JJ Doe

Emergence

October 15, five minutes before midnight, Beauregard and Sophie were walking through a labyrinth made of books and bookshelves. The old library was dark and, at first glance, unoccupied. Something about the place felt as if it was abandoned many years ago, maybe it was the eerie silence, or how the moon and stars were the only source of light, or the lack of anything modern. Yet, all the books and Victorian antique furniture, the siblings occasionally passed by, looked much too clean and new. Someone must have loved this place: if everything in the library was new, they spent a lot of money to replicate the antiques; if everything was as old as it was assumed to be, someone had been taking good care of the place. Or possibly even time itself abandoned the library, never allowing anything in this place to deteriorate.

The red head finally stopped at a crossroad to turn at her brother. “I’ll be watching from the gallery. Call me if you need me.” She didn’t need to remind Beauregard where the non-representatives were at during the family meetings, but he smiled and nodded appreciatively. Sophie nodded back and turned to walk down one hallway. Beauregard watched his sister vanish into the shadows of the bookshelves, before walking down another hallway.

The path which Beauregard walked looked no different from the other hallways of the library and it remained as such for awhile. Slowly things began to change. With each step he took, the darkness lifted. The silver light was replaced with a brighter, warmer color of light. The covers of each book became more vibrant. Every dark wood transformed into white marble. Then, something impossible floated casually passed Beauregard: symbols. Everywhere, symbols, letters, numbers, and images in general roamed freely in the air, constantly moving and ever changing. Whenever a symbol merged into one another, they engendered something, only for it to disappear when the symbols drift apart. The more symbols that collided into one another, the more complex the “something” became. At one point, Beauregard witnessed a pod of miniature lime green whales singing the “Habanera” while performing synchronized swimming. That was until they collided into a group of other symbols and the pod of singing miniature lime green whales turned into a polar bear in a lime green T-shirt ballet dancing with a habanero chili shaped like a whale. For those who had no idea what this place was, they would have thought they had gone completely mad. For the Flamels, it was a sight they were forced to see at least once a month; nothing fazed them in this library.

Beauregard reached the end of the hallway and walked into a large open space. His destination. The place where the Flamel family meetings took place looked nothing like the dark and gloomy Victorian library Beauregard was just in some moments ago. Ignoring the hallways that lead to the room, the open space was circular with books and bookshelves covering all the walls. The white marble floorings were so polished it reflected everything like a mirror. The bookshelves made out of the same material as the floor was equally as polished and was so tall no one knew where it ended. Around the area which the ceiling should have been, a giant golden clock floated, emitting a warm golden light that was bright enough to illuminate the whole space. Right below the clock was a gold round table with a black orb imbedded in the center of it. The table was surrounded by twelve seats that were incongruous from each other and the design of the room. From how the seats ranged from a simple wooden dining chair to an exercise ball chair, it was obvious each seat was placed specifically for the individual who would sit on it. The only other place to sit was at a raised desk, which resembled a courtroom’s bench, made of emerald with cryptic golden writings on it.

Eleven of the twelve seats at the round table were occupied by colorful individuals. The eleven representatives were diverse in ethnicity, gender, age, overall appearance, and, most likely, personality. If there was something they had all in common, it was that they were witches. The witches of the Flamel family. Some talked amongst themselves while others silently entertained themselves with an activity. Beauregard was not acknowledged until he was half way across the room. “You’re late,” announced the oldest looking man. Beauregard looked up at the large clock in the sky. “No I’m not. I got here before midnight.” Beauregard found his comfortable leather armchair one seat away from the old man. The old man sighed as he watched Beauregard sit down. “You should have been here ten minutes before midnight.”

