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7 yrs ago
So tired, sleep why do you spurn me?!
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Hiya, AChronum here! Although I'm relatively new to rping, I have plenty of writing experience and love trying new genres and styles. I absolutely love high magic fantasy RPs and am pretty much willing to do anything so long as I can create a charaxter, not play an existing one, and develop lots and lots of backstory! I'm perfectly comfortable with all mature themes as well, although smut for smut's sake is out of the question.

Interested in an RP? Send me a PM and have a magically marvelous day!

Most Recent Posts

James Kingston




Location: Lincoln Memorial
Skills: N/A


Anyone who said things moved in slow motion at the end was a fucking liar.

James had let out a sigh of relief when Sunshine managed to send the X-Cutioner reeling. It would give them a few seconds to shut his bombs down and disarm him even if it didn’t completely neutralize the threat. Thank God for Sunshine’s lack of impulse control because they’d gotten bogged down by a gaggle of the group claiming that there was no point in doing anything because their plans sucked. Everyone walked into this knowing there was almost no chance of survival but they had to do something and talking in circles and shutting down things with no alternates was the opposite of helpful. But Sunshine fixed that and now they had to act.

Of course, it wasn’t that easy. The X-Cutioner shrugged off whatever Sunshine threw at him and James felt his blood run could. He pushed out the conversation, wracking his brain for any idea that could possibly help them out of this god forsaken situation. He glanced around, noting Sapphire and Max’s absence, and that sparked a thought. He wasn’t entirely sure how Max’s portals worked but if they could create a pressure differential…

He hadn’t realized the Mutant Underground were already making their move. His head snapped up at the tell tale crackle of electricity, the EMP pulse racing towards the X-Cutioner, and everyone knew, there was no lingering doubt: They’d lost. James felt like he was suffocating as he saw everyone he’d worked with, suffered with, cried with since the beginning of this whole ordeal, gathering around their certain death and he didn’t have enough time, he couldn’t let them die dealing with this bullshit. But he didn’t have time as the X-Cutioner detonated the bomb.

He didn’t think, he just did. He latched onto Casper, knocking him to the ground, and hunched over him, covering him as best he could. He distantly registered the cold, bitter and harsh, as he did his best to memorize the face of the man he loved, to apologize for not taking him up on his offer, to let him know that he loved him with everything he had until the every end and he’d never want to change him for the world, as everything came to a frigid halt.

He wished he had more time.
James Kingston




Location: Lincoln Memorial
Skills: N/A


James stepped through the portal, eyes already locked on the X-Cutioner. After Magneto’s attack on the mutant underground, attempted murder at the Glitter Factory, nearly losing half the team to a tunnel collapse, a full break down, discovering Glimpse had all but martyred herself, and dealing with the sheer amount of stress invilved with dealing with bombs they weren’t fully prepared to handle, James felt empty. He’d gone through more emotional whiplash today than his entire life and now they had to deal with this insane murderer’s horse and pony show. Everyone knew even if the X-Men showed up, even if they agreed to hear out his demands and considered fulfilling them, he’d still pull the trigger. Shy of an aggressive confrontation, this man was popping this bomb one way or the other. It’d cripple the entire organization and cemented another catastrophic failure in history for the group and while James had no doubt there was more to his choice of location, it was clear the X-Cutioner wanted the public to witness his crowning achievement.

Of course, Havoc was still being his jackass self. James held his tongue when he snapped at Casper, knowing better than to aggravate the group, but James did put himself between Casper and Havok and sent him a warning look. James really didn’t give a fuck about this guy, especally after discovering he didn’t have an issue putting everyone in the Underground in danger to get his dick wet, and if the situation wasn’t so serious, he’d have glady put his fist in the asshole’s face. He definitely shouldn’t be getting on someone who was actively helping the situation when all he was doing jack shit for the group.

