@TheIrishJJ Lol, it's fine, Clover was headed for the shower anyways, so they probably wouldn't have bumped into each other yet. Try not to drain him though, roommates are hard to find. :D
Narcotic Dollie Member
Weasel Wrangler
STATUS: I have friends over this weekend so expect slow replies until Monday! 8 yrs ago
- Last Seen: 6 yrs ago
- Joined: 11 yrs ago
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- Narcotic Dollie 11 yrs ago
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Ataraxia,
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8 yrs ago
Current
I have friends over this weekend so expect slow replies until Monday!
8 yrs ago
I have been resurrected!
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10 yrs ago
I have decided today that I am a potato.
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Bio
I'm a twenty eight year old American girl who loves a good cupcake!
Here's a link to my interest check and character bank. Shoot me a PM if anything tickles your fancy!
Here's a link to my interest check and character bank. Shoot me a PM if anything tickles your fancy!
Most Recent Posts
@Yahtzee Ok, let's do it! Has Aedan ever met a witch before?
I've been using this pen name for ages, and people usually either love it or think that it's terrible. Glad you like it!
I've been using this pen name for ages, and people usually either love it or think that it's terrible. Glad you like it!
@Yahtzee XD That gif absolutely made my day!
I've only been to a college where co-ed meant that there were boy dorms in the same hall as girl dorms. That being said, this is a supernatural college, so maybe the rules are different? We'll just have to wait for the lovely @Emma to pass the verdict. ^.^
I've only been to a college where co-ed meant that there were boy dorms in the same hall as girl dorms. That being said, this is a supernatural college, so maybe the rules are different? We'll just have to wait for the lovely @Emma to pass the verdict. ^.^
Clover needs a dorm mate, if anyone is interested!
@Emma Hey, since some of the characters haven't replied back in a while, maybe you could put a recruiting page up in the Interest Check? It might get some new and excited players to join up. Just a thought!
Sorry, that took longer than expected. I got a little carried away researching protective spells. Hope that was an okay first post!
Clover is hunched over her grandmother's spell book when she finally realizes it is eight in the morning. She pushes unkempt ginger hair out of her face and rubs furiously at her eyes, as if to force the exhaustion from them. "Shit," the young witch curses softly, glancing again at the alarm clock. The time remains unchanged, glaring back at her in unsympathetic red numbers.
The young woman turns her gaze back to the bed, where quarter-sized wooden disks litter the small single mattress, the product of her all-nighter. Each disk is made of Rowan wood and has a different Icelandic rune burned into it, held together by a long string of twine. Clover worries at her bottom lip and shoots another glance at the clock. Her first class of the day, Herbology 101, starts at nine thirty. Could she finish this and still get a shower in before class?
Clover decides to give it a shot, mostly because she doesn’t think she can spend another night in this dorm without a protective charm on it. Gran’s house had so many enchantments reverberating within its walls that the grey eyed girl had become accustomed to the ever present buzz of her kin’s magic. This acclimation towards her family’s spells made it almost impossible to sleep in this place, surrounded by a plethora of unfamiliar spells.
The red head fishes around under her pillow until she finds her pocket knife. Flipping the blade out, she pricks her index finger, unflinching as the blade pierces the skin. Clover proceeds to press the wound to the back of the disks, smearing a small amount of blood over each one. Once this task is finished, the girl cradles the pendants in her hands, leaning over them and whispering, "Send back the harm that is put upon me. I do not harm others, so others cannot harm me. As I speak it, so shall it be."
As soon as the last word leaves her lips, Clover feels the energy surge out of her and the runes flash a vibrant green. The magic recoil is so strong and unexpected that it sends the witch tumbling off the bed with a pained, "Oof!" The willowy youth lays sprawled out on the floor, momentarily immobilized by her newly acquired headache and fatigue. She gently brings a shaking hand up to her nose, only to pull back and discover fresh blood. "Overdid it," she grumbles, closing her eyes and focusing on catching her breath.
But after a moment she feels it, the thrum of familiar magic coursing through the floorboards. Clover nearly sobs in relief, rolling over and pressing her lips to the ground. "Hello, darling," she breathes reverently, smoothing the pads of her fingers over the ancient wood. The magic hums back. Clover squeezes her eyes shut and laughs.
After she basks in the afterglow of a successful incantation, the freckled witch pulls herself up off of the floor and returns to the bed. She picks up the string of sigils and takes them to the door, where she hangs it over the top of the entryway. She admires her handy work, giving an appreciative nod. It was a good job for now, but she would have to go back and add her dorm-mate later, once she had been assigned one.
“Shower,” she tells herself, turning toward the bathroom to make herself presentable. If she hurried, she might have time to grab a redbull before class started.
---
The young woman turns her gaze back to the bed, where quarter-sized wooden disks litter the small single mattress, the product of her all-nighter. Each disk is made of Rowan wood and has a different Icelandic rune burned into it, held together by a long string of twine. Clover worries at her bottom lip and shoots another glance at the clock. Her first class of the day, Herbology 101, starts at nine thirty. Could she finish this and still get a shower in before class?
Clover decides to give it a shot, mostly because she doesn’t think she can spend another night in this dorm without a protective charm on it. Gran’s house had so many enchantments reverberating within its walls that the grey eyed girl had become accustomed to the ever present buzz of her kin’s magic. This acclimation towards her family’s spells made it almost impossible to sleep in this place, surrounded by a plethora of unfamiliar spells.