“Even Ojise got here before you,” an Asian woman wearing a summer dress added. Beauregard looked over to the Jamaican smoking something he wasn’t sure was legal. As soon as Beauregard visually confirmed his dark skinned kin, he heard someone mumbling. He turned to the pale not-undead man with jet black hair and eyes sitting next to him. Beauregard leaned toward the younger man in attempt to catch what few words that pasted the man’s lips. Most of the words were, unfortunately, blocked by the constant nail chewing. “You’ll have to speak up Evan.” Evan pulled his thumb away from his mouth and whispered in a voice barely audible. “We told him the meeting was two hours ago.”
“And when did he get here?”
“Fifteen minutes ago.”
“Ah.”

When he looked away from Evan, Beauregard met eyes with a businessman sitting across the table. The man was wearing glasses and a disheveled suit. His hair looked whiter than Beauregard remembered and, more importantly, there were obvious bald patches. He shouldn’t have asked, but he had to. “Did you age thirty years since this morning?” The man with the eyeglasses gave Beauregard a particularly nasty look. “I might as well have. I’m not sure if you heard about this, but SOMEONE didn’t show up for a meeting today and---...” Beauregard interrupted. “Wait! I know this story. The punch line is golden d***o.” As soon as the businessman stood up to scream his lungs out, the space in the air shifted: symbols started to gather around and create a golden object. With the velocity of the fastest pitch in recorded history, the object hit Beauregard across his face. He had completely forgotten Sophie was “here” with the other invisible spectators. “THIS is exactly why no man wants to be with you Sophie! You abusive---…”

The loud ringing of bells notified everyone in the library that the clock struck twelve. The bells beckoned nearby symbols to gather to the center of the golden table. The black orb at the center detached itself from the table and began to hover in the air, sucking all the symbols like a black hole. When the orb consumed the last symbol, a small galaxy was born within it.

At the same time, everyone at the round table stood up when the sound of footsteps and a wheelchair echoed through the library. They continued to stand at attention as a tall man covered in tattoos in a black suit pushed a wheelchair with an old woman sitting on it. The old woman, Estelle, wore a white dress that looked as ancient as the wearer. The tattooed man, Alexander, pushed Estelle’s wheelchair up to the emerald desk. Once securing the wheelchair in place, Alexander stepped away from the founder and head of the Flamel family.

Estelle smiled at her children. A soft voice spoke from the heavens “<Shall we begin?>” The woman’s mouth did not move, but everyone knew who’s voice it was. With the sound of Estelle’s gavel hitting the sound block, the Flamels began their family meeting.

---

The air was heavy. Everyone had a grim expression on their face. Some looked like they were about to cry. Beauregard heard soft sniffles coming from the gallery, but no one talked. The old man sitting one seat away from Beauregard opened his dry mouth to talk. “H-h…” He began, then swallowed. He hesitated to speak up once again. “Let us change the question.” Beauregard said instead. Within the black orb, the starry sky appeared with a specific number of stars shining. “How many witch candidates are left who are yet to face their trial?” 6/7th of the stars fell from the sky. The morose atmosphere continued to linger in the library. Beauregard opened his mouth again and shut it momentarily when another star suddenly fell from the orb’s sky. “Show us the remaining candidates.” The remaining stars in the orb started to grow larger. The lights pulled itself out of the orb and started to change into a holographic profile with images and personal information of each candidate. The other witches’ discussion on future plans concerning the witch candidates became white noise as Beauregard’s attention focused on one person’s profile. He smiled in relief.

“I guess Brea’s boy is still a candidate.” A voice pulled Beauregard’s attention to the discussion at hand. “Considering the deal you made with her, I am going to assume you have already made preparations for his trial?” Beauregard grinned. “What do you think I’ve been doing?” The twelve witches stared at Beauregard. Twenty four eyes filled with the urge to make a complaint or a snappy comment stared Beauregard down so hard he thought he was about to spontaneously combust. He didn’t even see Sophia and he could feel her powerful death glare on him. “Aside from being the source of eustress for some people and distress for others, I have chosen someone. I was planning to have him face the trial tomorrow night.”

The still not-undead-but-looks-like-he-might-as-well-be man looked at Beauregard at the corner of his eye. “Tomorrow or today?”