But his attention wandered back to the matter at hand. James found himself wishing he had even one more scrap of information, one more little tidbit about this guy, that would give him a way under the X-Cutioner’s skin. He fit too many criteria, too many archetypes, with the limited amount of information they had right now. Other James prided himself on twisting people against themselves and while this James didn’t like the idea of doing that, he’d give an arm and a leg to even have the opportunity. “Who is Moriarty?” James asked his boyfriend absently, only partially processing Casper’s rambling. He agreed with Callie’s plan but there was one more thing they needed to consider.

“We also need to deny him the use of whatever device he uses to teleport with. Even if we can temporarily gain control of the bomb, he can always manually detonate it somewhere else at a later date once he takes it back or transfers the gas into a new device.” James considered quietly. “Although without Glimpse, I’m not sure we can replicate any effect like that. Sunshine, are there any illnesses that can target motor functions close to instantly that you can replicate? Preferably without killing him.”





Clarissa stormed her way back onto the crowded carriage, her face burning red with embarrassment and fury. She wasn't one of his distractions and flings to play with, to indulge himself with for an evening and then move onto the next sparkly thing that caught his eye. The shameless manner in which he conducted himself always grated on her nerves and she made no secret of it but directing it at her so crudely made her wish she cared less for him and his well being. And yes, maybe she'd spent a summer they'd rarely seen each other indulging in rose tinted day dreams of their lives together but they'd quickly shattered on their next meeting. They lived worlds apart, viewed their responsibilities in drastically opposite lights, and found shelter from the cruelty of fate in absurdly different comforts. He was a dear friend and he always would be but if he made one more grotesque comment like that, she really would run him through.

In a friendly manner, of course.

Her irritation bled away quickly enough as the Unit embarked for the battlefield. She'd been lucky to escape any need for her direct involvement in these matters before today. Despite the constant threat on the Alliance/Almyran border of their territory, it fell on the Goneril family to defend the mountains and so she found herself reading the reports from the border with a sense of detachment, everything reduced to numbers and positions and locations. The names rarely weighed more than any of the other information and it was all too easy to forget who struggled behind the endless pages of logistics. She doubted she’d ever read House Goneril’s reports with the same detachment now.

The thought brought with it a sharp edge of unease and she folded her hands together as she bowed her head. She wrapped herself in prayer the rest of the way. A prayer for those risking themselves for this rescue, a prayer for those terrified beneath the yoke of bandits, a prayer for those who were already lost to the senseless violence. Prayer soothed her and she found solace in knowing that the choice she made would allow her to be a conduit for seeing her prayers, her hopes and wishes, come true today.

Michail’s discussion drew her back into the moment and she listened carefully as the Knight discussed their plan. A brief flash of guilt ran through her when she heard Isolde would be on the front line. After all, Clarissa did just convince the girl to join them and immediately Michail confirmed the fears Isolde voiced but the guilt was quickly dismissed. Everyone knew the danger going in, Michail was kind enough to detail some of the horrors they’d experience, but Isolde decided to come along despite that. Still, it didn’t mean she wouldn’t worry about the soft spoken girl.

Clarissa sat up straighter as Michail detailed her role in the battle to come and the contemplative frown transformed into a confident grin, the same excited, confident determination sweeping the nerves that threatened to swallow her resolve away in a heartbeat.. Acting as the primary support for the Unit for their first confrontation? Clarissa wouldn’t have it any different. If there was one thing she was, it was dependable and as new as this experience would be, she would never let anyone relying on her down. “So long as I draw breath, no one here will falter or fall, Goddess as my witness.” Clarissa vowed.

She jolted forward as the carriage came to a jarring halt but the words of displeasure died on her tongue as the chaos of the village engulfed them. She watched with wide eyes as villagers wept and screamed and begged for their lives. Auberon’s commands went ignored, her name not there to stir her from her stupor, as she processed the pain and the suffering. She stood to follow the forward team but she found a familiar hand gripping her with an unfamiliar grip. She looked at Jorah, where he’d latched on to her in such away that she couldn’t escape even if she’d tried. She turned to make demands but when she met her best friend’s gaze, she swallowed her complaints at the seriousness of his face and met it with like solemnity. “Don't stray too far from me, okay?”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, Jorah.” She promised, laying her hand over his and squeezing briefly. She glanced back outside the carriage. The world around them was in shambles and the chaos was panic and pain and if she felt awful at the sight, Jorah must be feeling ten times worse. “And if all this gets to be too much, tell me. Don’t try to play the hero.”

