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Adrian

Lean Mean Writing Machine
Original poster
Posting Speed
  1. Multiple posts per week
  2. 1-3 posts per week
  3. One post per week
Online Availability
12NN-4PM, 7PM~
Writing Levels
  1. Adept
  2. Advanced
Preferred Character Gender
  1. No Preferences
Genres
80s, Action-Adventure, Alternative History, Angst, Apocalyptic, Comedy, Coming of Age, Cyberpunk, Dark Comedy, Drama, Dystopian, Fantasy, Futuristic, Grimdark, Historical, Horror, LGBTQ+, Modern, Mystery, Noir, Political Intrigue, Post Apocalyptic, Romance, Science Fiction, Space Opera, Steampunk, Survival, Thriller, Tragedy, Urban Fantasy, Wuxia
FONT1





don't go in the woods
CAST | LORE | IC
 
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Adrian

Lean Mean Writing Machine
Original poster
Posting Speed
  1. Multiple posts per week
  2. 1-3 posts per week
  3. One post per week
Online Availability
12NN-4PM, 7PM~
Writing Levels
  1. Adept
  2. Advanced
Preferred Character Gender
  1. No Preferences
Genres
80s, Action-Adventure, Alternative History, Angst, Apocalyptic, Comedy, Coming of Age, Cyberpunk, Dark Comedy, Drama, Dystopian, Fantasy, Futuristic, Grimdark, Historical, Horror, LGBTQ+, Modern, Mystery, Noir, Political Intrigue, Post Apocalyptic, Romance, Science Fiction, Space Opera, Steampunk, Survival, Thriller, Tragedy, Urban Fantasy, Wuxia
-- RESERVED FOR CHAPTER SUMMARIES/NAVIGATION --​
 
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Adrian

Lean Mean Writing Machine
Original poster
Posting Speed
  1. Multiple posts per week
  2. 1-3 posts per week
  3. One post per week
Online Availability
12NN-4PM, 7PM~
Writing Levels
  1. Adept
  2. Advanced
Preferred Character Gender
  1. No Preferences
Genres
80s, Action-Adventure, Alternative History, Angst, Apocalyptic, Comedy, Coming of Age, Cyberpunk, Dark Comedy, Drama, Dystopian, Fantasy, Futuristic, Grimdark, Historical, Horror, LGBTQ+, Modern, Mystery, Noir, Political Intrigue, Post Apocalyptic, Romance, Science Fiction, Space Opera, Steampunk, Survival, Thriller, Tragedy, Urban Fantasy, Wuxia
FONT 1
I.
The crows seem to herald nothing but bad news.

They perch atop the slender branches, watching the people below with their beady black eyes. Somber, mysterious, all-knowing. Their cries pierce the air, black feathers fluttering, disturbed by an unseen force.

There is a feeling of dread that hovers like the dark clouds above the town. Something pulses in the woods—a quiet heartbeat that only the crows can hear. Yet, everyone remains blissfully unaware of the terrors to come.

Inside the woods, he bides his time.

Patience is a virtue he has mastered to perfection, having been held prisoner of the forest for over a century. Slowly, craftily, he makes this place his kingdom. Before long, it shall bend to his will and pay its dues… with its own life.

A light breeze sighs among the trees like a dying man’s last breath.

He can feel his powers growing stronger.



Date: September 3, 1989 (Sunday)
Time: 17:00
Weather: Cloudy
Temperature: Cool

The town of Grimsby has never looked grimmer.

It is the dawn of a new school year and, arguably, the busiest time for months to come. The narrow and winding Gilded Crest road is congested with cars, occupied by students waiting to move into their residence halls. Meanwhile, an enviable few have already settled in. Despite the gloomy weather outside, many maintain a cheerful disposition. The hallways echo with animated voices and laughter as students meet their old friends and make new acquaintances.

Little do they know, hidden amongst the crowd are foes armed with a dark secret. They share the same goal, and after a year of no results, failure is no longer an option. The forest waits, and it watches.

To the west, a pale light flickers through the windows of a lone tower. As tradition dictates, the successors of the Founding Families must convene at their meeting table. Here, they are to discuss the year’s plans and their duties as Grimsworth’s quiet guardians. But that is not all. Today is an exceedingly special event as, for most of them, it marks their final year of schooling. Soon, they will be taking the helm as the town’s leaders. But before that, there is something they ought to know…



GM'S NOTE: And the IC thread is finally up. The Outsiders and the Orphans are free to do as they wish. Make friends, start fights—the story is yours. The Founding Families, on the other hand, have duties to attend to.

To the especially daring, feel free to explore the school grounds. Who knows, you might uncover a clue or two that can answer some of the town’s many mysteries. Just remember: don't go into the woods. You don’t want to know the secrets that lie waiting amidst the trees.

IC CODE

IC CODE (with music player)
IC CODE (collaborative posts - 2 characters)
IC CODE (collaborative posts - 3 or more characters)

 
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Princess Rose

Queen of Thorns, Princess of Iwaku
Posting Speed
  1. Speed of Light
  2. Multiple posts per day
  3. 1-3 posts per day
  4. One post per day
  5. 1-3 posts per week
Writing Levels
  1. Adept
  2. Adaptable
Preferred Character Gender
  1. Female
  2. Primarily Prefer Female
Genres
Fantasy, SciFi. modern, Romance, Naruto, Fairytale, Inuyasha
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Feyre Abernathy

Location:
Tower
Interactions:
Founder Kids

Eager would not be a word to describe Fey's mood, guarded would be better. She knew that her duties would be to plan for the year. She knew her duties would be even more this year as it was her last few years as a trainee and soon she would be taking her Mother's mantle. Her footsteps made light tapping noises against the stone as she climbed the tower to their place of meeting. No one knew what really happened in the tower that she was currently in. She approached the door and took a deep breath before she entered the large room. It was dimmed with candlelight and it gave everything a rather ominous glow. Feyre walked to the table and took her spot at the Abernathy seat. It took a lot for her not to walk away from that room. She knew the road ahead would be even more difficult as her training as well as the other founder kids' training was starting to come to an end. Nerves electrified her body and she felt like she was on pins and needles the entire time. The Abernathy house had to be strong; she had to be strong considering what happened only 2 years ago. She had to be a pillar for the others and she knew that if she wasn't a rock the others couldn't feed from her. She took out her Tarot cards that she carried with her everywhere. They were a comfort item for her; as she shuffled them she thought of the upcoming year. It was in her seat that she waited for the others to show.
 

