Location: Library Grimoire: N/A Skills: N/A Current Outfit
Cassie fought off a blush as Cal got ever so close to her, pinpointing her efforts in trying to impress Professor Mikkail. "Oh wow, he's so close to me now. Don't smell him, that would be weird. Look smart, look sophisticated, look like you belong here my goodness his eyes, you could just get lost in them....no FOCUS, Cassie, you are here to learn about magic and how to use it," Cassie's inner monologue was going haywire.
As she se foot in the library, Cassie was overtaken with a new sensation: absolute wonder. She had expected the library to be wondrous, but didn't quite know how to picture it. As much as she wanted to maintain focus on Cal's features, Cassie found it hard to focus on anything other than the sheer knowledge in front of her.
Cal quickly gave off assignments, and Casse figured he knew best in this situation. She and Willow were tasked with various information gathering, while Nick and Cal went off alone together, and Cassie fought off a wave of envy. She had known the two of them were....close. Closer than her mind would allow her to perculate. Perhaps if she found the information asked for, not only would she impress Professor Mikkail, but Cal also and he would forget about whatever Nick offered him and allow her to permeate his....thoughts.
So, she got to work. She quickly found a lot of information. The Witch Trials, she knew, was a heavy topic with tons of research done about it. It only made sense a school for magic would have tons of texts about it (though, she noted, some of the scrolls seemed to be made of... human flesh? She quickly avoided thinking about that too heavily). Still, the sheer amount of information was sure to be helpful, so she gathered as many texts as she could hold and walked over to a nearby table, laying it out.
What she hadn't found so easily was any mention of Krodha. What that had to do with anything wasn't immediately apparent, but Cassie thought more about it. Was it a planet that the Professor came from? It would stand to reason that was why Cal was so interested. Plus, it could serve Cassie well to understand her professor more. It occurred to her that Krodha might be what people outside of the planet called it, but it would not be in the original language used. She knew from some experience with astral charts and planet alignment (her parents forbade it as "whimsical nonsense") that it might be easy to find such information in the Astronomy section.
Cassie quickly made her way over and began scanning the section. Cross-referencing the materials in front of her, she was able to quickly find the information she needed. It seemed the planet, in the original tongue, was named Auril. Now that she had it in hand, she began to walk over to the table she had piled the history texts on when she decided, no, this was important. Cal wanted to know more about the planet and she had found something. So she decided to surprise him as she made her way over to the language section. "He's going to be so impressed with me!"
Willow managed to catch up with the others, and sighed softly as she kept a bit of distance as the others spoke. She could tell that Nicky and Cal were talking about something, until Cassie asked something as well. Willow had to chuckle to herself a bit, and focused up. As much as she wanted to have a moment alone with Cassie, once they reached the library it seemed that it was time to be serious. She gently set her bag down on a table, and gently shifted Luna to her shoulder.
The moth was clearly a little irritated at all the language earlier it had to read, and couldn't make sense of and was pouting a bit on Willow's shoulder. Willow reached up and patted her back softly, silently promising her all the treats she could eat later. As Cal spoke, dividing up tasks, Willow nodded. "Sure, we can go try to find something. I can't promise much though." She shrugged a bit at that and headed off into the stacks.
The books swirled into her mind as she headed towards the history section, with the most recent history being on display first. She was admittedly curious to learn more about the history outside of her beloved forest, but that would have to be for another time. For the day, she had to focus on Heinrich Krammer and his infamous book, or supposedly infamous book. Willow knew she was missing a chunk of context there, and would have to study more about the witch hunts...
As her mind turned to that, her magic began to swirl around her, threads crossing and connecting in a dizzying tapestry of color, sound, and scents, the cacophony of heartbeats and the waves of emotions rolling across her minds eye until it settled down and in her hands she held two threads, both lead the way to the history section. She could follow the threads and paused as she held onto them and felt them diverge, and found herself at what was almost an impossible choice.
One thread was too perfect. The final breaths of Heinrick Krammer were calling to her. A journal perhaps? But the second... the fire was lapping at her skin again, and she could hear that same sizzling from the night before. A woman... being burned alive. The roar of the pyre was deafening, and it shook Willow to her core. After the vision she had from that candy last night, the second thread was begging to be followed.
Willow stood there, the threads in her hands, and knew the second she followed one, the other would be lost to her. But which to chose? Her coven project, or her personal one?
She took a deep breath and then dropped the thread of the poor woman being burned alive. "Another day, I promise. I am so sorry... but I cannot fail them on the first day." She whispered as the thread vanished, and the roar of the fire died down, and all she could hear were the final breaths of a dying Krammer. She followed the thread until she found it... a journal tucked away into the history section. As she tugged it out, the name was there, as clear as day. Henricus Institoris, or Heinrick Krammer. " Found you."
Location: Hall of Ancients, Strange Academy Grimore: Skills:
Regardless of the gripes Barty had against the pompous old fool, they still held something in common. Their long lived lives were rarely shared amongst those whose own was but a second of their time. He felt his words hold steady in the vampires heart and tug on the strings of eld. Bingo. ”Perhaps a little reading will be in order too, some history could enlighten us as to what sort of artifacts were floating around that area within that time period. The artifact itself may have been a form of Trojan Horse by that very same Lord he wished to break bread with.”
Barty moved around the statue once more. He knew not to press his magic when it was fighting back this much. ”Réorientation would work too. Perhaps a ladder or spell to help give me height. Maybe we aren't looking at the weave from the correct angle. I assume every student that has attempted this had been grounded and on level at best with this artifact, yes?” Barty turned and looked towards Croan once more for affirmation. If he was correct then perhaps an aerial view was what was needed to advance.
“Previous covers have attempted such a thing. The last one sought to map out all the markings and lines, but too many brushes with the statue left two of them dead and another mad. The last sane one opted to resign from school entirely.” Croen offered Barty before turning his attention to Jake.
“Perhaps. I hadn't met him before his entrapment but it was all for naught; that village no longer stands. A flood three years later wiped it from the face of the earth. His sacrifice offered them some time, but was the cost worth it?” Croen looked down at Connie. “And your scribbling, Ms. Winterhop? What sense are you making in your hesitancy?”