Hero, wouldn't Duke Riegan love that,” Jorah answered quietly, facetious but visibly relieved. Her reply seemed to satisfy him, though no sooner did the words leave his mouth than his trademark grin returned.

“Nah, dinners with Duke Edmund will get mighty awkward if he hears I let his daughter get shot,” he added wryly, finally releasing her.

Clarissa patted his hand as a chuckle escaped at his comment and she stepped out of the carriage just in time to watch Auberon launched himself at the nearest combatant with sickening enthusiasm. The swiftness with which he dove into the fray, no hesitation in neither stance nor swing, felt like a slap to the face. No words were exchanged, no hand proffered nor offer made. The heights of civility, reason, and morality buckled in the face of suffering and distress apparently. Did fighting wickedness with wickedness truly help those who’d been hurt? It wasn’t possible that was true and even in the face that these violent creatures refused to turn to their light, wasn’t it their duty to try and bring them back into the light? She addressed their attackers, righteous condemnation dripping off every word.

“Harken unto me, ye sinners who still yet stand amidst the fetid carcass of their sin. In your darkness and depravity have you struck a blow against the Goddess and her children, against light and life that could not defend itself. You have turned from the path of righteousness with the indignant fury of beasts and monsters in the most feral of ways and now slake your avarice with the blood of innocents. Your actions are despicable and loathsome and the Goddess stands ready to render judgement for your wicked deeds.” Clarissa gestured to Auberon and his victim. Her tone softened, still loud enough to carry across the field but the fires of fury dwindling into a warm compassion instead.

“But here and now, you stand as the masters of your own reckoning. I cannot claim to know nor understand the desperation or despair that has led you here to this day and to this atrocity, but I do know you are not monsters nor beasts but men and women the same as us, children of a Goddess who sees the endless cycle of bloodshed and weeps.” Clarissa swept her hand in front of her, across the devastation of the village. “I implore you to look at what you’ve done and see not the rubble of unknown homes, hear not the wails and laments of distant strangers, but rather those of your own blood. Your parents, your brothers and sisters, your children, your friends―each and every one crying for help as their homes are burned to the ground, their flesh melted from their skin, their lives destroyed and in ruins by impassive kin. See the consequences of your actions as if they were committed upon you and your loved ones and ask yourself if you can still stand by your actions today.” Clarissa took that moment to take a breath, composing herself as she lost herself in the image of her own family in a village, dying because of the greed and hubris of man. It took more out of her that she cared to admit to continue but who was she if she didn’t make the effort among a dozen who didn’t?

“If you find yourself embroiled in waves of disgust and revulsion, then you are not lost. You stand here today at a crossroads, facing a decision for the future of your soul. Stand firm, here against those whose purpose is righteous and resolve divine, and find yourself shattered like glass in a hurricane or cast aside your weapons and repent so you may find an opportunity for atonement in the courts of man. Your path until now has been dark and painful and terrifying but today you have an opportunity to step back into the light, back into the arms of a forgiving Goddess, so that you may make yourself a life in her service. It is the simplest choice to make, I beg you you; cast aside your weapons, end the bloodshed, and forge yourself anew in the image of light and good and love.”





