Two Artois pureblood positions open! after talking things out my boys Viktor and Sebastian will be Elders, brothers of sorts to Dmitri. Seb prefers Artois over his bloodline, and Vik walks a dangerous line of keeping the king sane, while achieving his own personal goals. I didn't want to take up the pureblood positions, so ya'll can join as 'em. Plus, my boys were meant to be old AF anyways.
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Mrs. Northam and Little Nicholas
The little boy slyly grinned when the maid acknowledged him. He was sweet and gentle, yet that smile and bright fire in his wide eyes, full of curiosity and intrigue, shed light to the mischievousness that festered within him. "Do you enjoy cleaning, Miss Rosie?" Without hesitation, he reached for her hand, his sea gaze never wavering from her face. When their hands touched, he squeezed her's, as if he was an adult giving her loving comfort. Did she really need it, though?
His head turned toward the kitchen, where he could hear chatter. Food was surely being made, wasn't it? He hadn't eaten. But, that could wait. He didn't need the other adults to interfere with his search and he especially didn't need to see the woman that was taking all the attention in this house. A lady his mother didn't like. The lady that had his uncle's 'assumed' affections. The lady that would be considered most important to the Manor. At least, until she died.
Rather than let Rhoslyn lead, he pulled her in the way he believed his mother was at. "Maybe she's smelling daddy's clothes in the basement." That was rhetorical. "We should check the basement!" When Nicholas grew older, if he ever did reach the age of a man, his ambition could be the death of him. As he tugged onto her hand, they walked back to the lobby and when they reached the big door that led to the dark basement, he looked at Rose's face still with that questionable, warm smile, "Do you think the basement is scary? Tootz told me there's buried treasure. Do you believe him? I believe Tootz knows my home better than anyone! Better than mama. Better than uncle. Even better than Miss Lena! And she's ancient!" He giggled, the worry for his parent evaporating, as his true intention was slowly but surely showing.
Snapping back into the present, Josephine sluggishly, tiredly, turned her head to the guardian of the house, "Catch my death?" She drifted into consciousness, and back out. Focusing her eyesight on her female companion, she turned her hand over that held the rose, realizing she was bleeding. Confusion was written all over her face. How did she get here? Why was her hand bleeding? Was she visiting... her husband? "Maybe... I'm already sick." She whispered breathlessly.
She didn't mean to worry anyone. Her body felt weak. Was she sleep walking again? Her skin looked sickly. It was cold and she wasn't dressed at all for her day. She looked malnourished. With shaking words, shivering lips, she softly asked Lena, "Am I a good person? Was I a good wife?" Questions that haunt her. Perhaps, that's why she found herself in front of the crypts.
Did she not deserve the house because she failed at being everything Morrie needed? Her mind was foggy but the dream played back like a distant memory. She saw his voice vibrating and entangled within the wind. She felt his kisses against her neck and his light touch down her stomach. She heard his desire and lust for her. His undying love for her. He was calling her to him. He shouldn't be dead, she should be.
Moments like these, she wanted to collapse on the dirty ground. She wanted to give up. Her eyes peered past Lena's face and to the kitchen lights. Her sorrowful, lost expression momentarily switched to annoyance, as she teethed, "Are they awake?" She didn't like her brother-in-law, or his naive, lady wife. They cared very little for this place and shouldn't be permitted to even walk the halls, let alone dine within it, among everyone else as if they've always been here.
She despised change.
His head turned toward the kitchen, where he could hear chatter. Food was surely being made, wasn't it? He hadn't eaten. But, that could wait. He didn't need the other adults to interfere with his search and he especially didn't need to see the woman that was taking all the attention in this house. A lady his mother didn't like. The lady that had his uncle's 'assumed' affections. The lady that would be considered most important to the Manor. At least, until she died.