Beauregard stared blankly in the air for a moment, before realizing what Evan meant. “It’s the 16th isn’t it?”

“Yeah, we have that party tonight.”
Ojise’s face lightened up excitement. “A bashment? Mi wa---…”
“You’re the last person who’d want to go.”
“Wha mek?”
“It’s going to be one of those formal parties. You know? The Anderson kind? ”
Ojise was instantly disappointed at the news. “Ahoa.”

Evan sank into the back of his chair, cradling his bent legs close to his body with one arm and placing his free hand’s nails close to his mouth. “Though I see no point in it,” he muttered. If anyone else heard the comment, no one gave a response.

“As usual, I will be going as Estelle’s replacement.” Alexander announced. “Ten had also requested to go with me. If anyone would also like to accompany us, please speak now.” Silence. “Then, I suppose that settles that matter.”

The head of the family had been observing Beauregard with interest since the subject of the party came up. “<Decem, you are planning to take Brea’s child with you to this party.>” The invisible crowd and the visible witches began to stir. “What!?” one witch yelled. “Are you crazy?” another added. “Isn’t that against the contract?” Beauregard grinned at the word contract. There was indeed a magical contract made between the Flamels and Beauregard’s daughter. As long as the contract existed, going against any of its terms meant certain death. “You don’t need to worry about that,” Beauregard reassured his family. “The contract allows us to get into direct contact with the lad during Emergence season. No members of the Flamel are allowed to tell him about his lineage or the magic community in general. However, the contract does not forbid individuals outside of the Flamel family from telling the lad anything.”

“You’re… going to have a normal human… participate in a party… full of powerful witches... who would more than likely annihilate other witch families in a heartbeat… to what end?”

“He’s going to be a witch.” Beauregard’s voice tone was intransigent. “I know he’s going to become a witch. It’s going to happen. When it does, he’ll need to learn everything that he can as fast as he can. The lad is too far behind the other witch candidates, all thanks to his mother. He needs to know his rivals. His enemies. This party is for him to put faces to names.” Beauregard shrugged. “Or names to faces. Whichever comes first.”

“I wish I had your confidence in this boy. What make you think he’ll become a witch?”
“He’s the brightest star I have seen in years.”

---

Pazel Razi shifted uncomfortably under the mixed stares of his extended family. He had been waiting at the bus stop, as promised over the phone, until a sleek white limousine stopped in front of the bench. Three individuals in expensive looking suits came out of the car to greet Pazel, then froze in place when they saw what he was wearing. He had chosen to wear the sexy witch costume for s***s and giggles, but from how hard Uncle Beauregard laughed and how Aunt Sophie repeatedly hit her brother, demanding for an explanation, Pazel began to have second thoughts. It was when the four reached the Anderson estate, when he realized why his costume was a problem: it was a formal party. Nothing but suits and pretty dresses all around. Some random person accosted the four and asked whether or not Pazel’s outfit was to compensate for the lack of something. Pazel was not really sure what that something was, but it embarrassed him none the less. He regretted assumed the “Halloween party” was a costume party. While Sophie performed an impressive Northern Lights Suplex on Beauregard off on the side, Alexander comforted his nephew, informing him that they would call their house for someone to bring a suitable outfit for Pazel to wear if he felt out of place. Pazel respectfully declined the generous offer. It was late and he didn’t feel his momentary embarrassment was worth the trouble of finding a suit for him. Luckily for Pazel, the sight of a young man wearing a witch costume in a formal witch party wore out its novelty as the party continued. Eventually, a majority of the witches paid no heed to it.

