Spirit Guardians: Chosen Children of Magic

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Eliora

Awakening
Original poster
LURKER MEMBER
Invitation Status
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Posting Speed
  1. 1-3 posts per week
Writing Levels
  1. Beginner
  2. Elementary
  3. Intermediate
  4. Adept
  5. Advanced
  6. Prestige
  7. Adaptable
Preferred Character Gender
  1. Male
  2. Female
Genres
Fantasy, Mystery, Adventure, Exposition.
Article:
Rabbit Hole News
Whispers of the Grounds

At the grounds of Alice Eventyr University, a student has turned up dead in the football field. With the student was a small, carefully crafted box. Many students in the University are saying they have encountered strange experiences since this grizzly discovery. Whispers of the deceased or something else entirely. Unexplainable fear emanating from dark rooms despite having been in them before.
Rumors portray the box was opened which unsealed ghosts or evil spirits to roam the University grounds. There is high belief among a few that it could have been the one and only, Pandora's Box.

Authorities are quick to disagree about the mentioned happenings and say the students are traumatized by the dreadful event. Thus, jumpy at every bump in their day.
"Young ones today…" A disgruntled chief police officer commented as he walked away from the podium, after a speech in attempt to keep the public peace.

Rumours continue to run like wildfire, although in silence due to the University's new policy. This topic in particular is under tight wraps and anyone caught spreading more of this "nonsense" faces expulsion, leaving the students' concerns to burn within them.
At this time no one is able to come to an agreement about what happened to the student in question. Furthermore, there isn't a release of the student's name or gender. Only those who have witnessed the body and recognize who they were know the truth – and it is you who we want to interview! Only you know the truth of who that student was and we would like to remember said student in happier times, and perhaps quench the wildfires around the campus.

Interviews can be listened to on our radio channel: Twilight Door. Remember to tune in at 12:00am!

** For Interviews: Reply to one of our tracks on the back by printing your name and leave it in the Black Book in the library. Otherwise, please remember to safely and discretely dispose this track! **


In a nutshell: Your characters are the few students of Alice Eventyr University and called to become the Chosen Children, the Spirit Guardians to protect the city, Mysten from calamity; all while keeping up with their classes and secret identity from the public.

It's a new year of University for everyone, whether it be a first time or "X" amount of years. Your character tucks the news track into their bag with feelings about the whole situation.
At the end of day from classes, your character comes across something… odd. (About the deceased student and something out of place. Something that shouldn't exist, like magic. It could be an item or even a shift of time and space. This will lead your character to transformation and open them to a realm they haven't seen before.)

 
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Rosetta Penelope Boniwell


Alice Eventyr University wasn't a quiet place. That was something Rosetta had to get used to when she first enrolled at the academy. Her education prior to college was mostly homeschooling from private tutors, and an odd year or two in high school so she could experience a 'normal' graduation. But even that didn't compare to the sheer volume of... well, volume this university was capable of producing.

Except, now, that wasn't the case. It was still noisy, but with a subdued hush around the campus. The whole campus seemed to have taken a downer with the discovery of the poor student's body on the field. Laughter now seemed inappropriate, and the constant rumblings of mysterious circumstances overtook the usual gossip and rumors. While Rosetta could understand the curiosity caused by the terrible incident, she wished that the hubbub would just die down a little.

That was exactly what she was feeling right now. Rosetta sat at a table in the library, knee-deep into her schoolwork. Books of various subjects were stacked high on one side of the table, and papers with all kinds of notes and diagrams covered the table like cloth. Her pens were placed neatly to the side, and her laptop showed helpful instructions for the research she was making. Yet she couldn't focus on anything before her, the constant noise of the university seemingly following her here of all places.

She sighed deeply as she tried to recall her breathing exercises. It was terribly annoying. The Library was meant to be quiet, why were they still talking? And why did none of the librarians begin to shush the offenders? She tried her best to ignore the world around her, trying to meditate, block them out with earphones, but nothing seemed to be working. It almost seemed like they wanted her to hear, with vague figures passing by uncomfortably close to her table. After the nth time of trying to answer a worksheet and failing to do so because of the noises, she snapped.

"Can you be quiet?" She grumbled, glaring in front of her, only for her to pale considerably after. Though she swore she saw something or someone stay there before she moved, when she looked up there was no one there. She looked around her to see if the perpetrator moved to avoid her, but found no one there. No one was. And with the exception of the light directly above here, nothing else in the room was open.

"Where is everybody?" Her brow creased in confusion and worry. When she entered the library, she spotted at least three other students by the entrance and many more on her way to her favorite study table. "What is going on?"
 
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Samuel F. Kane III

Dusk had already begun to settle when Sam entered his room in the upperclassmen dorm. He winced his eyes as he was caught by the influx of the late afternoon glow through the west-facing window; the hallways and stairwells leading up to the room had been dim in a jarring comparison. He fell still, bathing in the orange light for a protracted moment while his eyes adjusted, and then some, as though the senset were a cleansing force that abrazed the woes from his spirit. He breathed in slowly, only to lose his control on the outward breath, practically spitting the air from his mouth a like a rotten grape.

He gave a mild groan and heaved his heavy, book-filled bag down onto the floor next to his bed. It landed with a resound thud against the hard surface beneath the carpeting.

"Whoa!"

Sam jumped as his roommate's voice pipped up from the other side of the room. A face, equally as startled as his own peered at him from around the opposite bed loft. "Sorry!" Sam shuffled over to his bed and flopped down on the mattress. "Didn't know you were already back."

"You OK Sam?" his roommate asked, now standing up and looking over him. "You look like shit."

Sam wiped a sweaty palm down his face. "Yeah. I'm... I'm good. Just... a lot lately, you know?"

"Yeah."


The death of the student not even days prior had been weighing on nearly everyone's mind. Faculty and staff hadn't spoken of it since the body had been discovered; they refused to entertain any mention of it. Still, the student body had managed to set the campus ablaze with opinions, theories, rumors, and even an abundant dose of conspiracies to go along. Sam had done his best not to allow the fire of whispers and mutterings to take hold of him, but the day's events had sparked something in him that he couldn't shake. Weird things had been happeneing around the University since the death as it was, and now they seemed to be... esccalating. "All of the talk around campus," he started, looking up at his roommate. "You reckon there might be something to them?"