Laughter bubbled out of Clarissa at Jorah’s suggestion as she straightened up, the last dregs of pain finally seeping out of her muscles. However, her usual seriousness settled around her again as she listened to the Professors debate their course of action. As frustrating as it was to admit, Professor Euphemia was correct. While it would be a hyperbole to say fates of nations rested on the survival of this Unit, it wasn’t too far off. Kayden was the Crown Prince and herself and Jorah, although he wished it wasn’t so, were heirs to seats on the Alliance. She wasn’t as familiar with the people from the Blue Lions or their importance in Fargeus but she wasn’t naive; the archbishop put together a Unit with the basis of fostering good will and connections through all nations which meant there were major players from the Blue Lions here too. Any loss sustained here would compromise over a decade of planning and work and set someone back to zero. She couldn’t imagine her younger sibling the responsibilities of her position, of her father’s position, after growing so much with the expectation that he wouldn’t have to deal with any of it.

BOOM!

The thunderous explosion shattered her consideration, her hand going for a sword that wasn’t there. When she’d heard bandits, she’d expected extortion, a hostage, theft, literally anything other than mass destruction. What was there to gain from reducing an entire village to rubble other than death and suffering? Her reservations about the situation scattered into the wind at that moment. As a knight of Seiros, Clarissa knew Michail would go to the scene of the explosion no matter what. She wasn’t sure what kind of bandits used large scale explosives like that but if they were willing to destroy carelessly like that, there was no way he’d managed to help all the survivors and deal with the threat all alone. They were the only ones in the area to help and the Goddess had given her all the ability to help these people if Clarissa wished, what else could she do but acquiesce?

By the time Michail finished his brutal explanation of the expectations, Clarsisa’s resolved wrapped around her like armor, her horror and surprise crushed beneath the intensity of her determination. There was no question in her mind where she was going but she did a quick head count just to be safe. Imogen, unsurprisingly, had already run ahead and Jorah picked up his bow at the first sign of trouble. That only left… It took her a moment but she spied Derec leaving Isolde. Clarissa hadn’t had much of an opportunity to sit and talk with the Ordelia girl. She was quiet and reserved and startlingly difficult to read beyond constantly uncomfortable with any given situation. Clarissa turned sharply on her heel and approached the other girl.

“Are you scared? Clarissa demanded when she stopped in front of Isolde.

The blonde’s shriek of surprise died in her throat, eyes wide as she stared at Clarissa. There were a multitude of ways Isolde could have replied, but she said nothing as she raised her hands to her chest. Looking back at the village, she uttered, “Yes.”

“Are you going to come with us?” Clarissa asked, one hand propped on her hip. It was interesting how different their experiences were right now. Clarissa wasn’t afraid. Nervous, anxious even, but not afraid. “Or are you thinking about staying behind?”

Falling quiet again, Isolde watched as Derec pulled himself into the carriage, vaguely overhearing something about getting a proper seat this time around. “If we go, it’ll be dangerous. The professors can’t always protect us,” She repeated Michail’s words, shaking her head. “But then that means...we have to...hurt others, doesn’t it?”

“Yes.” Clarissa replied, eyes drifting over to the plume. “You may have to hurt someone, take someone’s life, to protect yours and ours and the Professors lives. You may have to hurt someone to make sure a child still has their parent, a brother still has his sister, a family stays together even as their world is torn down around them. I can’t say I’m afraid of what we’ll find or what we’ll face. That may change but right now, I’ve decided that helping the people whose lives have literally blown up around them justifies something I wish I never had to do, I wish no one ever had to do. Don’t you think that’s worth fighting for?”

Isolde’s shoulders tensed up considerably, though to her credit, her expression didn’t change too much. “How can you be so calm about it?” She suddenly asked, looking directly at Clarissa. “You have a family to go back to, too, don’t you? You have a future to look forward to, right? Risking everything for people you don’t even know...that’s asking for too much, isn’t it?”

Clarissa took a moment as Isolde reflected her own concerns before the explosion. “I’m anxious and nervous. We may find ourselves on the wrong end of a sword or an arrow in the chaos of something we’ve never experienced. My family would be broken hearted and the years of work I did, that my family has done, will disappear with the next sunrise if something happens to me here.” Clarissa confirmed, if not a little grimly. In fact, she may prove her mother right and even in the after life, Clarissa would seethe over that little detail. “But the simple fact of the matter is that I couldn’t face tomorrow thinking that I didn’t do as much as I could. Maybe it’s my faith or my position or any number of factors but the simple truth is that we’re all one people under the Goddess and I will always choose to leave this world better than the way I came into it. Honestly, I think deciding to walk into danger is the easiest and most straightforward thing I could do.”