Rather than let Rhoslyn lead, he pulled her in the way he believed his mother was at. "Maybe she's smelling daddy's clothes in the basement." That was rhetorical. "We should check the basement!" When Nicholas grew older, if he ever did reach the age of a man, his ambition could be the death of him. As he tugged onto her hand, they walked back to the lobby and when they reached the big door that led to the dark basement, he looked at Rose's face still with that questionable, warm smile, "Do you think the basement is scary? Tootz told me there's buried treasure. Do you believe him? I believe Tootz knows my home better than anyone! Better than mama. Better than uncle. Even better than Miss Lena! And she's ancient!" He giggled, the worry for his parent evaporating, as his true intention was slowly but surely showing.
Snapping back into the present, Josephine sluggishly, tiredly, turned her head to the guardian of the house, "Catch my death?" She drifted into consciousness, and back out. Focusing her eyesight on her female companion, she turned her hand over that held the rose, realizing she was bleeding. Confusion was written all over her face. How did she get here? Why was her hand bleeding? Was she visiting... her husband? "Maybe... I'm already sick." She whispered breathlessly.
She didn't mean to worry anyone. Her body felt weak. Was she sleep walking again? Her skin looked sickly. It was cold and she wasn't dressed at all for her day. She looked malnourished. With shaking words, shivering lips, she softly asked Lena, "Am I a good person? Was I a good wife?" Questions that haunt her. Perhaps, that's why she found herself in front of the crypts.
Did she not deserve the house because she failed at being everything Morrie needed? Her mind was foggy but the dream played back like a distant memory. She saw his voice vibrating and entangled within the wind. She felt his kisses against her neck and his light touch down her stomach. She heard his desire and lust for her. His undying love for her. He was calling her to him. He shouldn't be dead, she should be.
Moments like these, she wanted to collapse on the dirty ground. She wanted to give up. Her eyes peered past Lena's face and to the kitchen lights. Her sorrowful, lost expression momentarily switched to annoyance, as she teethed, "Are they awake?" She didn't like her brother-in-law, or his naive, lady wife. They cared very little for this place and shouldn't be permitted to even walk the halls, let alone dine within it, among everyone else as if they've always been here.
She despised change.
>When you need to post but you've been busy...
I'll do my best to post soon.
I'll do my best to post soon.
@ineffable psst. PM it to us (Hoekage, GhostMami, & TootsiePop), please and thank you <3
In
Feeling cute... Might make a Slice of life group role play later IDK
→
7 yrs ago
Forum: General Interest Checks
@lostnotfound I come bringing tentative interest, if your idea inspires. There is quite a few people that are into the SoL scene. :3
L O C A T I O N: The Dorms → Extremely late to the party
I N T E R A C T I O N S: Phoebe → The party → His sister @Write, as he judges Ariana @Dirty Pretty Lies
Herself → Dylan → Sorta the crowd, but not really.
Emma and Damian, specifically at the end. @Rockette @Altered Tundra
I N T E R A C T I O N S: Phoebe → The party → His sister @Write, as he judges Ariana @Dirty Pretty Lies
Herself → Dylan → Sorta the crowd, but not really.
Emma and Damian, specifically at the end. @Rockette @Altered Tundra
She was finally alone. After a little convincing, in the form of a resting bitch face, Phoebe, a Hephaestus' child full of promise and with an undoubted high IQ, had a small crew of lesser demigods oblige to her request and assist her in moving. Wasn't this experiment intriguing?
Yawn.
No. Not really.
Her mind was going a million miles an hour and there was no way she would waste anymore daylight getting herself situated and acquainted with whomever she was fated to tolerate. Why not use her womanly charm to her benefit and get some lovely aid for the day? Aphrodite's children would surely do the same. More out of entitlement than necessity, of course, so why couldn't she? For Phoebe Masterson, avoiding loss time was essential. Not even move in day would affect that.