"I don't really know what I think man. But listen, a few of us are gonna get out tonight... maybe get on a bar crawl or something. Take our minds off it all for a few hours. You want in?"

Sam shook his head.
"No. I don't think I've got that in me. Not tonight. I've got something I need to take care of."
His roommate shrugged, and started out the door. "Whatever works for you man. If you change your mind, we'll be around Northside.... we think.... see ya."

The heavy door shut as though it were slammed, and reverberated in Sam's head. He pressed two fingers to his temples, and squeezed his eyes shut. The static fuzz of the inside of his eye lids replaced the sunlight in accosting his sense sight. A rush of voices came through the door from the hallway, most of them somber, though some hopefully upbeat, talking of their upcoming night on the town. Steadily, these sounds faded to a dull roar echoing up from the stairwell and then, finally, into pure silence.

Sam stayed in his bed, eyes closed for several minutes. Before long, the darkness of his closed eyes gave way to visions... a cold, pale face floated in and out of sight, clear as day, was the impetus for him reopening his eyes. He dove down from his bed, and rifled through his backpack until he found what he was looking for: instructions... directions to somewhere in the library where he could make his thoughts known. Upon it, he had jotted down his name "Sam Kane." He stared at the track for a bit, his hand shaking, his mind deliberating. After some toil of decision making, he took to his feet, and made his way down the stairs and out of the dorm.

Track in hand, he made his way towards the library. Along the way he noticed that the campus felt different. Not the same different that had permeated the air since the incident either. Something more mysterious was creeping its way about the courtyards, sidewalks, and corridors. The energy was palpable. It gave validity to some of the gossip that run about the university. He hadn't told anyone, not even his roommate, but in the preceding days, Sam had heard and seen things that he couldn't quite explain; the echoing of bodiless voices cut through the silence of empty rooms; figures like shadows moving in the corners and off in the distance. At first he thought he was just stressed, or in shock, or even in an odd stage of grief. But as the days slipped by him, as the feelings came more under his control, the strange activities persisted, some even more pronounced than before.

As he cut across campus towards the library, despite that there didn't seem to be too many people in sight, he could hear no shortage of murmers, as though people were huddled together in quiet conversation in places just out of his view. Something, a force of sorts, was urging him on towards his destination. The closer he got, the louder the sound of voices grew. By the time he crossed through the front doors of the Library, it was like listening to the people that were outside of his room not even an hour earlier. He ascended the the stairs, up into the stacks... the sound of ferverous talking was practically in the same room as him.

He crossed into the quiet study area... and the cacophony came to an abrupt stop, puncutated by a single voice.


"What is going on?"

Another student was looking up from a study table, looking perplexed and worried. Sam turned the corner and looked at the girl. "Uuh... You didn't... You heard that too, right?"
 
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♱ MORGO ARAMAND



Morgo's head pounded, a searing migrane pulsing rhythmically from one side of his head to the other. To simply say he was exhausted was an understatment, dead-bone-tired was more like it. He hadn't been sleeping well for the past few days, as a matter of fact he hasn't been sleeping at all, all the recent events had caused him to stress more than was good for his skin or head. His eyebrows were eternally furrowed as he nursed a juice box, the only proper nutrition he has been getting, as he stared out into the middle distance, past the bookshelves and flickering light of windows shining on the table. He took another loud and unecessary slurp and sank further into his seat. Too bright - he thought, head knocking backwards to stare at the cieling instead. He remembered how it went, everything prior this.



"You . . fucking idiot" His words were tired and frustrated above all else, a scowl painted on his face as he had one of Dennis's arms swung over his shoulder, dragging him along back towards their dorms. He wasn't nearly strong enough to just tug him along , so he audibly struggled as he supported his friends weight. Though, if you asked him, he wouldn't be calling him a friend in this specific moment. They'd both, on this eventful night, decieded it would be best for them to make a short leave from their rooms into a club, just to let loose for a bit, away from studies and stuck-up students - and also because Morgo was planning on performing.

He had his guitar strapped to his back, one or two strings now plucked and hanging in the wind. The night would have gone wonderfully if it hadn't been for some fools heckeling and Dennis's fire-light attitude of immideitly throwing himself into a fight on his behalf. Or maybe he was itching to get his hands dirty, Morgo was sure he'd inbibed his fair share of dirty-cheap alchohol (not that he hadn't either, but it didn't lead him into throwing punches with the first drunk he encountered). The night was spectacularly ruined, of course, and they were kicked from the bar, performance stopped for the near future.


"You just had to ruin the whole thing? You knew how excited I was for the performance" He spat "And did you hear what they said?! no coming back until you learned your lesson - that's esentially them banning us for our lifetime, dipshit"

He saw the univeristy get closer as they hobbled, Morgo's hand white-knuckled as it gripped Dennis's side, deeply reluctant about helping him out at all with how volitile his emotions were right now. This was supposed to be his night and he had been so estatic about finally getting out of those suffocating dorm rooms and straight up jorkin' it. But rather, he ended up fighting with Dennis, he didn't hurt him in any way of course, didn't want to knock out the poor guy (couldn't if he wanted to he thought) but he did give him a shove or two, maybe yelling some insults about how he just had to become plastered and mess up the one thing he was looking foward to. He was almost sure, in the back of his head, he wouldn't mean half of these things when he woke up the next day with a hangover and a lessened will to live, but at that moment they felt real and venemous.
"Fuckass, good job fucking up again, why don't you go like - I don't know! get lost!"
With a shove more powerful than he intended it to be, he had pushed Dennis over, knocking him on his back. Or at least, that's what he thought he did at first. He had felt a sudden pang of regret and was going to move to get him up if it haden't been for the other thing intercepting his vision, a body. He had looked at it, then back at Dennis, then back at the body. His first thought was, what idiot sleeps on the floor? He laughed and tch'ed at the body "The fuck . . .?" He had looked at Dennis with the intent to mock this entire situation but . . . quick realisation had dawned on them.


