#ensorcellerie

[theeternalsun]

starter call ( selectively accepting ) , @ensorcellerie

   “Are you alright, child?” the priestess seems almost to pop from nowhere, but this was indeed her home and she knew every nook and cranny of it. Dark eyes stare at the other for a few moments, scarred hands moving behind her back as she straightens her shoulders “You seem... frightened.”

[ecclesiastry-blog]

@ENSORCELLERIE --

    Papers had begun to pile up as of late. Never before had she required glasses to read the forums placed there but…It seems the blood was progressing faster than she’d expected. A hand pushed at the honey locks of hair hanging in her lenses. She’d been informed of a new candidate for the Choir. Her ties to it had begun to loosen. The few members that remained felt their goals had strayed from Amelia’s. PREPOSTEROUS. Certain machinations need not be shared with others. Such as the accomplished connection with a certain Great One. She was no fool, she knew of certain deals that had already taken place. Yet to resummon such a creature was proving far more difficult.

    Yet as of now, as far as the city need know, the Choir had split. Amelia’s hand that remained within their ranks was to be of a hushed nature. Still one soul had discovered this it seemed; as the inquiry of becoming part of the Choir had been brought to her ear. She’d sent a messenger to the individual. Come to the Healing Church: meet with its Vicar and prove your worth of such a station.

    Amelia looked from beneath her glasses at the shadow that had entered her room. A person so it seemed. Perhaps the one who she’d summoned. Setting the pen down, Amelia leaned back in her chair stiffly. " What of the Choir do you know and why do you wish to become affilited with it? You are not from Yharnam I presume. "

[nelrunari]

hello mods it is kb again! this time i am speaking on behalf of vani who is at work and doesn't want to miss inbox. he'd like to drop verdinand archambeau (idreis, tenor hall room 2) and the merino berceuse (ilene, seiche hall room 3). thank you so much guys...!!

since we can confirm this is vanitas’ intention, i’ll go ahead and process these! they will be missed terribly, but verdinand and merry will be dropped!

❖ memento

[nelrunari]

henlo mods! it is me KB, having found an old tumblr account somewhere, here to drop keras because i didn't have as much muse for her as i thought ; m; her warden is micah, and she's in room 1 of selenian hall! thank you for all your hard work i love u

we totally understand! she’ll be missed, but i’ve gone ahead and taken care of that for you

❖ memento

[dalathin-archived-blog]

@ensorcellerie liked for a starter // Forgive the delay! I’m going to go with ‘vague rumors of blood magic.’ Hope this is alright, but let me know if you’d like to change anything!

❝Parley? Do you have a moment?❞

Séaghdha did not wait for permission but entered the small room with a hesitance like it was almost against his will. And it was, to a point - he was there for a reason, and one that far from pleased him. Not doing as he was asked, however, would result in far more trouble for everyone involved. So, moving to a respectful but conversation distance, he nodded his head in greeting.

❝I need to-- wanted to--❞ He sighed, shoulders slumping in defeat. He hated these sorts of conversations. ❝Forgive me. The truth is, I was asked to talk to you. About some, um... magic related things.❞

[axeworne]

@ensorcellerie

       “I knew a boy who wanted to study here.” Her coat and hat, sopping with lake water, lay on the railing to dry, and she rung her hair out lock by lock as she gazed out from Willem’s perch. “I’m sure he would have liked it. Did you.”

[incubabe]

!! (parley winking in the distance)

@ensorcellerie sent ‘!!’ and I’ll write a para description of your muse from mine’s perspective, including:

Their looks ; Their personality ; And who they are to my muse + Etc!

   Parlaveritrix the Cunning, conjurer and magus. Better known, by those of us who live in the 21st century, as Parley. Almost as cute as Parsley, as far as names go, but we can’t have everything, and she’s got the whole ethereal waif thing down pat. My sofa isn’t that big, but you could easily fit another three without skin-to-skin contact. Calling her a rail might be a slight to the legion of purpose-serving rails I’ve used throughout my life. 

   As her gaze turns from me to the retreating back of our unexpected visitor – oh infernal Sitri, Prince Deceit and local deadbeat sire –  it’d be harder not to think of the time I pulled a summoning ritual to call some sort of Tartarian (or whatever those of the Dead City prefer to call themselves) torturer from Below out of her hands, half-spoken. It’s not just that I’m not too big on the extended family, more that Parley puts knowledge before self preservation.

   We all gotta have something, right? Something to look forward to so we don’t just crawl under the desk and wait for the end to come. I don’t begrudge her that. The pursuit of knowledge is an admirable goal. It’s more that she thinks going to Notwarts has made her an expert on everything from A to Z. I don’t wanna know where the inflection point is for her – where she says, no, thanks, that’s too much for me. 

   Well. No need to think in what ifs – the angry brand on her neck’s a sign of that. Can’t read it (or at least, I can’t comprehend it further than ‘it’s a language’) , but it hurts to look at. 

   So why keep her around? It’s nice, I guess, to have someone who understands and doesn’t judge. Don’t always need to say ‘no, I can’t hang out tonight, I will be in some stranger’s bed teasing their soul out between their legs.’ If she can look past the whole abomination before God, soul sucker thing, I can look past that know-it-all shitty attitude. 

   I scratch my belly, taking a glance over my shoulder to make sure Sitri’s portal closed. “Y’wanna go to that craft fair in twenty? I think they’re gonna have that food truck you like.”

[incubabe]

@ensorcellerie [x]

   “do what?”

   her voice is all innocent like she can’t see herself tracing infernal sigils in the air with her wand. abyssal runes outlined in fire, hanging in front of her. “it’s just practising. i don’t think they mean anything.” but she’s copying them from a little diagram in a red leather-bound book she can’t actually read, so really, what does she know about how safe they are?

  “It’s Enochian. Are you telling me you’re writing this down and you don’t know what it says?” Her expression had been relatively relaxed and genial (Parley wasn’t too bad to look at, after all) until she’d had the forethought to actually look at the words scratched into the air. Riley’d never much believed in the power of genetics, but there was no denying it: that brain of hers knew Angelic as sure as it did English. How was she so sure? Reading it hurt. “Like, if you wanna just put your head on the chopping block, fine, but let me get way away before you finish whistling up a torturer from Hell.”