r e s t i n g

BOWING to your t h r o n e I wanna SEE what you see in the COMFORT of your (SKULL) I'm R I S I N G { and } I'm F A L L I N G and I'm l o s i n g all CONTROL

[vntediluvian]

beckettcipriano.

@vntediluvian

He could admit that one of the scariest moments of his life was watching his sister collapse. One second - one second she had been fine. Babbling, with caramel all over her mouth, telling him that maybe apples weren’t all that bad when they were covered in sugar. He had rolled his eyes, and tugged on one of her pigtails, and the next moment she had fainted. He had panicked, and he wasn’t afraid to admit that. Felicity was the one thing that he really had in his life that meant more to him than anything else, and he couldn’t lose her. When he had found out about Tiberius, he knew that it was what had caused Felicity’s sickness. She was still weak, and sickly, and they had decided to let her go home. There really was nothing they could do for her, and after repeated begging from her to go see Tiberius, he had caved. He carried her, letting her cling to him like a koala bear as he made his way into the familiar house. “Hey, you have a visitor. She wouldn’t accept no.” 

“It might not be wise,” Tiberius said, his voice coming out like a whisper, like gravel running down the concrete sidewalk. He was extremely weak, the wound obscured by the blanket that was wrapped around him. Before the fireplace, he was staring into the flames. The flames dancing on his skin reflected brightly from the sweat, and there was a plant that was on the end table next to him. It was wilting. His fingers moved to soothe over the petals, as some would care for an animal, he cared for plants. “I fear I don’t look exactly... presentable. So be warned.” He gestured to the couch that was across from him, a blanket draped over the back. His normally sapphire eyes were a milky-grey and he looked to Felicity. “Miss Felicity you do look a great deal better than I do.” He had been studying on charms to link her life force to something or someone else. It was too dangerous to be linked to him.

[vntediluvian]

( @missxsinclair )

Werewolf venom was a tricky thing, none so much as the originals. Sweat slicked his hands and body and he shook and writhed in pain. The wound had turned a deathly black color. Tiberius eyed it, his fingers trembling as he touched the flesh. He couldn’t summon up enough strength to cast even a healing rune. In his home, surrounded by his plants and books, he looked to Vivian. “This is certainly an interesting development. I guess we will find out if the bites of the originals can kill us,” Tiberius laughed. His skill was pallor, his lips a dull purple as his body and magic fought the unknown agent. “You’ll need to make sure that both Mr. Kim and Mr. Cipriano are taken care of in absence. It’s likely Felicity... is feeling the same as I am. If I go, I know she goes. They’ll be looking for Salem’s head for the fire. Protect him.”

[vntediluvian]

decvma.

What exactly it was about New Orleans that had attracted Jo, she was still unsure, but that was where the joy hid —- in its mystery. Its streets, with their bright lights that peeked through the shops & restaurants’ and solemn hovering balconies, filled with with an hypnotizing warmth and vibrance, similar to that you would find at the bottom of an empty shot glass.  The young woman’s ears caught the ghost of a laughter ( a man’s, perhaps a couple streets away ) as her eyes took their time to scan every of the path’s dark corners. The little girl inside her warned her of the potential spirits she might encounter, but the woman currently walking discarded all foolish thoughts. She’d met monsters in the past, and knew very well they resided in places other than shadows. 

    A chuckle left her, smooth lips curling upwards at the edges as she shook her head. How silly of her. The bustling streets were far behind her, as she was able to distinguish from the shift in the atmosphere. Her pace remained steady, determined. Sometime after this, she must’ve become too unaware of her surroundings. Similarly, her mind may’ve slipped and made her believe there were no obstacles in her path. How silly of her. 

