It's all illusional

Eric Priestly † 33 years old † Air † Light † Professor at the Roanoke Institute for Arcane Practices †

[veronica-altman-blog]

“Do you want your face painted?  I can do anything you want and I swear it’s for a good cause.  Not to mention less painful than a tattoo.  That seems like a double win to me,” Veronica said as she brandished one of her paintbrushes.  “It’ll be fun.”

[ericpriestly]

“Surely, if it is for a good cause. Make me a, uh, clownfish.”

[lpyrce-deactivated20170121]

“Thank you but you really don’t have to do that. Really, it would be my fourth cup of the day and show how much of a coffee addict I really am.”

[ericpriestly]

“I insist. Some addictions are better not left unattended. I’d sign that petition, by the way. I admit I’d enjoy more than one free coffee a day.”

[morgan-drake]

“I always thought Canadians were wonderful people. Have you met any of the Canadians that transferred here? Like Tess Jordan? You’d understand the appeal. But if not Canada, I’d live in Japan. France, huh? Europe’s gorgeous and I get the appeal but it’s never been a place I’d kill to live in, y’know?”

[ericpriestly]

“Well, I could always compromise and move to French Canada, if they’re as lovely as you say. And how can you say that? Even I would kill to live in France. They have great croissants au chocolat and fantastic public health care.” He paused. “I mean, I’d kill hypothetically. Please don’t report me.”

[davey-conway-deactivated2016121]

Hurricane || Garrett & Eric

Quiet corridor, footsteps echoing louder than thunder. Garrett checked over his shoulder —all clear— and bent down over the lock. Thoughts and worries rushed through his mind; what if he didn’t find what he was looking for, what if he got caught, what if Priestly discovered that something was missing… No more what ifs, he had to do this. With trembling hands he pronounced an incantation and pressed a finger to the lock. There was an audible click, although Garrett almost missed it because his heart beat so hard he could hear the blood rush in his ears. The door swung open.

No time to lose. Once inside, Garrett shut the door and went for the bookcase. Priestly was a teacher in Illusions, so he had to have books about the subject lying around. Garrett couldn’t take the class since he had the wrong major, but with a book he figured he had good chances at teaching himself. Stealing didn’t feel right, but it was the only way, he couldn’t tell anyone about this. He couldn’t tell anyone what he was going to use it for or why he had to do it. It was distressing but lately he couldn’t tell anyone anything.

Title after title passed under his gaze until one peculiar book caught his eye. It wasn’t on illusions or even hypnosis. Everything from its battered back and old pages to the macabre title screamed Dark magic. Garrett’s puls accelerated like someone had slammed down on the gas. Forget about cheap illusions, this was the book he needed. He pulled it out, as careful as if he was holding a babe, and opened on a random page. ‘Blood magic’ was the title on the page, and then followed a description on how to control the blood flow in an animal or person. It was vile and scary, but also too fascinating to look away from.

Someone came up to the door and Garrett slammed the book shut before the panic had even kicked in. Quicker than lightning he shoved the book under a pile of paper. That was all he had time to do before the door opened and he was faced with the person holding his fate in his hands.

@ericpriestly

[ericpriestly]

Where are you, magnifying glass? In a messy apartment, objects had a tendency to misplace themselves quite frequently, only to show up when they were no longer needed. In addition, Eric had a bad habit of bringing home books from the school library and not bringing them back, which contributed to the countless piles of dusty books lying around his living room. He vividly remembered having used the magnifying glass the evening before, whilst examining the same ancient notebook that used to belong to some outstanding witch. The writing on it was faded and minuscule, making it impossible to read without aid. The sole reason he couldn’t use a spell instead was that the notebook was protected against reality-altering magic, such as augmenting spells.

After rummaging through a few piles of loose papers, Eric finally came across the small magnifying glass, letting out a brief sigh of relief. He got to work, at last, deciphering the yellowed pages as we read. After a while, he encountered some sort of camouflage spell on a specific page. It was fairly easy to spot, as of its age, yet he couldn’t quite remember how to remove it correctly. He knew he had a book on the subject, yet he had left if back in his office. Without it, however, he was unable to continue his research.

