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7 yrs ago
My power grows exponentially each day as we come nearer to Halloween.
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@Pundii: Day 4, waiting on you before I can update again

@Pundii@Witch Cat@Nallore: I'll be updating the OOC within the next week or so to update the supernatural lore provided there. Aloise had given off a list of immortal beings before, so you'll see those beings appear on the lore listing. Haven't decided yet if you'll get more information than what Aloise gave, but we'll see.
More like cowering behind them in fear of LLA :P


Dorothy Pender

Location: Medical Bay ----> Down the Hallway, Nearing the Rec Room


With the door to the medical bay open, the sounds of screams drifted in from the hallway. Dorothy paused in her work, setting the paperwork down, as her hand automatically went for her sidearm. She wasn't naive about the situation they were in--the Alliance outnumbered them, and she wouldn't put it past any of these gorrham assholes to try something. Running out of the medical bay and down the hallway, the sound of screams became a bit easier to hear.

She paused, her eyes widening for a moment. No one was in bodily danger--yet. Besides Jackson and herself, very few people had heard the Captain lose it so completely and utterly. From what she could tell, the yelling was directed at Gene. And of course, she couldn't help but feel conflicted. Odds were, the kid had overstepped her boundaries--again--and done something to piss off the Captain. She knew that Gene had good intentions, just a lack of table manners lately it seemed.

Dorothy made her way past the galley, the words easier to hear the closer she got to the sound of the ruckus. Her face paled as she heard Anisa threaten to kill Gene if she uttered another word, and for a moment, she wondered as to whether or not it would be better to keep out of this...But her thoughts were cut off, as she heard a voice she didn't quite recognize...likely one of the Alliance members...talking about...haircuts?!

Finally reaching the portion of the hallway where she could view her friend, Dorothy had to stop herself from protesting. She had been named the Captain's second--and with the power dynamic on the vessel, they'd need a united front. As much as she personally didn't want the Captain to do anything rash, she knew she'd have to stand by whatever decision Anisa made. And with the look in the Captain's eyes, she knew that Anisa meant what she said.

All she could do was hope, offering a silent prayer--the first she had made in years--that Genevieve wouldn't do anything stupid and get herself killed. She got that Gene was flexible, but really, did she have to put her foot in her mouth all the time lately?


October Crypt

Interacting With: @Nallore Carolina Reed
Location: The Alucard Institute for Peculiar Youth


October smiled a bit, thinking back about the comment on her name. She truthfully couldn't remember her parents' explanation for it herself, but her uncle had explained it to her a few months back. In hindsight, it had been remarkably simple to figure out. "Thanks. Middle name's Morning, since I was born on the Morning of October -- October first." Her name was a point of pride with her, of course. And to her, people should be proud of their names. They were a way of announcing one's intent to the world. "Why Carolina?" she then asked.

However, she then paused for a moment, recalling that Carolina had asked her an actual question, as to whether or not talking to the dead was possible. "Well, yes. Most of the time it feels more like the dead are talking at you, hard to get a word in. They're terribly chatty, can't ever seem to shut up." She snickered a little bit, remembering the few times she had gone to visit the spirits of her parents.

"You're new to all of this, then," October observed as they were led inside the Institute and into the East Wing, where the Absinthe students were housed. A spiral staircase led to the rooms, and once they hit the fourth floor, a room with a grim plaque was labeled OCTOBER & CAROLINA. It had a simple lock on it, with the keys having already been distributed to the students earlier upon arrival. Pulling out her key, October unlocked the room, revealing something that could only be described as a Victorian motel room. There was a dingy window on one side, flanked by two four poster beds. Each student had a dresser and a desk as well.

"What's your deviance, by the way?" October mused, once she had shut the door behind Carolina. "Whatever we're doing at the witching hour tonight, I imagine there'll be some use for it. That's the point of the Institute, isn't it?"
@Witch Cat A lot of people had red text color....Lucifer did, for example~

Also, for your viewing pleasure....

October Crypt
{"She's at peace and somehow on fire..."}

Roleplays:




October Crypt

Interacting With: @Nallore Carolina Reed
Location: The Alucard Institute for Peculiar Youth


October chuckled for a moment, having each hand holding ball of fire. She closed her hand ever so slightly, the orb going away, before lightly shaking Carolina's hand. Her own hands always ran incredibly hot, due to her deviance. It was what gave her so much trouble when she was younger, what with the flames coming so easily, and being so incredibly hard to deal with. She noted her roommate's accent, and couldn't help but wonder what brought a Brit to America.