Morgo doesn't remember much of the rest of the day, or really what they did. He remembered himself just standing there and staring down the body, completly and utterly confused at first, then the dawn of horror pitching itself into his gut. He remembered sitting on the bathroom toilet for a while after they arrived back at the dorm, and he didn't think that was just the bad beer. It was difficult for him to really remember the rest of the night, the interviews and the relentless amount of cops . . . and just the sickening feeling of everything, the corpse. It was really, strange, how these things happen.



His eyes creaked open, a pang of pain at the side of his head shaking him out of his stupor. The juice box he'd been drinking of on his lap while the straw was being cheewed between his teeth, arms crossed. A grumble, a sigh, and then a hand massaging the bridge of his nose. All of that was a bit ago, and yet he cant get the vision of a corpse out of his head. He thinks it strange for a person like him who so prides himself on just how hardcore he is to get sickened with a sight like that, but c'mon - it was a dead body for crying out loud! He looked to the side to just make sure Dennis hadn't magically vanished out of the library, and then looked back down at his lap when he confirmed he was there. He hadn't talked much with the guy since that day, maybe a mixtrure of elongated frustration of the day and just the sheer fuckery of what had happened afterwards. But they're both tired, and the mutual understanding they share of just sticking by each others' side through this was comforting if anything.


As he let his eyes flutter close again, he simply couldn't drift of into mindless daydreaming with just how much noise there were, it was as if all of the noise that could possibly be happened all at once. The squeaking of shoes, the rustling of trees outside, the fluttering of paper, how did it all become so loud
? It's as thought everything possibly around him was trying to piss him off. Eyebrows furrowed, hands clenched and the need to just throw something, but when they snapped their eyes open to just do something against this onslaughter.

"What the fuck man"

He looked at Dennis, clearly annoyed (whereever he was around the library), then looked over his shoulder and swung an arm over the chair he sat at, as though he was expecting someone to be there, and he swore to God he saw a sliver of something, a shadow, or a sudden movement that caught the corner of his eye, dark as though trying to escape from his line of sight. He squinted and leaned forward on his chair, having it squaeaaak. "What the . . " He whispered, and when took a pencil to chuck it at Dennis's head "Hey hey, did you see that" he pointed his nose at the entrancee of the library, maybe Dennis felt it too? He spoke with gritted teeth, not really trying to stay quiet in this place, loud enough for anyone with good ears to hear. The feeling of nausa hit his back again, similar to that day, and he almost expected to see another corpse on the floor past the entrance. He shut his eyes that had begun to cloud over, rubbing it out and smuding the bit of poorly painted on makeup. He pushed himself up, spitting out the straw and just chucking the rest of the apple juice box to Dennis and the other people, maybe in a way to get him up as well. He looked around at the few other people in the room as well, maybe two more, but they seemed distracted for now, so he adjusted his shirt and appraoched the door.

He peeked out, and quickly his eye got caught by a flicker of light against something, ah - a pick? A guitar pick.

And there behind them were more items further down the hall, some he doesn't recognize, some that didn't pertain to him. He lifted the pick up, looking it around, the pure sheen of it looked ethereal. It glowed like it could reflect light, but it also was heavy to the touch, like it could ring a mean rift. He weighed it, hm . . . who'd leave this just laying around.

He looked back, mostly at his friend but also at the few others that sat around.

"Pssttt - there's some shit lying around here" he looked back down the hallway "any of you um, drop some stuff?"



 
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💀


"Urrgh... aaaaaa-!"

Hands massaging circles deep into his sockets, Dennis kept himself awake via the ever trustworthy method of quietly murmuring nonsensical noises to himself in the hopes it could somehow stave off any boredom-indued madness. Not that it was really doing much to help peel his palms back as he sat there - elbows to the table - lamenting having ever signed up for this course in the first place. Not that either of the others were any more accessible to him, given how much material was now locked behind a sterilized wiki page. He'd bought a second-hand laptop in preparation but to no ones surprised it took barely under a month for it to pack up on him and now sits on the corner of his desk as a drink coaster. As one hand finally fell to the keyboard the other slid upward, his fingers lacing between the thick strands of styled hair burnt an unnatural blond as he attempted once more to read up on this particular article without collapsing into a heap of sludge.

No good.

Even when trying his absolute hardest, there was just no possible way to concentrate. He tried clicking to the blank word document on the next tab only to be further disheartened by the sea of white and the little title out there sailing alone. Biting the inside of his lower lip to silence any quivering, he once more began to think that... well... maybe he was just destined to fail. These dark thoughts liked to rise their head every now and again, but for the last few days Dennis had barely been able to put a pen to paper without yanking out a good chunk of his fringe and letting his head hit the desk. Instinctually he couldn't help but glance to his side, seeking some small sense of comfort from his friend. Well, sort-of friend.
Maybe not anymore.

It was hard for him to tell, having never upset Morgo like this before. Normally being able to see someone else struggle was something Dennis liked to indulge in, given it helped to make him feel less alone in his stupidity. But then again, Morgo wasn't even here to study - he was just... well, Dennis wasn't sure. Wasn't sure of a lot of things, really. It had been hard to think straight since it all happened.

Eye shifting back to the screen with a sigh, he let his hand fall with scabbed fingers dragging down his cheek to expose the bright splash of red and purple bleeding out from a noticeable swelling.

★​

It was a quiet drag home.

From Dennis, at least.

As for Morgo, they hadn't taken much pause between the curses and insults being hurled until Dennis could vaguely tell them apart from the rush of cars passing them by. All the noises around him were blending together in a thrumming cacophony unaided by the flush pain in his face and ribs. Every so often, at an awkward step, Morgo's hand would grab at a tender spot and all he could do was wince and flash a glare before looking back down at the dirt like a scolded child. He couldn't argue, because there was nothing to argue about. He'd messed it all up. He knew he had. It didn't matter why he'd acted as he had, or even that he couldn't have possibly done anything to control how the brawl escalated, because tonight had meant to be his friends big moment and all that pride had turned vicious in a matter of seconds. Dennis had only meant to talk to the guy - really - but... ok, maybe he'd "talked" with a slightly harsher tone than he should have. Maybe. And if the first punch just so happened to come from him too well you should probably consider that the dick probably deserved it. Which they did. 100%. He could only express this in an irritated huff, however, not being as eloquent with his words as the poet beside him.

