Bad Blood

And you, my father, there on the sad height, Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray. Do not go gentle into that good night. Rage, rage against the dying of the light. Calliope Dawson/18/Hemokenetic

[cal-dawson-blog]

roguedragomir:

“I kind of already know what you were going to say, but it’s quite alright.”

“Does that mean you already know your BPM?”

[cal-dawson-blog]

adelacroixs:

❝ We don’t fight for stupid reasons. Fighting is not the reason why we’re here. We came here to learn and if we were going to risk our lives for a fight, it sure as hell wouldn’t for this. ❞

“Oh.” She stepped aside, thoughts spinning through her head.

[hwangjinsoul]

“Business.” Rogue mumbled in between incoherent lonesome rants. “You run a business, so you fall under money,” clarifying he tried his best to remain calm under the stress he was put under.

[cal-dawson-blog]

“That’s pretty cool.” She grinned. “I could tell your BPM but that’s not very interesting.”

[monsiieurdupont-deactivated2016]

  “ I’ve always found glass fascinating. Incredible how just a single shard is capable of killing you. Don’t you find that interesting? ” Naturally, all this was being said while shattered glass hovered slightly above the palm of Émile’s hand. He loved to toy with the other schoolmates. It wasn’t odd to find him tormenting students in the courtyard.

[cal-dawson-blog]

Calliope looked at the cut on her palm. Then back at the man. “I prefer the unlimited possibility of blood.” She pulled the blood from her cut, having it hover above her hand in the same way the glass floated above her schoolmate’s. “Want to see what i can do with yours?”

[jxffrey-woods-deactivated201502]

fill out with muse info.

[cal-dawson-blog]

name : Calliope Dawson alias ( nicknames ) : Cal, Calli gender : cis female age : 18 spoken languages : English, French, Latin, Russian, Italian, Spanish

romantic preference : Biromantic sexual identity : Demisexual occupation : N/A criminal record :  Nothing’s on the record disorders : Depression, Psychopathy

eye colour : Blue hair colour : Blonde height : 5″6″ scars :  Scratches on her legs burns : Cigarette burns on her upper arms, usually covered overweight : N/A underweight : N/A

colour : White song : Heart-shaaped box/ VSQ food : Honey Crisp apples drink : Whiskey

had sex : No had sex in public : No kissed a boy : No kissed a girl : No smoked / drank : No / Yes had a broken heart : No been in love : No a virgin : Yes a cuddler : No a kisser : No single : Yes in a relationship : No

scared easily : No jealous easily : No trustworthy : No considered mean : Probably harmed themselves : Yes thought of suicide : Yes attempted suicide : No wanted to kill someone : yes fears : Her secrets being uncovered, her father

siblings : None parents : Micheal Dawson, Rosemary Dawson (nee Bakersfield)  children : None

[frcken-deactivated20191128]

❝ Look at what you’re doing, ❞ Alsatia began, not fazed by the young girl’s daring decision to take a step forward. The small girl was not afraid of pain and hardly felt it anymore. ❝ Haven’t even taken a bloody step into the school thus blocking the entrance, then threatening violence because someone told you to get out the way. It’s both arrogant and ignorant, you foolish girl. ❞

[cal-dawson-blog]

“Are the rest of you not like this?” Calliope paused, troubled. “They said it was the witch’s blood.”

[supxrbias-blog]

❝Do not go gentle into what?❞ Celestine inquired in complete puzzlement. She looked around to see if she was in any immediate area of anyone, maybe in risk of some nasty collision into someone else’s person, but there was no one around. Honestly, after three years at Chambord thought that she would have been able to grow to understand English slang, but that thought is now ringing false.

[cal-dawson-blog]

“Into that goodnight. It’s a poem.” Calliope had an ear for accents, mainly because she had to deal with non-english speakers all the time. “английский трудно для вас?”

[cal-dawson-blog]

[hwangjinsoul]

“Why does everybody think so loudly? Everything is just a mix of sex, money, sadness, cats, sex.” Rogue said more to himself as he hid in an alcove that overlooked a visage of trees, where the wind whistled, making the rustle in the trees seem line an enchanting dance. Slouching he, pressed the back of his head to the wall, as palms where at the side trying to free himself from the pain of the encumbering thoughts.