It wasn't like Phoebe couldn't have moved her belongings herself. Actually, if she didn't need to finish sooner rather than later, efficiently so to speak, she would be completely able to do it herself. For her reputation precedes her, she was not someone her peers took lightly. She was driven to diminish all negative prejudice towards her father. Ms. Masterson was smart, strong, and beautiful. It took great willpower to be all three, but if she was destined to follow her father's will, she sure as hell would. The labors she put in on the daily do test her, for as unfortunate as it is, she is mortal. But, in order to be the best, she had to break her bones, cut her skin, shatter her heart, for when it all healed she would be stronger than the most intimidating opponents. If she didn't have this force of will, where would she be? Probably prison.
Time was a gift, and she refused to be someone who took it for granted. She had more important matters to attend to than move countless boxes into her domain. While the rest of the world was simply background noise, she sat at her desk sketching concept art. At random times of the day, she just had to ignore everyone else to draw all the images that were piling up in her mind. Right now, it was a dagger design. Simple and refined, and one of the more easier projects she needed to complete.
She could already see the fire and how she can simply judge the heat by looking at its color, it going through changes of rainbow hues. The measurements were projected to her without needing to write them down, as if her eyes were a computer and showing her the ratio and math required to make this a successful venture. She'd have to transfer this on large vellum paper before the night was over. Her mind was lost, as her hand moved with ease, while she imagined the iron growing hot by the second, and having an innate understanding when to do everything before it self destructed. This was the side of her she didn't fully understand because it was like someone took over her. She wasn't simply Phoebe anymore. She was the daughter of Hephaestus. Yet, in these moments, when she was hurtling through space and static, when she was consumed by mind and talents, this here was when she was the happiest.
One day, she would be perfect.
"Da fuck?"
Not even the voice coming from the front entrance would break her concentration. Boxes of different shapes and sizes led from the front door through the public area his friend shared with Bill Tanner and made a path straight into her bedroom. Convenient. Inviting himself in, because the door was propped open, dressed to impress, and with a sly grin on his face, Poseidon's son with mischief on his mind, trouble in his soul, and always on the naughty list maneuvered his way to Phoebe's bedroom. Holding a bottle of wine in his left hand, he went deep into the cluttered den. He glanced to the open boxes, noticing items only a hoarder would collect. If Phoebe could be related to a beast, he could see her as a dragon. A fiery-breathing, temperamental dragon with a hoard of unnecessary things.
Curiosity getting the better of him, he went to one of the boxes and saw that all it had inside of it were pocket watches, some not even with intricate designs. He would understand if she collected them, but some looked like they were scrap and would appreciate living in a junkyard than with her. His eyes trailed to another box, where four giant cheeseballs containers waited to be eaten. Assuming they weren't old. Why did she even have four? His eyebrow rose when he saw a traffic cone just laying on the ground, blocking his way.
And then he heard little meows and knelt down to see two kittens hiding in the cone. "Yo, Phee. You know you got pets, right?" With his free hand, he hoisted both of the them up and gently pressed them against his chest.
When he finally made it to her room, her body hidden by a skyscraper of boxes, he squeezed between her dresser and her suitcases, and place the babies on her bed. Subsequently, he planted the white wine on her desk, his dear friend still ignoring his existence. He quickly snatched the pencil out of her hand and was rewarded with a hiss and a serpent glare.
"What the hell, Dyl?!" She snapped, causing the kittens to crawl under her pillow in fear.
"The children, honey." Dylan gestured toward the cats, still not knowing if they were her's or not. Now that he had her attention, he tossed the pencil into the abyss. "Start drinking, babe, because I'm not letting you spend your first night here, ALLLLL BY YOURSELFFFFF." Yes, he sang his last line of dialogue like it was from Eric Carmen's All By Myself.
Turning her position so that she was facing him, crossing her arms, she bluntly declined, "No thanks. I'd rather eat popcorn and watch Netflix then 'party'."
"Hey." He put his pointer finger on her lips, causing her to swat at it. "I'll make sure there's popcorn and you can think of the party as a movie! Come on, Phee. COME ONNNN. For once, for me, or not for me, but like... for your social skills, at least, HAVE A GOOD TIME." He paused, trying to cleverly convince the boulder, "And you do know Jonas will be there, yeah? Didn't you want to propose, what did you say..." He snapped his fingers while he pretended to forget her exact words.