Camleen

I'm going to be my own kind of princess
Posting Speed
  1. One post per day
  2. 1-3 posts per week
  3. One post per week
Writing Levels
  1. Intermediate
Preferred Character Gender
  1. No Preferences
Genres
In no particular order: Fantasy, Sci-Fi, Modern, Magical, Romance, anime, comic books, cartoons, video games..
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Clementine Date

Location:
Abernathy Hall
Interactions:
Yuzuki (momma)


“Any idea if you’ll have roomies?”

The voice is a kind one, and a little raised at the moment. Said voice originates from a taller woman (5’10” if you need her), clearly of Japanese descent. Her long and dark hair is pulled back into a ponytail going to nearly the middle of her back. The woman is dressed in a very nice pantsuit, a dark gray in color. And in each of her finely manicured hands she carries a suitcases. The suitcases seeming a bit heavy for her, judging by the way she is faintly slumped forward.

The question is posed to a much younger, much shorter (5’5” on this side) moving next to her. She shakes her head, her big doe eyes scanning left to right and then back as she moves beside and slightly behind the taller woman. She is also of Japanese descent, and a spitting image of the older woman when she was as young. Well aside from the younger's auburn hair. She, now, is clad in the school uniform she was afforded upon her acceptance to this school. A stylish black blazer with a white shirt under, a burgundy red tie sitting a little crooked upon her chest. She is wearing a black skirt with dark leggings and matching shoes.

She, frankly, felt like she was getting dressed for a funeral. But that may come later, won’t it?

The younger girl hurries her pace a few steps, her eyes still looking about as she moves with the woman. She is also carrying a suitcase, holding it in front of her with both hands. “I hope they’re nice. If I even got any.” her voice is on the higher range of a soprano register.


Now, dear reader, allow me to tell you more of the scene playing out here.

The taller woman is named Yuzuki Date, and the girl accompanying her is the daughter, Clementine Date. Pronouced ‘Dah-Tay’, in case it comes up. Date is Yuzuki’s maiden name, having changed it back after her marriage had ended. And Clementine did the same, taking her mother’s name. Their voices have to be slightly elevated considering the numerous voices and chatter around them within this heavily populated hallway. They move along the interior of Abernathy Hall, making their way to the room that young Clementine had been assigned. It is a strange contrast, this hall. It is mostly a steady flow of black with spots of brighter colors amongst that dark. The students, for the most part, wear their school uniforms. And the parents (and whomever might be with them to help with the move) wear more brightly hued clothing. A bland kaleidoscope of color with the occasional vivid color along the well lit hallway.


The two had come here together, the mother wanting as much time as she could get with her daughter before leaving her here. It’s an old argument… Clementine is nearly an adult (by legal means at least) and Yuzuki can’t keep her in the nest all her life. So Clementine has said many times. But for Yuzuki it’s just not that easy, it never is. The woman has lost so much, the one thing left of value in her life is her precious daughter. They have never lived apart until now, and so this is a fight for the heart. But Yuzuki is also wise enough to know that this is the right decision for Clementine, and she trusts her daughter enough to know she won’t be trouble. So she hopes, that is. In all honesty Yuzuki would say that Clementine is the most ‘grown up’ 17 year old she had ever encountered.

“Oh they’ll be nice to you, how could they not?” Yuzuki offers a reassuring smile as she looks out of the corner of her eyes to her daughter, and Clementine gives a small lopsided smile in return. How could they not, indeed. Clementine thinks about the response, her mind coming up with all sorts of awful scenarios as to how she would make a terrible first impression. And then from there it’s all downhill. Such are the doubts Clementine often finds herself facing.

They get to the appointed room, and Yuzuki marches right into it with all confidence. Clementine kind of sheepishly peeks into the room first, and then takes a step in. Stopping a moment, she then proceeds inwards. Slowly she would look about the room, her eyes wide. “Wow… big room” compared to what she’s used to. “no one here, neither.” She says softly. Yuzuki nods and sets the suitcases down next to one of the empty beds “No decorations or bags. So looks like we’re the first ones here.” She then turns, smiling to Clementine. “You’ll be okay? Want me to stay longer?” The latter question is more about her wanting to stay a bit longer. Quickly shaking her head, Clementine takes a big deep breath and moves towards the bed her mother had put her suitcases. She sets the last suitcase on the bed itself with a huff. “I’ll be okay, momma.” she then turns, her hands folding behind her back. “Really. I’ll be okay.” a smile up to her mother. “And you really want me to go, huh.” Her mother responds with a little grin. Clementine nods with a bigger grin and rushes towards Yuzuki, hugging her tightly. The mother embraces her tenderly, kissing the top of her head. “Okay okay. Call me tonight, please.” She then reluctantly lets go of Clementine, who nods in response. “Love you, kitsune.” Yuzuki says as she walks towards the door casually. Clementine waves to her as she smiles widely… and once her mother is out of sight Clementine lets out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. A grin once more graces her lips, and she looks towards her bed. Her mind already coming up with fun ways to decorate it and make this home….

 
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Kuno

Django Jane
INTERN MODERATOR
DONATING MEMBER
Posting Speed
  1. One post per day
  2. 1-3 posts per week
  3. One post per week
Writing Levels
  1. Intermediate
  2. Adept
  3. Advanced
  4. Prestige
  5. Adaptable
Preferred Character Gender
  1. No Preferences
Genres
Fantasy, Sci fi, Romance, Historical, Modern, Supernatural
FONT 1FONT 2FONT 3
R I C H I E
LET'S DANCE - DAVID BOWIE
Location:
The Lonely Tree
Interactions:

Grimsworth was painted in an abysmal melancholy. Cold, sunless, and grim - a poet’s wet dream. It clashed veritably with the excitement and laughter that filled the campus; what happened to the warmth and sunshine of September’s lingering summer?