---

Stationed beside the sweet buffet, Pazel watched the party guests socialize. If Pazel didn’t know any better, he would have thought they were all celebrities of some kind. Even the people who looked close to his age had a special aura about them. He saw Uncle Beauregard walking about in the crowd. Pazel was not really sure if his uncle was popular amongst the guests, but he did notice how Beauregard flirted with every man, woman, young, and old in the building. No one showed any resentment towards Beauregard’s advancements. At least, not while he was near them: some of the guests showed distaste only when Beauregard was out of their vicinity. He thought a fight would erupt when someone started an argument, but the longer the man interacted with Beauregard, the harder it seemed to be for the man to resist Beauregard’s charm, or something of that manner. In the end, the man looked love-struck, providing a window of opportunity for Beauregard to escape. Had the man genuinely fallen in love, it would have been all fine and dandy, however, a few beats after Beauregard left the man, he snapped out of his trance and was back to his previous temper, if not angrier than before.

Since the first time he heard his uncle over phone, many months ago, Pazel had felt something strange. The feeling became more frequent when he started meeting his mother’s family more often. It was not a bad feeling, in fact, it was very pleasant: he felt happy and comfortable with his uncle around. Then the magic would just disappear when Beauregard left. It was as if Beauregard presence alone pleased all five senses. Pazel wondered if the other guests felt the same thing he did. Some of them must have. Though, in some instances, people outright ignored Beauregard existence as if to avoid feeling the feeling. Only the exceptional few interacted with Beauregard normally.

“Are you having fun?” Sophie approached Pazel and stole a strawberry off of his plate.
“The food’s great.”
“And that’s always worth going to a party.”
“Speaking of which, you still haven’t told me what this party is about.”
“Do you see that group of important looking people Alexander is with?” Pazel glanced in the direction Sophie was pointing at and nodded. “They’re doing stuff that important people do.”
“Oh… so why am I here?”
“Beauregard wanted you to come.”
“Why?”
Sophie shrugged. “Knowing him as long as I do? Probably to humiliate our entire family.”
“I’m guessing that’s a common occurrence.”
“Don’t even get me started.”

Emergence

@upscalerat: Cool! Tutor for the core classes it is then! … Good luck Emily…

@Teknopathetic: Depending on ToskaO's response, I think I will have Pazel working at a bar/cafe. Which at this point, I'm about to make it into a cafe that turns into a bar at night. Maximilienne may fall victim to Pazel's experimental dishes he makes (such as his mealworm bolognese sauce on arugula agar spaghetti).

As for Rosenkreuz, I didn't think they would be on good terms. That might change later, but not any time soon. I mean, for starters, Rosenkreuz is an assassin: not exactly the most honorable career. Ze has killed innocents for money, got in the way of the Order a number of times, and killed members of the Order, again, for money. I doubt Maximilienne would want to be buddy-buddy with Rosenkreuz.

Emergence

upscalerat said If it's not too late to jump on the forming-relations bandwagon, I'd like to see if I can convince someone to perhaps have known li'l ol' Em for a bit? Especially someone who didn't know they were a witch or something? I don't know.Who knows? Maybe she'll form a nice friendship and [s]realize she's a racist[/i] come to terms with the idea of witches, or not. :'D

…

Oh wait, are you talking about Paz (the "especially someone who didn't know they were a witch or something" part)? Oh yeah, they can totally be acquaintances/friends.

Lets see… Em's a graduate student for astrology right? They have different majors and are not even on the same education level so… maybe she can be a tutor? Paz is not a complete idiot, but he can get horrendous grades if he's not interested in the subject matter.

Or they could became acquaintances/friends through something unrelated to school. Uh… maybe at a party? Through a mutual friend? At the part time job that I have yet to decide for Paz? Extra curricular activities?

I wonder, would she have met Rosenkreuz on a witch-hunting job?

@Teknopathetic: I'm starting to thinking Paz working part time at a bar/cafe is the best way to get aquatinted with non-student characters. Especially if the character is a regular customer.

Maximilienne would have probably ran into Rosenkreuz during a job a number of times (ze has killed witches and people from the Order). Rosenkreuz could bother her off duty (or vice versa).

@Doctor Belasco: Private schools tend to do whatever they want. If the Andersons want to keep tabs on every witch-affiliated individual they'd probably want Sebastian to keep an eye on Paz. The Flamels could have requested the Andersons to mask Sebastian's meetings as counseling sessions (and give some BS reason for Pazel to go the sessions... something psychology major related). The Flamels would pay extra (or provide a discount for their magic ingredients/artifacts) for Sebastian to report them about Pazel.