    The ‘thud’ the bones of the two produced as they collided against each other was somewhat faint, and it in fact was not that tough of a “blow”. Nonetheless, it’d been slightly irritating. “ Woah, calm down, ” her hand rubbed against the affected area, as if touch were to get rid of that tingly sensation. “ Weren’t you watching were you were going ? ” Jo asked, brows furrowed. In reality, it wasn’t entirely his fault. “ Why the rush ? ”

The collision of shoulder triggered a flash of his powers, and he frowned. It took a good amount of ambient energy to do that these days, and for a single second he saw a glimpse of one of their memories and he frowned. He was not particularly in the mood to deal with the child that caused so much disruption for his kind, the humankind as well. Consequences reverberated through the ripples of time and changed things that should have never been changed, and now -- now there was a murder and something that had never been seen before was brewing. Who created it? The anger he had not felt in many years rattled in his ribcage, the powers at his disposal flickered at his fingertips, begging to be released. Instead, he seemed to swell in height, glaring down at her. 

The same man who had created beasts and slayed his own kind. The same that cursed others to realms where they should have never been drug back from. “Weren’t you?” His tone echoed with something that reminded most of the grim reaper. Petulant child. Another had asked that they should teach them. He doubted they were up for the lesson. Raised and sharped with selfishness, he doubted they understood what sacrifice meant. Steel eyes bore down on her, “I suppose not.”

[vntediluvian]

Over the years, his mellow persona had a way of dipping away. He was here for a purpose. It was only ever business. While he was not necessarily something of a cop, they had welcome his expertise in. Vested interested -- they had never seen anything like this and Tiberius had seen plenty of things the world had never seen. The vampires and werewolves worked together in something of harmony. On the other side of that liminal space, that was not the case. They slaughtered each other out there. Every species for themselves. He left the police station feeling like a reaper. He needed to travel to the other side. There was another Gatekeeper that would have some answers, able to speak to those who others could not. He was considering on who to call when his shoulder clipped someone else. “My apologies.”

[vntediluvian]

( @rowenadryer )

Moments like this made him miss a particular time. He missed walking through fields and feeling the wheat brush his hands. In his particular line, life was something that was celebrated, and perhaps that was why he loved plants so much. It seemed to be the only life he could curate successfully. Humans were messy, but plants, they were superior in survival, if he was honest. Perhaps his favorite was fungi. Neither really plant nor animal, the organism was entirely its own and entirely remarkable. It came in so many different forms and features, it was an amazing thing, much too uncelebrated. Without the fungus there would be no modern medicine. 

His fingers touched the cap, and then clipped it away. He would use this to grow them in his own greenery. His off time was spent reading and tending to plants. The truth was that he was here for one reason: to watch as it came undone. Whatever this was, this deep evil that was brewing here, it would be revealed all in time, and that was something he was certain of. He felt the presence of another, the power pooling around his fingers, and he glanced. A face he knew well, and he stood, using and handkerchief to protect the mushroom. Fingers remained dirty. “I suspected you might be here.”

[vntediluvian]

beckettcipriano.

“Yeah, I’m just - I’m late picking Felicity up, and she always hates it when I’m late.” He mumbled, fiddling with the edge of the ripped bag. He owed his happiness to the man standing next to him, and he barely understood how it was possible; he was careful not to question. He didn’t care what it was, as long as Felicity was still with him. “These damn apples cost almost a fortune, so I’m hoping that they’re not too bruised up.” He squinted into the bag, still awkward, still uncomfortable, still avoiding eye contact.

Tiberius was rather open when it came to questions from people he had taken a liking too. Yes, there was danger out there, but it was nothing that Tiberius was completely capable of handling. There was a greater fear he held than death. This man reminded him of old times. When young men were forced to grow up because the times around them. In a lot of ways, Beckett was much more of a man than some that were in their late twenties -- truly a case to the meaning that age doesn’t matter, maturity does. “What do apples go for these days?” He picked one up and examined it. “They used to be a thing for the nobles. Great orchards. Dried they’d cost about four-pennies. Rather expensive. Could get eight chickens instead of a pound.” That was one of the things he had lost in the times. Ability to really care or understand money. He usually overpaid for things, but that wasn’t something that bothered him. “I have most afternoons off. Call me next time you’re running late. I can get her.”

[vntediluvian]

chaitali-kalabhra.