"That I want him to train me. Fight me. So I can get good. Yes, I remember."
Pushing the drink closer to her, he gave his dear friend a cheesy smile, "So what do you say? I promise you this won't be a waste of time. If anything, you'll be networking and having a chance to observe above average humans in their natural habitat."
"You're not going to leave me alone if I say no, are you?"
"Nope!" Dylan reached for the two kittens and sat down, kissing one on the forward. Begrudgingly, she took the cap off the wine (smart he got one of those cap bottles) and took a swig. "Are these..." He looked at the cats, then to her, then back at the cats.
"Yes."
"Oh good... I was about to say."
After rolling her eyes, a light simper graced her face, as she took another sip, "We're going to be late."
He chuckled, "We'll still make it in good time." He winked at her, which made her heavily sigh. She's going to have to hold his clothes... isn't she? The problem with Dylan using his abilities, well, he can't bring his clothes with him...
He's naked. Okay. Straight up naked.
"Kill me."
Yawn.
No. Not really.
Her mind was going a million miles an hour and there was no way she would waste anymore daylight getting herself situated and acquainted with whomever she was fated to tolerate. Why not use her womanly charm to her benefit and get some lovely aid for the day? Aphrodite's children would surely do the same. More out of entitlement than necessity, of course, so why couldn't she? For Phoebe Masterson, avoiding loss time was essential. Not even move in day would affect that.
It wasn't like Phoebe couldn't have moved her belongings herself. Actually, if she didn't need to finish sooner rather than later, efficiently so to speak, she would be completely able to do it herself. For her reputation precedes her, she was not someone her peers took lightly. She was driven to diminish all negative prejudice towards her father. Ms. Masterson was smart, strong, and beautiful. It took great willpower to be all three, but if she was destined to follow her father's will, she sure as hell would. The labors she put in on the daily do test her, for as unfortunate as it is, she is mortal. But, in order to be the best, she had to break her bones, cut her skin, shatter her heart, for when it all healed she would be stronger than the most intimidating opponents. If she didn't have this force of will, where would she be? Probably prison.
Time was a gift, and she refused to be someone who took it for granted. She had more important matters to attend to than move countless boxes into her domain. While the rest of the world was simply background noise, she sat at her desk sketching concept art. At random times of the day, she just had to ignore everyone else to draw all the images that were piling up in her mind. Right now, it was a dagger design. Simple and refined, and one of the more easier projects she needed to complete.
She could already see the fire and how she can simply judge the heat by looking at its color, it going through changes of rainbow hues. The measurements were projected to her without needing to write them down, as if her eyes were a computer and showing her the ratio and math required to make this a successful venture. She'd have to transfer this on large vellum paper before the night was over. Her mind was lost, as her hand moved with ease, while she imagined the iron growing hot by the second, and having an innate understanding when to do everything before it self destructed. This was the side of her she didn't fully understand because it was like someone took over her. She wasn't simply Phoebe anymore. She was the daughter of Hephaestus. Yet, in these moments, when she was hurtling through space and static, when she was consumed by mind and talents, this here was when she was the happiest.
One day, she would be perfect.
"Da fuck?"
Not even the voice coming from the front entrance would break her concentration. Boxes of different shapes and sizes led from the front door through the public area his friend shared with Bill Tanner and made a path straight into her bedroom. Convenient. Inviting himself in, because the door was propped open, dressed to impress, and with a sly grin on his face, Poseidon's son with mischief on his mind, trouble in his soul, and always on the naughty list maneuvered his way to Phoebe's bedroom. Holding a bottle of wine in his left hand, he went deep into the cluttered den. He glanced to the open boxes, noticing items only a hoarder would collect. If Phoebe could be related to a beast, he could see her as a dragon. A fiery-breathing, temperamental dragon with a hoard of unnecessary things.