"I-"

It wasn't worth it, he was immediately silenced by another bark. He was too exhausted to bite back for now, simply swallowing his petty apology deep down to where it would never resurface. It was just too shameful - too dumb.

"I know what that means-"

Little more than a grumble. More so an effort at recognising the wrong as an ample first step. Still looking away, he licked the front of his teeth and spat a thick glob of saliva into the grass, tasting metal. Another unfortunate grab at his side came a little tighter than before and in usual Dennis fashion in this usual Dennis heat it was taken as a deliberate act of malice from Morgo, the hiss being followed by him yanking his arm back and trying to push his 'friend' away from him.

"You-! Get off!"

Screamed more so than suggested, his voice carried with it the spike of hatred threatening to tip him back over the edge. That's when the yelling started back and forth one drunken raver to another. Yet despite it all the last thing he wanted to do was get into an actual physical fight with Morgo, a pale shock overcoming his face as he was finally shoved back with enough genuine force to send him toppling back to trip over some solid lump that could have almost been strategically placed to catch him at that exact moment in time.

Morgo wouldn't remember what he said.

But Dennis would.

Almost as much as he'd remember staring back into those fly-bitten eyes.

★​

It was hard to get lost when you kept getting followed.

Not that he could blame Morgo. Everyone on campus was the same - seeking some small sense of normality from anywhere they could grasp at it. Even sitting together stewing in awkward silence felt better than sitting alone. It was hard enough being separated during the interrogations, considering Dennis was still somewhat drunk and would sooner die than start sobbing in front of a cop. He was a boy with big emotions. Big, ugly, life-ruining emotions.

"What?"

Short and nasty, as if Dennis had been sitting there just waiting for the opportunity to snap at Morgo. It wasn't unlikely.

But there came no answer, prompting Dennis to sit back slightly and survey the library for whatever it was that was so disturbing. Nothing seemed to catch his eye (even the bruised one), expect perhaps that the area seemed a lot more... empty. Not that he considered that unusual, considering he thought of libraries as somewhere designed to be abandoned as hurriedly as possible. Mid-sightsee he felt an abrupt bonk to the head, giving a sharp "OI" as his hand flew to rub at where the pencil had hit him. Other hand bracing the desk, he looked inches from skidding the chair back and flying up and out of there. It was as good an excuse as any seeing as he was beyond irritable.

See...what?

Dennis squinted.

Then, all of a sudden, opened his mouth in an ah of understanding.

"Ooooh, you mean this?"

The sarcasm pulling at his eyebrows already gave away what was waiting for Morgo as Dennis was quick to flip up a middle finger with an aggressive push of his lips, assuming that this was just a means to mess with him.

He tired to make a point of looking like he was focusing on his work, rewarded with a juice box dancing across his keyboard.

fdhgjlk

Better than anything he'd written so far.

Clenched fists shoved at the keyboard and he was up, knocking the chair over with a loud clunk as he excused himself;

"I'm done! I'm fucking done! I- Fuck it!"

He yelled more to the computer than anyone else, throwing his arms up into the air as if throwing said fucks like bundles of confetti. He might have continued his tantrum out the door if the sensation of nails brushing against the back of his neck hadn't sent a cold jolt down his spine, causing him to swirl back against the desk enough that he had to slam his hand against the keyboard to steady himself away from the invisible.. force? Person?

2hqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqq

Another excellent point.

It was only then that he realised there were other people actually studying nearby. Not only that, but they sounded as perplexed as he was. Hand fumbling to the back of his neck he dry swallowed and glanced between the two students with a somewhat more timid demeaner.

"There a- err... draft in here? Or summin'?"

Yeah, just a gust. Why should he even worry? Not in much of a laughing mood he just shook himself off and looked back toward Morgo, tching as he decided then and there to side with the two strangers.

"Huh?! It look like we lost anything to you?"

A sneer, his arms crossing as he shuffled closer to the girl in particular - some blond he vaguely recognised... possibly from one of his lectures?

"Gotta be just more of your shit"

They're best friends your honour I promise.

It was just that, right now, with his nose turned up in a huff, Dennis was too stroppy to let that show.




 
Phoenix Sin


Phoenix was hunched over their already mountain of work, scribbling at their tablet that they had for their studies. They sat at a table by themselves. Even though the college was loud, the walls echoing with rumors and hopes of answers, yet there were no verbal words of it. However, Phoenix knew that they wanted the truth. They could see it on their peers' faces. In the lecture halls, they could see students clearly bothered about their own safety at Alice Eventyr University. It broke their heart.

They remember vividly when they were just about to graduate, and they were looking at the university's webpage. How excited they were when they got the admissions letter. How anxious they were before they were leaving their home country for the first time. Getting on the plane before leaving, and saying goodbye to their parents. How worried they must be, even if the news had gotten to them. Phoenix was worried that they would be somehow convinced to leave this beautiful place, with all these beautiful people that walk it.

Their eyes narrowed, as they were getting off topic once again. They had biology homework, and they understood it fairly well, however it just took so long to do. They were given these packets every week, forcing them to read the textbook and take rigid notes. A notebook laid askew away from them, as they were distracted on the tablet. They didn't even know what they were doing, it was just a back and forth scribble on the notes app, which earned them a blot on the digital page that they were eventually going to have to undo. Phoenix sighed in frustration. How could they already be so demotivated? They stared at their maroon sleeves of the crewneck that donned the university's logo.

It was their third year, and they were almost done with their bachelor's in pre-med. Then, it was going to be about a decade more of schooling. However, nobody told them how it would be difficult for them to even start. They had the brain, it was just trying to get the hours of homework done that was the issue. Seriously, what was a professor going to do with a bunch of these papers? Shred them? That wasn't going to happen, as Phoenix was well aware that they got these back whenever the new week started, usually with an A plastered and some compliment about how their work was fantastic. The compliments felt like nothing more but something to take up space. Phoenix never felt good enough for these people.