Frankly, it was all a bit rude.

But also convenient. The gloom kept most kids indoors, and Richie could keep his coveted spot by the Lonely Tree so long as he liked. It was a good vantage spot: high and centered. Isolated. Out of sight and out of mind, with no prying eyes to accurately pinpoint what exactly was held between Richie Henley’s fingers.

Wisps of smoke escaped from between his lips. He sighed, and the smoke tendrils curled and faded away to join the grey clouds above. He took another puff off his cigarette, exhaling his satisfaction shortly. To say he was bored was understating it greatly. Two days he’d been on campus and he was already restless and stir-crazy. The summer hadn’t been too eventful. A party here and there with some outings sprinkled in. Not his finest hour but he definitely had plenty of time to live it up.

For now, he’d have to make do with what his fellow colleagues had to offer. Hopefully something more exciting than putting the same drab furniture in his room that he’d packed yesterday.

“What a drag.”

With a snort, Richie waved his hand dismissively, quirking a brow. For all his quirkiness, this was one instance where he wasn’t talking to himself. Joined on the cold soil besides him was a woman far grander in appearance: the blonde bombshell known as Persephone. Or Percy. Or Perce. Or Liza.

Etc. Etc.

“You all moved in?” Richie asked his friend of many names. When he next took a drag, he made sure to blow the smoke away from her direction. “‘Cause I’m bored, man. Kinda wanna take a look around and explore, yeah?”
 
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DANAsaur

obsessed and lonely
Invitation Status
  1. Look for groups
  2. Looking for partners
Posting Speed
  1. One post per day
  2. Multiple posts per week
  3. One post per week
Writing Levels
  1. Intermediate
  2. Adept
  3. Advanced
Preferred Character Gender
  1. Male
  2. Female
Genres
fantasy, modern, magical, romance, libertine
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Aoife Sheridan

Location:
Dorm - Tower
Interactions:
Anyone at the tower

Disheveled hair. Ruined makeup. Wrinkled clothes. Missing earring.

Aoife Sheridan cringed at her reflection. The remnants of last night were still fresh on her body as she glowered at the forming bruise on her neck. There's soreness and stiffness whenever Aoife moved though it is nothing that she cannot handle.

With a sigh, the Heiress of Sheridan walked out of the unfamiliar bathroom and didn't bother to glance at the sleeping figure lying carelessly on a bed. There was no time for her to dawdle. After all, she cannot be late for today's meeting.

Today marks the first day of her senior year. She cannot mess it up. Everything must be perfect or at least go according to plan.

Once she was in her dorm room, Aoife didn't waste time to begin her preparations. She made sure to look as perfect as usual: making it absolutely indisputable that nothing is out of place. There's still a slight pounding in her head though she was confident it will all soon be gone thanks to the ibuprofen she drank.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The tower was as gloomy and dull as always. Aoife wondered for a moment why no one dared to decorate the place though she soon deemed it was a waste of time. Besides, even though she hates to admit it, she somewhat finds the atmosphere comforting. It reminded her of the Sheridan household. Exactly after her siblings died.

The thought of her siblings clouded her mind before it shifted to her family. She wondered what her family was up to right now. Were they awake doing their usual routine? Did they receive the gift she sent during summer?

She was starting to get lost in her thoughts until she realized that she finally reached the door. Taking a breath, Aoife composed herself before entering.

"Morning." The Heiress of Sheridan greeted while gracefully making her way to her usual seat. "The tower is depressing as usual, isn't it?"


 

Adrian

Lean Mean Writing Machine
Original poster
Posting Speed
  1. Multiple posts per week
  2. 1-3 posts per week
  3. One post per week
Online Availability
12NN-4PM, 7PM~
Writing Levels
  1. Adept
  2. Advanced
Preferred Character Gender
  1. No Preferences
Genres
80s, Action-Adventure, Alternative History, Angst, Apocalyptic, Comedy, Coming of Age, Cyberpunk, Dark Comedy, Drama, Dystopian, Fantasy, Futuristic, Grimdark, Historical, Horror, LGBTQ+, Modern, Mystery, Noir, Political Intrigue, Post Apocalyptic, Romance, Science Fiction, Space Opera, Steampunk, Survival, Thriller, Tragedy, Urban Fantasy, Wuxia
FONT 1FONT 2FONT 3
ALISTAIR BLACKBOURNE
Location:
tower
Interactions:
Aoife, Feyre
Move-in day was always the busiest time of the year. It was a good thing Alistair had arrived at Grimsworth yesterday. Planning things in advance and being punctual always gave him some peace of mind. It wasn’t always fool-proof; there was always something he stressed over, but it helped in its own little way.

Dressed in a vest and a button-down shirt paired with some slacks, he made for the tower from his residence in Venture Hall. Like all Founding Family members, he possessed a key to the tower. Here, many a secret meeting had been held. After all, the Founding Families knew something everyone else didn’t. A secret that, if it were to get out, could potentially cost their lives, the future of the town…

And even the world itself.

Before long, Alistair reached the top of the staircase. A few of his colleagues had already assembled here. The decoration in the tower was sparse; after all, the room was meant to be functional, not superfluous. In the middle of the room was a round wooden table for their many meetings, and that was all of note. Any other item—books, notes, other particulars—would be too much evidence. Too much risk. Whatever they had to know, they kept it to themselves to be remembered.

“I think you mean ‘afternoon’, Sheridan,” Alistair remarked as he passed by the redhead, taking his usual seat. He looked in Feyre’s direction, gesturing towards her tarot cards. “I don't firmly believe in clairvoyance, but in the interest of passing the time while we wait for the others to arrive, shall we see a prediction of how this meeting will unfold?”
 
