#c: closed

[wrxn-blxkely]

      The night was clear and cool, no downcast of clouds as the arena was illuminated by torch light. Some of the clearing had been bathed in silver by the moon but it was faint as Wren stood there in the middle. Most nights there were few people here among the grounds, which the demigod took advantage of by practicing spells that were a bit difficult to do inside Mageia. Beneath the stars Wren stood without armor or blade at his side but instead palms facing upwards as a prismatic light trickled beneath his skin.                                  It was time to practice something new. 

    “Vast sea of stars, watery rite, I summon you here earth-side.” he started as flecks of light, small orbs, slowly flowed around him, “Travel close and envelop me in your waves---Cetus, Eridanus, Pisces---flow beside me, our guardians of the astral waters.” As he concentrated more light appeared. It swirled around him like a whirlpool, along with the orbs shifting as they painted the constellations he called upon.        Now the real test was for how long he could hold it. 

[inconsolcble]

still here | remus & sirius

Location: muggle London, Sirius' place Date: February 20th, 1982, late @starbrightblack​

Remus didn't have the heart to search for Marlene just yet. He was taking a page from his father's book and refraining from asking any questions he didn't want the answers to. He knew she'd have a problem with him staying in the estate now, and quite frankly, that was another point that made him stay at Lyall's for longer than intended. He didn't have anywhere else to sleep. He disappeared for a few days, he wasn't going to waltz back into the estate and claim back his room like nothing had happened -- that would take emotional energy that he simply did not have yet.

So he did the only thing he could think of doing and he invited himself to one of the only places he could feel home. The letter he sent to Sirius was rushed, his bad calligraphy a testament to how anxious he felt. It'd been something simple, something between "I can't go back to McKinnon's yet" and "I just need a couch for one night".

Muggle London felt weirdly comforting this evening. The hallway leading to Sirius' flat was familiar, even if he hadn't been there in so long. He rapped his knuckles against the door and tried not to shuffle on his feet too much as he waited for it to open. "Hi," he offered, when it finally did. Maybe on another night he'd crack a joke, make fun of himself for couch surfing, take a playful jab at Sirius' apartment. Tonight, he could only look at his friend, and refrain from reaching for a hug, knowing such contact might tip him off the emotional edge he was precariously balanced on. "How are you... holding up?"

[bxsh-wxck]

Checking in; JUDE

   It’s been enough time, hours bleeding into days, since Bastion had reached out to Jude. In the underworld they had a moment, a bit embarrassing on Bastion’s part but it was enough for the smith-son to think they could become friends. Emotional & unsure before the Cerberus battle it was nice to vent to someone, specifically a demigod that was unbiased and fresh faced. Out of the “new batch” of demigods, Jude was the only one he really vibed with which wasn’t saying much but if you knew Bastion it was something. 

    Talking the initiative he got permission to walking through the Pali household, hands carrying a wineskin mixed with ambrosia in hopes they could have a few drinks and pick up where they left off. Having taken the third or forth hallway in this maze of a home, Bastion popped around a corner where he found Jude lounging on the couch. At first he didn’t want to interrupt, second guessing showing up here, but he ignored his nerves placing a heavy knock against the doorway---

    “Hey, keen on having guest?” waving his wineskin as an offering as he waited for the other’s answer. 

[callie-s-callaway]