“It’s easy and straightforward?” Isolde slowly repeated, clearly baffled by Clarissa’s words. “I don’t think that makes a lot of sense.”

“I think you should come with us.” Clarissa told her point blank, knowing she’d just get frustrated if she had to explain herself again. She’d admit she wasn’t the most patient of people but she could at least spare the other girl that experience right before they walked into battle. “We’re stronger as a team, Isolde. Come with us and we can watch each other’s back. We’ll leave the world a better place and make it out alive if we watch each other’s back. Stick with me through this?” Clarissa asked, hand held out with a smile.

Isolde looked down at her outstretched hand before looking up at Clarissa. Nothing about the blonde inspired any sort of confidence, but surprisingly, Isolde ended up nodding, taking Clarissa’s hand. Her grip was probably a little too tight, but she was in, mustering up some shaky determination. “Um, I’ll do my best,” She replied, returning Clarissa’s smile with her own.

Clarissa beamed, giving Isolde’s hand a reassuring squeeze. Clarissa was impressed that Isolde stepped up to the challenge like that; she’d come over with the certainty that Isolde was going to stay behind. “You’ll be great, Isolde. Thank you for joining u―” And like lightning, the awful thing Jorah screamed hit her and she wanted to vomit. All the warmth in her smile vanished. She’d been so focused on feeling out Isolde and making sure they’d all be together that she somehow blocked out Jorah being… Jorah, in the worst way possible. Why in the world did he think that was acceptable?!

“Why don’t I meet you on the carriage? I think I need to deal with something.” Every word dripped with venom and she whirled on her heel, eyes flashing as she stormed over to the weapons cart. How dare he speak like that to a Professor in front of all their classmates?! With years of experience, she snagged Jorah’s ear and dragged him down, hissing in his ear. “I swear to the Goddess, I love you, I really do, but if I have to hear about the absolute depravity that goes through your empty head once more, I will personally separate both your heads from your body, do you understand? Get in the carriage before I drag you there by your ear.”
James Kingston




Location: Casper’ and James’ Room
Skills: N/A


James barely registered everything around him, just cognizant enough to realize Casper crooned softly and James clung to him like a blanket. He felt like he was still in the sewers, the damp, humid air squeezing his lungs as the rubble crumbled down around them. His heart pounded in his ears, he couldn't catch his breath, lungs burning in protest, and the sobs broke out as something else touched him. He thought it was someone familiar, something about healing, but the thoughts shattered into pieces as just struggled to breathe.

The dread and the frustration and the fear settled hard and cold in his chest and he clutched at his boyfriend desperately, just wanting what ever this awful, horrible, sickly feeling was. He felt weak, his head spun, everything was too bright and too much and he shut his eyes against it all, despite the tears still pushing through, as he clung to the life line Casper offered. He tried to focus on the song but his thoughts cracked against and again and again beneath waves of panic and fear and it was all he could do to get one single word out, broken and stuttered and fragile.

"Help."

January 7th - 10:00pm




Was it already too late to drop this class? As the instructor--Varis couldn't believe he was forced to consider whatever the abomination of a vampire was as one--spewed vulgarity and disrespected the basic foundation of their entire society, all Varis could wonder was where in the world Ryner managed to find these freaks. This was the problem with a modernist in charge of a learning institution. No respect for any of the rules and expectations that protect that world from crumbling beneath them and everyone wonders why even a Starag acts out. It's obvious when vampires like this manage to cling desperately to positions of authority when they are clearly little more than insects that need to be squashed as quickly as possible.