The red head fishes around under her pillow until she finds her pocket knife. Flipping the blade out, she pricks her index finger, unflinching as the blade pierces the skin. Clover proceeds to press the wound to the back of the disks, smearing a small amount of blood over each one. Once this task is finished, the girl cradles the pendants in her hands, leaning over them and whispering, "Send back the harm that is put upon me. I do not harm others, so others cannot harm me. As I speak it, so shall it be."
As soon as the last word leaves her lips, Clover feels the energy surge out of her and the runes flash a vibrant green. The magic recoil is so strong and unexpected that it sends the witch tumbling off the bed with a pained, "Oof!" The willowy youth lays sprawled out on the floor, momentarily immobilized by her newly acquired headache and fatigue. She gently brings a shaking hand up to her nose, only to pull back and discover fresh blood. "Overdid it," she grumbles, closing her eyes and focusing on catching her breath.
But after a moment she feels it, the thrum of familiar magic coursing through the floorboards. Clover nearly sobs in relief, rolling over and pressing her lips to the ground. "Hello, darling," she breathes reverently, smoothing the pads of her fingers over the ancient wood. The magic hums back. Clover squeezes her eyes shut and laughs.
After she basks in the afterglow of a successful incantation, the freckled witch pulls herself up off of the floor and returns to the bed. She picks up the string of sigils and takes them to the door, where she hangs it over the top of the entryway. She admires her handy work, giving an appreciative nod. It was a good job for now, but she would have to go back and add her dorm-mate later, once she had been assigned one.
“Shower,” she tells herself, turning toward the bathroom to make herself presentable. If she hurried, she might have time to grab a redbull before class started.
---
Just a heads up, I'm painting my living room today, so I won't be active until tonight.
When she wakes up the first time, there is a demon over her bed.
Alixanna immediately tries to scream, but the demon is faster, covering her mouth and nose with a slick black hand. The medic thrashes violently against the intruder and tries to pull him off, but his arm is covered in some kind of tar and she can't get a good grip. She tries to dig her fingernails in and at least hurt the son of a bitch, but the creature is unflinching. The demon's eyes bore into hers as the sludge begins to flow into her.
If feels a lot like what Alixanna assumes drowning must feel like.
All of the struggle runs out of the teen and the only thing she can focus on is trying to breathe. Her pulse is hammering in her ears and she can't see anything anymore. 'Calm down,' she tries to tell herself, her chest heaving as she inhales tiny, useless gasps. 'The human body can only go three minutes without air. That's what is going to kill you first.' It's this thought that prompts the doctor in training to inhale deeply against the black bile. 'Not enough.' Her hands flex futilely as she feels herself being moved. Alixanna can't remember where she is anymore. 'Not enough air. I'm going to lose consciousness within the next minute and a half.'
Her calculations must have been off though, because their is a touch against her temple and she blacks out within thirty seconds.
---
When she wakes up the second time, it is to the swaying of a moving carriage. Alixanna tries to move her hands only to realize that they've been bound behind her back. The brunette gives up almost instantly, relaxing against the straw and screwing her eyes closed. The teen has never felt more exhausted or weak.
After she gets her breath back, Alixanna tries to take stock of the situation. 'Still barefoot,' she thinks as she wiggles her toes. 'Still in my nightclothes,' she accesses while shifting against the hay and feeling the familiar cotton texture or her nightgown move against her skin. 'Definitely not decent now. Mum would have a heart attack,' she giggles a little hysterically, on the brink of a breakdown. At least someone put a blanket over her. Thank the gods for small mercies.
Alixanna immediately tries to scream, but the demon is faster, covering her mouth and nose with a slick black hand. The medic thrashes violently against the intruder and tries to pull him off, but his arm is covered in some kind of tar and she can't get a good grip. She tries to dig her fingernails in and at least hurt the son of a bitch, but the creature is unflinching. The demon's eyes bore into hers as the sludge begins to flow into her.
If feels a lot like what Alixanna assumes drowning must feel like.
All of the struggle runs out of the teen and the only thing she can focus on is trying to breathe. Her pulse is hammering in her ears and she can't see anything anymore. 'Calm down,' she tries to tell herself, her chest heaving as she inhales tiny, useless gasps. 'The human body can only go three minutes without air. That's what is going to kill you first.' It's this thought that prompts the doctor in training to inhale deeply against the black bile. 'Not enough.' Her hands flex futilely as she feels herself being moved. Alixanna can't remember where she is anymore. 'Not enough air. I'm going to lose consciousness within the next minute and a half.'
Her calculations must have been off though, because their is a touch against her temple and she blacks out within thirty seconds.
---
When she wakes up the second time, it is to the swaying of a moving carriage. Alixanna tries to move her hands only to realize that they've been bound behind her back. The brunette gives up almost instantly, relaxing against the straw and screwing her eyes closed. The teen has never felt more exhausted or weak.
After she gets her breath back, Alixanna tries to take stock of the situation. 'Still barefoot,' she thinks as she wiggles her toes. 'Still in my nightclothes,' she accesses while shifting against the hay and feeling the familiar cotton texture or her nightgown move against her skin. 'Definitely not decent now. Mum would have a heart attack,' she giggles a little hysterically, on the brink of a breakdown. At least someone put a blanket over her. Thank the gods for small mercies.
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