With a sharp inhale, Phoenix sat themselves up and leaned against the back of their chair. They closed their eyes and took in some air. Maybe it was time for a break? The break would make this assignment take even longer. However, their mind was getting off track for the millionth time that day. It was odd. Ever since the discovery of the person they found, things were weird. However, Phoenix would argue that it was because everyone's safety was threatened. Of course things would feel odd. Maybe just with a couple more weeks, it would all go away. Like one of those fads that people would see online and think is the coolest thing in the world for a little while. They didn't know, they just wanted all these thoughts to go away.

Speaking of things that should go away, these bells that they were hearing have got to stop. They have been ringing the entire day, and Phoenix wondered if it was out of memory for the lost life. They understood that people wanted to pay their respects, but seriously how loud do these bells have to be in order for them to hear them in the library of all places?

Phoenix's eyebrows began to narrow out of frustration. Maybe that was what was keeping them off track this entire time? Hopefully these bells would be done by tomorrow. They crossed their arms as they tried to relax themselves. Tongue off of the roof of the mouth. They thought to themself. Shoulders away from the jaw. Breathe with the stomach.

However these bells have really-

"What is going on?"

Their eyes shot right open. The bells were cut off. It was silent, other than the buzzing of the light. Their chest tightened, and the hairs on the back of their neck stood up. Their hands clenched their biceps. They didn't move. The choir of bells that had been following them all day were just... gone?

They looked around, trying not to draw too much attention to themselves. There was a couple people sitting here, maybe a person sitting there. Wait, what? With another double take, they saw someone just disappear?


Okay, just calm down.


With another breath, they could quell their fear. Maybe Phoenix didn't eat enough today? However that wouldn't explain sudden hallucinations. Would it be a hallucination if it was just something out of the corner of their eye? Maybe they just perceived it incorrectly, like one of those optical illusions where you really have to think in order to get it to play right. The silence started to dig into their skin, it felt like. They were starting to get unnecessarily anxious. It was only the first part of the semester still, and they haven't pulled any all nighters. It wouldn't make sense for them to be sleep deprived right now.

After getting a couple glimpses of a blonde girl, who had thankfully broken the noise that rang within their ears, and a pair of friends who were getting frustrated with their work (Phoenix could sympathize), they couldn't really think of what could've happened.

They were aware of the radio show Twilight Door. They ran into it a couple times on the radio, and even heard a couple students talking about it. To be fair, they couldn't talk about the incident, not the channel. Plus, Phoenix wasn't always in the know, so they had to listen to the bathroom conversations whenever they had to leave class for a moment.

Now that they thought of it, they were in the back of the library. If they remembered correctly, there was something about a black book. Phoenix knew they shouldn't go looking for trouble, however they just wanted to see if it was real. If there actually was a black book in the back of the library for people to put tapes in. Though, with the amount of people in the room as was, they were definitely not going to look for it right then.

With a sigh, they placed an elbow on the table in front of them and leaned their head into their hand. They looked blankly at their work. It seems like everyone was experiencing it too. Especially with the person with the rather stunning makeup and their friend getting angry at an assignment. It felt odd. While this would've been perfectly fine last year, there was just something off. The homey vibe of the library was now a cold, unwelcome place despite the lights never changing.

That woman was right.

What the hell is going on?
 
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Welcome Home
What… what have I gotten myself into? Is this how students in a university escape their mundane, busy lives by making their own secret society?
Thoughts rummaged through her mind after reading the Rabbit Hole News track, which she found on the floor of her half empty dorm room when. Someone must have pushed it through the door or maybe someone dropped it on their way out before she moved in. Whatever the case, she already had some research to do in the library for all three of her classes. A deadline already marked on the calendar and made a point to mark it physically on her calendar wall, so it it would always be at the forefront of her mind.
Staring at the emptiness across from her chosen bed, Aurora wondered if anyone else would come and claim it as their own. What an unwelcome thought, perhaps her dad had something to do with this. Carefully packing her mini laptop into her backpack and shoving the track into its front zipper pocket, she headed for the library.
As she headed toward the house of books, her mind drifted to the scene of the deceased found in the football field.
Sure the story was true, as little as the reporter gave, the whole thing seemed… off. The way the story was given was rushed. Why? Did someone want it covered up?
She remembers that night. It was darker than usual, but she had chalked it up to the coming rain. She couldn't tell if the student was male or female since the street lights weren't on. Just a strange shadow-like person running here and there, like they were lost before making a bee-line for the football field. She thought they found where they were going and continued on her way.

What happened to you and why did you die?

The Library
Entering the library, the doors made a loud creaking noise which echoed to the second floor. Alerting everyone in the quiet space of her presence. How excruciatingly embarrassing! Before she could do anything the door slowly and painfully shut itself with the same loud, whiny-whimper.
Oh God, this is now how I wanted to begin University!
A red-faced Aurora just stood there, not knowing what to do for the moment. She felt so many eyes burrowing into her.
 
Serefina Fae Russo

Age:
22
Pronouns:
They/Them
Outfit:
Everyday

Alice Eventyr Univeristy was the place where Fae had spent the last three nearly four years of their life. And over the last couple of days, the campus took on a down and melancholy air. Fae even noted that the local wildlife seemed to also be affected by the atmosphere of the university. They didn't like the wildlife being as subdued as they currently were. A shudder always made a way down their spine when they left their dorm, especially the last few days.

The dizzying headache could not stop them from gathering their things to head to the library for a study session that they desperately needed away from their dorm room. Whispers seemed to be louder and louder than what she remembered and what could even be physically possible. They seemed to nag and pull at her subconscious almost making the headache she was experiencing even worse than ever before. Nausea bubbled up from their stomach and caused a small groan to leave them as they attempted to hurry themself along to the library.

Fae just needed peace and quiet and that solace hopefully could be found in the school library. 'Quiet, I just need quiet and this headache will go away.' These were the thoughts that they practically chanted in their head as they opened the library doors. However, the solace they sought seemed to be further away than what they had initially hoped as the whispers seemed to reach a cacophony within the walls of the library. "Fuck." they whispered under their breath as they blindly sought out a table to sit at as the dizziness reached a peak and their head hit the table in front of them attempting to appease the sickness they seemed to feel at the present moment that was secondary to the whispers that seemed to circle them.

