CHAPTER ONE - MAY THE DARKNESS BIND THEM
- SCENE ONE - WHAT LIES AHEAD & WHY YOU'VE BEEN CHOSEN
- SCENE TWO
- SCENE THREE
Last edited:
-
So many newbies lately! Here is a very important PSA about one of our most vital content policies! Read it even if you are an ancient member!
- Status
CHAPTER ONE - MAY THE DARKNESS BIND THEM
- Writing Levels
- Adept
- Advanced
- Preferred Character Gender
- No Preferences
And with this new threat on the rise, she kind of hoped they would be a bit more brazen. The Red Serpent was so off the grid it was annoyingly difficult to follow. As she sat before her news program bounding off about important no-maj political affairs, she made a phone call or two to a couple of colleagues to check up on leads. Her coffee table had begun the night clean, but found itself eventually littered with case files and a tall mug of coffee set upon the edge. They were all cold cases, and some had been so for years. With everything Ava did, she felt compelled to figure it out; to complete it and bring it all to a close. Had she not had this drive in her she likely would have easily skipped out of the Silver Heart Circle.
Ava's fingers curled around the locket given to her at the meeting, and she flipped to her texts with the other hand. Torin Velle had checked out. She scrolled up the text to see the photograph given to her by her colleague that matched the appearance of the woman that spoke to her. Even voice recognition matched to rule out polyjuice. At times she hated her curiosity. It was what brought her into the family business, and it was what drove her to become an Auror.
And yet as the news ran on about the struggles of the no-maj world she wondered yet again how much of her life was just one big coping mechanism. It could all be linked back to the incident she was supposed to completely forget. She made one final phone call that night, but all the line did was ring.
I exist. I'm a witch.
The third meeting with the Silver Heart Circle took place at their expansive headquarters in a room far too big for those gathered. Ava stood in the rotunda with the others, fingers grasping her mobile to feel a sense of comfort in continuity. The phone existed, and the magic existed. And the wolf. And the serpent. And the lies.
She slipped the phone out of her pocket to check the time. Or perhaps it was more to check to see if there was a missed call or unread text message. The time displayed in its stark grandeur, alone in the void of the touch screen expanse. It didn't feel fair after all these years. She felt abandoned within the lack of correspondence. As the screen blackened after a time of stagnation, she clicked the button once again to check the screen. The time still displayed the same numbers as before.
Ava snapped her attention back to the trio that emerged. They were being given a test via a game of capture the flag. Her brow furrowed slightly, and she glanced to the others around her. It seemed a bit juvenile, but with magic involved she surmised the game was just a means of assessment in a controlled environment. She understood that value and already began plotting her course without having even been introduced to the playing field.
- Posting Speed
- Multiple posts per day
- Online Availability
- 8:00 AM - 4:00 PM
- Writing Levels
- Prestige
- Preferred Character Gender
- Male
- Primarily Prefer Female
- Genres
- Political intrigue, fantasy, futuristic, sci fi lite, superheroes, historical fiction, alternate universes. Smittings of romance, but only as side plot.
SHC Headquarters
Following the initial meeting in New York, and after one too many tiny bottles of bourbon at her hotel room, Frankie had called her father. It wasn't the type of conversation she'd ever expected to have, but it was one, perhaps more importantly, that she needed to have. Her father had been the one, after all, who had introduced her to Jim... and while he would never win father of the year, it had been an attempt, at least, to help her cope through a difficult time. The question on her mind, and perhaps one she might never have had the courage to ask, were she sober, was whether or not he'd known what Jim was when he had sent her to the training gym.
The answer had been... less answer, more avoidance, but it left little doubt in her mind. After hanging up, hinged on the promise to visit in a few weeks, Frankie crawled into bed and woke the following morning with a killer hang over, and a purpose she had never expected.
Some time later, she found herself in St. Louis, which as far as she was concerned was as close to Boston as a toe to a jaguar. The headquarters was swanky, a little fancy for her taste, but there were worse places, she figured, to hold a secret meeting. She was pleased upon arrival to see a few familiar faces - and as they were greeted once more by Torrin (whom Frankie found significantly less disdain for, now that they were on the same side), she took a lean against one of the rotunda pillars. They were joined following Torrin's greeting by the second member of Jim's funeral pilfering and Frankie straightened up as he addressed them, a brow quirked at his words.
A test.
She'd been pretty sure it wasn't as easy as introductions over toast points and tea. Still, not what she'd expected. But then what over the past few weeks had been? It was little matter to Frankie... She was, if nothing, competitive at heart, and whether it was a match in the ring or a game of Go Fish, she made it a point to win.
"Well... This'll be fun."