Deciding not to let laziness get the better of him, Eric left his apartment a couple of minutes later. The school building was only five minutes away, anyway. It was already getting late, so it was unlikely he’d find anyone left there. His footsteps echoed quietly across the hallway leading up to his private office, when he noticed something was off. Even from a small distance, he was able to hear faint footsteps and the turning of pages coming from behind the shut door of his office. He felt himself tense up at the thought of someone else going through his personal belongings. Steadily, Eric approached the door, making sure he was noticed by the intruder. Without any more hesitation, he grabbed at the doorknob and swung it open, only to find him. “Garrett Follmer,” he said, firmly, with a hint of disbelief. He noticed the particular book the student had in his grasp as his face turned hot .“Is the concept of a locked door so hard to grasp?” He spoke slowly, yet loudly, in attempted intimidation. The frown on his face was far from subtle. “Sit down.”

[morgan-drake]

“Worrying, dangerous, possibly world-ending. The amount of hidden magical communities will have a dramatic increase, that’s for sure. I was looking for a reason to move to Canada though, so that’s my escape plan.”

[ericpriestly]

“Why Canada? I was thinking of somewhere in Europe. France has always fascinated me.”

[lpyrce-deactivated20170121]

“Hey, no complaining here. My place has been pretty amazing over the years. Maybe I can start a year long tab to off-set this one free coffee a day thing.”

[ericpriestly]

“I’d be happy to buy you an extra one, if the lack of it bothers you that much...”

[mr-robotdaily]

Qu'il faut vivre - R A M I  M A L E K

[morgan-drake]

“It’s not a conspiracy, it’s fact!” she laughed. “Exactly. American Idol’s more than just a crappy reality show where almost no one who wins it becomes rich and successful. It’s a predictor on how our everyday lives are becoming a reality show. The dude from Celebrity Apprentice is almost our president!”

[ericpriestly]

“Huh. That’s actually very worrying. If that does happen, I guess we’ll have to sever all connections with Commonfolk politics. Otherwise, we’d have to deal with a lot worse than just hunters.”

[marcus-ridley]

“He barely sits still, Eric, always on the prowl.”

Deathclaw was a nuisance sometimes, a little arrogant - he did enjoy staring at Marcus while he pushed things one by one off the table- but still always pining for love and attention. “I think we had it easy to be honest.” 

[ericpriestly]

“You’re right, it could have been a lot worse than us adopting a cat together. Speaking of which... Can I, uh, can I come visit Doomclaw?” I hope he misses me.

[morgan-drake]

“Um, whoa. The fact that America can’t even vote for a proper winner – Taylor Hicks, Kris Allen, frickin David Cook – makes you think how dangerous the popular vote in an actual presidential election really is. Those people who voted for Taylor Hicks? Probably Trump supporters. The ones who voted for Kris Allen? Homophobic conservatives. David Cook? Boring old white people. Dangerous.”

[ericpriestly]

“I never thought I’d befriend one of those internet conspiracy theorists, yet here I am.” He chuckled. “But you might be right. Give the wrong masses enough power and they’ll become dangerous.”

[lpyrce-deactivated20170121]

“Ah ha. That must of been in the memo that I didn’t get about what to expect this school year.” 

[ericpriestly]

“I wouldn’t complain much. They already give you a cheap apartment.”

[lpyrce-deactivated20170121]

“Does that mean there’s more coffee?” 

[ericpriestly]

“Erm, well, probably. But you’d have to pay extra. The school only gives staff one free coffee a day.”

[bats-orphan]

honesty hurts || eric & nora

Settling back into the dorm and unpacking created an intense discontent within her. It was that her tiny room felt like a desert. Giant and endless and empty. Especially when Olivia was out. Nora’s only constant friend were her plants. And the voices in her head. Over the summer, they stayed with her. It was not any better or worse. They were consistent. They were the most consistent thing in her life it seemed. Nora needed them gone. She wanted to return back to when she could really be alone. That’s how she ended up standing outside Professor Priestly’s classroom door, trying to gain the confidence to go inside.

She only had one class as his student but everyone knew what he could do. But making someone forget a person or an event is different than what she wanted. He may not be able to make her lose the voices in her mind. The only way to find out, though, was to go inside his lecture room and ask. Taking a large breath, Nora knocked on the door. Even if she wanted to, there was no going back now.