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Adrian

Lean Mean Writing Machine
Original poster
Posting Speed
  1. Multiple posts per week
  2. 1-3 posts per week
  3. One post per week
Online Availability
12NN-4PM, 7PM~
Writing Levels
  1. Adept
  2. Advanced
Preferred Character Gender
  1. No Preferences
Genres
80s, Action-Adventure, Alternative History, Angst, Apocalyptic, Comedy, Coming of Age, Cyberpunk, Dark Comedy, Drama, Dystopian, Fantasy, Futuristic, Grimdark, Historical, Horror, LGBTQ+, Modern, Mystery, Noir, Political Intrigue, Post Apocalyptic, Romance, Science Fiction, Space Opera, Steampunk, Survival, Thriller, Tragedy, Urban Fantasy, Wuxia
FONT 1FONT 2FONT 3
JOAN LAMBERT

Location:
abernathy hall (room)
Interactions:
With a duffel bag in one hand and a backpack slung over her right shoulder, Joan made her way through the packed Abernathy Hall, down to the room that had been assigned to her. Her first thought was: this place is so fucking weird. For a wealthy boarding school, Abernathy Hall looked like it needed some serious renovation. She had seen at least one hallway that had a no-entry barrier and maybe two doors that had been boarded up. It was very confusing. The hallways and the stairs had no synergy to them, as if they had all just sprung up randomly overnight. Something she never quite got used to even after years of residence.

Eventually, after a lot of annoyed swearing and head-scratching, she reached the door of the room she was meant to stay in. It didn’t occur to her that there might already be someone inside, so it didn’t occur to her to knock either. Instead, Joan barged into the room with such force that the door hit the wall with a bang. One had to admire its durability.

“Oh,” Joan said, stopping at the threshold to look at the door, as if surprised that it had followed the laws of physics. Then, shrugging, said, “My bad,” followed by her closing the door with her foot.

Dumping her bags on one of the bunk beds, Joan regarded the room for the first time. The walls were beige in color—though she was unsure if that was paint, or just a dirty white from the passage of time. There were some cracks in the wall, and maybe even a stain or two. Nothing out of the ordinary. Joan had been a student of Grimsworth for a couple years now, and had lived in Abernathy Hall this entire time, so she wasn’t particularly surprised. Unlike Florence and Venture, Abernathy was meant for the scholarship kids, after all.

The raven-haired girl nodded towards her new roommate.

“Name’s Joan,” she introduced herself with such nonchalance one would think it was almost forced out of her. From her pocket, she produced a pack of Gatorgum. She plopped one into her mouth before holding the pack out to the other girl. “Want one?”
 
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Adrian

Lean Mean Writing Machine
Original poster
Posting Speed
  1. Multiple posts per week
  2. 1-3 posts per week
  3. One post per week
Online Availability
12NN-4PM, 7PM~
Writing Levels
  1. Adept
  2. Advanced
Preferred Character Gender
  1. No Preferences
Genres
80s, Action-Adventure, Alternative History, Angst, Apocalyptic, Comedy, Coming of Age, Cyberpunk, Dark Comedy, Drama, Dystopian, Fantasy, Futuristic, Grimdark, Historical, Horror, LGBTQ+, Modern, Mystery, Noir, Political Intrigue, Post Apocalyptic, Romance, Science Fiction, Space Opera, Steampunk, Survival, Thriller, Tragedy, Urban Fantasy, Wuxia
FONT 1FONT 2FONT 3
THE LONELY TREE
GM Post (Place of Interest - Unlocked)
IN THE DISTANCE, a lone crow emerges from the forest thrashing its wings, a spattering of red dripping from its side. It heads to the Lonely Tree, struggling to maintain a steady flight. The closer it gets, the more it becomes apparent that it holds something in its beak. Something round and white with pink tendrils. The crow shivers and lets out a weak, muffled caw. Soon, it reaches its destination, hitting the tree trunk with a soft thud. Its blood splatters against some of the pale bark’s many engravings.

The white thing falls from the crow’s beak; and upon closer inspection, one would discover that it is what seems to be a human eye with a brown, unseeing iris. Yet, for some inexplicable reason, it bears no sign of blood. Where could it have come from? Who did it belong to?

The crow’s chest rises and falls, rises and falls. A long, jagged gash runs down its left side. It is a miracle that the crow is still alive, yet it will not remain so, if left alone.

@Kuno @Bubbly Potions
 
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neptune

𝓂𝒾𝓁𝓀 𝓉𝑒𝒶 𝒽𝑜𝓃𝑒𝓎 𝒷𝑒𝑒
SECURITY DEPARTMENT
Invitation Status
  1. Look for groups
  2. Looking for partners
Posting Speed
  1. 1-3 posts per week
  2. One post per week
  3. Slow As Molasses
Writing Levels
  1. Adept
  2. Advanced
  3. Prestige
  4. Adaptable
Preferred Character Gender
  1. Male
  2. Female
  3. No Preferences
Genres
Slice of Life, Horror, Fandoms, Superheroes, Crime, Drama, Grit, Supernatural, Light Sci-Fi, Modern Era, Dark Themes
FONT 1FONT 2FONT 3
CASEY DAWSON-LEPAGE
Location:
Abernathy Hall (dorm)
Interactions:

Worn out from another whirlwind summer holiday, Baby took his time settling back into good old Abernathy Hall. It was his home away from home, and although he’d loved getting to spend time with his mom, dad and the few friends he’d kept through various moves, it was good to get back to the familiarity of dingy walls, house spiders and the one window that leaked during every rain storm. After arriving late Saturday night, Baby slept for most of Sunday morning, and it was well past noon before he even bothered to unpack his bags.

Slowly but surely, Baby made progress as the afternoon wore on. Between naps and getting distracted by articles in a stolen airport magazine, he’d managed to put his clothes away into the dinged-up dresser that he would be sharing with three other people—two if he got lucky like last year—and he’d finally moved onto decorating. What was a dorm room without posters that the other roomies openly hated by midterms?