Curiosity getting the better of him, he went to one of the boxes and saw that all it had inside of it were pocket watches, some not even with intricate designs. He would understand if she collected them, but some looked like they were scrap and would appreciate living in a junkyard than with her. His eyes trailed to another box, where four giant cheeseballs containers waited to be eaten. Assuming they weren't old. Why did she even have four? His eyebrow rose when he saw a traffic cone just laying on the ground, blocking his way.
And then he heard little meows and knelt down to see two kittens hiding in the cone. "Yo, Phee. You know you got pets, right?" With his free hand, he hoisted both of the them up and gently pressed them against his chest.
When he finally made it to her room, her body hidden by a skyscraper of boxes, he squeezed between her dresser and her suitcases, and place the babies on her bed. Subsequently, he planted the white wine on her desk, his dear friend still ignoring his existence. He quickly snatched the pencil out of her hand and was rewarded with a hiss and a serpent glare.
"What the hell, Dyl?!" She snapped, causing the kittens to crawl under her pillow in fear.
"The children, honey." Dylan gestured toward the cats, still not knowing if they were her's or not. Now that he had her attention, he tossed the pencil into the abyss. "Start drinking, babe, because I'm not letting you spend your first night here, ALLLLL BY YOURSELFFFFF." Yes, he sang his last line of dialogue like it was from Eric Carmen's All By Myself.
Turning her position so that she was facing him, crossing her arms, she bluntly declined, "No thanks. I'd rather eat popcorn and watch Netflix then 'party'."
"Hey." He put his pointer finger on her lips, causing her to swat at it. "I'll make sure there's popcorn and you can think of the party as a movie! Come on, Phee. COME ONNNN. For once, for me, or not for me, but like... for your social skills, at least, HAVE A GOOD TIME." He paused, trying to cleverly convince the boulder, "And you do know Jonas will be there, yeah? Didn't you want to propose, what did you say..." He snapped his fingers while he pretended to forget her exact words.
"That I want him to train me. Fight me. So I can get good. Yes, I remember."
Pushing the drink closer to her, he gave his dear friend a cheesy smile, "So what do you say? I promise you this won't be a waste of time. If anything, you'll be networking and having a chance to observe above average humans in their natural habitat."
"You're not going to leave me alone if I say no, are you?"
"Nope!" Dylan reached for the two kittens and sat down, kissing one on the forward. Begrudgingly, she took the cap off the wine (smart he got one of those cap bottles) and took a swig. "Are these..." He looked at the cats, then to her, then back at the cats.
"Yes."
"Oh good... I was about to say."
After rolling her eyes, a light simper graced her face, as she took another sip, "We're going to be late."
He chuckled, "We'll still make it in good time." He winked at her, which made her heavily sigh. She's going to have to hold his clothes... isn't she? The problem with Dylan using his abilities, well, he can't bring his clothes with him...
He's naked. Okay. Straight up naked.
"Kill me."
~
Standing at a distance, within the forest, dressed more casual than not, it was a lake party for god's sake, Phoebe watched as the party seemed to be picking up. Jonas wasn't hard to pick out from the crowd, but she also didn't think a party was the time or place to talk about school, especially not beg him to train her. So maybe, somewhere inside of her, she did want to attend this 'top secret' party that everyone had to be at. Maybe, just maybe, she knew Dylan would barge in and try to sway her.
She would never admit it, if that were the case. "What is taking you so long, Primadonna?"
"Oh, no thanks for carrying your ass the entire way here?!" Pulling up his fly, he growled at the impatient demigoddess. Appearing from behind a tree, he nudged her arm, "I thought you didn't want to come, change of heart?"
"No." Phoebe clicked her tongue in annoyance. "What's your goal anyways? Don't you 'have a good time' all the time?"
"Yeah, and?" Dylan turned his attention to the silhouette of people. The night had a way of changing them - they looked different, more obscure, their feelings and intentions covered by the blanket that was the night sky. Then there were people like him or Aphrodite's daughter, Ariana, where their intentions blared like a siren light, "I'm here to fuck. You should do the same!" Get that stick out your ass, Phee.