Dark eyes watched and a darker mind wondered. In all of his years had any single one of them been spent questioning his purpose - had any of them been spent feeling as if he was cast adrift in an endless ocean with weights attached to your feet kicking for dear life but never fully giving up the fight to keep from drowning? Did he feel like she felt? Did he feel much of anything she wondered but it was not her place to ask him that nor did she want to peel back that curtain to see what lurked there in the dark recesses of his mind when she knew well the terrible darkness of her own? She almost thought to ask and then his comment reminded her of the differences between the two of them. Even though it might not have been meant to be a slight it could’ve been perceived in that way. She in recent years didn’t care for talk of god or gods and she viewed the world through her dark eyes in jaded hues of another color not completely one or another. Also it did hurt just a little to think that the only reason he sought her out was to talk business. So she kept quiet for another moment before giving him a small smile, fingertip tracing the edge of her tea cup a small dry chuckle leaving her. “Old age please, you don’t look a day over sixty five – gumbo. They make the best here and you would be remiss not to try it at least once. Let us talk business”

Her eyes reminded him of soil -- rich, full of nutrient, full of potential life and growth. However, she held onto the idea that they were not meant to live this long, and perhaps he agreed to some extent. He certainly felt that. He certainly felt like the world was spiraling out of their control. However, he had faith. He remembered where he came from and what he was supposed to be doing on this earth. Tiberius allowed things to still hurt him, he allowed himself to fully feel even after all these years. He was never the kind to be stone cold inside. “It’s the silver streak -- which I have actually had since I was eighteen.” He chuckled, and cast the menu aside. He took her advice and ordered what she recommended.

“I would be lying if I had not thought of taking this space, with everyone in it, save our kind, and casting it into oblivion. The reason I haven’t is because I don’t think it would change a damn thing. Their ability to manipulation time and space seems to be counter productive to my past ways.” He had something of a track record of casting creatures into different realms. “Their existence threatens everything. Yet -- I don’t think that they see that. I need a new way to solve this problem, and I was hoping that I wouldn’t have to destroy them. Assuming I even can.”

[vntediluvian]

tessaclarke.

She bit back the curse that so desperately wanted to fall from her tongue. Maybe she wasn’t being rational - she had no right to claim to her photography, clearly. What she had seen as hers wasn’t. What she had known to be her solace could be taken from her as easily as time robbed her of every companion that she had ever had. She had nothing in this world, except for herself, and so many unending years of battling one thing, if not another. Now - now they had come for the one thing that shielded her. “How do we find them? Whoever it was. However they did it.” 

Tiberius sighed. That was an excellent question. “There could be a hundred hypothesizes on how this came to be. How it was done. They’d have to investigate each one. But the truth is -- more will be revealed in time.” He had his own ideas on how this came to be. He had his own fears -- perhaps these were the next gift from God and they were to be wiped clean from the earth in place for whatever this was. The world was evolving -- as was everything around them. He felt antiquated. He felt like the knowledge he had was dated, and thus he had lived too long to hold his position.

[vntediluvian]

WHAT KIND OF PLACE IS IT?: A small stone cottage on the just inside the liminal space.

HOW LONG DID IT TAKE THEM TO ACQUIRE IT?: A few days.

HOW LONG HAVE THEY LIVED THERE?: A few days, he just arrived. 

DO THEY CONSIDER IT ‘HOME’?: Not really, it’s just a place he enjoys.

NUMBER OF BEDROOMS?: 2

NUMBER OF BATHROOMS?: 2.5

ANY NOTABLE ITEMS INSIDE?: He has extremely old grimoires and spellbooks. Most were written before even latin was a thing. Weapons and charms and potions are tucked away in hidden places, there is a loose floorboard that he keeps some of the more valuable items. 

ANY QUIRKY TRAITS?: The attic is actually half a glass roof -- he’s turned the attic into a greenhouse, with various plants and herbs living in pots. He tends to them like pets, and actually possesses quite the greenthumb.