A Trip through Magic
Willow, Nicky, Callaghan, Cassiopeia
Nicholas raised an eyebrow as his question was avoided. Clearly, Cal didn't care to include their new colleagues in this - strange for a shifter who loved community and sharing. Cal's defenses were up and that meant Nicholas was on the line for soothing down his scales. Nicholas only nodded as Cal divided out tasks, eyes drifting down and up the shifter. Nicholas took in the marks they'd left on him last night and he felt heat simmer low in his belly at the thought. Maybe a distraction would calm him. Nicholas certainly wouldn't mind being caught in the stacks.
Nicholas followed him into Language, a soft caress along Cal's arm reassuring him he was here to listen and he leaned against the bookshelf. “Strange behavior from a strange man. Most people would write it off as his eccentricities. Why aren't you?”
The walk from Astronomy to Language wasn't short by any means, but the bend and shift of the hallways made it seem longer. Various students and teachers passed by, a quick hi or a nod before they scurried on with their own studies, and finally the plaque could be seen in the distance.
The journal of Kramer was a beat up, torn book. A quick flip through showed neat, tidy hand writing revolving into crazies, frantic handwriting in symbols and shapes that blurred the longer one looked at it. It was warm to the touch and the faint smell of brimstone wafted from it.
Into the Unknow
Rohan, Finley/Dysphoria, Frankie, Annika
Dysphoria held their ground at Rohan's not so veiled implications, Finley cradled carefully inside them. They did not care for what was in the woodling. It had tried to snatch their Darling from them and Dysphoria trembled with the effort it took not to pounce. But Finley's reassurance and warmth settled them enough to painstakingly retract, revealing Finley to the room once more. Dysphoria's tendrils were still wrapped around the Fey at odd intervals, almost flat to skin, and Dysphoria nuzzled into the crook of Finley's neck. “Neither chains of magic nor might will hold you as long as I am here.” Dysphoria promised, almost mullishly at their claim being challenged. “Darling, may we find some time alone today?”
Location: Primary Artificer Laboratory, Strange Academy Grimore: Skills: N/A Fit
Annika’s mind whirled around while she thought about how to construct the right side of the heart. Her mind warred between wanting to make it aesthetically pleasing and functional. Her body seemed to move on autopilot while her mind was elsewhere. Annika picked up a knife near her workstation, cleaned it with the antiseptic Franklin had used, and approached Rohan. Nochella meowed, pulling Annika from her thoughts. She glanced around, dazed, before she realized what she held and where she stood.
”Oh. Do you mind?” Annika asked. She pushed up the sleeve of her shirt before presenting her arm and blade to Rohan like an offering. ”I’m not squeamish. I just don’t think I can do it myself.” And I’d rather you do it than the freaky Fae in the corner eyeing me like their own personal blood bag, Annika thought to herself.
Location: Library, Strange Academy Grimore: Skills: Fit
Cal walked quickly to the language section after the others had split off. He muttered to himself, a few stray words of Spanish infiltrating his monologue. As soon as they reached the correct section, Cal’s eyes flicked rapidly back and forth across the book titles. He scanned row after row, familiar with the way the archivists catalogued their books. The touch to Cal’s arm had him pause briefly. He looked at Nick, blinking as he remembered why he wanted to get Nicky alone, before he continued in his search.
”He’s eccentric yes, but that is normal for Mikkail. No. Something’s wrong. He tried to shift while we were in his office. If he did that, all of us would be seriously injured or killed. A predator would only shift in a room that size because they are defending themselves or are scared,” Cal said confidently. ”It’s why I shifted last night. I knew something was wrong, and my dragon pushed the drug through my body faster. I think Mikkail is trapped inside his own mind. He’s acting stranger than usual. Ah, there you are, beautiful.” Cal pulled a book off the shelf. It was tattered and torn in places, the leather worn and supple from excessive use. Cal flipped through a couple of pages before he snapped the book shut and looked at Nick.
”He matched your native tongue and placed your notebook on the shelf with the others because he gave you a separate task. He wrote in his native tongue on the blackboard because he was hiding something. Or because whatever has him scared is preventing him from speaking on it. Not to mention my spidy senses were tingling the entire time we were in his office.” Cal rubbed the back of his neck and turned, worried someone or something was listening to them.
Willow flipped the journal over in her hands, running her fingers over it softly. Luna didn't seem too fond of the item in her summoners hands, as she crawled up and on top of Willow's head at that point, and curled up a bit. "What has gotten into you, Luna?" As she asked that question, it was then the scent of brimstone hit and curled up into her nose. Willow flinched at that and groaned, as her other four senses were sometimes more delicate since her sight was not available to her.
She had smelled brimstone once before, a long time ago, when her Tia had been explaining Hell and Hellbourn magic to her. It was not a branch of magic that Willow was familiar with, but well, it seemed that Kramer had been in contact with Hell at some point, or at least the journal had been.
She flipped through the journal, and at first it seemed like the normal journal of a man, but as she got closer to the end, the writing turned to symbols and shapes. Luna squeaked and turned away, leaving the book just a thing in Willow's hand. "Alright, I understand. You don't like it. Fine." Willow slammed the journal shut and ran her hand over it, feeling it's warm. "We'll take it to the others. Will that make you happy?" She didn't get a response from her familiar and so she sighed and turned to head back towards the center where she had left her bag earlier.
The other thread was still itching at the back of her mind. The burning woman. Twice now had she come to Willow. She was clearly calling out across time for some reason, and Willow had ignored her now twice. She doubted that the third time would be as kind. Magic loved to work in threes, as her Tia loved to remind her. The Triple Goddess, the Trinity, and the Rule of Three. Willow decided that she would make the third time happen on her own terms, once they were done with Kramer.
Location: the Library Grimoire: Byeeeeeeee Skills: N/A Wild Magic Build Up: triggers on a 1, 2, 3, or 4
Jake gasped, tears welling up in his eyes as he was given his second ever gift. "Really?? Thank you!! Oh my gosh, I don't know where I'm going to put my new things!!" he squealed. "First Nicholas gave me a present, and now you??" If he had known what a birthday was, he would have compared this to it - of course, being completely unaware that his birthday had in fact been yesterday. He bounced up and down for joy, smothering his urge to wrap Connie up in a big hug to show how much it meant to him. He wasn't allowed to show affection like that, though. Some people wouldn't like it. He didn't want to get in trouble.