"I'll pass." Without waiting for a response, she started making her way to the party.
"THIS IS WHY YOU'RE A–" Using her own energy, a small fire started appearing in her right hand... –virgin. He was quick to shut his trap and with that, the flame evaporated. Did he actually think she was a virgin? Personally, she's never denied it. Even hot girls can be prudes. He could believe it! Right now, he simply wanted to stir that fire in her, because wouldn't it be fun if she let that passion consume her this very night? Their peers would love to see that, he bet. Phoebe Masterson, hot and bothered. Huehuehue.
She needed another drink if she wanted to at least appear pleasant to everyone else. Coming out of the forest and walking onto the revelry zone, staying silent for reasons, Phoebe cringed when Dylan announced their arrival, "What the fuck did we miss?! Look who I brought." She swiftly dodged him from putting his arm around her like she was an accessory to him. His voice was so... rambunctious and loud. She didn't need people looking at her. With Dylan leaving her side, she was relieved. With stride in his steps, he went straight to his sister, Rhea, "Hey BABY, did you miss me?" Getting a better idea of the situation, he couldn't help but laugh out loud, as he turned on his heel, his eyes falling onto Ariana, "The sexual frustration is REAL."
While Dylan was walking into the circle of people, Phoebe debated if she should get a drink or choose to appear better than them and keep to herself. It was her social awkwardness that made her a bitch, there was far too many people to her liking. She didn't even like most of them.
Instead of quenching her thirst, she chose to avoid the crowd. She did give a wave to the host, out of courtesy, and then with elegant agile, she slipped her white sneaks off, stuffed it in Dyl's bag that held his clothes from earlier (it also had a spare, just in case), dropped it on the ground where she would remember to find it, and made her way to the water, passing Emma and Damien that did what they do best. Lurk.
Putting her feet in the water, subtly shivering because water was ten times colder to her than the average person, she looked ahead at the scenic view. Even at night, there was beauty. To think. Water was the complete opposite of her very being and here she found herself finding comfort in it. Sighing to herself, she started planning who she should interact with first.
Remember to smile, don't be a bitch.
Did she care about the shitshow transpiring? No. Not at all.
"You two... enjoying yourselves?" She looked over her shoulder, back at the Nyx children that kept a fair distance away from the crowd, like her. They hadn't talked prior to this moment, but she knew of them. At least she was trying to expand. If she wasn't mistaken, they were both fifth years, along with Dylan, Dallas, and Jonas. What a popular class. "The fact that no one is unconscious yet, surprises me. I would've loved to see that." A light smile forcibly gleamed on her face.
Was this friendly talk? Or too honest?
Hey! She wasn't going to lie about gaining pleasure from witnessing other's going at it physically.
She loved a good, brutal, and violent fight.
"I'm Phoebe, by the way."
There. She was participating. Now, Dylan couldn't give her grief.
He still would.
She would never admit it, if that were the case. "What is taking you so long, Primadonna?"
"Oh, no thanks for carrying your ass the entire way here?!" Pulling up his fly, he growled at the impatient demigoddess. Appearing from behind a tree, he nudged her arm, "I thought you didn't want to come, change of heart?"
"No." Phoebe clicked her tongue in annoyance. "What's your goal anyways? Don't you 'have a good time' all the time?"
"Yeah, and?" Dylan turned his attention to the silhouette of people. The night had a way of changing them - they looked different, more obscure, their feelings and intentions covered by the blanket that was the night sky. Then there were people like him or Aphrodite's daughter, Ariana, where their intentions blared like a siren light, "I'm here to fuck. You should do the same!" Get that stick out your ass, Phee.
"I'll pass." Without waiting for a response, she started making her way to the party.
"THIS IS WHY YOU'RE A–" Using her own energy, a small fire started appearing in her right hand... –virgin. He was quick to shut his trap and with that, the flame evaporated. Did he actually think she was a virgin? Personally, she's never denied it. Even hot girls can be prudes. He could believe it! Right now, he simply wanted to stir that fire in her, because wouldn't it be fun if she let that passion consume her this very night? Their peers would love to see that, he bet. Phoebe Masterson, hot and bothered. Huehuehue.