@ToskaO: …Actually that sounds kind of fun… *Thinks about it* Her unhealthy appearance probably would make Pazel want to feed her.

Oh, by any chance, would she go to a bar or cafe often? I'm debating if Pazel should work there instead (so he has the chance to meet other non-student characters) or as Adelaide's nanny apprentice---… or Pazel could work at the shop that supplies Adelaide's tattoo ink/supplies. I'm kind of leaning on the bar/cafe, but Adelaide's apprentice is appealing too.

Emergence

Doctor Belasco said He's not a secret. Those students relevant to him are supposed to be in the know, and I like to think he has periodic meetings with each of them (which he would take about as seriously as the students) in order to double-check they're not going to go whacko and sabotage another family. He also won't bother to keep his extracurricular activities secret - it's not in his interest for emerging (in more ways than one) members of the magical community to be ignorant of what he does.

Which may pose a problem with Paz. He can have the meetings, but he honestly has no idea what's going on (he probably would think it was just a periodic counseling session). Pazel's mother wanted him out of the witch world so kept him oblivious to it all. The Flamels have also kept their promise to leave Pazel out of the circle until he becomes a witch. If he fails to become one, they leave him and his family alone forever.

…But we all know he's going to become a witch sooner or later ;)

@All: Pazel has seen, and maybe been in the same classes with, the other student characters, but that's probably about it. He knows nothing about witches so never treated the non-witches and witches differently.

As for the other non-college related characters, Paz knows absolutely nothing about. Unless he becomes acquainted with them through some kind of part time job.

Maybe Paz will work at some kind of bar/cafe/restaurant place that a lot of the characters go to. *Shrugs*

Emergence

The desolate dry landscape stretched far into the horizon, so far that it seemed to continue into eternity. Nothing could be seen. Nothing was there to see. In this land of nothingness was a boy and a witch sitting under the shade of a twisted tree without leaves.

“What’s a star?” asked the little boy.

The witch looked down at the child. “A star?”

The boy nodded before pointing at the bright blue sky, absent of clouds, above them. “The adults said that stars are little lights in the sky,” he turned to face the witch. “Are they fireflies?”

The witch smiled. “Some old cultures believed that.”

“What are they then?”

“There are so many explanations to what a star is. They can literally be anything you want them to be. Which version do you want to know?”

“All of them!” exclaimed the boy with a wide smile to which the witch laughed in response to.

“All of them? We’d be here all week, if I did that. Your mother would be furious with me if I don’ take you home before dinner.”

“Then you better get started! There’s no time like the present!”
“You’re starting to sound like someone I know.”
“Mama.”
“Ah, yes, that does sound like your mother.”

Chuckling, the witch looked up into the sky. The boy followed the witch’s gaze. “There’s a constellation over there the Phoenicians called Melkarth. The Greeks called it the Phantom,” the witch began when pointing at a specific area in the blue sky. “But we know it as Hercules, the hero who faced and overcame 12 trials to prove his courage and heroism. One day, Hercules put on a tunic that contained a deadly poison. In pain, he climbed a mountain, built a funeral pyre, and perished in its fires.”

“What’s a funeral pyre?” the child interrupted.
“Think of it as a bonfire for burning dead bodies in.” The witch continued. “Jupiter, or Zeus, was touched by this that he had Hercules’s body carried into the heavens and placed it in the sky where his constellation is now.”

“That’s stupid. If Hercules had time to climb a mountain, build a funeral… a funeral…”
“Pyre.”
“A funeral pie.
“Pyre.”
“A funeral pyre and burn himself in it. He should have gone to a doctor. Or! Or find some kind of medicine to help him. Mama would save him!”