He didn't really understand what Connie meant about the data, though - it seemed silly. If Connie hadn't used her magic on the statue, how would it get in there? The idea of a passive proximity drain didn't occur to him, as he scrunched up his face, his tongue poking out slightly between his teeth as he tried to figure out what Connie had meant. Maybe if he turned himself completely upside down, he'd think better? He was about to see if he could stand on his head when Barty had an amazing idea - a new vantage point!
"Ooo, oo, oo, I can do it!!" Could he? He didn't know how, but as he looked up to the rafters of the room, it didn't seem too hard. "Byeeeeeee," he called out, as the magic swirled around him and he... reappeared exactly where he'd be standing. Huh. "Was that what was supposed to happen? That was so cool!!! I wanna disappear for a second again!!!"
Location: Haven, Strange Academy Grimoire: Skills: Current Outfit
Rohan elected to just ignore those two. He only fought if something endangered his life. And he didn’t feel threatened by those two. He withdrew a few tools from his toolbox. Chisels, a ruler, wood glue, and a needle rasp. Next, he began to scribe out dimensions based on the safe and the others were working out. A great deal of carpentry work was just numbers and angles, geometry and measurements. Once he did this, he could work on the actual magic of the piece.
Annika needed help getting some blood, so he sat his tools down. ”Sure, hold still. He took the knife and made sure the blade wasn’t grimy. Then he held Annika’s arm of a glass container and pressed the blade into the skin. It wasn’t a very long wound, that’d be harder to heal. But it was enough for blood to drip into a vessel. He held her there for a few moments, until the blood ceased to flow on its own.
”Put something over that.” And back to the project. He settled on thin pieces of Blackthorn, it made the most sense.
Rohan grabbed a hand planer from his tools, ensured the surfaces of his piece were squared up, then divided it into quarters. And then, he began to work his magic into the material.
"Mukō-gawa kara kita kurozunda ki, mae ni te o nobashi tari, ushiro ni te o nobashi tari."
He placed only a few drops of wood glue on the pieces, and their surfaces started to weep. It looked like the lignin and water was being dragged out, but it was something entirely different. He pressed them together with his hands, and they clung to one another for dear life.
"Matte, hanasanaide..."
He held the chunk of thin, squirming wood in one hand and raised a rasp to it in the other. He began to shear off certain points of it, and it didn't look like the most precise work. But there was a method to it. Gouges became smooth indents, reminiscent of veins, more black fluid foamed up insides the grooves.
Then he flipped it over, and grabbed a chisel. Rohan used it to carve out channels, small and fine. The sympathic connections would be able to flow in, the blood would have no trouble or chance of warping the interior.
"Watashi o eda ni tojikomete, watashi o toge ni tojikomete kudasai."
A green tint could be seen on the incomplete piece where the light hit it. Rohan's fingers looked like they were stained with the sap blood he just offered up to the others. And just for good measure, he reached under his shirt and got a small drop of it on his other hand. He pressed it against his project, and shut his eyes.
"Nigasanaide ne."
Root stared a hole into Rohan's head, he knew what his master was up to. He wasn't quite the same, but the shell he inhabited made the soul itch. Somewhere, out beyond the perimeter of this pocket realm they lived in, where concrete and steel ceded ground to soil and lichen, where the gods and laws of modern mankind carried no weight, something smiled.
Thump.
He opened his eyes again, and the newly carved quarter of a heart was already writhing in his hands. He was content with it. "Okay, that'll work. Not the best I've done, but nothing beats my familiar. Okay, anyone need some extra tools? I'm finished."
Location: Library Grimoire: N/A Skills: N/A Current Outfit
Excited at the prospect of impressing Cal (and to a lesser extent, Nicky), Cassie glided her way through the expansive library. She felt a sense of wonder at the knowledge on the shelves, varying topics at hand. This was more than she ever thought possible. The books she received education from were tailored to her parent's specific standards. Cassie had come to realize how much she did not know about what went on outside her family's walls.
She would have to spend more time in here, but she had a task. Professor Mikkail wanted research done and she wanted to impress him. And if she happened to impress the others in her coven, well that was just the cherry on top.
She passed by a few other students and professors, nodding in greeting before they were swept away to their own tasks. She saw the sign for the Language department and made her way over.
As she neared it she could hear a conversation. It took her a minute (longer than she'd have liked) to catch it was Cal speaking. She heard the tail end of it. She heard it was about being in someone's office, so it had to be Professor Mikkail, right? Why were they discussing him in private without her or Willow being privvy to the chat?
She looked around and spotted the two of them. She got the sense she was interrupting something more, but went ahead anyway. "Hey guys! Sorry to interrupt what I assume was research, but I wanted to share what I found. I learned more about the Witch Trials and gathered as many documents I could. But I also found out more about Krodha. I am happy to share when you two are done....researching though." She gave a small smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.
Surely the research asked about Krodha, or Auril, wasn't ill-informed. Right?
”Of course my dearest,” Finley told Dysphoria. ”I always have time for you.”
Upon receiving the other blood samples, Finley set to work. They kept the samples of blood from each of the four of them in their separate jars. Finley removed from their pockets some leaves, sticks, and a bit of spiderweb. They broke apart each of the items so there were four piles. All four piles would be sympathetic to each other, having the same parent item. These items were added into the jars of blood, and whatever the hell Rohan called his body fluids.
The magic combined as did the fluids, Annika and Rohan’s blood took longer and was a bit harder, but in the end, Finely was able to manipulate the blood into become an anchor. They, as a group, would be able to use the sympathetic magic of the mixture like a compass.
”Here is my contribution.” Finley held up the glass container. The liquid did not look exactly like blood, but its original source was obvious. It was a deep red, like port, and watery.
”If you consider proper documentation hesitancy, no wonder everyone has gone mad looking at this, and left nothing to show for it. Did your coven, who were trying to map it, leave anything behind? Or are you destroying their documentation?” Connie asked, irritated. She gave Croan a scathing look and stood.