NUMBER OF SQUARE FOOTAGE?: 832sqft

NUMBER OF ACRES?: 3.48 -- he doesn’t mow the lawn or trim the trees so the walk from the drive to the cottage is something of an adventure

WHAT SORT OF AMENITIES DOES IT HAVE?: Hardwood floors, an old antique oak door, stained glass windows.

WHAT IS THE RENT/MORTGAGE?: $300

DO THEY LIVE WITH ANYONE ELSE?: No.

DOES IT HAVE ANY HISTORY OR RUMORS SURROUNDING IT?: That it was once a whorehouse and the lady of the house was actually a very powerful witch. He thinks that’s funny -- despite the fact that he can feel the spellpower in the walls.

ANIMAL FRIENDLY? IF SO, DO THEY HAVE ANIMALS?: It is, but he doesn’t have any animals -- though he has begun to befriend a lost raven.

WHAT TEMPERATURE IS IT INSIDE?: Whatever it is outside. In the winter it is 75F.

[vntediluvian]

tessaclarke.

“I guess so. I’ve never met anyone with them, but I guess it could be possible.” She scratched at the back of her head in frustration, before she pressed her fingers to her temples. She had always known witches to be in control of elements, and minds, and aethers - she had never known a witch to be in charge of technology. It seeped into an area that needed to be left untouched, and she felt an urge to leave the liminal space. She couldn’t stomach the thought of someone ruining the one thing that was still sacred to her, throughout all years of life, photography had been hers. “I don’t like it. This is - this is mine. My camera, my photographs, my technology.”

Dear child, nothing is ever ours. He wanted to tell her that, but he didn’t. Instead, his eyes drank her in, studied her for the first time in a long time. She possessed her own amount of years, yet he still felt like she was far too young to the world. “If there is anything that I have learned, it is that we possess nothing but our knowledge.” His finger left the screen and he looked away. “These charms are rather invasive. Would take someone skilled with both charms and carrying something technological in nature... specialty wise. I am not surprised that this has followed us here. Or manifested. Whichever it may be.”

[vntediluvian]

beckettcipriano.

He was running late. He always was - his clocks were permanently off, and he had never been able to figure out how to get them on track. He was fighting to get all of his bags out of the grocery store and into the back of his car when one of the bags split, sending a bushel of apples cascading across the pavement. “Oh, fuck me.”

With a quick hand, Tiberius snapped the apples up. Gathering them, he placed them in the brown bag next to the young man. “You need to slow down a bit.” The thing with his powers was that he could feel their life teetered to his own. The reason why he didn’t tap much into it was due to the fact it reminded him of a leech, sucking part of life force away. But the young man before him had been bent over the body, sobbing, and Tiberius could not help himself. It moved him, and thus, their bond began. 

[vntediluvian]

chaitali-kalabhra.

Chaitali refrained from using her gifts on others of her kind - the immortal witches that was. Other witches yes but hardly for malevolent purposes despite there being cases she has had to use them for such an extent. When you were as old as these two were you did not trust easily and it was how you kept alive. You were still human after all if their kind was ever human truly to begin with those who were pure-blooded witch. Still she never used her gifts on another immortal witch she had seen enough through her own eyes and her own touch and heard enough normally without reaching out to their inner most thoughts to know their own unique story as if it was her own. Even if she did and she were to be the kind who would peek into the mind of an immortal older than herself Chaitali had no desire to know the cross Tiberius bore; she knew enough to know even at her age it would be unwise to go digging where she was not invited. She did not want to see the faces he had loved nor yet the things created only to be destroyed in the name of whatever he believed. Chaitali did not want to be reminded of her own family through images of his and however many families he had had. The sudden appearance of the man did not cause her surprise nor did it phase her. In a mere matter of moments she glanced up and across the booth at the man, her own tea continuing to stir itself without a spoon swirling in her cup. “Tea? It has been a moment it certainly has for I don’t remember you ever having a desire to drink it last we saw of each other.”

Stopping her stirring she reached for the glass now and lifted the cup up to her lips taking a drink of it, letting it warm bones that by any other means would’ve been cremated over a millennia ago scattered upon the wind. Setting the glass back down she offered a smile to him with the lift of a brow wondering just exactly why he’d chosen to sit at her booth despite having a general idea of what might be the reason as to why.  “Will you eat with me or is this not a social visit?”