With a cigarette hanging out of his mouth, Baby stood barefoot in the center of the room, his head tilted and one eye closed as he eyed the small bit of real estate available to the left side bottom bunk. Just where could this Bad Religion poster go? Behind him, the door opened, and Baby jumped before flinging his cigarette out of the nearby open window. It wouldn’t have been the first time he’d been caught by an RA, and he didn’t want to start racking up detentions before the school year even started.

“You scared the shit out of me, man,” Baby laughed, grinning at the blonde stranger. “But hey, welcome! I’m Casey, but no one calls me that.” He rolled the poster back up and tossed it onto his unmade bunk. “Great to meet you. You’re new, huh?”
 

neptune

𝓂𝒾𝓁𝓀 𝓉𝑒𝒶 𝒽𝑜𝓃𝑒𝓎 𝒷𝑒𝑒
SECURITY DEPARTMENT
Invitation Status
  1. Look for groups
  2. Looking for partners
Posting Speed
  1. 1-3 posts per week
  2. One post per week
  3. Slow As Molasses
Writing Levels
  1. Adept
  2. Advanced
  3. Prestige
  4. Adaptable
Preferred Character Gender
  1. Male
  2. Female
  3. No Preferences
Genres
Slice of Life, Horror, Fandoms, Superheroes, Crime, Drama, Grit, Supernatural, Light Sci-Fi, Modern Era, Dark Themes
FONT 1FONT 2FONT 3
DAWN VENTURE
Location:
Tower
Interactions:
founder kids

Although she had somewhere to be, Dawn had taken to loitering around back of Florence Hall for the last hour or so. It was move-in day, and she enjoyed the shouts of fear and excitement filtering down through the open windows. The campus was bustling with activity from worried parents and eager students, and sometimes, it was nice to take a break in all of the commotion. The short blonde leaned with her back against the brick building, the wool on the back of her black cardigan pilling as she shifted around, first gazing at the clouds overhead and then out to the grounds.

There was no excuse for being late, she knew that, yet she couldn’t seem to make herself move. Frowning, she took another drag on her dwindling cigarette, the brown filter smudged with a ring of red lipstick. If the others knew what this meeting was about, they hadn’t shared it with her, but it didn’t matter, knowing wouldn’t have eased the sick feeling in her stomach. She took another drag, the heat of the orange ember threatening to burn her skin.

Finally, after talking herself out of another cigarette, Dawn got moving. She crossed the grounds as quickly as she could, passing the Lonely Tree that seemed to have some company that afternoon. She didn’t bother to look twice and simply continued on her way, swinging the key for the tower around on her finger as she went. The climb up the staircase somehow got more annoying every time they were called, but she was happy to see that she was neither the first or last to arrive. Her stomach started to settle, and she even managed a small smile toward the others.

“Are we telling fortunes?” Dawn asked Feyre, making her way to her usual seat at the large, round table. “Tell me how many minutes into this meeting it will be before I want to kill myself.” Perhaps it was a dark joke, but they’d all seen much worse.

Slumping down into her chair, Dawn knocked the edge of her chunky shoe against the next seat. “Does anyone know what this is about?” she asked, looking from her best friend, to Alistair and then to Aoife. “Probably not to tell us how wonderful we all are, right?” Pigs were more likely to fly before they ever got showered with compliments.
 

MiharuAya

Memento Mori
Posting Speed
  1. 1-3 posts per week
  2. One post per week
Online Availability
My timezone is PST
Writing Levels
  1. Intermediate
  2. Adept
  3. Advanced
  4. Adaptable
Preferred Character Gender
  1. Male
  2. Female
  3. Futanari
Genres
Homosexual, Romance, Fantasy, Scifi, Magic, Vampire, Werewolf, Supernatural, Angels/Demons, Superhero, Zombies
FONT 1FONT 2FONT 3
Leonardo Ferdinand
Location:
Abernathy Hall (Dorm)
Interactions:
Baby @neptune

While the imposing gothic structure standing before him might scare away most sane people, Leo stared upwards at it brimming with excitement. Even the dreary weather, nor the hangover thumping in his head couldn't shake the grin from his lips. The entire school was enveloped in a blanket of mystery, and from the moment that Leo heard about Grimsworth, he felt drawn to its strange aura. If he was going to be stuck at some boarding school in the middle of nowhere, at least at Grimsworth he knew he wouldn't get bored.

With his guitar strapped to his back, he confidently thrust open the door and stepped into his new life. The crowded halls were full of life, a stark contrast between the gloomy accommodations. The cacophony of chattering students filled the air, piercing Leo's already sensitive ears and triggering his headache. The blond quickly made his way through the winding halls, his eyes glancing to every staircase and corridor that he passed with curiosity.

The unusual architect of the Abernathy building was what first caught Leo’s attention. It looked to fit a cathedral rather than housing for students. Though, it was obvious the closer you examined the inside that the age of the building and its time of neglect was becoming more apparent. The floorboards creaked as he ascended the stairs, while the windows rattled with every breeze. Even so, despite his parents urging him to lodge at Venture, Leo felt Abernathy would better suit his desire for adventure.

It didn't take long for him to hear the rumors surrounding Abernathy hall when he first toured the school. From the hallways and staircases that seemingly lead to nowhere, to the eerily empty areas that no one dares to enter. Or, most notably, the woman who apparently haunts the clock tower. The more he heard, the more that it provoked his imagination.

When Leo finally reached the room, he opened the door without knocking. His mind had been so absorbed in taking in his surroundings, that he never considered that someone might be inside. As the other spoke, it appeared that he had spooked him. “Ah, sorry. I have to get used to sharing a room.” Leo chuckled with the other, stepping into the room. “I’m Leonardo, but call me Leo. Only my parents use my full name.”

With a teasing grin, Leo asked, “So, what should I call you not-Casey?” If first impressions were anything to go by, the other seemed to be pretty easygoing. When Leo first heard he would have roommates, the thought that he might not get along with them did cross his mind. At least for now, everything was going well. “Yeah, this is my first year. What about you?” Leo asked curiously, tilting his head as he spoke.