”You can keep it in your room,” Connie suggested to Jake. She smiled gently at him. Glad that he appreciated the gift. Connie did note that Nick had apparently given Jake a gift too. That concerned her. The Macleod twin’s ‘gifts’ often came with strings attached to them. They were much like Fin in that way.
Connie considered her options. Barty’s suggestion of a different look at things was interesting. Even if Croan automatically dismissed it. She did not particularly care what he thought. He had been giving this Mystery for how long and had still failed to crack it. Her other option was insanely dangerous.
Connie’s transformation magic may be exactly what was needed here. In theory, she could cast stone to flesh. But she didn’t trust the object. She didn’t trust that her magic wouldn’t just be eaten and she drained of it all. That fear was enough to convince her to hold off on that idea... for now.
So, self-transformation and becoming a bird it was. Connie shifted, one moment she was a human woman, the next a bird.
In the air, Connie flew over the statue, taking in the appearance of the markings. She was not entirely surprised to see that it looked the same; nothing stood out to her.
Location: Hall of Ancients, Strange Academy Grimore: Skills:
”Did any of them have the sight? Or were they looking at things without any knowledge or understanding of what it is they were looking for? I also wonder if maybe the statue's previous location has any clue towards this mystery. I doubt we could visit there on such short notice, but I'd hate to think that a clue was left behind in the means of where it was looking, pointing, anything that could further the plot.” Barry raised an eyebrow as Jake mentioned Nicky had given him a gift. How very unlike him, not unless it was meant as a means to an end. No sooner did the buffoon volunteer his assistance than he failed to even give it. Having managed to somehow waste magical energies and yet remain in a singular spot.
Connie of course was able to at least lift off the ground and fly above the statue, but to his knowledge she didn't have a witch's eye. He didn't know if she could open up her third eye and view the full extent of the weave. That was when he finally noticed. The red glowing marks upon the stone, the glyphs and lines that were carved into the statue. He was so focused on what was invisible he himself failed to notice the very things right before him. Barry went to grab a match, having it instantly snap in his hands as he took a deep breathe to try and quell his frustration with fate. He decided to proceed without it. Hewas looking at a diagram for a spell. Some of it made sense, the framework essentially anchoring the spell where it was as it aided in carrying the magic throughout the stone. But even then he couldn't identify the spell, it seemed…broken. ”Well now that seems incredibly wrong. Shoddy spellmanship? No…perhaps…”
Location: Stands Skills: Franklin
Franklin wasn't sure why Annika would ask Rohan to help out of everyone in the group. Finley had the most practice with blood it seemed, he himself was very capable of drawing it and had varying ways to do so as well (and safely), Rohan…shoved paper into a wound and called it a day. While he couldn't exactly doubt Roman's commitment to the craft he could in fact call to question his hygienic practices when it came to retrieving blood. He decided to set that aside. His part couldn't be completed until all other pieces were. Rohan had finished his, and Finley theirs. Good. Franklin made his way over to the fae, holding his hand out for them to pass on their portion of the work.
“Perfect. It seems we need only have Annika's portion done and then I can set to work on mine. Once that's all complete we'll have a working beating heart. I daresay its potential could far exceed some of the anchors I've seen before.”
Croan ignored Connie for the moment, instead pulling out a small pocket watch and glancing at it. “Wrap up your ruminations - we are nearly at the limit of our permissions.” Croan snapped the pocket watch shut and tucked it back away. “Their writings, a copy for each of you, have already been delivered to your rooms. Your initial impressions both give you an opportunity to look at it without undue bias and me an opportunity to gauge your efficiency. I’m sure you know how your coven faired, Ms. Winthrom.”
“Yes, Mr. Mcleod. Continue your inane murmurings. Perhaps your covenmates will spontaneously develop telepathy over the next few minutes.” Croan drawled and sent Jake a judgemental look. “Do you understand anything about your abilities or are you as incompetent as a newborn babe?”
A Trip through Magic
Willow, Nicky, Callaghan, Cassiopeia
Nicholas tilted his head as he considered, letting the shifter continue to mutter and investigate books without him. Cal knew the library better than he did; Nicholas knew he’d be hard pressed to find something Cal couldn’t. “Mikkail, for all his strangeness, commands more power than most in this institution. Could it not have just been a reflexive stress indicator? Like someone chewing their nails or picking at their skin?” Nicholas asked. Cal knew Mikkail far better than he did but it did seem improbable the dragon was overpowered. A millennia old creature did not succumb easily to mental manipulations, traps, or even simple distractions regardless of how strange they presented themselves. It would take a moment of extreme distress to bypass even the most basic of the Professor’s defenses. Nicholas should know - the twins had tried.
Nicholas was about to suggest they accept Mikkail’s invitation to return any time, but the arrival of Callaghan’s plaything stilled his tongue. The jealous edge in her posture and coldness in her gaze did not go unnoticed. Nicholas didn’t bother restraining himself and sighed. He did not like complications and while it had been a fun thought, Nicholas was quickly tiring of engaging through Cal. “Callaghan, we can resume our… discussion where your concerns lay.” Nicholas gestured to Cassie. “The floor is yours.”
Meanwhile, whispers started in Willow’s ears - just beyond comprehension and spilling from the edges of the journal.
Into the Unknow
Rohan, Finley/Dysphoria, Frankie, Annika
Dysphoria cooed softly and curled around Finley’s throat, the faint thrum of adrenaline still keeping them on edge.
“Excellent, excellent. And very resourceful, very resourceful. The Neverish is a place of chaos; you never know when you need to consider anything a resource.” Sariel praised the group, pushing off the wall and striding to the middle of the room. “Now, once it is completed I will lock it away and energize the connection. It may be… mildly uncomfortable for a moment, but you’ll come to appreciate it well!”
Location: the Library Grimoire: N/A Skills: N/A Wild Magic Build Up: triggers on a 1, 2, 3, or 4
He gasped with delight as Connie turned into a bird - and as Barty broke something! They were both so cool, so talented!! Could he do that?? No, their magics were different. He could flicker in and out. They could do other things. "Did you figure it out? Did you solve it? Should I break something too? Ooooh oooh I wanna be a bird, can you turn me into a bird? Pleeeease?" he whined a bit, his eyes wide with wonder.