In her close contact, he could feel her powers shimmering under her skin. His own powers had made him a force to be reckoned with. The ability to draw other’s powers and use them against themselves, if need be, to reach into their minds see their memories, draw on their fears. He could raise the dead, he could shift his own appearance to anyone or anything. These were powers that he had long since stopped using for evil, but instead of times of need. Lately, there had not been a high need to use them, so he didn’t. He feared nothing, and the only cares he had were in protecting the world and the few people he had adopted as something of a ragtag grandfather. A mentor to some, a boss to others. He was something that was to be reckoned with, and his reputation almost always proceeded him. People remembered his rage, his wrath. They knew he was capable in destroying other witches -- even so-called immortal ones -- and he wouldn’t feel remorse over it. 

“No desire, likely. I’ve mellowed in my old age,” his lips twisted into a gentle smile. The times certainly did not call for his mellow nature. Things were at a knife point. “It’s both social and business. You know I am here for a reason, otherwise I would be elsewhere. I have no stomach for these artificial replications. I much appreciate and desire the real creation of God.” He was, and would remain, a Shepard of God. He had walked with the son, watched the disciples. And, just as humans were able to falter, so could the shepherds. He had made his mistakes. “What are you considering for food?”

[vntediluvian]

tessaclarke.

“I’ve been photographing for a very long time, and never once have I seen anything like this.” Maybe it was because she spent her time in the human world, taking photos of war-zones and faraway cities. She was starting to miss the heavy warm air of the desert, where things made far more sense than they were making in the place that she had once thought of as a peaceful home. “I just…what it would take to do this, it’s far beyond just witching powers. Cameras, they’re all technology. It’s not just - it’s not what they used to be.” She wasn’t a technology genius, despite the fact that she had been around since computers had been the size of a house, but she knew that the ability to mess with her photographs was far beyond the simple magic that people were believing it to be.

“And neither are witching powers.” He glanced to her, his head tilting. “Do you think that witches, and their powers, have not evolved as time and technology have progressed?” He may be old, but every day there was a new witch being born somewhere that possessed something new and great -- just waiting to be unlocked. “Three weeks ago I met a witch that could manipulate technology. They were far more advanced than hacker could ever be, and they were fifteen. I do not believe that this is so outworldly. I just believe it is something we have yet to see. A new generation of charms.”

[vntediluvian]

( @chaitali-kalabhra )

Time has a way of chipping away even the most brightest of souls. Long had Tiberius contemplated that they were never meant to live this long, let alone forever, yet they lingered on. God had been something of cruel, it seemed, to grant them this task and then watch as their own souls deteriorated. Over the years, Tiberius had wondered if he even had a soul left. Too much has passed. But, he knew he did. Because he saw in in the ability that he was still able to care for others. He was still able to reach out and forge a bond with another human. Perhaps that was cruel -- the heartbreak of them passing always hurt, but the joys of that were too sweet.

Arriving from the other side, he was not surprised to see someone nearly as old as he was. They were missing Travelers. Sliding into the same booth as her, he glanced to the barista and smiled. “Just tea please.” He’d grown fond of tea. Once upon a time it had been mead -- or coffee -- or any other variety, but tea was something that had stuck in his travels. He enjoyed it. “It has been a moment, my friend.” How long, exactly? Decades, he would think. He was a part of their council, but always distant. The younger Gatekeepers were usually a lot more enthusiastic, and he let them do their thing.

[vntediluvian]

solomonxkim.

It felt like a month since Bear told him to come to Gris-Gris. In reality, it was only a week and a half, but he felt antsy. The monotony of living here on the down time was a stark contrast to nights back in his time. Back with his brother who was likely worried about him. Time moved slower for Jay. He realized this early on when he came back after four days and learned it was only a day for his brother. A week and a half would be a few. Maybe three or four. It was enough to worry his brother, but Solomon knew better. Jay would never call the cops to look for him. They shared that sense of distrust in the law. So when he arrived at Gris-Gris, Jay was in the back of his mind. Instead, a spark of excitement bloomed at the forefront as the door chimed above his head.