The witch burst out laughing. When the laughing continued long enough for the boy to wonder if he had said something wrong, the witch finally spoke. “I know right?” The witch sighed deeply and repeated his sentence once again, quietly this time. The boy tilted his head to the side. Before the child could ask what was wrong, the witch smiled and continued to tell the boy stories about stars and constellations.

The witch explained that many cultures believed that the stars were the souls of those yet to be born; of those already born; of those who have died. The stars, or rather their constellations, were like a novel, full of stories about the souls of those who died, those who live, and those who do not yet exist. The boy listened intently as the witch told the story about star-crossed lovers, Orihime (Vega) and Hikoboshi (Altair), who were separated by the Milky Way and were only allowed to meet each other once a year on the seventh day of the seventh lunar month. The boy’s eyes sparkled with excitement when the witch reenacted the story of the four persistent hunters and their hunting dog that chased the Great Bear into the sky and killed it, only for it to come back to life, and continue the hunt once again. The boy shrieked in delight when the witch covered the child with a large blanket, while telling the story of Citlalicue, an Aztec goddess whose skirt was literally the starry night sky itself. When the boy’s eyes adjusted to the darkness of the blanket, he was sitting in the dry land under a night sky sprinkling with shining diamonds. It took a long time for the witch to calm the child down.

“Do you have a favorite star story?” the boy asked once the initial excitement of witnessing the stars subsided to some degree.

“Hmm? Hmmm…” The witch stared at the stars in thought. “A fellow witch told me this story once… many, many years ago. She said that powerful deities lived in the heavens. From there, they controlled everything using stars. Everything that happened on earth was determined by the stars. The stars decided who you were, who you were going to be, what would happen, and what you were going to do. The deities were the author of the stories, the stars were the script, and everything on earth was the oblivious actors, playing their parts.”

“Fate?”

“Yes, everything was destined by the stars.” The witch’s hand reached for the sky, then stole a handful of stars from it. “Until humans stole the stars away from the gods. From that day on, man was the master of his own destiny. ” Glowing jewels fell from the witch’s grasp into the small hands below.

The boy stared at the star shaped diamonds in his hands. “So… people are the stars?”

“I guess you can say that. People are their own little star, but there are those who shine brighter than the average star.”

“Who are they?”
“They are special.”
“Like you?”

The witch smiled before putting a hand over the boy’s. “Like you.” When the witch pulled away, the star shaped diamonds were replaced with fireflies that flew away as soon as they were free from their prison. Silently, the two watched the insects fly away into the darkness.

“Are the stars gone because humans keep taking them away every time they come out?”
“Not every star. Scientifically speaking, the sun is a star too, you know?”

The boy’s eyes widened at the news. “Really!? Why can we still see the sun?”

“Who knows,” the witch shrugged. “Maybe because we’d die without the sun. Even if the sun was just invisible for 20 years, we’d go mad. Without the sun’s light, we’d be completely lost in the dark. Without the sun… ‘tomorrow’ will never come. Maybe whoever, whatever, hid the stars from us thought taking our sun was overkill.”

“----!”

The boy looked around his surroundings, quizzically. He thought he heard someone. The witch seemed to notice as well, but continued to talk. “I never truly cared for the stars. They are pretty, yes, but that’s it. They say the universe continues to expand, creating new stars and plants, yet it feels like they have no effect on us. These stars, they’re so far away. So cold. The closest star from earth, other than the sun, is easily over 4 light-years away. The sun might not shine every centimeter of this planet every day, but it’s the brightest, closest, warmest star we’ll ever have.”

“----! ----?”

“Mama?” The boy stood up to look for what he thought would be his mother.

“----zel!”

“Mama!”

The witch sighed after watching the child become increasingly upset. “I guess I kept you too long.” The witch slowly pulled at Citlalicue’s skirt. As the witch did so, the starry night sky started to shift. The bright twinkling lights of the stars faded away and the black sky started to turn into a gradient of dark blue, blue, grayish blue, and orange. At the other end of the horizon, the edge of the witch’s blanket, the yellow sun appeared. It was dawn.