Croan's question for him, however, made him giggle. It was so silly! How would he know anything about his magic, when he didn't know anything about himself? There wasn't a single memory in his head, no information about who he was or where he came from, just his name and a guiding sense of purpose. Maybe it should have frightened him, but how could he be scared when he was surrounded by so many of his amazing friends? This was the happiest he'd ever been! It was all so cool and exciting, and he couldn't wait for them to free Ardyon, so he could make a new friend who was a protector just like him! "You're so funny!" How did he make his face look like that? He wanted to try! He tried to match Croan's expression - but he couldn't quite manage it, a smile popping back up with his each and every attempt to scowl.
"But yes, I was born yesterday!! Or - I don't remember anything before yesterday. Well, that's not true, I know that my name is Jake!" he offered helpfully. "Am I supposed to know about my magic? Should I be trying things? Is that what you'd like me to do? Let me know, I want to help!!" His gaze wasn't on Croan, as he started to squirm a bit, the urge to run gripping him. It had been really fun to work with the statue, but he had been in this one place for so long, and he could feel the energy in his body starting to build, threatening to burst if he didn't do something about it.
As Annika and Frankie completed the last pieces of their anchor and blood poured into the artifact, Sariel grinned - a feral, sharp thing. The heart beat softly, each contraction giving off a faint blue pulse of static. Magic stirred deep beneath the floor, shifting like a living creature, and the words that screamed out of every fissure and pore of reality itself tore at the edges of their consciousness. Rohan, Finley, and Disphoria felt it rattle their bones and felt like their heads would explore, Annika's ears began to bleed, but Frankie?
Frankie's magic cracked in response, lightning racing through his whole body and lighting up his system much like Sariel's.
Their Professor was electrified just the same and slammed the beating heart into the safe box, sealing it shut with thunder and lightning, and spinning the table wildly. Arcs of Sariel's lightning slammed into each of her students and as it spun, it drew out long threads of their magic and pulled it into the table, spinning them into fine, golden thread. It seemed to last for eternity, the moment of howling words, crazier magic, and two who shifted from skeletal to fleshy and everything in between, until finally, Sariel spoke the same words rolling across the plane, sharpened them into a single fissure, and with a horrifying scream, slammed it into the table, forcing it back into the ground.
Sariel panted, pushing her hair back from her face. Her hair was frazzled and her clothes in disarray and still she grinned, pride and feral enthusiasm on full display. “And now you are bound, to here and each other. You've done well, but I believe that is enough for one day. Let's get you all back and tomorrow, tomorrow, we will make our first dive!”
Location: Haven, Strange Academy Grimoire: Skills: Current Outfit
Magic was a great and terrible thing.
In the hands of his dear friend Connie, it was something Rohan owed a great deal to. In the hands of Finley, it was a cruel joke to be played on others. The Macleod brothers used it to wild away the centuries, and Rohan used it to survive. But Sariel’s magic, when it hit him? He didn’t know what the hell to make of it. His hand had gone to a knife, with most of body stumbling into a table as his first instinct was to cut someone. Lightning shooting into him, all the noise, it set his senses on fire. He gripped the hilt of his bone dagger and tossed it to Root, his mind winning out over the spooked animal in him.
Their work was complete. Something under his skin was happy.
”Damn… Warn a guy, next time.” He stood up straight, and rolled his shoulders. That felt like hell. He glanced over at Annika, who looked to be bleeding. ”That doesn’t look good.”
”Mild discomfort,” Finley said, a little sarcasm toning their voice. They did not like the feeling one bit. They could feel the blood binding. It pulled at them. As soon as that object was no longer necessary they would make sure to break the magic.
”Are we done then?” Finley was ready to leave this room. They wanted time alone with Dysphoria. They wanted to leave the uncomfortable draw of the thing the group had made. Finley had only tasted Rohan’s ‘blood.’ Uncertain if it was something they could even work with. Even while tasting it they had shoved the power, and memories aside, only tasting for compatibility. However, it had tried to hurt them. Tried to consume, and if not for Dysphoria it may have won.
For the others Finley had no need to taste their blood, they were standard human witches of one breed or another. They had not been concerned about not being able to manipulate the blood. It also had the bonus of showing that Finley respected their privacy.
Connie, still a bird, fluttered around and eventually landed on Jake’s shoulder. She ruffled her feathers. It wasn’t clear which part of what Croan said caused her irritated bird noises that followed. Very likely it was all of what he said, or that he had yet again mispronounced her name.
Suddenly a whole lot about Jake seemed to make more sense for Connie. Jake had no memories, that explained why he couldn’t read. However, her attention was still on Coran, as she lifted off of Jake’s shoulder and shifted back to her human form in a fluid motion. The error of the previous night seemingly forgotten. Perhaps it was because she was moving between her more customary forms, humanity slipping over her easily.
Her eyes narrowed slightly, her heart pounded from the vision she had seen. Connie was not normally a seer. She did not have visions. Her magic was in the body. It was healing and changing. This though, she could not deny what she had seen. Connie hated it. Hated knowing that. Before that moment she hadn’t trusted Croan, and now anything resembling respect she had for him as a practitioner burned away, like his cottage, like the lives he sacrificed to his thirst for knowledge and power. Never in her life had she had such a desire to turn someone to stone as much as she did in that moment.
Her attention shifted to the statue, Connie considered once again attempting the stupidest thing she could think to do. If she reached out and touched it, skin to stone, and willed it, could her magic change it. However, the parade of people sacrificed at the feet of Croan and his liege for the sake of this seemingly impossible task held her hand. She would not touch it, she would not allow her magic to flow into it. Not until she knew the cost and consequences of such actions.
”Are we excused then?” Her tone is harsh when speaking with Croan. ”The sigils we see continue in the top down view of the statue as well,” she told Barty in a clipped tone, though not harsh. She gathered her things, making a quick note.