Just as suddenly as the abrasive whispers had started they stopped abruptly as did Fae's headache. The dizziness and nausea were also gone as if they never existed in the first place. Fae looked up and looked around seeing the others in the library with them. How long had they been in the library to not have noticed the others now gathering… was that the reason the sounds had suddenly stopped? They looked at all the others around them, everyone seemed so different and peaceful. The appearance of the rest of them seemed to make things easier for Fae to breathe and function now.
 
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Aurora Warden

Aurora heaved a sigh of relief. No one seemed disturbed by her entering the library with the door's audible protest. Scanning the main floor, she saw five others sitting at the tables. A blonde haired girl sitting by her lonesome seemingly lost in a project. A brunette boy with glasses trying to get the attention of the blonde, or that is how Aurora perceived. Two older guys poking fun at one another… or was it fun rough-housing, such as it was way of boys? Another one at their own table wore an anxious look on their face.
Another one came through the door of the library, and not a creak to be heard. This made Aurora's eyes furrow a bit.
How unfair.
Although this one seemed rather in pain, holding their head as they walked past Aurora without noticing her there, slowly sat at a nearby table and bonking their head on said table before seemingly at ease, suddenly.
What a peculiar bunch.

With a change of pace and embarrassment forgotten, Aurora came forward and introduced herself.
With a slight hesitation and "ahem" she introduced herself. "Umm, hello. My name is Aurora Warden, a first year student." Fumbling through her backpack she pulled out a track. "Did you guys happen to receive this as well, or is this some kind of first year hazing?"

She didn't really want to believe in the events but it was all over the news, however hushed up it was.
 
💀


Tch

What's so interesting about some piece of junk on the floor? Brows sewn together, Dennis glared toward the hall Morgo had disappeared down as though he were actually opposing such a keen eye for seemingly unwanted treasures. Usually a magpie of the mundane. it was odd that he had all of a sudden come to ridicule that very same trait from his friend. Surely - definitely - this was just a fleeting character in their most recent drama. Even now, mere moments after his last comment, Dennis was already beginning to slump and ease back into his usual loose self. It helped that Morgo was distracted, giving him the freedom to relax into what was clearly a cooled off sullen posture in comparison to the brazen temper intended to burn.

Thumb moving to his teeth he nibbled at the frayed skin around a nail painted black with bumpy globs of polish. He continued to chew as he leaned back against one of the computer desks, finding himself too tall to be comfortable and instead transitioning to an awkward half-sit half-lean instead with one leg up for his arm to rest against. It was then that he finally took to eyeing up the rest of the group gathered in this small section of the library. Why? Who cares. Not enough for this particular punk to question it anymore than he had to. He was only interested in the view;

Some darker-haired guy with glasses stood harmlessly to the side. Well, to the untrained eye at least. Dennis couldn't help the wat his nose flared and his head tilted, squinting lightly as if it would help him to get a closer look at that shirt without him literally walking up and snatching it between his fingers. From what he could tell, that was no thrift store rescue. Clean, tidy. With a huff he moved on.

A blonde girl that sparked his brain with a fierce sense of recollection. He'd seen her before somewhere... those moles were as unique as a fingerprint in the sea of faces Dennis sailed past every day. He remembered assuming they'd always been fake since he'd only ever seen her from afar in the- lecture hall! They shared a class, that was it! Mouth falling open in a silent 'oooh' he nodded lightly to himself for finally piecing it together. For that, he felt the most comfortable in answering her question;

"Err literally anywhere else? It's a library."

Letting his head slump like a puppet on a loose string he couldn't help the way he rolled his eyes. Not that they went too long without skipping to the next student.

Another guy, heavy chains and a decent set of rings that Dennis appreciated with a light upward flick of the brows. Unlike the rest of them, this guy seemed to be able to actually focus on the chunk of papers in front of him, leading Dennis to pay him less attention. They seemed like they didn't want to get involved in a group discussion right now and Dennis wasn't feeling cruel enough to get up and start jeering some random dude this early into the day. Especially not while he was still nursing a darkening bulge of a black eye.

At that point someone new had stumbled in to join them, fumbling their way to the table with a far-off distant look in their eyes that clearly had them missing the gathering witnesses to what he assumed was one hell of a hangover. He had to applaud the effort to at least attempt to study and assumed their dorm was probably far too loud or densely packed to nurse that kind of dense head fog. Luckily for him, Morgo was great at ensuring the majority of the room was pitch black and dreary. The lights were always on low, if not for the 'aesthetic' but for the comfort of the little eyes of the spikey gangsters taking refuge with them.

The last person was another in finer fabrics, sending another huff shooting from Dennis. He tried not to be too judgemental but it was just... difficult to get along with certain people of a certain financial position a certain few thousand leagues above him, y'know? Especially when you end up being regarded with a similar sort of expression one makes when they see a two-headed rat dragging itself out of the toilet to try and walk upright into society.

But he digresses.

This girl, at least, seemed to take the first step to this being an actual conversation instead of a portrait for him to pick apart. He smiled slightly at the short 'ahem' amused by the mannerism and mere sound of her voice. It got his attention though, didn't it?

And at the sight of the tape that growing smirk hit the floor.

Immediately he went on the defensive, standing up from his seat on the desk while glancing to Morgo in frequent please for some kind of guidance on what to do. He was mouthing something - some start to a sentence that he couldn't yet put together. What should he do? Lie about it? Was this some kind of trick to catch him out?

That's it.

It was a trick.

Temperatures rose. His back straightened. Fingers flexed.

"Yeah? What's it to you, Aurora."

He sounded out the name mockingly, not yet approaching but more-so eyeing the tape as if he wanted to smash it to pieces which- well it was exactly what he wanted to do. There was a tenseness in his muscles as he stared it down, having probably already done something similarly destructive to his own tape...


"Where'd you get it? Huh?! Someone give'it you?"

At least he'd quickly dismissed his own uncertainty to her own involvement, now glancing between the tape and her expression with what could almost be bubbling regret for the tone he'd stuck himself with. Too proud to back off he'd just have to play it off, stepping closer and leaning over just enough to cast a shadow.

"You...."

Lips pressed together, nose twitching, eyes.... watering. He move a rough scratch against his face with his finger, trying to style it out with a tough guy snort (if that's even a thing).

