[hr][hr][center][img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/01989753-c0d4-751e-94b6-ac932f65638b.webp[/img][hr][@Achronum][@Trainerblue192][@Morose][@Blizz][@Kirah][@PatientBean][@KazAlkemi][@kittyluna45][hr][h3][color=57F287][b]Late Morning - Sat. Nov. 2nd, 2040 [/b][/color][/h3][/center][hr]


[H1][center][color=magenta]Mikkail’s Sitting Room[/color][/center][/h1]
[sub][center]Willow, Nicky, Callaghan, Cassiopeia, Barty, Connie, Jake[/center][/sub]

Passions flared and arguments simmered, blame and guilt slung like mud rather than discussed with intent. Nicholas sighed as he pushed himself from where he was once kneeling in front of Cassie and rubbed his temples. He could feel the headache building and smoke sounded delightful, but he didn’t want to risk his smoking pipe with so much volatile magic still hanging about them. Instead, he fished out his flask and took a quick swig, stashing it back away, and took inventory of the room. Cassie demanded the book of Cal, the shifter offered some soft reassurances but maintained his resolve it would not be hers, Jake fretted aimlessly over Cassie, Connie suggested they die rather than leave the academy, his brother rightfully bound the immediate threat… Nicholas’s eyes roved Jake’s bound form and hummed appreciatively. If only he was wearing a little les-

The bubbling heat in his veins drew his attention to the moth as a voice unexpectedly rumbled from her. Large as she was, she was soft spoken and sweet - he hadn’t expected such intensity from them and he found it was quite the welcomed change. He wondered if that was something they could channel intentionally or if it was a change when their emotions were charged because he could certainly think of a few ways to draw that out. He licked his lips as he stared at Willow and considered what it would take to draw that out again; after all, it was only the other night they’d been introduced to the variety of experience Nicholas was considering now. Perhaps it would be too forward for her, or Cal. It was something worth considering, perhaps discussing with the shifter since he’d obviously laid claim to her that night, and instead turn his attention back to the bound man who held secrets he should not rightfully hold. 

He had no intention of chastising his brother for his behavior. His approval hummed loud and clear across their minds and wrapped thoroughly in his brother’s magic, Nicholas felt no fear as he circled Jake and trailed his fingers alongside the chains. [color=5b8a9a]“Pointed fingers offer no solutions. Still these petty arguments all, and focus forward on solutions.”[/color] Nicholas spoke, the softness shown earlier shuttered back behind his bored, nonchalance. [color=5b8a9a]“Our most pressing issue is the matter of my two covenmates’ health. Skilled as Connie and my brother may be in their trades, an expert eye ‘cross their wounds would offer assurances against further concerns.”[/color] Nicholas played with the hem of Jake’s shirt, fingertips dipping beneath it to feel the flesh beneath. [color=5b8a9a]“The next concern is the journal and, as Connie so kindly pointed out, how we move forward. As I so aptly pointed out when we were offered this quest, we ought abandon this line of inquiry and persuade our kind professor another avenue may well be best for us. The journal should be obliterated - offered no magic, nor solace, nor kindness. Simply burned from the face of time as far as we can. I have an avenue that would achieve that - gone forever with nary a struggle. Tis simply not here and inconvenient to move.”[/color] Nicholas stepped away from his examination of his brother’s prisoner and instead knelt at Cal’s side, tilting his head away from Cassie so he could claim a moment of his attention. 

[color=5b8a9a]“You have tasked me with keeping our covenmates safe and while I wish I could say that should we be assaulted, my skills would suffice in ensuring their survival, I would not offer you a lie. Their presence I may conceal and their noises I may muffle, I may even confound and confuse with more than who stand in this room now; however, I can not fight tooth and claw like you. I can, however, deal with this threat.”[/color] Nicholas pleaded softly, a conversation just meant for him, and offered him a pleading look, his fingers tracing the strong jaw of the man he’d learned to respect and care for over the years. [color=5b8a9a]“And in return for your trust and the knowledge you may lose, I would offer you a secret I have told no one through the ages if you’d care for it. I simply ask for the opportunity to close a wound from my past that I had not realized was still bleeding. Would you permit me this kindness?”[/color]


[H1][center][color=gold]Into the Unknow[/color][/center][/h1]
[sub][center]Rohan, Finley/Dysphoria, Annika[/center][/sub]

[color=F739D7]“We believe bringing back things from this realm a good idea. It would help in the discovery of what this place is, yes? More things for witches to examine, more puzzles for those interested in such things. That is the goal, no? Just information?”[/color] Dysphoria made a worried noise as the bauble broke in Finley’s hand, tendrils immediately petting over their hand to soothe any sting but they hummed happily when it seemed their Darling was unharmed. [color=F739D7]“It seems these baubles do not wish to be cla-”[/color] Dysphoria cut off as the spot where the bauble fell bubbled with light, yellows and blues and whites bubbling up and popping rapidly, building on one another. 

Dysphoria shifted, taking control of the body, and hopped back, watching it carefully. It grew, further and further and further pooling like water. Dysphoria hopped up on the table, tendrils snatching at Annika and Rohan and dragging them up with them. It seeped from the bubbling spot further and further and further, slipping under the door and traveling out into the oncoming darkness. The house shuddered as lightning flashed and thunder roared and rain poured down in a torrent. 

The floor rippled once, twice, and suddenly, sunlight poured up on a partially cloudy day and warmth radiated through the house. The roof creaked and buckled and plants grew down towards them, the building stretching as the plants grew from tiny sproutlings to fully matured orange trees in a matter of minutes. The roof opened up and grew further and further and further, an orange grove growing above their heads right before their eyes. The table began to sink into the floor and the stove and instruments vanished in the wind as the walls turned to dirt and fell up towards the grove and settled as a loamy soil. 

The table shuddered and shifted, breaking apart at the edges and the wood pieces fell into mulch. The porcelain dinnerware shattered and the pieces flew together into three tall glasses and three heavy pitchers, one full of yellow liquid, another of orange liquid, and the last full of black liquid, that drifted daintily down onto a table that grew in the center of the grove. A sunburst tiled mosaic covered the table top and deftly drawn lines form a series of glyphs and circles within the sunburst. The sound of a fountain gurgling could be heard from afar and a wooden sign could be seen on the horizon, although the wording was too distant to read. 

And then gravity reasserted itself. 

Dysphoria tried to keep the three together, but their tendrils disappointed around the other two as they tried to use an orange grove to control their dissent, but crashed shoulder into the ground with a groan. They shifted back, their Darling unharmed, but pain lingered in their bond. Their healing factor would take care of it, but in a moment.