”Jake, let me know when you wish to go over those notes. I will assist you.” Her tone warmed a little when speaking to Jake. ”Barty, you’re welcome to join us, but it may be best for us to discuss once we’ve all gone over it and have thoughts about it, rather than discussing while reading it.” This time her voice was not as clipped, her annoyance and anger cooling a little.
Willow flipped the leather book over in her hands as it whispered to her. Luna didn't seem to be excited about the whispering and squeaked more, as if to get her summoner to ignore the whispering. "Just a peek more can't hurt, Luna. It's for research after all~" Willow went to open the book again and she gasped.
This was different than earlier. There were voices shrieking from joy as the cover was turned and the book was laid bare. The pages in the journal were blank and rippled like water, with dark shadows shifting beneath it. Even when Luna looked away, the book was seared into her mind and Willow could see it clear as day. It dripped icy cold liquid down her hands and arms until the eyes opened for only her to see.
Hundred of them were scattered across the library, warping wood and stone and air alike, pressing in from all sides with a singular focus. They seemed hazy, clouded, but still straining to reach her. The voices returned, quiet, fearful, exhausted, and young:
Help. Us.
Willow dropped the journal and put her hands over where her eyes would be and screamed as she dropped to the floor. Too many eyes looking at her, too many voices... too much begging! "STOP! What do you want from me?!" She screamed as she felt tears rolling down her face from under her facial coverings at that point.
Luna fluttered off and started to flitter around the other three of Willow's coven in an upset pattern, trying to get someone's attention. She focused mostly on Cal and Cassie, fluttering in their faces as she tried to get someone to help her mistress, anyone at that point.
Location: Library Grimoire: N/A Skills: Social Cues Current Outfit
Cassie let the silence hang for, perhaps, a bit too long. There was something here that was bothering her. She had always been good at reading people. After all, it wasn't like she was able to do anything else at home. She got very good at knowing who was being honest with her and when they were lying (and they were always lying to her). Her parents, most of all, held hidden agendas frequently. It was part of the main reason she ran away and joined this school.
Cal appeared easy-going about it. A thirst for knowledge. Genuine in his interest. Nick, however, concerned her. He was like a cat upon meeting a new person, untrusting, skulking around with narrowed eyes as if a single movement would threaten all he held dear to him. And that, quite frankly, irked the hell out of her. She was new, granted. She had to earn her reputation, but surely she should be given a chance to do so. And did she even want to earn his praise? He was part of her coven, and that had to count for something, right?
Right.
"Well, I read up on the Witch Trials, found a lot of good information about it. Solid information also, and some of the things I read were made from, I think, human flesh? And that's something I am going to need to get over very quickly, I feel, but there it is. Anywho, I compiled all the texts on one table back there. But, for the other part of the research you wanted, Cal, I found out more about Krodha. And..."
Her spiel was interrupted by something flying at her face. She fought off the urge to scream, but she ducked down instinctively. She looked to see what it was and it was....was that a moth? A big moth? Then it clicked. It was Willow's seeing-eye moth or whatever. Then she heard the screams of someone at a distance. It took Cassie a moment to recognize, but she knew it was Willow's voice. Something was happening. She looked over to Cal and Nick to see if they heard and would run off, but it didn't matter. Cassie turned and ran back where she came, following the voice.
Whatever was happening was causing Willow intense distress. Was she being attacked? Surely not, not at this school. She turned the corner and saw someone crumpled to the ground. Cassie strode forward, nearing Willow. "Willow? Are you okay? What's wrong?" Cassie lowered herself to her knees and tried to put her arms around Willow, comforting the girl. Cassie scanned around herself to see if there was an active threat. The only thing she noticed was an open journal. Cassie got the sense that whatever was causing Willow anguish had to do with it, but Cassie could not pinpoint what. And she didn't want to read it herself, lest she fall to whatever Willow was going through.
Location: Hall of Ancients, Strange Academy Grimore: Skills:
Barty wrinkled his nose as the old man gave his snide remarks. That was his job. ”If they did it would make all of this that much quicker. Not my fault others don't possess such a talent.” He rolled his eyes as he stood up from his knelt down position. ”Either way, I shall take the time away from here to discuss with my covenmates what it is that each of us has learned, if they have learned anything at all, and further explain what to you may seem like inane murmurings but to anyone with working eye’s and a brain would see and know of what I spoke of. Unless you truly only let such backwaters witches into this den before me, then that would explain why you never progressed any further.” He motioned with one finger for Jake and Connie to follow him, turning in such a way that his coat billowed behind him.
”I am with Winthrop here. We must study the texts alone, come to our own conclusions, and then meet up to discuss them amongst one another. Take notes. I know I do not have to say as much to you Connie, but this one here looks like he might need the reminder. Beyond that I think I’ll go and have a smoke outside, if you wish you may join me and I can elaborate on what it is I may have uncovered in the final moments. How it may help is another thing entirely, but I'm sure we can figure it out.” Barty gathered what few items he came in with and stepped beyond the doors of this room, instantly pulling out a cigarette and lighting it to take a long drag. This coven was going to try his patience, it was no wonder he and Nicky never truly formed one with the witches of eld. Not that any of them would have survived as long as they had.
Location: Stands Skills: Franklin
Franklin had not expected to feel so much power resonate from this singular creation. He’d built things before, small birds, a hand, anything he could find within the cemetery of New Orleans, but even when those were brought to life it didn’t spark as much power as what he had felt today. The static was a thing a beauty, the hearts thrum within his hands as he had finished the last of his magic on it, and as his magic sang in tune with that of the worlds beneath him, he was overcome. Cackling at the power, the feeling, the unbridled energy. This was what he had been chasing. This was what it felt like to be alive. He paid no mind to those in pain, to those bleeding, he couldn’t. He was so suffused with the feeling ecstasy it was all his mind could focus on, and then in a moment, it vanished. He stood there panting, sweating, his hair fallen in front of his face as other bits stood out at odd ends from the static of it all. He didn’t care, he wanted to try this again, but at a larger scale. Finally as Rohan spoke, he turned to notice Annika was bleeding from her nose. “ I’m sure she’ll be fine. Here, take a cloth I have plenty.” Frankie removed a strip of cloth and handed it towards his covenmate to help sop up the blood.