Varis grumbled as the instructor stepped away to gather supplies, turning his attention to his companion. Eris at the very least seemed to be enjoying himself, alluding to his tireless supply of awful and unnecessary commentary, but Varis scowled at the question. “Between this break, the boy nearly assaulting me in my own home, and whatever mockery of a class this passes as, I’ve barely had the opportunity to encounter something otherwise. There’s been exactly one pleasant thing since we left the Academy and this moment that even vague registers as something other than unpleasant but I suppose that’s the life of a noble heir.” Varis grumbled. “I suppose you had something at least passingly enjoyable over the break happen?”




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Vampire Classes





James Kingston




Location: Sewers -> Casper’ and James’ Room
Skills: N/A


James’s ears distinctly didn’t burn at the compliment from Casper and the grateful smile he sent wasn’t in bashful but he did appreciate it. He didn’t really feel like he’d done much so far; compared to the rest of them, he felt pretty helpless in the face of this disaster. After all, what could he do besides just shift rubble around? Max’s declaration snapped him out of that line of thought and he tried to tell MAx to stop but it all happened before he could get a word out.

James’ jaw hung open as Max’s magic pulled and pushed the rubble into a supportive form. That wasn’t anything close to what was happening though. It was like his magic melted the rubble into a cosmic whirlpool before Max just restructured everything. It was terrifying and beautiful all at the same time and suddenly, James felt very, very small in the face of such a tremendous force of nature. Thank fuck Max came back to the Mutant Underground because frankly, someone with that much power could literally wipe any of them off the face of the planet. He’d never really appreciated the vastness of Max’s abilities but he did now. The sound of the fresh crack and plummeting rubble broke him out of his awe struck stupor.

“Yeah, definitely a better idea.” James agreed shakily. He’d ducked instinctively as rubble came tumbling down, heart hammering at a thousand miles an hour. His breaths came out short and labored, a pain in his chest as he struggled to draw in breath. His vision swam in and out as he felt the floor shift and the rubble around them swim in his vision. With the situation coming to a close, his focus shattered and the pure terror of the situation came crashing into him, the reality that they’d been within inches of being crushed under a fucking street, and he stumbled back through the portal into his room, barely missing the bed and crashing to the floor, a loud sob tearing out of him as he curled up on the floor.

January 7th - 9:30 pm


The school night crept up quickly after that, the quiet night completely obliterated as the student body came out in full force. Students hurried to their first class as they rushed to escape the cold, the warm buildings a blessed relief from the winter night that was only getting colder. And as usual, more than one fire mage accidentally set themselves on fire trying to ward off the chill.



Varis permitted himself a few moments to sink onto his bed, cradling his head in his hands. It was just go, go, go these nights and frankly Varis wanted a break. Even if it was just one morning he could lock himself away and forget about everything for a moment but from home to boy to school with nary a pause in between. He hadn’t imagined it’d all be quite so demanding fifty years ago but he supposed it was the price of power. He shoved himself off the bed, leaving his pity party behind as he did, and threw all the belongings he believed he’d need for the day into his briefcase. He double checked his schedule on his phone, confirming the Arena was his first stop of the day, and swept out of the dorm once the boy was finished. He ought to have hurried the boy along a bit more but with how awful he looked, Varis was certain he needed all the time he could get.

Varis grabbed his umbrella and waited for the boy to be ready, checking his schedule to make sure he knew where he was going. His first class was going to be in a training room at the Arena. Fantastic. Just where he, a Sinnenodel, wanted to spend his night. Thankfully, he expected an easy class. Every vampire could do this instinctively, it wasn’t like it was hard. He rolled his eyes, barely acknowledging the boy once he finally finished, and locked the dorm behind them, taking off into the cold night.






“Ugh, I guess you’re right.” Maddie sighed as she took another long sip from her coffee. “Give me a moment and I’ll be ready.” She made her way back into her bedroom, happy to slip under the water of a warm shower for a few minutes. Her dallying in the kitchen cost her more time with that precious warmth than she cared but she didn’t need to wash her hair today so she could afford to be quick.