“You are the brightest star I have seen in years,” the boy thought he heard the witch say. “I really hope you realize your full potential.”

“Pazel.”

A hand slowly emerged from the warmth and comfort of its blanket cocoon to turn the alarm off. A few moans and groans could be heard in the room, but nothing truly moved for two full minutes. Then six alarm clocks went off at the same time.

Emergence has come, little stars. Run as fast as you can if you want to continue to shine. Run if you do not want to be taken away. Shine as brightly as you possibly can if you do not want to be engulfed by the darkness; the void; the nothingness.

---

Beauregard D. Flamel was staring at the stars from a comfortable king sized bed in the suite room of a hotel. From how clearly he could see the self-luminous celestial bodies made up of gas, he knew that every person in Seattle was making an effort to turn off as many lights as possible to see the main attraction more clearly. Though he thought the stars were pretty, Beauregard had experienced Emergence more times than the average man, the wonder and beauty of it all had worn off over the years. His lover lying right next to him seemed to agree as well.

The young brunette’s glazed eyes were fixated on Beauregard’s face. He smiled at the woman as he started to play with her hair with one hand. “I would have thought you’d be interested more in the stars than me.” He was lying of course. He knew that Margaret would choose him over everything else. They all did.

“You are more important to me than those stars.” Margaret’s lips planted a number of kisses on Beauregard’s chest. “Besides, the stars have enough attention right now.”

“That’s sweet Peggy.”

Beauregard leaned forward, but a knock on the door interrupted Beauregard from returning her kisses. Margaret whined as Beauregard excused himself to open the door. He didn’t care to put on clothes of any sort to cover his naked body when answering the door. He already knew who it was and it was somebody he loved to mess around with. A mischievous smile painted Beauregard’s face as he opened the door.

As he thought, it was who Beauregard expected: his sister. Beauregard knew he would see a well-dressed petite woman with bright red hair that was fiery as her spirit. She had a facial expression that looked similar to a smile, but one could tell the woman was nowhere near having a good time. Beauregard rarely saw his sister in a good mood. Then again, he always gave her a reason to be in a bad mood. It was what little brothers were for. What Beauregard did not expect was his sister holding an arm full of phallic-symbols ranging from a banana to a cigar stick which the woman, still smiling, snapped in half with a standard dual blade guillotine cigar cutter.

Beauregard’s fight-or-flight response kicked in. He quickly attempted to shut the door, but his sister’s reflex were significantly faster; a foot slid in and inhibited him from accomplishing the simple task. As Beauregard’s arm shook fiercely to close the door, or at least keeping it from opening it any further, his free hand struggled to place the door chain in place. Every time his hand passed the small crack, however, a carrot would whack his hand. With no sign of the door moving either way, the two were at a stalemate.

“Hi Sophie.”
“Hello, brother.”
“I didn’t know you smoked.”
“I don’t.”
“Explains why you wasted a perfectly good cigar.”
“Yes, it is a waste when you cut things so short that they become useless.”
“Is… that a threat?”
“Ahaha. Does it sound like one?”
“Why… do you have those things?”
“Oh, these? These are nothing; I went shopping after work. I just really needed to mutilate something that best represented my business partner. You see, I had a really bad day today. Did you know my partner was this close to single handedly destroying the lives of his employees? It’s amazing really. Which reminds me, brother, what time is it?”
“Night time?”

Sophie flicked the carrot directly into her brother’s face, making Beauregard momentarily paralyzed, and giving Sophie the time to open the door wider. With the dreaded carrot gone, as soon as he recovered, Beauregard managed to slip the door chain into its place before backing away from the door. It was only going to be a matter of time until Sophie the fire spewing mini She-Hulk would break the chains.

The door began to crack and the chains started to scream as Sophie continued to push open the door. “SIX HOURS LATE TO YOUR OWN GODDAMN MEETING! DAMN IT BEAUREGARD, DIDN’T I TELL YOU REPEATEDLY THAT WE HAD AN IMPORTANT EXECUTIVE MEETING!?”