Opening the door slightly, She crept into the large room. “Excuse me?” Nora called out. Her voice echoed through the large hall, but that wasn’t the only voice she heard. Curses from the women inside her mind made Nora feel stronger. She could do this. Maybe it would even work and things could return to normal. Hearing footsteps emerge from his office connected to the room made Nora stand straight. She turned toward the sound and put on a soft smile. “Excuse me. I’m sorry for just barging in. Am I bothering you? I can come back later.” Nora spilled out the words. Saying far more than necessary as she often does when nervous.

[ericpriestly]

Most people knew Eric as ‘the jerk who can do illusions’, whereas a smaller portion of them knew him as ‘the jerk who can also mess up your mind’. Those were the things he overheard a few times around campus, not only from students but from other professors as well. It didn’t bother him much, though, as it meant people really did admire his skills even behind his back. If he needed to have a reputation, he would much rather be powerful and intimidating over nice and weak.

The sole problem about his reputation was that he didn’t have someone he could trust with his real self. There was Marcus, a man who knew Eric as a child, but not as an adult. There was Morgan, a woman who knew his caring side, but not his dark one. And there was Zoey, a girl who knew about his fears, but not about his regrets. None of them knew him whole, which saddened Eric, yet he wouldn’t admit it in a lifetime.

Therefore, he spent a major part of his free time at his office desk, buried in enormous, dusty books on magic so old and complicated, no one even cared about it anymore. That afternoon was no exception, the book of the day being a manifesto on hypnotic charms and how to use them on a daily basis. It contained pretty much everything a modern book on the matter would, except every charm had unnecessary remarks and steps in between. Eric enjoyed it nonetheless, knowing how witches and warlocks thought back in the day.

A sudden knock on the adjacent lecture room’s door startled him, finally distracting him from the pointless reading. He heard a voice call out, a polite ‘excuse me’ from someone in need. He sighed and stood up, following the presence inside the lecture room. As he walked in, Eric saw a young girl, a smiling student, seemingly nervous. “No, no, it’s fine. I wasn’t doing anything crucially important anyway...” He recognised her. “Do you, uh, need something, Nora?”

[morgan-drake]

“If the talent is having unorganized thoughts, you’re correct. Besides, I like to think our conversations are deep and philosophical.”

[ericpriestly]

“I don’t think your rants on who should have won American Idol can be considered ‘philosophical’, Drake.”

[ericpriestly]

garrett-follmer:

“I will,” Garrett said, determined to keep up the game. Inside he was hot fire, cold ice and shivering leaves all at ones. His thoughts were racing along a one track line — what am I doing, what am I doing, whatwhatwhat?

Garrett waited a beat, but the professor hadn’t moved and it made him nervous again. Calmly, but with obvious force, he started to move ahead, hoping to lose the man’s gaze. He had to change clothes or stop the dripping somehow, and he had to get this guy off his case. He stopped in line with the teacher. “I’ll clean it up, your assistance isn’t needed here,” he said coldly — as cold as he felt in his soaked clothes — and looked at Priestly with all the self-control he could muster.

The tension between them was excruciatingly uncomfortable. The student was only making things harder for him, and the lack of a logic reason behind it was driving Eric insane. The kid was hiding something and he had to get to the bottom of it. 

As the other began to walk away, Eric stood his ground. He listened to the student’s defensive plead, locking eye contact with a blank expression on his face. The student’s clothes weren’t as soaked as they had been a few minutes ago, thus there were no new puddles to clean up. “Surely, you will. What’s your name?” I’ll keep my eye on you.

[ericpriestly]

marcus-ridley:

“Well, I suppose I can just talk about the kitten since you’re more interested in him. He’s not quite as small as he used to be now. Still unfortunately answers to Doomclaw.”

“Yes, I hope you’re treating him well, Ridley. Don’t make him too fat.” He shrugged. “At least you didn’t call him, erm, Whiskerfluff or something like that. Those were a weird couple of days...”

[ericpriestly]

morgan-drake:

“Perhaps some would lie just to lie. They wouldn’t be much different from humans after all. Some might find entertainment in it. Self-awareness is a huge factor in making them a ‘pure AI’, but that decision would ultimately be a government thing. And since our current government – the Commonfolk one that is – can’t even make itself self-aware of its institutional racism and misogyny, I wouldn’t put it past them to prevent androids from knowing they’re androids. Which would be a bad idea, because if they end up becoming self-aware on their own, World War III is going to be machines and humans, not nuclear warfare.”

“Well, shit, Drake. We just went from sex robots straight to World War III. This happens every time I have a conversation with you. I think you have a talent.”