As Leo peered around the room, it seemed that he wasn't as late as he had thought. After his night of drinking and partying, his last night of fun before entering school, he had woken up late. Leo had assumed he would end up being the last to arrive, but it appeared he was wrong. “Is this spot taken?” He asked, throwing his thumb over his shoulder at the other bottom bunk.
 

Adrian

Lean Mean Writing Machine
Original poster
Posting Speed
  1. Multiple posts per week
  2. 1-3 posts per week
  3. One post per week
Online Availability
12NN-4PM, 7PM~
Writing Levels
  1. Adept
  2. Advanced
Preferred Character Gender
  1. No Preferences
Genres
80s, Action-Adventure, Alternative History, Angst, Apocalyptic, Comedy, Coming of Age, Cyberpunk, Dark Comedy, Drama, Dystopian, Fantasy, Futuristic, Grimdark, Historical, Horror, LGBTQ+, Modern, Mystery, Noir, Political Intrigue, Post Apocalyptic, Romance, Science Fiction, Space Opera, Steampunk, Survival, Thriller, Tragedy, Urban Fantasy, Wuxia
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KELLEN ARMSTRONG
WELCOME TO THE JUNGLE
Location:
abernathy hall → leaving
Interactions:
The moment Kellen ventured into Abernathy Hall, all he could think about was going someplace he could be alone. There were far too many people here for his liking, and what’s worse: they were talking about him. Clearly, his reputation preceded him. Some even had the balls to stare, which he acknowledged with a vicious scowl. If there was anything Kellen was good at, it was making people feel uncomfortable with just one look.

In time, he reached his room, the congenial voices of his future roommates spilling through the small crack between the door and its frame. But Kellen was in no mood for sociabilities. If Kellen had been acquainted with them last year, he likely didn’t remember them. His memory was a fickle thing, and a lot had transpired since he’d left Grimsworth. Too many.

Pushing the door open with his elbow, Kellen entered the room, ensuring that his guitar case didn’t hit the wooden frame on the way in. He didn’t so much as glance or acknowledge the other boys already standing inside. Instead, he made for the first empty bunk he could find, flinging his baggage onto the bed. Then, with the gentleness of a mother to her baby, Kellen set the guitar horizontally on the ground, right next to the wall.

Without a word, he turned on his heel and headed for the door, slamming it shut on the way out.
 
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Ghostly Boo

Edgepeasant
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SERENA BLACKBOURNE
Location:
tower
Interactions:
founding kids

Serena headed up to the top of the tower, ready to get the meeting over and done with. She hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep, which was normal for her, at least for the first few nights of being away from home. It was hard adjusting to the sudden change of not needing to be tense every minute of every day. Not that it always stopped even being away from home.

She’d spent most of the morning listening to music and playing her violin. She’d settled into her room already, as she usually did, she preferred it here.

She pushed open the door to the meeting, irritation immediately flooded in at the sight of Alistair. She’d hoped that she’d beat him here so she could avoid having to acknowledge him even a little bit. She couldn’t help the anger she felt towards him, not after everything.

She crossed the room to drop into the seat beside Aoife. “Afternoon,” She muttered, acknowledging everyone except her brother.
 
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Adrian

Lean Mean Writing Machine
Original poster
Posting Speed
  1. Multiple posts per week
  2. 1-3 posts per week
  3. One post per week
Online Availability
12NN-4PM, 7PM~
Writing Levels
  1. Adept
  2. Advanced
Preferred Character Gender
  1. No Preferences
Genres
80s, Action-Adventure, Alternative History, Angst, Apocalyptic, Comedy, Coming of Age, Cyberpunk, Dark Comedy, Drama, Dystopian, Fantasy, Futuristic, Grimdark, Historical, Horror, LGBTQ+, Modern, Mystery, Noir, Political Intrigue, Post Apocalyptic, Romance, Science Fiction, Space Opera, Steampunk, Survival, Thriller, Tragedy, Urban Fantasy, Wuxia
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TASTES LIKE CIGARETTES
UNDERGROUND - DAVID BOWIE
Location:
music & theatre rooftop
collaborative post for:
kellen x calista
As soon as he’d dropped his bags off at Abernathy Hall, Kellen made his way to the most secluded place he could find. Having acquainted himself with the school layout the year prior, this wasn’t a difficult feat. There were still some places he hadn’t quite explored yet, but he knew enough. One of the spots he liked to frequent was the rooftop of the Music and Theatre building.

Sometimes, Kellen liked to go up here to have a smoke with Dakota. Other times, he and the boys would use the rooftop to get themselves on the other side of the fence. And still other times, he went up here to be alone.

The boy started towards the edge, but he wasn’t the only one who sought refuge on the rooftop. There was another person. A girl leaned against the left wall of the vestibule, headphones settled over her ears to listen to a cassette playing David Bowie. She seemed to be off in her own little world, as if her head were fogged and clouded, while she sang to the Labyrinth soundtrack with a hauntingly clear and clean voice—siren-like in the open air.

Slipping her headphones off with the music still faintly emanating from them, the girl glanced over her shoulder to look at the new arrival. Lips pursed and eyes narrowed, her posture instantly straightened as she smoothed out her skirt and turned slowly to face him. It was only perhaps a good few seconds until the boy realized—or rather, heard—that he was not alone. He looked behind him for the first time since he had escaped to the roof.

He stared at her, and she stared back.

The girl—like Kellen—dressed out of uniform attire. But unlike Kellen, who preferred jackets and air jordans, she wore an off-shoulder shirt with puffed sleeves capped at the wrist, black cincher grasping her waist into a shapely figure, as well as a matching skirt and string choker. Her make-up was soft—all pink eyeshadow, lips, blush—with an artistic touch of a white crescent moon on her forehead; her style likely inspired by the whimsical and enticing melodies of the artist she now listened to.

Breaking eye contact for a moment, Kellen searched his pocket for a lighter and a packet of smokes. Before long, he held a cigarette between his lips. Smoke curled around him as he slowly walked towards her, his eyes never straying away from her face. When he finally reached her, he leaned with one shoulder against the wall and nodded towards her headphones. Briefly, he held the cigarette between his fingers to speak.