Amongst the concerns of the covens, of the curiosities uncovered, of the eclectic and ancient magics, the gong struck once more and the stillness that offered these pockets in the academy their moments of contemplation shattered like glass. Students seemed to pour from every corner, life suddenly filling the empty corridors and quiet spaces all at once, and in the hustle and bustle, the covens were released from their duties as they had yet another to attend -
It was time to meet their advisors. —
Prof. Gray - Chaos and Wild Magic Advisees: Jake, Cassie
Arcane glyphs and sigils traced deep blue walls in gold and bronze, candles and lanterns floating in constellation patterns near the ceiling cast warm light down on the room, and deep blue, red, and gold rugs tastefully covered the marble floor. Red plush couches with blue and gold throw pillows were arranged around a gathering of warm wood coffee tables, each stacked high with books and tomes that sometimes rearranged themselves when no one was looking. Bookshelf on bookshelf lined the walls, containing books and artifacts and the occasional fossil of the weird and weirder, and various urns and ceramic jugs were cramped under every available space. Several throw blankets covered the few individual chairs in the room and piles of candles seemed placed in every corner, burning without melting the wax.
In the center of all the chaos were two desks, two pens, each labelled for their respective audience.
I am writing about homework this year. I’m sorry to tell you I’m on vacation because I’ve been planning a nice visit for my dear husband all year — a vacation you probably can’t imagine. But that doesn’t mean I can’t teach. Below, you’ll find a file of your daily habits, mental, physical, and emotional reactions to managing your emotions during stressful times. With these exercises and the mantras in your file, I can track your progress and answer all your questions. If you need immediate assistance, contact Pixie. She is an old friend of mine; we went to high school together.
Prof. Grey
I am writig this letter in response to this year's course materials. I would very much like to be there and witness the success of the other Chaos witches, but unfortunately I am on extended leave this year, having dedicated the entire year to planning and organizing a fantastic vacation for my beloved husband, something you probably wouldn't understand. But that doesnt mean I wont be teaching you. At the end of this letter you will find a folder containing daily spells, exercises for the mind, body, and soup, and important exercises for controlling your emotions in stressful situations. With these tasks and the magic pen in your folder, Madam Bellafontaine, I will be following your progress and answering any questions you may have. If you need further asistance immediately, you can contact Pixie. She is an old friend of mine and we studied together in the past.
Prof. Grey
Prof. Gwynn - Illusions and Enchantments Advisees: Nicky, Barty, Finley + Dysphoria
Meggan Gwynn was hardly ever called by her legal name and she was referred to even less as Prof. Gwynn, even among her students. No, instead she was known simply as Pixie, half-mutant, half-fae, full time and active member of the X-Men, model, ex-girlfriend of Nico Minoru, op of Illyana Rasputina, and professor of illusions and enchantments at Strange Academy. Her preference as a teacher was hands-on, active problem solving. For instance, students were rarely welcomed into her office, instead ushered into a mystical danger room she had collaborated with Prof. Gray on.
But Agatha had told her that she didn’t have time to give her students a near death experience today, that the point of this was for them to meet their advisors and ask if they had any questions, blah blah blah - to be honest, Pixie had tuned her out after the first few sentences, instead thinking about everything she was missing on her Snikt feed at the moment, as her phone didn’t work outside of the AV club’s wifi cafe. Not even Limbo was this much of a wifi dead zone. She would have sent a quick message spell off to Max to complain, but he was out of range. Boo.
She was two students, despite being the advisor for three - Finley Darling was co-advised by Croan and would be meeting with him for this session. The other two she wasn’t incredibly thrilled about. They reminded her of her father. But at the same time, she was an X-Man - and that meant believing that people could change for the better.
“Hey guys!! Come on in, come on in - anyone peckish? I’ve got some crisps set out, and I’m making tea if you’d like any,” Pixie offered. Her office was at the top of a tower, the stone leading up to it a romantic soft pink. The main space was gaudy and tacky, pink furs dangling from the stone ceiling, the silver stones reminiscent of a disco ball glued to the walls, and pink furniture in the style of a retro dinner booth, curling into a semi-circle. A bright chandelier provided the majority of the lighting, continuing to bathe the space in a pink glow, and a spiraling staircase led further up in the tower, presumably to Pixie’s living quarters. She fluttered around, getting everything just into place, before facing her students with a beaming smile.
“Wow, I can’t believe it - the coven system, yay! You’ve all grown up so fast!” she gushed. “Today is just an informal hang - we can just vibe, I can answer any questions you all have, we can have some snacks, maybe film some things to post on Snikt later, and call it a day. Sound good?” she preened.
Prof. Ravoux - Healing and Necromancy Advisee: Connie
This year, Zéphyrine had only been allotted a single student from the coven system. But as luck would have it, her sole mentee was one of the most talented young witches she had had the good fortune to meet, in this century and any other. Connie was co-advised with Prof. Marino, but she knew her pupil would be coming to see her before too long.
Prof. Ravoux taught a variety of courses at Strange Academy, having resided in this swamp since long before the Sorcerer Supreme had even been able to mutter an incantation. And while her specialty was in brewing potions and herbs, creating tinctures and salves to push the balance of the scales of life and death, she also instructed students on innate transformations, having cursed herself with lycanthropy almost a lifetime ago.
Her office was on the grounds of the school, more of a hut, a small wooden cottage, than the traditional space the other professors preferred. It was surrounded by overgrowth, with a small pond near its base - the water coming from the very swamp Zéphyrine had called her home for so long, its mud having properties she still described as miraculous, forming the basis of most of her salves. Its exterior was decorated with bells, feathers, knots, and other such charms, and the occasional white chalk sigil, painstakingly refreshed each full moon. Muddied boots were left outside, along with torn clothing in need of mending, and empty jars, faded labels only hinting at what they once would have contained.
