#grimoires:starter

[jack-hopkins]

WHERE: Brady’s Pub - local Salem bar WHEN:  May 2nd, around 12am WHO: open for all

Bars had never been a smart place for Joaquin Hopkins to pass the time  For starters - he was a bad drinker.  Avoiding the pitfalls of his fathers failures meant he did not drink often and knowing his personal limits had never been his forte.  In addition to that, the bars around town knew him for his fathers faults.  Liquor loosens lips and Jack found himself in an altercation not unliike others.  It would be his luck the man who thought it appropriate to shit on his father was the owners relative.  He was unceremoniously shoved out the bar, a slur called behind him with the addition to “sober up.”

“Fucking Christ,” Jack hissed, thumbing his now bleeding bottom lip.  His gaze turned to the person he’d past, eyes still hot with anger. “What are you looking at? You think I was in the wrong?”

[ren-ofpluto]

who: open to all  where:  outside Genevieve’s home  when: two days after the seance

Arriving in a foreign city with a directionless list of names doesn’t make Ren’s job easy.  She hadn’t trusted Genevieve before all the grimoire drama and she wasn’t keen to trust the magic banging scholar now. Unfortunately, the odds were stacked against her independence. Ren couldn’t ignore the truth, couldn’t ignore the article outing her witching-kin and she truly couldn’t ignore the panic in Gen’s call. If there were others with magic, of course they should be sticking together. They need me, Ren couldn’t help thinking. 

Going to the scholars home house was a hail mary, unsure how else she would find her kindred witches without becoming a creepy stalker. Sure enough, there’s a girl outside the home and she doesn’t seem to view Ren kindly.  Another short-sight on her part, she thinks. There’s nothing subtle about how she walks forward, approaching the house with her dog, Erzulie, in tow. She approaches coolly, acting as if her presence at Genevieve’s home in that moment makes full sense, trying to keep the sharpness of her features friendly. 

“Yo,” she lifted a hand to wave, “Don’t suppose the old bat is here is she...didn’t seem like she’d hang around when she called. Genevieve, I mean.” The waving hand dips to scratch behind her neck, not in insecurity but pure nonchalance. “Guessing if you’re standing outside her house, you’re one of the women I’m meant to speak with.” 

[annikamardov]

LOCATION: Dinner Party 

STATUS: Open to everyone

Annika felt surrounded by strangers, but the odd sense of companionship was alarming. She shouldn’t feel a connection to  any of these people, they weren’t family, they weren’t friends--for the most part. Annika had spent the majority of her life avoiding creating relationships unless she deemed it necessary. With her line of work, she was accustomed to talking to people she didn’t know. So, despite the unexpected turn of events in her life, she could make the best of the situation, or like the popular saying goes, fake it until you make it. All she needed to do was make if through this dinner party, get home, forget any of this was actually happening. 

She picked at the food placed in front of her. It felt like a cult gathering--is that what is was? Luckily, she had a glass of champagne to her right and picked the glass up, downing it in typical Annika style--chugging it down in one go. “You’d think if they’re going to invite us to this stupid thing the least they could do is give us some decent food.” She says passively, leaning back in the chair. “The fuck am I supposed to do with this?” She asks, holding up the parsley garnish on her plate.

[lucrezia-venus]

WHERE: outside Salem proper, late morning (UTP) WHEN: day or so after Genevieve’s party (UTP) WHO: CLOSED

Fucking Genevieve.  All spells and grimoires and social posts aside, the woman had to go meddling. It was infuriating having to watch her step as she was, tip toeing around the historian while being treated like a child.  Just because the woman held alleged information.  Lucrezia wouldn’t have it, not this nonsense of secret meetings and reprimands.  It was a stupid slip of the tongue that had her name in hot water.  If people were going to drag her name through the mud it would be on her own terms.  So Luce took her time, reaching out to the thirteen with sweet words, an open wallet and a subtle choice of location.  When she saw her intended approach she did her best to look awkward, shifting in her seat before offering a smile.