And quick she was. She’d perfected the last minute showering routine after years of procrastination (she just hated getting out of bed any earlier than she had to) and fifteen minutes later she was ready for the night. A long winter skirt with warm comfortable pants underneath, snow boots, a sweater and a jacket, mittens, a scarf wound tight around her neck, and a pair of earmuffs later, she rejoined Amaris in the living room with her bag thrown over her shoulder. “Okay, ready as I’ll ever be.” She sighed, a preemptive chill running through at the thought of the icy winds waiting for them beyond the door.




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The monastery was everything she could have dreamed of and more. She certainly had a number of adjustments to make. For one, the bedding didn't hold a candle to her own in terms of room and comfort and there was an appalling lack of pillows but to be fair, even her own bed barely had enough room to hold the frankly absurd amount she preferred. She ought to have brought another trunk with her just for more pillows; she couldn’t expect them to accommodate such a trifling detail so she’d just have to make due for the time being and hope that perhaps some merchants stopping at the village would have a few to sell, though she wasn’t terribly optimistic. Thankfully, Lienna’s prediction about the chill air creeping into the room didn’t seem to come true so at the very least she could still wake up in a room without the chill biting at her feet. She always found it that much harder to slip out of the comforting nest of bedding when her feet were in danger of freezing.

Of course, even if that were the case, her first morning watching the sunrise made all her concerns seem so trivial. Waking up before the sun was a routine she’d had since she was young and a change in altitude wasn’t about to change that. She found herself crossing the quiet monastery grounds in the early morning darkness, amazed at the difference from home. Even if it was a slow morning on the docks, the sea winds always whisked the creaks of ships at rest into her window, the heavy footfalls of guards and the pleasant scent of morning bread following closely on it’s heels. The thrum of the city was never far away, never fully gone, but the monastery was so still and serene. There was a weightlessness, sitting so far above the world, that slowed her step and evened her breath. She’d felt it briefly, staring far beyond the horizon on the bridge, but here and now, with the world still asleep and a comforting silence draped across her shoulders, the world seemed so much kinder, so less judgemental, so less demanding.

She expected her mornings in the cathedral to be like that; full of reverent reflection and easy awakenings but instead she found her breath stolen from her as the sun rose behind the Cathedral. Sunlight poured in through stained glass and she drank the sight of it like a woman parched from the desert. It reminded her of a lesson from years ago, when she struggled to find reason for the burden of this mark and she nearly became the very shade her mother sought her to be. The sun rise was beautiful because they, humanity, made it so. From the Goddess’ first step sprouted all life and yet in the appreciation of creation, were they humanity the only ones who see greater beauty, greater meaning. The hawk and the rabbit both use the sun to mark the new day but they do not see comfort or beauty in the simple act of light breaking the horizon. That was humanity’s decision. And she thought she’d understood that but now, watching sunlight pour like water through the windows of the Cathedral of the hallowed grounds of Garrag Mach, she found she hadn’t understood it much at all.

The experience moved her to tears.

Classes… were less moving. They were interesting, she wouldn’t deny that. Learning history without the lens of the Leicester Alliance proved a thought provoking exercise but she couldn’t deny reviewing things she’d already known was monotonous. She understood that she’d had access to some of the best tutors in the Leicester Alliance and not everyone had the privilege but they could have made separate classes. They already had the format for it; with the classes changing between Unit and House, the Academy could easily make it happen.

Which was why she was so excited about this training camp. It was something exciting and new and she’d been so wholly enthusiastic the mild monotony of her classes couldn’t bring her down. Not even Jorah’s incessant need for attention and frivolity could dampen her mood. She even found it adorably childish most of the time, even when he threw a fit about her room change instead of just convincing Imogen to switch (which he later did with all the eloquence and grace of a toddler). And if he couldn’t temper her excitement, then nothing could.

