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[color=8a9a5b]Location:[/color] Hall of Ancients, Strange Academy
[color=8a9a5b]Grimore:[/color] 
[color=8a9a5b]Skills:[/color] [/center]
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Barty wrinkled his nose as the old man gave his snide remarks. [i]That[/i] was his job. [color=8a9a5b]”If they did it would make all of this that much quicker. Not my fault others don't possess such a talent.”[/color] He rolled his eyes as he stood up from his knelt down position. [color=8a9a5b]”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.”[/color] He motioned with one finger for Jake and Connie to follow him, turning in such a way that his coat billowed behind him. 

[color=8a9a5b]”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.”[/color] 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.



[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]
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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. [i]This[/i] 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.