Now, that the preliminary training ended, Solomon explored the artifacts a little more. He liked to wait for Bear to speak to him rather than just stride up. Solomon’s hands dangled a few centimeters above a tarot card. A flash of a memory crossed the back of his mind. He and Liam went at some point in high school after some party. Both of them drunk and a little superstitious. He remembered that his tarot card had to do with death. He wondered if he would get the same one now. The thought went away as Bear nipped the blade from his hand and tucked it away. He arched a brow at the mention of something new and an assignment. “Something special?” he echoed with a tilt of his head, “Is it a charm for the assignment? The last one you gave me worked well. They didn’t even hear me.”

“It’s something special,” Bear admitted, and dug into his pocket to give the charmed lighter to the boy. It was perhaps one of his favorite creations to date. “To others, it is rather unremarkable. Just a lighter. To you -- though -- it is quite powerful.” Bear paused and tapped his knuckles on the bartop, containing his smile for a moment. “Wouldn’t test it out here, but if you blow into the flame. I would loosely relate it to a dragon’s breath.” Tiberius knew dragons, he knew them because he had created a few. Perhaps that was his downfall, he had too much of a good time creating creatures that were never meant to be made. Perhaps that is why he was a teacher to the hunters, a warlock to the knights, mentor to anyone he could against dark things.

“Should aid you in the assignment and future ones.” He smiled, despite himself. “This one has to do with a particular pack of vampires. They’ve started a rather... infectious club in Amsterdam. A lot of young people have gone missing there and turned up days later with drugs in their system. And down several pints of blood. Victims were all recent blood donors to a particular branch of blood care medical.” Bear passed him a folder. “There are a significant amount of them, so while you read up, I am going to curate a few more charms.” Hunters usually kept to vampires and werewolves. Tiberius generally did not send them after witches. That usually meant his personal attention. Which is the reason why he was back here.

[vntediluvian]

tessaclarke.

She turned the computer without hesitation, adjusting the brightness and the tilt of the screen to ensure that he could see the screen completely. She couldn’t stop staring at it, and she couldn’t stop running over options in her head. It wasn’t possible - she knew that. But then again, how was she possible? How was it possible that she had lived for over a thousand years, how was it possible that she could shift on the full moon and become a four-legged monster? “Do you have any ideas? Answers?” 

His glanced to the photo, the sharp lines of the blotted figure. As a shapeshifter, he knew how that worked, and as a man who had created and come across many creatures he knew vastly more. His finger touched the screen gently as he thought. “It could be a charm. It’s not unlikely that someone created a charm that the camera would see this instead of whatever they were choosing to wear. It just means that anyone could have charmed though. They’re not hard to come across if you know where to look.” His head tilted as he looked to her. He wondered if she remembered him. Likely not. She had only seen him for a handful of moments before he condemned her elsewhere. Briefly, he wondered how she’d feel about her jailer. The jailer that had been seeking to destroy them.

[vntediluvian]

iseabailmcgillivray.

“Did you just speak English?” She asked, glaring up at him through fingers that she was currently rubbing over the front of her head. She considered herself to be of average intelligence, but whatever he had just said had made next to no sense to her, and she hadn’t even begun to be able to comprehend it. “My hero.” She said with a wry grin, accepting the vial and knocking it back without even questioning what was in it. 

“I haven’t used Old English in many, many years, so I would assume so.” He didn’t really question when she swallowed the drink without question. To him -- he wasn’t a stranger. He knew her lineage, rather well. The McGillivray witches were a powerful and old clan. He had assumed the line had died out after years of falling in love with humans and procreating with them. He had assumed wrong, as he felt the energy rolling off of her. His head tilted, wondering if she knew what she was capable of. He left it alone. “I have had my far share of hungover students, so that little potion has come in handy. Now there isn’t excuse to miss studies. I am Tiberius, but I find the younger crowd prefers to call me Bear.”