[cal-dawson-blog]

“What am i thinking about?” Asked Calliope, coming around the corner. She was curious. If her thoughts had to fit into one of those categories, she’d expect it to be money. After all, she had a business to run. Fortunately, the school was allowing her to send and receive frequent telegrams.

[ambroisevalois-blog-blog]

“My lady,” He responded, an air of arrogance following his crooked smile as he bowed his head slightly to salute the female before him. “Is there anything I can do for you, or may I continue on my way?”

[cal-dawson-blog]

“I thought it would be proper to pay my respects.” Was he teasing her? It wouldn’t be the first time a royal had done that. Of course, the last one had been a minor branch, and she’d left him with a broken nose and a broken engagement.

[frcken-deactivated20191128]

❝ Not brave ––– arrogant. ❞ The older girl crossed her arms, an annoyed look upon her face. Whoever the girl was had a lot of learning to do. If she wanted to pick a fight over her being in the way, then she’d be dead in a week. This wasn’t a place to act brave, pick fights and assume your ability made you top dog. Everyone has their own abilities here, and they all could kill. 

[cal-dawson-blog]

“I am not arrogant.” That was a name she hated. One of the names that made her forget about her power and focus only on her fists. She took a step forward.

[hylcns-blog]

“Good to know someone thinks I can become something.” Hattie’s tone is ambiguous, not quite sarcastic or sincere but somewhere on the border, just as she likes it. “Do they think I’m going to join a boxing ring after graduation, or something?”

[cal-dawson-blog]

“You should learn to defend yourself. Everyone should.” Calliope lowered her wrapped knuckles. She was confused. Why wouldn’t someone find this important? Her uncle had known it would be, and he had never been wrong.

[lettiarioldi-blog]

❝ Into that good night, old age should burn and rave at the close of day. ❞Colette finished quietly, her tone soft as she drew near the girl and stopped beside her with a small smile playing on the edges of her pink lips. ❝ Dylan Thomas. Quite found of him myself. ❞ She snuck a sideways glimpse at the stranger, curiosity getting the better of her. ❝ Do you often quote famous literature to yourself? ❞

[cal-dawson-blog]

“Only that poem. Dylan Thomas is Welsh, as am I. I hold a fondness for my homeland.”

[ambroisevalois-blog-blog]

“I’m a prince, of course I can do what I please.” A bold smile grazed his perfectly sculpted visage, as he steps into Chambord for the first time. What a putrid place. His disgust was evident, but quick long strides carried him along the hall, towards the main corridor. He was careful not to bump into the careless students loitering around much like children in their first day of primary school, he focused – his sole purpose was to find a place where he could be in solitude.

[cal-dawson-blog]

Calliope paused her music and turned. Upon meeting his eyes, she did a shallow, yet respectful curtsy. The exact right curtsy for the situation. He was royalty, but not her royalty, and they were on common ground. “Your Highness.”

[cal-dawson-blog]

Hi! This is sort of late, but I’m Emma and It’s nice to meet you. If you want to plot, just message me.

[frcken-deactivated20191128]

❝ You must thing you’re rather brave. Only just arrived and picking fights with a third year. Not exactly the smartest decision one could make. Now, you are being incredibly rude. I have places to be, more important things to attend you and you are making it rather difficult. Move. ❞

[cal-dawson-blog]

“I don’t think I’m brave. I think I could beat you. In fact, I know it.” Her violin case was in her hand.

[thatcherharris-blog]

He was stuck in a day dream, he was sure of it. Each passing minute was a blur, and with every second his own weight became too heavy for his feet to carry. Yet, he remained rooted to the ground. Every single step he took with a purpose, lodged to the idea that the pain in his chest would disappear. He could hear the whispers, and with every cynical thought corroded by his memories it had been blatantly obvious that the torment would follow tracing every path he crossed, “Excuse me.” His voice was soft, as he came to a halt the body before him seemed almost too large – that’s how low he felt as he attempted to walk past them, “I just need to get to class, I’m sorry.”

[cal-dawson-blog]

“What is wrong?” His pulse was too fast. She moved out of his way, ever so slightly, so he wouldn’t feel trapped in the conversation. “Your heart... It is moving too fast.” She’d seen what happened when one’s heart went to fast and did not care to see it again.