“Bowie, huh?”

“Yeah, one of the greats,” the girl commented with little care for formalities.

“What’s your name?”

“Isn’t it polite to introduce yourself first, princeling?”

The boy shrugged.

“Kellen,” he said simply.

“Calista,” she replied. A nicely shaped brow cocked as her head settled to the side. “Those smell rancid, Kellen.

Calista gestured to the cigarette, her tone curt and blunt.

If Kellen noticed how cold the girl was being towards him, he didn't show any indication of it. Instead, he remained where he was, letting the cigarette linger between his fingers for five long seconds out of sheer defiance. Among the list of things he didn’t like, it was being told what to do. But also among the list of things he did like, girls were one of them.

His gaze held an unwavering intensity as he roughly stubbed the cigarette out on the wall, before letting it drop to the ground. Calista watched the embers of the cigarette bite and fade, leaving only a mark on the bricks—the last signs of life from the small death-bringer.

“There,” the boy said, shifting slightly so that he was now leaning with his back against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. Though no hint of flirtatiousness could be discerned from his face, his eyes lingered on her mouth, her neck, her shapely figure… “So, what’s a pretty girl like you doing up here, anyway?”

The girl leaned back as well, mirroring him.

“I heard it was a full moon tonight, so I was leaving my crystals out somewhere to take the direct light of the moon,” she mused, picking at her nails for a moment. Her tone was no longer harsh. Perhaps it was more lazy than the rehearsed and accommodating tone she’d been using all day. “That, and getting away from fake arses.

“What about you, princeling? If you’ve come here to pick up a girl, wouldn’t a tower be more fitting? I’ve heard there’s a really appealing blonde with long hair around here. Maybe you could pull it,” Calista smirked, offering a vulgar jest as she thought about the girl she’d seen earlier, and how she’d looked like something out of a story book by the way she dressed.

“Who says I haven’t already?" Kellen replied, a cheeky lopsided grin gracing his features for the first time since their meeting. “Besides,” he cocked his head towards her, fingers lightly grazing her hair until he reached the tips, at which point he gave it a light tug. “I think I prefer girls with blue hair.”

The tug caught the girl by surprise, causing her lips to part slightly at the pressure.

“Ow,” she mocked, lacking sincerity. Peroxide burns hurt more. "I hope you can pull harder than that.”

Biting her bottom lip, Calista's eyes swept over his figure with a lack of shame. Of course, she had noticed him doing just that a little while ago. So, fair’s fair, darling.

“Must be a lonely life, Not many girls with blue hair out there, from what I’ve seen,” she continued, her eyes now meeting Kellen’s gaze as she clicked her tongue at the thought.

“Maybe you can make it a little less lonely then,” the boy returned, his voice dropping to a whisper as he spoke into her ear.

Calista smirked, feeling the warmth of his breath against her earlobe.

“Or your hand could.” She licked her lips, trying to relieve the chapped feeling.

There was a momentary pause in their conversation as Kellen's gaze dropped to her lips. It didn't escape his notice how she licked them. He saw it as an invitation, even if the girl probably didn't mean anything by it. Whatever the case, he could tell that she was into him, if her smiling and flirting back were any indication. And Kellen did not like to wait.

So he leaned down to kiss her.

She didn’t pull away. Instead, she submitted to the kiss, if only for a moment. Kellen brought a hand to the back of her head as they made out, bringing her closer to him. Then, out of nowhere, she nipped at his bottom lip. The boy, taken by surprise, drew back and rubbed a thumb against the place she had bitten. Calista offered the most mischievous glint to her eyes.

“Tastes like cigarettes,” she remarked, hands bunching up his shirt collar.

She pulled him in for more.
 
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Ghostly Boo

Edgepeasant
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DAKOTA YAKAMA
Location:
abernathy hall
Interactions:
Kota slung his duffle bag over his shoulder while dragging the other bag down the hall to his room. Shared of course, no way he could afford those fancy ones the rich bastard in this place coveted, besides, he liked rooming with others, it got pretty entertaining at times.

He didn’t bother knocking when he arrived, just shoved the door open with his foot. “Sup,” He greeted the pair already inside. He scoped out the rest of the room, the beds already taken, bags sitting on beds and finally a familiar case.

A fender guitar case, covered in old stickers of ACDC, gun and roses and a few others. Oh he knew this case. A shit eating grin grew on his face as he moved his gaze to the bed with abandoned bags. He beelined right to it, throwing his duffle up before effortlessly lifting himself onto the bed. He flopped down onto his back, kicking Kellens bags onto the ground.

“Good mate that one, saving me a bed like that. ”He tucked his arms under his head, making himself comfortable.

“Hey,” He said, greeting them again this time with a nod of acknowledgment.
 

Vinn

Edgepeasant
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BENJAMIN KOVENSKI
Location:
greenhouse
Interactions:
n/a

Abernathy Hall was uncanny. It didn't matter that this was his senior year attending Grimsworth. The first day was always difficult. Freshman year - sure, it may have been a pitiful case of feeling homesick. But relentless, the transition into the walls of the institution made him feel sick and heavy. It was a shock to his system - a warm welcome.

The bead of sweat that pooled into his collarbone felt warm against damp cotton. Having spent the day cleaning his room and repotting the plants in the greenhouse, Benji felt groggy. He had considered taking a nap as advised by his Baby boy. But the dreams.. the fucking! dreams of winding stairs and whispering halls.

It made him reluctant to sleep.

Habitually, Benji made quick to pre-occupy himself. Once he organized his belongings, he found escape and solace in the soil stained room. He knew the faculty members wouldn't extend their efforts in keeping the greenhouse over the summer. But somehow it was always well maintained.

"I really hate leaving you here."

Benji recalled his aunt's concern as she dropped him off to spend his last year. Rarely anything spooked her, but Grimsworth was definitely charming enough.
 