“Come in, mon amour,” Zéphyrine called out, as Connie approached. “‘Elp me wit’ t’ese, will you?” she instructed, not bothering to glance over her shoulder. When her student stepped over the threshold, a cleansing bell would be disturbed by the opening of the door, removing any negativity or ill-intent that could be brought into the swamp witch’s sanctum. The interior of the cottage was no less messy than its exterior - hundreds of bottles crammed onto rickety, wooden shelves, containing specimens and samples, potions and antidotes, salves and herbs - and a thousand other wonderful things. Books were open on every available surface, their pages muddied and dirtied, notes scrawled into the margins in Zéphyrine’s own short hand. It was her living space in addition to her office, yet rather than have any discernable bed, a pile of blankets and rags and clothing was strewn in one corner, more of a nest than anything else, covered with the thick, brown hair of a dog.
She wore a series of torn skirts, loose blouses, and tattered shawls, her hair a wild, tangled mess of curls - and despite the nature of her work, today was no different, as she set about skinning a rabbit. She nodded towards Connie, indicating for her to join her in the task, as another one sat there unattended. “Leave t’e foot as it is - we’ll make a c’arm for you out of it. T’ere’s a bad wind in the air.”
Professor Varn Croan Advisees: Annika, Finley
Croan’s office offered little variation from what people would expect. A stunning floor to ceiling wall of windows with a small set opening as a door for Croan’s late night escapades. A heavy wooden desk, flanked by bookshelves and tall gothic candelabras that burned with smokeless light, was framed perfectly in the and a set of black leather chairs faced it. Two statues, towering representations of Italian art from centuries ago, watched the room with a dedicated glint that spoke volumes of their care.
Croan sat behind his desk, one hand at his temple to hopefully curb the ache his coven and their theatrics offered him. The Macleod was annoying but useful, the Winnel slow but gifted, and the last one… It was a rare night he felt his vampiric nature so dreadfully tested. It’d been some time since his last hunt, let alone feeding. He would slake his thirst this evening however, the return of the students certainly assured him of that. The… thing steeped in wild magic exhausted him to no end and Croan knew it would take far more than the normal amount to keep his vampire from tearing Jake’s throat out. However, these thoughts turned towards the present and true as the doors opened and his advisees arrived.
“Good afternoon. Mx. Darling and Dysphoria, you will also fall under the jurisdiction of Ms. Gwynn so please feel free to address her with any questions you may have as well. You may consider me as a resource for your development of blood magic.” Croan informed the duo, direct and to the point. His attention turned to Annika next. “And as for you, Ms. Hawthorne, I shall be a resource in your advancement of shadow magic. Should either of you find your skills faltering in your advancement of your coven’s responsibility, I am available during most afternoons for a brief conversation. How did your first evaluations go? You are both in the same coven, yes?”
Professor Mikkail Genesis Advisees: Callighan, Willow
Despite knowing their way to Mikkail’s sitting room, they had been instructed that morning via letter to instead meet their advisor at the observatory - a specialized tower at the edge of the forest that shimmered a faint blue during the day but displayed a gorgeous aurora around it at night. It was nearly 1,000 stairs in total, long and curling along the inside of the building with a wickedly painful drop down the center. There was evidence of a railing once but it had either crumbled away or collapsed out of poor maintenance. However, the door at the top permitted entrance into one of the most magical places in the school: a room that would offer you a full look at the night sky around you from any point in time and any point in space. It was a gorgeous thing, a magical artifact uncovered ages ago from a place between time itself and Mikkail loved it dearly.
The professor arrived shortly after his coven diligently pursued their quarry with single minded focus. He’d felt a pang of homesickness for a place he’d not seen in nearly a thousand years. The sky of his home filled the observatory, gaseous colors of purple and red and white curling in the sky and constellations consumed by time and consigned to memory for all eternity winked at him. He ached to soar in the heavy skies once more, ached to feel the blistering vapors across his scales and sing in unison with his weyr. Those days were long gone and the pain of memory long since faded into a dull ache, but still he yearned for something he would never see again. It shrouded him like a cloak, even as his advisees entered the room, and his smile was tinged with yearning and his eyes clouded in nostalgia.
“Now, it has only been but a matter of moments my friends.” Mikkail laughed as he crossed the room, clasping both their hands tightly for a moment. “So I do not expect you to need another introduction, though should you be interested I can certainly put on an entertaining act. We should have a typewriter for you in your room shortly, my dear Willow, so please be at ease and rely on your friends a little longer. I know it may be odd that I am both your mentor and coven head but I certainly could not relinquish my favorite student and I believe that no one else can quite help you like I can, Willow. So, while I am your coven head, my capacity as your mentor is more to guide you in your development of your magical craft, help make sense of the mysteries and concerns that magic brings, in any which way I may.”
Professor Sariel Marino Advisees: Rohan, Franklin
Unlike with Finley and Annika, Sariel snatched both Rohan and Franklin by the ear before they could escape. “Since you two are with me in both coven and mentee, then you may as well come to my office upstairs now. We’ll get this knocked out and you can be on your way to wrestle with your friend, drink, or make drama however you’d care to while I am not there. Come along, we won’t have all day!” Sariel released them before leading them back out of the endlessly convoluted mess that kept the entrance to the Neverish protected.
On the second story, a door tucked away in a far corner could have easily been overseen as a broom closet. However, as Sariel inserted a key and her magic flowed through it, gears in the wall shuddered to life and the clinking and grinding noise echoed down the hallway. The door clicked open moments later and warm afternoon light and bird song floated out. Inside the left wall was all glass, overlooking the forest below, and a long table crafted from a lightning struck tree dominated the center. Twelve chairs sat around it and the walls were covered in gorgeous mountain sceneries from across the globe. Each one was oil on canvas and different music played softly from each one.
“Welcome to my home away from home. A little break from the madness.” Sariel waved at the table, indicating for them to take a seat. At the far end was a small drink cart, Sariel pouring herself a glass of bourbon. “In the meantime, would either of you care for a drink? I understand that you may not quite qualify for these; however, you are to experience the wonders and horrors of dimensional magics and I feel that itself deserves a kinder touch. With that being said…” Sariel pushed the drink cart over, a glass and bronze affair, and settled at the head of the table.
“Here, we are to discuss your projects and efforts pertaining to your magical development. Yes, the coven challenges are there to offer you an obstacle and a goal all in one; however, developing the talents and skills required will demand efforts outside the challenge. So, what thoughts, questions, concerns, or any other pressing matters would you care to discuss?”