"October," she introduced herself. The girl seemed to be incredibly shy from what she could tell, but October felt confident she'd drag out the girl's personality in no time. As her uncle Sylvester always said, no one actually has the personality of a corpse until you smash their brains in with a bat. And of course, even if quietness was all there was to the girl, the quiet ones always ended up being the most horrifically amazing.

By then, the group of children had arrived at the steps of the Institute, with the headmaster and three others standing on the porch, illuminated by the porch lights. October felt almost disappointed at the lack of need for her flame and extinguished it, feeling the smoke move through her fingers for a moment. Her roommate, from what she could tell, didn't have an obvious deviance--which only made her more curious as to what it was.

"Welcome to the Alucard Institute for Peculiar Youth, I am Headmaster Faust," the tallest of the men on the porch said, taking a slight bow. "You have all been assigned rooms in the wings of the Institute, corresponding to your houses and gender. Please do take a few hours to settle in, and join us in the entrance way at the stroke of midnight."

Thunder boomed, followed up quickly with a lightning strike. October felt almost giddy, enjoying the cliché of the terrifying aesthetic. The prospect of some sort of gathering at midnight, the witching hour, intrigued her as well. Having never had a formal education, she couldn't help but be clueless as to what a school might entail. But at any rate, midnight didn't seem to be the typical hour for classes.

"Any ideas what's that all about?" October whispered to Carolina, as the headmaster swept away, and the three others, revealed as 'teachers' at the Institute, began to escort the students to their rooms. "I always do love a good game of Wake the Dead...It is a good night for it."
I'll get a reply up in the morning! :) Running out of steam to write lol
Faust = Mephistopheles

:)




It was a dark and stormy night...

That's how these sort of things are supposed to begin, aren't they? The scene is set with a grey and sorrowful sky, without a single patch of blue shining through the clouds. The air is chilled, and goosebumps run up and down the skin of our protagonist. Perhaps there is a flash of lightning, a witch's chuckle, the scream of a cat--anything to set the mood, of course? Now, perhaps we want to be original. Perhaps we open with...

It was a gorgeous day, with the sun shining and the birds singing, but then the murders began...

But that isn't quite right either, now is it? Which is better: the acknowledged cliché or the desperate attempt to reverse it, to come up with its exact opposite, yet produce something just as cheesy in the end? Will either of them truly cause a heart to falter these days? Which one whispers of gore and horror, of unknown secrets and mysteries waiting behind a closed curtain?

Does it even matter, though, whether or not you feel fear? For this story may just be a myth, or perhaps, perhaps it is true. Perhaps blood will have blood. Perhaps more will perish than survive. Perhaps, just perhaps...Perhaps this will be a story that no one dares to repeat. But do our protagonists care if fear is inspired from their story? Personally, I think they are more concerned with surviving.

The cliché it is then. Now, let us begin...

It was a dark and stormy night at the Alucard Institute for Peculiar Youth, nicknamed simply the Institute. The school's headmaster, Faust as he was called, stood at the window with an eerie smile on his face. Thirty students had been invited to the Institute's first class, divided evenly among the three houses. Each house had its own wing of the institute, with five rooms for the students.

"And so it begins," Faust, though that was not his real name, whispered. Lightning, as if on cue, flashed in the sky, illuminating the children's faces. When darkness fell again, one face remained in the darkness. It was a young girl, with pale skin and blonde locks, a flame illuminating her path. Yet she carried no torch, instead carrying an orb of fire in the palm of her hand.

October Crypt, of course, couldn't help but enjoy the atmosphere. With the flashes of lightning and the gloomy sky, it reminded her of her uncle's home. She grinned slightly, looking at the other children. Beyond family members, she hadn't had too many encounters with other necromantic children. The rain was falling softly on them, and one boy wasn't being hit with a single drop. Another student had scaly skin, shifting colors like a kaleidoscope. The oddness was thrilling.

"You need a light?" October offered a girl next to her, her roommate in Absinthe house. She produced another ball of flame in her hands, grinning rather strangely, like the cat that ate the canary.
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