She needed another drink if she wanted to at least appear pleasant to everyone else. Coming out of the forest and walking onto the revelry zone, staying silent for reasons, Phoebe cringed when Dylan announced their arrival, "What the fuck did we miss?! Look who I brought." She swiftly dodged him from putting his arm around her like she was an accessory to him. His voice was so... rambunctious and loud. She didn't need people looking at her. With Dylan leaving her side, she was relieved. With stride in his steps, he went straight to his sister, Rhea, "Hey BABY, did you miss me?" Getting a better idea of the situation, he couldn't help but laugh out loud, as he turned on his heel, his eyes falling onto Ariana, "The sexual frustration is REAL."
While Dylan was walking into the circle of people, Phoebe debated if she should get a drink or choose to appear better than them and keep to herself. It was her social awkwardness that made her a bitch, there was far too many people to her liking. She didn't even like most of them.
Instead of quenching her thirst, she chose to avoid the crowd. She did give a wave to the host, out of courtesy, and then with elegant agile, she slipped her white sneaks off, stuffed it in Dyl's bag that held his clothes from earlier (it also had a spare, just in case), dropped it on the ground where she would remember to find it, and made her way to the water, passing Emma and Damien that did what they do best. Lurk.
Putting her feet in the water, subtly shivering because water was ten times colder to her than the average person, she looked ahead at the scenic view. Even at night, there was beauty. To think. Water was the complete opposite of her very being and here she found herself finding comfort in it. Sighing to herself, she started planning who she should interact with first.
Remember to smile, don't be a bitch.
Did she care about the shitshow transpiring? No. Not at all.
"You two... enjoying yourselves?" She looked over her shoulder, back at the Nyx children that kept a fair distance away from the crowd, like her. They hadn't talked prior to this moment, but she knew of them. At least she was trying to expand. If she wasn't mistaken, they were both fifth years, along with Dylan, Dallas, and Jonas. What a popular class. "The fact that no one is unconscious yet, surprises me. I would've loved to see that." A light smile forcibly gleamed on her face.
Was this friendly talk? Or too honest?
Hey! She wasn't going to lie about gaining pleasure from witnessing other's going at it physically.
She loved a good, brutal, and violent fight.
"I'm Phoebe, by the way."
There. She was participating. Now, Dylan couldn't give her grief.
He still would.
@Scarescrow late but probably lavender since it compliments most flowers but also means devotion.
Right now though she has a rose in her hand because that's what she was drawn to.
I probably wont be able to write in this rp till the end of the week.
Right now though she has a rose in her hand because that's what she was drawn to.
I probably wont be able to write in this rp till the end of the week.
-snipped-
Also i'll be taking two pureblood positions for the Artois family. As cogm, they may be NPC until I have time to fully make their sheets. We shall see, but I am excited for their concepts.
One is Viktor Artois who is a medical examiner and pd consultant, can be found in morgue of (pending hospital name) and his brother Sebastian Artois, a funeral director/mortician/undertaker, with a small funeral home, which is why he does all the jobs for his business. Sebastian will be very diva like, super gay lol, and they both hold responsibility over a human child named Pandora, which there will be an elaborate story behind that. Viktor will have alot of personal baggage, but keep himself busy with helping the police. Workaholic.
Face claims Johnny Depp and Brandon Flowers.
One is Viktor Artois who is a medical examiner and pd consultant, can be found in morgue of (pending hospital name) and his brother Sebastian Artois, a funeral director/mortician/undertaker, with a small funeral home, which is why he does all the jobs for his business. Sebastian will be very diva like, super gay lol, and they both hold responsibility over a human child named Pandora, which there will be an elaborate story behind that. Viktor will have alot of personal baggage, but keep himself busy with helping the police. Workaholic.
Face claims Johnny Depp and Brandon Flowers.
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