Which is what she believed until a two hour carriage ride soured her mood immensely. Honestly, how did anyone manage to travel like this? Every bump and shift made her jam uncomfortably into Jorah and the seats were hard and unforgiving. They ought to have told them to keep their transportation. Using her own carriage would have proven far more comfortable and would have significantly reduced the strain on everyone involved. Or at the very least advised them to bring cushions! She’d remember this for the future because she wasn’t sure she could handle another two hours of this, much less an entire trip.

She’d practically launched herself out of the carriage when the opportunity presented itself, stretching out the soreness in her limbs from being in such cramped quarters for so long. Absolutely dreadful. Why anyone chose to travel like that was beyond her. At least if she’d had the opportunity to ride horseback, she wouldn’t have been fighting anyone for space the entire time. She took in their surroundings as she stretched, wincing as the soreness stubbornly fought her.

“I think I’d rather be on the receiving end of Duke Gloucester’s archaic rambling than suffer through this another two hours.” Clarissa grumbled to Jorah. The gentle hush of flowing water proved a pleasant background to their rest stop at the very least. “Next time I’ll remind everyone to bring a cushion.”

January 7th - 9:10 pm




“No it certainly doesn’t, does it.” She sighed, staring at the cloudy sky forlornly. “I was hoping for a clear evening for the first night of school. I always feel like it’s good luck but I suppose this will have to do.” She gave Ben a wave and turned an inquisitive look to Victor.

“Why not this morning then? I should have some time a little after class ends and I’m always happy to discuss anything with my students.” Ryner offered. “Unless you have something else already planned. If that is the case, I’d be more than happy to have my secretary reach out and find a time that works for both of us.”






Varis gave a noncommittal hum as his head tipped back onto the couch. If he gave a damn, he might have found the boy’s concern touching but frankly, he didn’t and so it was just plain annoying. Just another responsibility to deal with because the Noila’s gave the boy all the stress management skills of a toddler. He’d come in with the hopes of a brief nap before the boy all but accosted him, dashing his hopes from the first manic call of his title. Why were mages such finicky creatures?

He supposed he needed to prepare for the night ahead and probably show his face around. He didn’t believe anyone thought him dead after this long of little to no news. Not that he cared; he just needed a distraction for a few nights while he handled Ryner’s request. He’d been overly concerned about the whole thing too. Maybe a few close calls but snatching Perion’s secrets from under his nose was surprisingly simple. Smug satisfaction edged out the annoyance over the boy's melt down. Victor certainly had some interesting secrets hidden away behind that stoic composure. Maybe he could have some fun this semester twisting the big vampire’s arm behind his back.

“Now gather your things. We have appearances to make.” Varis sighed, finishing his blood and leaving it on the coffee table. He forced himself to stand, quietly cursing himself at how sluggish he felt. “And next time you feel like having an existential crisis, do it somewhere I don’t have to hear about it.” Varis grumbled as he headed into his own room, shutting the door firmly behind him as he did so he wouldn’t have to deal with the problem child.






Maddie fiddled with the coffee maker, popping in a fresh filter and pouring a generous mound of grounds into it, and gratefully accepted the cup Amaris slid across the counter. The smell of coffee wafted out from the brewer as it bubbled to life and she turned her attention to her partner. “Well enough.” Maddie yawned, covering her mouth as she stretched. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes. “It was nice not having to deal with everyone clattering around during the day though. I didn’t realize how loud everyone was until I was trying to sleep through it.” She replied through another yawn.

“And, no it’s not a fashion trend. I just hate being cold.” Maddie explained as she headed over to the pantry. Maddie decided cooking was not in the cards for her today and settled on a morning bar. “It’s like wearing a bunch of blankets constantly without having to hold onto them. Plus, it’s super comfy. Lots of soft, plush layers to relax in.” She chuckled, shuffling back over to her coffee as it beeped. She poured it into a mug and brought it up to her nose, inhaling deeply with a pleased sigh. She could give up the sun, the warmth, and whatever else she needed to but if she had to give up coffee, she’d have offered herself months ago.

“How did you break go?” Maddie asked as she leaned against the counter, sipping at her coffee.
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