“Thank you for coming.  I know meeting with me has likely become less enticing since we all met at Genevieve’s.”  She was sure to use the woman’s proper name now, every shade of careful as she addressed her fellow witch. “I’ve a couple things to say, but first, I’m sure you have your fair share of questions.  Please, have at.  I don’t want any bad blood.”

[jupitersari]

Time & Location: The Dinner Party, early on in the evening Status: Open to all

   A frown slid over Ari’s features as she surveyed the options displayed on the buffet table in front of her, arms crossed delicately over her chest, and a small sigh escaping against her will. She’d been raised not to be fussy, and it’s not that free food wasn’t enjoyed, it was just... “I highly doubt much of this is vegan,” Ari commented to the figure that appeared beside her, eyes locked in dismay at the two different options of chicken, and the sad looking salad bowl, already half empty. “The salad has been drowned in cheese, and I counted at least three meat options. It’s not that I always complain, it’s just...” Now, she hesitated, and turned fully to confront the girl next to her. Food was far from Ariadne’s mind, anyway, but more of a distraction. “Well, you agree this is odd, right? This whole party thing? It can’t just be me.” 

[saturnmaia]

WHEN: just after the meeting at genevieve’s

WHERE: outside the house

WHO: open!

Maia felt like an idiot, she’d never kept a diary since she’d always been afraid that her parents would read it. Her tumblr had become an outlet for her, in the way that she’d desperately needed but she hadn’t thought that it would ever get read. It turned out it had and in the most awful way, she felt exposed but more than that she felt stupid. 

Her words were a weapon now, against them and for all she knew it meant that a bunch of witch hunters would track them down and murder them. She’d done it by writing because she simply couldn’t stop being scared of everything.

At the first opportunity, Maia had fled the house - paper that Genevieve had given her tucked away in her backpack. She didn’t like shouting, it had been one of the factors that had led her to crack so easily, that and she couldn’t stand anyone else being blamed for her mistake.

She’d needed the air more than anything else and had sat down, back against the tree. Maia didn’t want to cry so much, it was pathetic wasn’t it? Here she was, crying all the same because she was stupid and she never learned.

At the sound of an approach, Maia looked up, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand. “If you’ve come to shout at me,” Maia said, voice cracking a little. “I understand why,”

[thclilith]

WHERE: genevieve’s house WHEN: monday STATUS: open to any witches

maeve isn’t a woman to apologize for her curiosity. there are few things outside of her own realm that is of interest to her. to find these things, maeve isn’t shy. she puts herself in movement and finds her answers with little care for consequences. she supposes there’s little consequence to anything right now, as she goes through genevieve’s belongings on the house the woman left behind. her hands pick up memorabilia and eyes scan books upon books on salem and witchcraft in hopes to find something useful. 

when steps make the presence of another person – or should she say, witch – known, maeve doesn’t flinch. her eyes lift from the book she holds in her hands and looks at her company with a careless glint on her eye. “ so this is the hag’s place, huh? ” she asks, raising her eyebrows. “ i must say – if i lived here, i’d want to run away, too. do you think she ever bothered to dust? ”

[belenvillas]

WHERE: main street WHEN: second day of the celebration STATUS: open to any witches

“alright, i do not promise you that this will taste good, or anything like that — and you know what? i take full responsibility if it doesn’t...they asked me if i wanted to try their ever so secret witches brew and i wanted to be festive,” she says with a shrug of her shoulders and a soft laugh. the two disposable cups in her hands have smoke spilling over the rims ( due to some dry ice, she assumes ). “if i’m not wrong there’s ‘eyeballs’ in there...so peeled grapes probably, and,” belén raises one of the glasses to her nose, “i’m not sure if there’s any alcohol in here, but again, i didn’t ask.” 

her eyes roam around the immediate area before falling on her companion once more, “this is pretty neat, isn’t it? i mean, it’s like the museum and party city had a baby but there’s nothing wrong with that.” second day into the celebration and she was feeling a little better about everything — that being said she was still very much aware of the irony and timing. sure it was easy to blend in because there were, in fact, no warts or pointy noses that could identity them, it’s just that she would prefer to be careful. “i think there’s a stand somewhere over there with charms or something like that.”