@rissa, @allyall
- Posting Speed
- 1-3 posts per week
- One post per week
- Slow As Molasses
- Writing Levels
- Adept
- Advanced
- Prestige
- Preferred Character Gender
- Male
- Female
- Primarily Prefer Male
- Genres
- Fantasy, SciFi, Modern, Magical
Jay Lee
~SHC Headquarters~
~SHC Headquarters~
Jay fairly jumped at the small voice beside him. He turned his head to look. Standing next to him was a young woman of about his own age, whose large brown eyes seemed to examine him curiously. His foot shifted away, distinctly uneasy about her close proximity. But no; he wasn't about to show weakness in front of these people, Majs of distinctly more skill than he.
"I'm not," the young man scoffed, unsure of whether to be friendly or standoffish. "I mean, capture the flag? It's a kids' game."
It nagged at him; what kind of person just sidles up to someone and starts a conversation like that? What was her angle? What did she want to learn about him? Who even the hell was she? He cleared his throat.
"I mean," he muttered, glancing at Shadow with some small hesitation, "Let's go hunt down some bad Majs already. We're wasting time."
@CloudyBlueDay @rissa
Last edited:
- Posting Speed
- 1-3 posts per week
- Online Availability
- 3PM CST - 9 PM CST
- Writing Levels
- Intermediate
- Adept
- Advanced
- Adaptable
- Preferred Character Gender
- Male
- Female
- No Preferences
- Genres
- Fantasy, Scifi, Urban Fantasy, Horror
[bg=black] JONATHON RIES
Jon had gone back to his hotel room, slightly buzzed and slightly anxious, the night that they had convened around a table and bounced back and forth the pros and cons of being in a supposedly secret society bent on protecting both Maj and No-Maj alike. While he'd made up his mind about the whole thing, he still had to suss things out with the missus, and while slightly tipsy, he'd called her at 1 in the morning -- which was more like 3 AM, in Nebraska.
Painstakingly, he explained what he had hoped to do, and the answer from the other end was a tired, resigned, somewhat disappointed, "Alright." To be honest, it pained him a little to know that his wife was less than happy with his sudden decision to join this group of clandestine crime fighters, but what else was he going to do? He had all but given up on any kind of pursuit for almost four years. He had for all intents and purposes stalled out. This was the only kind of momentum he'd managed to drum up since his mother's passing, and they both knew it.
They both didn't want it to die, for Jon to sequester himself back in his greenhouse to tend to his mandrakes.
And so, he found himself later at a wide open manor with the people he'd met two days before, fidgeting a bit as he waited. Torin was there, from the orientation, but there were a few others he wasn't really familiar with -- a Native man and the young man next to him, who seemed to be a part of this whole shindig already. Rhassa, the Native man, explained that they would be doing a game, just to see how they would react, and Jon's immediate gut reaction was to cringe. He'd always been god awful at tests. Perhaps it was the time limit -- maybe it was just knowing he had to compete with others -- or maybe it was just the fact it was a test -- whatever the case, he just didn't take tests very well, and this was a physical game of capture the flag. To be honest, that wasn't really his forte, given his spellwork revolved around herbology.
"Oh brother," Jon hummed, hoping that someone -- Ava, Frankie, Nico, anyone but him -- competent would be picked as a team leader.
[/bg]
Jon had gone back to his hotel room, slightly buzzed and slightly anxious, the night that they had convened around a table and bounced back and forth the pros and cons of being in a supposedly secret society bent on protecting both Maj and No-Maj alike. While he'd made up his mind about the whole thing, he still had to suss things out with the missus, and while slightly tipsy, he'd called her at 1 in the morning -- which was more like 3 AM, in Nebraska.
Painstakingly, he explained what he had hoped to do, and the answer from the other end was a tired, resigned, somewhat disappointed, "Alright." To be honest, it pained him a little to know that his wife was less than happy with his sudden decision to join this group of clandestine crime fighters, but what else was he going to do? He had all but given up on any kind of pursuit for almost four years. He had for all intents and purposes stalled out. This was the only kind of momentum he'd managed to drum up since his mother's passing, and they both knew it.
They both didn't want it to die, for Jon to sequester himself back in his greenhouse to tend to his mandrakes.
And so, he found himself later at a wide open manor with the people he'd met two days before, fidgeting a bit as he waited. Torin was there, from the orientation, but there were a few others he wasn't really familiar with -- a Native man and the young man next to him, who seemed to be a part of this whole shindig already. Rhassa, the Native man, explained that they would be doing a game, just to see how they would react, and Jon's immediate gut reaction was to cringe. He'd always been god awful at tests. Perhaps it was the time limit -- maybe it was just knowing he had to compete with others -- or maybe it was just the fact it was a test -- whatever the case, he just didn't take tests very well, and this was a physical game of capture the flag. To be honest, that wasn't really his forte, given his spellwork revolved around herbology.
"Oh brother," Jon hummed, hoping that someone -- Ava, Frankie, Nico, anyone but him -- competent would be picked as a team leader.
[/bg]
- Status