Member
Morose
RPM
Blue Wolf
Scrawl Banditta
Lucid Dreaming
Kirah
teenangstlife
TokyoPewPew
Location: Dorm Room > Haven
Grimore:
Skills: N/A
Barty was about to lay down on his bed for the year, but as he made his way towards the side of it he paused. ”Almost forgot something, what's the warmth of a room without a little music.” He was certain Finley wouldn't mind, but even if she had he wouldn’t have cared in this instance. Not that he didn't care for their feelings or thoughts, but this had become somewhat of a tradition for Barty, especially at the beginning of the school year when he was first setting up. A record player appeared on the side table to his bed as Barty grabbed a leather suitcase and pulled out a vintage first pressing of Lorna Wu's ‘Ballad of the Witches Road’. A fine example of an enchantress and protector with a remarkable voice. It was signed of course, though the names the signature was addressed to were ones the twins had long since abandoned once that era of their life had ended.
Barty placed the record onto the player carefully, the beginning notes of the guitar resonating across the room. Having lived a life both as an audiophile and media mongrel, this record held a special place within his heart. Its nostalgic melody helping soothe him from that airheaded enchantresses existence and allowing himself to begin to enjoy the new school year. As the music played, he began to pull out some clothing. Originally he'd thought to simply wear jeans and a t-shirt that said ‘Get Naked and Go Wild’ in clear contradiction to what their own letters had told the students to do. Partly to see how they'd react and who would do it. Yet Barty spied a glimpse at what Finley had opted into wearing, telling him he may need to go slightly less casually than he had wanted. So he grabbed one of his many long wool coats, double breasted and cutting off just above the knees in a mixture of dark and light grey wool with wooden buttons. It'd survived with him through several decades, he could still recall the craftsmen who made it for him. They really didn't make clothes like they used to.
Barty placed it to the right of his suitcase on the bed, grabbing tweed high waisted pants that he'd altered to keep a permanent fold so that the hem sat up high to give room for his leather boots. A pair of original Doc's from the first decade that their ‘Airwair’ had come out, and the same decade within this song's writing. All that was left to do was pick out a shirt, and he'd already decided to use an old linen button up shirt. It was a bit big for him, billowy in just the way he liked to have it, the sleeves roughly rolled up to just below his elbow on either side, and the first few buttons undone to give himself a deep V that exposed his chest. Simple, elegant, and a testament to good fashion and craftsmanship from his long life and past.
The music, Barty's little ritual for every new room he stayed in, seeped under Nicky's skin with a warmth from days long gone. It'd been nearly a century since the record had been made, some 3 handfuls of decades away, but he couldn't help but long for the ease their lives command then. Well… at least what bits he could remember. Most days they'd been twelve drinks deep and a few tabs under by 9am and the year had passed by in a fog. He remembered leaving Elvis for dead. He remember stumbling in a painfully sober stupor around Tennessee. He remember stumbling into some Tyler someone's lap. And then they'd rode Aerosmith's fame.
Ah, the good old days.
Nicky hummed along with the music. They hadn't gotten close to Lorna Wu and he was content with that. Kept it cleaner, safer, that way. The less strange folk punching up, the better. Every now and then he still woke here, heart pounding and flames flickering behind his eyes lids and screams ringing in his ears, with the urge to escape before everything went to hell. It was a difficult instinct to repress and, truth be told, he wouldn't want to. It was what kept him alive this long. The fact that he chose to remain despite it was what puzzled him.
“What are-” Nicholas turned and peered over his shoulder at what his twin pulled out. It didn't quite hit the right note for him so he fished through his belongings for something more reminiscent of those days. A green shirt with autumn leaves and the sleeves rolled up, darker green pants, and polished black shoes would still be a relaxed look with seemingly sloppy. Plus, it would be easy to get out of once the party had been quieted and the real fun began. Finely and Dysphoria's outfit certainly held promise as it hugged everything perfectly and showed off just enough to tease and definitely wouldn't be a problem later.
“Are we ready?” Nicholas inquired, snapping his wardrobe shut.
Barty finished putting on his clothes, grabbing a black coal liner and quickly doing his water line. He picked up a large brimmed hat and placed it at the crown of his head so that it resembled more of a halo than hat, allowing his tuft of dark hair to ruffle out from a front and fall gently over his brow. He waited for the final note of the song to play before turning off the record player and lifting its needle. ”As always my dear.” He replied, turning as he slid his coat on, allowing it to flow with the motion.