Bubs

twinkle twinkle little bat
INTERN MODERATOR
DONATING MEMBER
Posting Speed
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  3. 1-3 posts per day
  4. One post per day
  5. 1-3 posts per week
  6. One post per week
Online Availability
Currently throughout the day to late at night... Haven't got any work at the moment.
Writing Levels
  1. Give-No-Fucks
  2. Intermediate
  3. Adept
  4. Advanced
  5. Adaptable
Preferred Character Gender
  1. Female
  2. Primarily Prefer Female
Genres
Fantasy, Fandom, Original Plots, Romance, Historical, Modern, Hero Based and Drama
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PERSEPHONE FRELING
CAN'T HELP FALLING IN LOVE WITH YOU
Location:
The Lonely Tree
Interactions:
Richie @Kuno

She was quiet as ever, Persephone sat nearest her friend, but not near enough to feel the effects of his smoking. Her grey-grey eyes enjoying the sight of the fading smoke, amongst the gloomy backdrops. It was something straight out of an Edgar Allen Poe book; perhaps, he’d been into those forests and seen things. Unexplained things… Her brow creased at the thought, looking to Richie when he spoke.

“I think it’s nice out here. But you are quite literally taking a drag, Richie.” She smiled; her voice was a note whimsical. If not a note timid. The attempt as a quip instantly made her gaze lower to her hands. Worried, that it was merely a pathetic try—at being something she is not.

Normal. Relevant.

Fingers ran through her hair, almost defensively. It had very quickly become a routine for her. A safety blanket. After the break always felt like building herself back up. Especially with the influence of her mother lurking. Trying to stroke out the tensions like knots. Fingers snagging, pulling a few strands loose.

Percy quietly looked towards Richie with watery eyes. “I’m sorry—that, that joke was lame.” She scolded herself at the attempt of light hearted banter. Smoothing out the fabric of her dress—as if obsessively trying to remain composed in appearance. A trace whimsical in her appearance, long her trickling down her shoulders. Her skirt a light flowy material, that collected at her blouse tucked into it. Her shoes were a brown pair of docs and stocking matching her skin tone beautifully, suited her. Draped around her shoulders was her cardigan, just settled there. Flowers stitched into the collar and materials—offering the needed pop of colour.

“I’m all moved in now, mother had me pack lightly this time.” A curious one her mother was... Ever the dictator of her daughter’s life. “We—we–could explore,” she stuttered. Though her gaze turned skyward. Frowning momentarily. The caw from a crow startled Percy, darting some a forest she’d rather forget. Persephone shot to her feet warily. Seeing the animal thrash and struggle. It’s distress made her wince, eyes growing glassy.

“Richie, Richie that poor bird is injured!” She cried. First seeing the blood after the spray against the tree. Paying no mind to the nonsense markings on the bark of the Lonely Tree. Moving quickly to the harmed animal.

Persephone dug around in her pockets for a hankie. Holding it to the bird’s blood wound. Doing her best to stuff the wound. Eyes darting about remembering seeing something drop from the bird’s beak. Then, physically she paled. Noticing the white ball was an unseeing eye. Making the most shrill scream escape her lips in the horror of it. Hands stained red with the crow blood stained her cheeks, the moment she went to cover her mouth. Tears rolling down her cheeks—running a line in the blood she just smeared on her face. “Its an eye...”

 
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Adrian

Lean Mean Writing Machine
Original poster
Posting Speed
  1. Multiple posts per week
  2. 1-3 posts per week
  3. One post per week
Online Availability
12NN-4PM, 7PM~
Writing Levels
  1. Adept
  2. Advanced
Preferred Character Gender
  1. No Preferences
Genres
80s, Action-Adventure, Alternative History, Angst, Apocalyptic, Comedy, Coming of Age, Cyberpunk, Dark Comedy, Drama, Dystopian, Fantasy, Futuristic, Grimdark, Historical, Horror, LGBTQ+, Modern, Mystery, Noir, Political Intrigue, Post Apocalyptic, Romance, Science Fiction, Space Opera, Steampunk, Survival, Thriller, Tragedy, Urban Fantasy, Wuxia
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THE PROVIDER
GM Post - NPC
THERE WERE NO FOOTSTEPS to warn the students of his arrival. Instead, the door merely creaked open—so slowly one could easily mistake it for the wind. The Provider soon appeared on the landing, regarding the individuals in the room with gray-blue eyes. They weren’t a pretty blue, like ocean, or baby, or cornflower. Rather, they were bitter cold, like a piercing stalagmite, frost, hypothermia. His gaze was steady; one would think he never learned how to blink.

Despite his powerful eyes, the Provider had a frailty to him. As he walked to the table at the center of the room, one could note his gauntness, bony fingers, liver spots, and the hard lines of age across his face. Yet, they were as much a mark of his weakness as they were his strength. For the Provider had been at the helm of the Council for many, many years—unchallenged, undefeated, undying.

Upon his bald head a singular worm curled, its tail and head meeting at the center of his forehead as though to form a headpiece—his crown, a symbol of his power. Around his wrists and fingers were smaller worms, ever-coiling, as if they wound tighter and tighter around his skin. If they had been bronze, or silver, or gold, one could mistake them for jewelry. Alas, they were the color of flesh—pink, moving, and very much alive. They were partially concealed by his brown hooded robe—one reminiscent of a monk’s, pulled taut at the waist by a thin white rope.

The Provider did not sit.

“My dear children,” he said, his voice feeble but grating. He extended a hand as though to begin an oration. “Today is a significant day, as it marks the beginning of your final year at Grimsworth. In a year, you will be succeeding those of us in the Council. You are aware that Helpers are elected, but you do not know how the Provider is chosen. Today, I will impart the answer you have been seeking.

“Years ago, you swore your oaths in front of the Council. One, in particular, is of relevance today. Who among you can tell me which oath I speak of?”


The old man looked each of his pupils in the eye, waiting for an answer.

@Princess Rose @DANAsaur @neptune @LuluBunny @Bubbly Potions @Ghostly Boo
 
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