Callisto não costumava mentir para si mesma, ela sempre admitia suas próprias vontades por mais absurdas que fossem, afinal, era confiante àquele ponto. Caminhando para os aposentos dos guardas, no entanto, dizia a si mesma que apenas estava entediada (o que sim, era verdade) e que não exatamente apreciava a presença do outro (o que não, não era verdade) mas que se precisava de alguém para acompanhá-la então que fosse o muito bem treinado general. Era somente isso! Juntar o útil ao agradável: um homem gostoso que a pudesse manter em segurança. Absolutamente nada a ver com o fato dos momentos mais interessantes de seus dias naquela corte até então serem junto dele. Era final da tarde, e a jovem Ible enfim parou na frente do quarto de Deville após passar por um considerável número de soldados que reclamaram em murmúrios pela invasão de privacidade, já que a moça invadia o alojamento deles repentinamente, alguns até mesmo estavam cobertos somente por toalhas de banho ao redor da cintura, inclusive o soldado Yang, para quem Callaway cumprimentou com uma piscada. Quando a porta abriu, Callisto arrumou a postura. Ela realmente iria convida-lo, e não ameaçar ou forçar. Era estranho e sentia uma leve ansiedade da qual não apreciava. Fez uma nota mental de não repetir tal comportamento, provavelmente seria mais fácil se tivesse feito como da última vez e lhe dado a ordem por meio de seu trabalho. — Oi. — Cumprimentou @dvville , a voz inicialmente menos forte do que geralmente, mas vê-lo pareceu lhe devolver alguma confiança. Talvez pela maneira que o homem a havia encarado já esperando o pior, e aquela resposta natural era no mínimo divertida para si, como se reforçasse que era a mais nova que permanecia no controle da situação como um todo — Bom, você disse na última vez que se eu te chamasse para me acompanhar, você aceitaria. Então...quero ir para cidade. Será que você pode garantir que eu não seja morta por lá?

[struckbylightningflash]

“Wallace West, in the flesh, I am honored.” Barry smirked. “It’s been too long, man. Far too quiet in the lab. Does Joe know you’re back?” 

mentioned: @goodkidwally

[george-chatwin-blog]

The first time George had seen Amber on campus, he’d dove behind the F-K stacks to avoid her noticing him there in the library. The resulting move had drove his elbow against the shelving and gave him a significant bruise. He remembered the woman from several parties in New York. Collegiate level students tended the same bars, and hangouts where food was cheap and alcohol easily attained. Seeing her in Hollow Grove had to be some karmic level bullshit where the universe was laughing her ass off at him. He remembered their talk, remembered having much too much fun steering her away from safe havens and the supernatural in general. 

Despite a couple close calls, he’d been able to steer from her notice on campus, but this party was a different story. He’d come up to the bar to grab a drink from the bartender and there she was just beside him. He caught her gaze and immediately felt his stomach drop through the floor. “Um, hi.” @amberhorne

[dxne-duclos]

Closed-flashback; A Wolf’s Bite

    The night reeked of  d r e a d; the suffocating, skin feeling taunt underneath the weight of it all kind-of dread. Dane assumed it was the magic in the air, swirling energies of anticipation threading itself between the emotions of everyone. Anxiety, fear, loss, anger---it was the fuel of this night, and the Aries witch wanted every inch of it to burn underneath his finger tips. Dane was marked as a warrior, some defender of the night but for himself, he laughed at the notion. He wasn’t a warrior, more like a warlord or berserker where bloodlust was his ambition. Beside Wren, he looked menacing and dark. His magic was being drawn from his gut, singeing his heart more and more he used it. So the fact that he and her were tasked with killing this animal being; a rogue spirit.                     Welll.....Dane found delight in such actions.

    Standing in a field, tree lines towering above them, barely letting the moonlight trickle through Dane stood between the wolf and Wren, the other witch standing a few feet behind him. Luca and Rory, not far away, containing the monster. His eyes shifted between the two witches, wondering how their magic would work. Ever thirsty for a new spell, a way to improve his technique he kept watching as the two chanted. That suppressing feel that loomed over them shifted, almost like the two were gathering it all to locked down Wolfric. An impressive grin lifted on his lips, while he turned back, eyeing his partner---almost like an impish look asking silently ‘are you ready?’. It was time, game day, and whatever other cliche phrases Dane could muster up in the moments as the spell began to sync up. His hand gripped the gifted athame in his hand, his stance shifting to one of preparation and strength. 

         Could he do this?           Do I want to do this?              I must do this!

    His mind went through levels of preparation, only truly realizing the danger of it all the moment the wolf’s voice broke through the forest. A guttural howl rippled around them, it eoched harshly; bouncing through the trees until it dissipated into the void. Dane watched as the creature struggled underneath the binding ritual that his coven members were constraining him under. It’s eyes, the wolf’s eyes were something he’d never forget. They were bright underneath the glow of the moon, but unlike other animals it held a human quality to them. Something deeper in reasoning as if one stare could read---I WILL KILL YOU. 