@Achronum@Trainerblue192@Morose@Blizz@Kirah@PatientBean@Teyao@KazAlkemi@kittyluna45
Evening - Thur. Oct. 31, 2040
Rather than use the convenience of the Neverish, Nicholas decided they'd enter with their guests. The staff was competent but who knew how challenging these kids would prove to be. The Neverish was a dangerous place and as amusing as it would be to see one swallowed by the dimension, Nicholas did not want attention drawn to their little corner of it. It was a meticulous, bloody, and exacting piece of spell work that he didn't need to repeat.
However, as the twins stepped out of the staircase leading to the lower level of the Academy, Nicholas had never regretted a decision as quickly as when the crashing sound of something stumbling into a suit of armor reached their ears and he sighed. Across their link, Nicholas grumbled. “If there is a cost beyond entertainment to this, I am collecting compensation with their organs.”
”Please, the only damages that may occur are going to be to any braincells that may have remained before having bashed them against that weapon just now. I swear, it feels as if the school had gotten desperate this year in accepting applicant's.” Barty replied within his twins mind.
Nicholas didn't respond again, but nodded his agreement. The Academy certainly didn't maintain many standards. However, they'd invited the rabble to their door and the rabble they would entertain. Or Barty and the staff would entertain. Nicholas would be perfectly content sitting his table against the far wall watching the chaos this group would cause.
“Oh dear. Are you alright?” Alfonse quickly stepped forward after proffering a short bow and a smile to Cassie and an equally excited wave to Jake, gingerly taking Willow's hand and softly pulling her to her feet. “We can get you some ice inside. That looked like a nasty bump and you wouldn't want it sore or longer than it needed to be.”
Nicholas ignored the commotion and continue past the group, reaching the painting more important than whatever nonsense was happening. “Social pleasantries can wait.” Nicholas projected his voice as he stepped through the assembled, willing to speak over everyone if necessary. “Passing through to Haven demands focus and small talk will not serve you in this effort. Pay attention. The passage is accessed via the child. A simple offering of your magic, the wards will recognize you, and Haven shall unfold before you. Should your intent or focus waiver, the best case scenario is a lonely night in your dormitory; otherwise, you may well find yourself lost in the depths of the Neverish forever.”
Barty produced a small metallic rectangular box, deep dark green with golden accents. He flipped the lid open, pulling out a cigarette and placing it delicately between his lips before shutting the case closed once more. Unscrewing a circular cap that attached to its top slightly, and flicking the lighter alive. He bent down just enough to light his cigarette before snuffing the flame and taking a long, slow, drag as he made his way past the other students gathered at the entrance to their little Haven. Blowing the smoke out once he'd faced away from the painting. ”Its simple, safe, and does you no harm. Some of our dear friends here can attest as such.” Barty added, looking towards Connie and Rohan as he knew them to be the more likely trusted amongst their peers.
It was barely a swirl at his finger tips, Nicholas's pale blue magic ghosting across the painting over the child's ribcage and it beat once, twice, and he was gone.
✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩
Those newly entering would find the magic beating in the chest of the child's rib cage for long moments before the painting stretched and ripped and a single long pitch black hall extended into nothingness. The heavy weight of magic surrounded those who walked the path and plucked at their clothes, brushed against arms, whispered unintelligible things in the corners of their minds. A stray thought could shift the path here, in the space between places, planes, and worlds, and an unwarranted traveler would find just how dangerous the Neverish could be.
However, the crackle of a fire and the warmth of its light welcomed those who stumbled into the speakeasy. The hearth stood a good two meters high and was made of cut stone 6 centuries old. It stood across the room from the entryway and was decorated in a variety of gold gaelic charms pressed into the exterior. The bar's name and symbol, a black bull's head inside a golden wreath, hung above and glimmered with its own light. Two doors, one a forest green and the other navy blue, framed the hearth.
The room itself was otherwise dark hardwood flooring,burgeondy wallpaper, and matching furniture. A large chandelier hung in the center of the room and its candles burned smokelessly, their flickering nearly in tandem with the scones dotting the space between the paintings on the wall. A myriad of art, from paintings to etchings to photographs, hung on the walls and depicted horrible and beautiful moments of time in supernatural history.
Along one end, a sofa ran the length and offered seating at several tables. Across the room, more tables and dark leather chairs filled the space between the bar and the hearth, with the exception of a small raised section boasting a meticulously maintained piano.
The bar itself was simple and neat, tiers of alcohol along the back mirrored wall, and comfortable stools on which to sit near the coat closet at the front door. Mithza Leaned on the bar, a platter with drinks and a small jar of mixed candies behind her. Two menus, one black, one burgundy, and both with gold ink, were presented on the bar.
Barty made his way in, snapping his fingers to grab Alfonse's attention. ”Alfie, be a dear and grab me my usual.” He asked (demanded) as he leaned against the wooden bar waiting to see who all had made it through.