"Did you... know em?"

Softer. Cautious. She's not at fault here even he could tell. Dennis was just... scared. Didn't want to talk about the things he'd seen and certainly not to a stranger on their shit podcast. But he wasn't some unfeeling dick, was he? Backing up a little to give back some of that invaded space he swallowed awkwardly, glancing between the others before refocusing on the g- Aurora.





 
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The evening air had grown relatively brisk in the late summer; a fact made all the more clear by the fact that Sam had neglected to bring his hoodie with him when he set off across campus back to his dorm. If he had to take a stab at it, he probably left it lying somewhere in the parking lot. Such was a mistake often made by those succumbed to inebriation. "Fuck!" he retorted, turning back towards the stadium. "I should really go back; it's colder than I thought it'd be."
"Can't it wait until morning, man?" his friend asked lazily.
"No no." Sam shook his head. "Someone might snag it overnight. Ju-just go on without me... I'l catch up. I promise."
Through glazed, bloodshot eyes, he saw his friend shrug. "Alright then. See you back in the dorms."
Sam watched in a stupor as his buddy walked off towards the residential section of campus, vanishing into distance and darkness.
Certain that he was now alone, Sam turned on his heels and walked back towards the football stadium, stumbling, stuttering, and loafing on as he went about. 'You're such a lightweight,' his friends would always tell him. They weren't wrong, of course. Sam rarely indluged in the common vices of the university student. This night, however, mere days before the start of what would be his final year, was one of those scant ocassions upon which he 'turned up.' The substances of use had been varied at the "tailgate" he and his classmates had just concluded. Alcohol had been in highest abunance, being so easily accessible; Sam had had more than his fair share of the hard liquor; so infrequently as he did partake in the intoxication, he was like to make up for it by going as hard as he could, which usually ended with him being blasted harder than his more seaworthy peers.
This night in particular though, Sam had kicked it up one step further: following the steady stream of rum and whiskey, his drunken self had decided to fumigate with three massive rips from his roomate's bong. The alcohol and cannabis crossed paths, and drunkenness and highness peaked just as he set is way backtracking to snag his hoodie. The walk was long and slow. Not only were his steps reminscent of the Scarecrow from Wizard of Oz, but his mind was in a thick fog of thought that gave pause to his every move.
Without even realizing it, he found himself back in the Stadium parking lot. Eerily, the stadium lights were all still on, piercing the otherwise black curtain of the night. It was as though the stadium itself were a sanctuary in a foreboding landscape. "Ah!" he spotted the grey pullover, clumped upon the asphalt, evidence of a tire mark upon it, but otherwise undisturbed. He leaned down... rather dropped like a stone... and gathered the garment, slipping it on over his t-shirt. "That's better." He never thought he'd say that about a warm sweater in August, but here he was.
He gazed upward as though he were looking at the sky for the first time; it was overcast, not a star sight, nor a moon to illuminate the univeristy with its natural glow.
Despite having gotten what he had said he'd come for, Sam didn't move. Instead, he pulled out his phone, and scrolled to a text he had gotten a few hours earlier. "I'll be over by the stadium later," it read. It was a message from another friend of his. He had hoped to have seen them at the party earlier, but they must have gotten tied up with something else, saying they'd meet up afterwards. Sam wasn't too concerned by the isolated nature of the meeting; this friend wasn't as well acquainted with the ones he had just been with, so hanging out just the two of them made enough sense.
To be clear, he hadn't left his hoddie behind on purpose. However, it DID give him a valid excuse to return to the parking lot to meet his other friend wihtout it seeming like he was just bailing on the party. Witty and intelligent as he was, saying he had planned this stint out was giving him too much credit.
He waited for what felt like hours, though it likely only seemed that way because of the crossfading. As the minutes passed, he saw no sign of anyone, much less his friend, emerging from the darkness.
As a cold wind kicked up, cutting even through his hoodie, a strange sense of dread engulfed him. His chest pounded like the marching band's' largest bass drum. His hairs prickled up in a static surge. Sam peered into the dark of the night... somehow it seemed to have gotten even darker than before. Sweating, he bolted towards the stadium, hoping that the lights would at least give him some peace of mind. If he was still feeling off about the situation, he could just call one of his friends at the party... or better yet, snag an Uber or Lyft, since his entourage would be too fucked up to ride a bike, let alone a car.
But as he inched closer to the field, the sense of security that he had hoped for slipped quickly from his heart. The gates into the stadium were suspicously open; maybe it was just the football team up to some hijinx. Yeah. That's all it was. They were party animals as much as anyone lese on campus, and they probably picked the keys off of maintenance, or the athletic director. Sam had to validate it one way or another.
Yet the sight of the field was something that no mental gymnastics could justify or make sense of. There, laying on the fifty yard line, square in the center of the University's logo, was a lumped, limp... human body.


The temperature in the library spiked. The air thickened and grew unbearably heavy. What WAS going on? Whatever the commotion had been, it had attracted at least a half-dozen others to the same corner of the building. Three of them caught Sam's immediate attention, however.​
One was a dark clad, dare he say "goth" type. Paled skin... probably makeup, black eyeliner, and similarly shaded attire, though it was, to Sam's eyes, quite elegant in its own style, even if not one that he'd personally adorn himself in. For a flaring second, he reacted to the sight of this person, but rebounded quickly. It wasn't frequent that he witnessed that aesthetic on campus, but he had seen it enough that it was, while curious, not out of sorts; Sam's high-school self definitely wouldn't have felt the same way.​
The other, who seemed to have entered with the goth, was more wild looking. His hair, visibily blonde, bore at least a hint of prior colors to the point that determining what his natural hue was would have been nearly impossible. His ensemble was just as... colorful. No single discernable method, only pure madness. The guy seriously looked like he had gone on a shopping spree hitting up every thrift store, piercing hut, and maybe a Hot Topic to piece together what Sam could only see as a costume rather than a simple outfit. The guy seemed agitated, his expression matching the unpredictability of his attire. Sam edged away as he moved, worrying the consequences of standing in the way.​
"Hot Topic" approached a third person: a timid looking blonde girl who, by her body language and the look upon her face, had only just arrived on the scene. She had been the first to break what had grown into a tense silence. Sam locked onto her when she pulled the tape from her bag; she had gotten a track too. He moved towards her, but stopped, as the blonde guy moved more quickly than he did. Sam clenched himself tight as "Thirft Store" interrogated Aurora. He moved closer to the pair, prepared to at least try to deal with the guy if his assertiveness gave way to aggression.​
Fortunately, the tension broke, and the conversation deesacalted quickly and smoothly. Sam's heart would skip a beat when the blonde guy brought up the deceased student. He felt a sharp pain through his chest when the words reached the air: "Did you... Know him?"
Sam looked at the wildly dressed guy. "I..." he started, and then quickly shifted his attention to Aurora. He dug into his own bag and pulled out a similar tape to the one she held in her hand, holding it out plainly for her to see. "I got one too," he said reassuringly. "I don't think it's any kind of hazing. If it is, it's targeting randomly though, seeing as I'm not a first year."
 