         Dane looked back at Wren, “Get ready we only got one shot.”, practically demanding her to strike. The actions between them both left very militaristic, like this was war. However the casualties of it all wasn’t something Dane expected, as when Wren casted, everything went haywire. The banshee level scream, boomed past the Aries and collided into the wolf; yet the parameters of such a spell had a spill out neither of them could have foreseen. The waves of sound that impacted Wolfric, resonated outwardly causing Rory and Luca to feel the effects. The sheer pitch could cause anyone to kilter, yet Luca broke to his knees as his left ear drum was shot, as blood was visibly pouring out from it. Along with Rory suffering other effects, the spells was broken by one voice, which released the menacing monster from it’s chains. 

          “Shit!” he exclaimed but his reaction was cut short, as without missing a beat the beast lunged towards them both. Speed and dexterity was written into the muscles of the wolf, along with a supernatural twist, it felt almost impossible to stop. Dane lifting his hand, focused his mind against the paws of his enemy trying to force them to halt; a telekinetic pulse shot from him. The weight of his magic halted Wolfric, just feet in front him, while it’s head cocked up at Dane. His teeth, perfectly aligned rows of fangs, snarled at him while the rest of it’s body was being held down by Dane. It was brief, the witch knew he had to act quickly, knowing his strength wasn’t with mental magic. Lifting the athame up, Dane went to strike his body moving in closer when in seconds all he could feel was pain. 

     The seconds were broken, split-hare reactions won in favor of Wolfric as the wolf's paws clawed against his chest, while it’s face was buried into Dane’s right shoulder; it’s teeth sinking it. “FUUUUUUCK” he exclaimed,his body being pinned down. Every movement tore deeper into him, his struggling lending more depth for Wolfric to bit down on. In his left hand Dane held the athame still, his grip trembling from the pain and blood loss, his eyes glancing over at it. He knew he need to push through, to live, but the signals his brain was forcing to read wasn’t translating well. “Stab it. Stab damn-it” he kept saying, yet agony had a way falsifying your wants and needs---so it took one more lunge to sink the blade into the opening that was back of the wolfs’ neck. 

                “Bite on this fucker.” he exclaimed, pouring his magic into the blade---as if the a direct beacon to the beast's core. His icy magic seeped into the bloodstream of Wolfric; each bitter and vengeful thought Dane could muster forcing his magic to drop lower and lower in temperature. At first the edges of the wolf’s fur started to be frosted with ice, his black and grey pigments being lost underneath the sheer white that took over. “Die!” he screamed, his intent...his blood...his pain, carving fridgedly as he each stab, one after the other, started to implant chucks of his magic into Wolfric. Each action would grow, splintering his blood into frozen streams that bitterly engulfed his whole system. From the inside out, the wolf’s body would slow become an glacial warzone for Dane to mess with. The rawness of the cold, caused Wolfric to pounced off of him; recoiling in pain as it’s skin grew so rigid you could hear shards of ice crackling across him. It took time, but Dane kept his focus as long as he could on the beast. His vision tunneling, until he blacked out---yet it was done. The beast was slain, forced into submission as nothing was left of him other than a frostbitten, worn out shell of a wolf. The grass around it withered brown, then grew it’s own sheet of ice around him. 

[itsxwilliam-blog]

William happily took the moment he turned away from someone connected to the Royal family - how exactly he had forgotten - to relax the smile he had plastered on his face since the beginning of the evening. They were easily closing on the two hours since the event had started, an annual Christmas Party thrown by the Ainsley family to please the public obsessed with the royal family. The smile that returned to his face when he saw his best friend however, was natural and relieved. He cleared his throat as he came up behind the other, gently touching his back, “You have no idea how happy I am to see you,” he groaned quietly, his smile growing slightly as he waved at a camera that passed by him, “Wanna go get plastered?”