. They clung to you like a demon out of limbo gripping the backs of their victims. But this…this was made of golden thread and starlight, or at least the runes before it were. Barty bit his lip as his hand absentmindedly pulled out a small orb of amber, attempting to cast a probability hex on himself. The amber began to spark and smoke as the magic fought back at him, but Barty was always one to save face. Quickly he pulled out sandalwood and Moss, placing it over the burning amber to amplify the powers to drive out the darkness and bring forth prosperity in luck. The scents of incense mixed with his own as he took the smoke and reached out to the statue with it. His own magic interacting with that of the enchanter who made this statue. Again, he watched as the woven magic within the statue was made of golden threads and starlights, uncharacteristic of curses. Barty felt a tug, looking down he watched as a sliver of his own magic slipped from him and was taken in by the statue, slithering deep within the golden threads. He quickly pulled his hand back as he took a step away. [Color=8a9a5b]”It was said this statue was cursed, but this is unlike any curse I've ever seen. Its sigils, its magic, all appear to…other. I see no smoke or demons, no knots or tendrils, only golden threads that pull on my own and starlight as serene as a clear sky.”[/color] [center][img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/0198b4a8-8da6-76ab-ad78-99409e31ac48.webp[/img][/center][center][/center][hr][center][color=CC99FF][b]Location[/b][/color]: Stands [color=00f0ff][b]Skills[/b][/color]: Franklin[/center] [hr][hr] The morning had begun to roll in and as Frankie awoke he found himself alone in his room. Neither Annika nor Jake seemed to be there, then as he tried to think on it he didn't believe he heard Annika make her way back last night. Franklin hoped she wasn't lost within the hallways of this school, Jake seemed to have been. He let out a sigh as he rubbed the sleep away from his eyes before stretching out wide with a loud yawn. Lips smacking as he turned to notice Igor was sitting at the foot of his bed scurrying back and forth. Franklin reached out for his glasses, placing them on before staring at his familiar. “What's wrong? You look like you've seen the dead.” Igor began his flurry of squeaks and critters, explaining to Franklin how Jake had just sat there, watching him, all night (or at the very least the better part of it). Frankie didn't know what to make of it, should he be frightened? Threatened? Charmed by the notion? Sure Jake was handsome, but so were some serial killers. “I'll have to deal with that later. I haven't even had a morning potion, but I guess we can keep a closer eye on him if needed.” He got up, stretching once more, as he made his way and began to freshen up and change. He elected out of his usually baggy clothes, knowing that they may be needing to do experiments. Donning his own lab coat that he'd had as he buttoned it up before wrapping his goggles around the high collar that covered his neck. His hair was pulled back much in the same fashion that Rohan did, keeping it away from his face and more importantly open flames. Gloves stashed into his coat pocket before he picked up his doctor's bag full of supplies and made his way out. Franklin followed the instructions towards where he needed to be. Annoyed at the times they proved to be incorrect before scribbling in the truth next to it so that he wouldn't need to deal with it again. He'd have to compare notes with the others to see if there was a set pattern or if certain pieces changed randomly. In the room Sariel gave the basic safety speech, nothing he didn't already know or figure. His eyes cared more to wander towards the instruments strewn about the room. Spiderwebbed tubing pumping magical power from one location to another, and three timers set above three experiments. His attention snapped back as she began to speak again, more dangers towards this material. [i]What was it?[/i] They stepped into the next room and everything felt so overwhelming. His eyes danced around from one object to another before landing upon the lon table that ran one length, he wasn't aware if there was any pattern to the madness before him, but if there was he mind hadn't been able to piece it together upon seeing it. He wanted to be the one to answer Rohan, to tell him why they were there and the significance, but he had nothing. Whereas Rohan worked on artifacts, Frankie's expertise was more in the likes of the tubing and energy generation happening above them.