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After Aurora's short and socially brave introduction, one of the bunch seemed to be offended. Was is her appearance?
She tried so hard to blend in to this side of society. Sweeping her eyes along everyone, she could clearly see her error. Her hair was all wrong, too tidy. Her posture strengthened from years of training in singing lessons rather than slouching, or extremely laid back. The clothes she wore were more suited for high end group tutoring rather than public university, filled with causal attire. What she decided on was casual on her side of the world. She became painfully aware of her appearance and not 'fitting in'.

Well, so much for that…

A blonde haired guy slightly smiled at her semi-confident intro, but short lived when he spotted the track in her hand. His sudden shift from a slumped-seated position to fully standing made her heart skip a beat. He was very tall. She didn't dare move, as if she might stir something more she'd regret.
She swore she saw a fire in his eyes as he glanced from her, the track and another student in… Emo dress? She didn't keep up with all the expressions due to her father's schedule, keeping her busy. Or shut-in from society.
But there was something else in this spiky-blonde's eyes. It was like he was … afraid? She wasn't completely sure. He came closer and the light behind him cast a shadow over his face. Fire, blazing. His voice seemed low and gravelly, like he was growling at her in a muffled tone as he spoke to her.
Heart pounding, every fiber of her being screamed at her to move. Run! Her hands balled into fists as if ready for a fight she knew she couldn't win. Although, her fists helped keep her ground as she kept her eyes on him. A stoic gaze focused into his glancing ones.

But then he did something strange with his face, with a scratch. Seems to her he gets into fights a lot. This thing he did with a snort, she guessed it was supposed to look "macho" or "tough", but it made her want to laugh. Her fists began to relax. She swallowed blurting out in joyful fits, but her lips slightly quivered between keeping a straight face and laughing out loud. She didn't want to amp him up more than he already was.
Thankfully, the tall, dark tower backed away from her and the dim light cast revealed his face again. His eyes danced around the room, seemingly to forget where he was momentarily before meeting her own once more.

"I…"
A voice cut through the thick and tense atmosphere like a knife, catching Aurora's attention.
Another tall guy with glasses stood by the group, just a little ways away. His eyes seemed distant for a second as he regarded Blonde Spikes' question to Aurora before turning his attention her way. He answered her question with deductive reasoning. It made sense and yet it didn't all at once.
Why would this be random? Did the students here really not have enough to do?

She snapped out of her thoughts when the he pulled out a track from his backpack.
"That sounds logical… sort of." Raising an eyebrow, she realized she spoke out loud. "I mean you are logical, but not those handing out the tracks. Unless it's purely for interviews in hopes to land 'The Story'?"

Turning her attention back to Blonde Spikes, she answered his question… carefully.
"… I saw someone, that night. But I don't know who it was. Did you?" Looking down at his hands, seemingly scuffed up from probably a recent fight. Meeting his eyes, she asked. "Do you have a track as well?"




The lights in the library flickered and Aurora could hear something faint in the distance. It was light, soft and … melodic?
Shaking her head, willing it away. She is not about to start hearing things that aren't there. She also couldn't deny the events that have gone on in this University and the urgency of them being connected.
 
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Serefina Fae Russo

Age:
22
Pronouns:
They/Them
Outfit:
Everyday

Fae looked up from their spot in the library at the well-put-together blonde. She seemed to be wholly out of place within the campus, they were so used to the mess that most people were at the campus, well other than the first years. Fae pushed their unruly red curls behind their shoulder as they then looked around the room taking in all the people they didn't seem to notice before. Subconsciously they groaned, more out of frustration of having people around as they just got relief from the massive migraine.

As the girl pulled out a track tape, Fae's body froze because they remembered when one of them had appeared on their desk in their dorm room. They rolled her neck getting all the pops out of it as they reached into her messenger bag and pulled out an 8-track-looking tape very similar to the other girl's. "Look I don't know where this came from, but the gods help me if it is some weird stupid prank." They stood up as they spoke their tape still in their fingers. "Chill pill dude." They snapped at Dennis a bit harshly but he was being a bit too aggressive to the poor first year. Fae approached Aurora with their track, "Name's Serefina Russo, most people just call me Fae though. It's nice to meet you." They offered their hand to Aurora in a handshake. After introducing themselves they turned to the next person who spoke, the guy with glasses.

"Seems logical I suppose but the whole timing is odd of it. I mean I am not a first year either and I received one as well." They crossed their arms over their chest, their tape still visible. Though they didn't really blame Dennis for destroying his, it was kinda strange to have it just show up. Though they, themselves didn't have the guts to play it or destroy it. For some reason, it did not feel right to do anything to it. "I didn't listen to mine, didn't seem right for some reason." Fae offered up with a shrug. "I saw someone in passing while trying to get back to my dorm that night." Their words were soft as they spoke unsure of how they sounded to the others.

Fae's whole body tensed up as they seen the lights flickering in the library, a soft sigh leaving their lips. The soft hum, that was the undertoned in the voices that were swirling around in their head earlier before everything had silenced themselves, was now back and it was still as softand melidious as it was before. 'Nope, going crazy at this point.' they thought to themselves trying to will the hum away, but it didn't seem to want to really go away though.
 
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