“Yes! And I said I would be absent!”

The chains suddenly snapped and Sophie slammed the door open with such force that the door’s hinges broke. “BY SENDING A F***ING D***O!?”

“No. No. If you were paying any attention, you would have noticed a letter that said ‘Sorry I couldn’t make it to the meeting, I have a date. I sent you guys a present. Think of it as me. Make sure you share it with everyone. Have fu---…” Sophie backhanded Beauregard with the golden d***o in question and proceeded to beat her little brother with it.

“OW! OW! IT WAS A JOKE OKAY!?”
“NO ONE WAS LAUGHING! IF YOU WANTED TO SAY F**K YOU, YOU COULD HAVE BEEN THERE TO SAY IT INSTEAD OF---…”

Sophie’s ears caught something cutting through the air. Her hair, eyes, and back suddenly emitted a mixture of red, orange, and yellow colored lights for a split second, before turning the fork, in midair, into ash. Sophie’s eyes narrowed as she turned her head towards Margaret. The woman had the decency of wearing a bathrobe, unlike someone else, but the thing barely covered the places that needed to be covered. Based on Margaret’s expression Sophie knew what she intended to do with the knife in her hand. Sophie did not feel threatened. She was p***ed. Who did that bitch think she was throwing a fork at Sophie Flamel? Does she really think a normal human had any chance of defeating Sophie Flamel? The nerve of her! In her head, Sophie knew it was pointless to get mad at Margaret. Regardless of the person she used to be, it was ultimately Beauregard’s fault Margaret was ready to attack Sophie. Anyone could see it in her eyes: Margaret was an addict. An addict obsessed with one man and one man only. People say the obsession was love, pure and simple. What these people don’t know is that any romantic relationship with Beauregard Flamel was poisonous.

“Bo,” she hissed. “Is this filthy whore hurting you?”

Beauregard could practically hear his sister snap. As much as he thought it would be entertaining to watch a catfight, he couldn’t have Sophie burning Margaret into a pile of ash or pound her body into a patty which Sophie would undoubtedly shove down his throat. Not now at least. He chose Margaret for a reason. If she died here, his time spent with her would have been a waste of time. Beauregard got up from the ground with a charming smile and a soothing voice, approached Margaret. “No Peggy, I’m perfectly fine. We were just playing around. My sweet-gentle-wonderful-illustrious-pulchritudinous-intellectually superior darling sister would never hurt me. Look. See? Nothing.” His hand gently touched her hand holding the knife. “It’s okay. You can let go of the knife now.” When Margaret continued to stare at Sophie with suspicion, Beauregard spoke with extra honey, “Peggy.” On cue, Margaret dropped the knife. Completely forgetting Sophie’s existence, Margaret turned to Beauregard as if he was, once again, the center of her universe. “Good girl.” He petted the brunette as a reward. “You always look out for me don’t you?”

“Of course I do!” Margaret hugged Beauregard like a security blanket. “I love you.”

“Damn it all.” Sophie exhaled slowly, attempting to let her boiling blood cool down. “Beauregard. We need to go. We’re having a family meeting concerning… you know what.”

The brother’s smile broadened further as he continued to caress Margaret. “That I do.”

Emergence

No problem! Things do happen unexpectedly in real life :)

Oh, I was going to ask you this after you posted in the IC (cause I expected it would be answered then), but I might as well ask.

This party, is it on the first day/night of Emergence? Or is it perhaps a day or so before or after the first day/night? … I guess the real question is whether you want all the would-be-witch characters to be officially witches by the time the party started. If it is the first day/night, I don't know how many people had the chance to kill anyone/thing just yet... then again, that might just be my character alone. He has no idea what's going on

Emergence

Character Sheet (Witch):

Pazel Razi

Name: Pazel “Paz” Razi

Family: Flamel

Innate Ability: Pazel has what is known as the “Eyes of Truth”; in each of his eyes, the symbol for “truth” are magically inscribed into Pazel's iris. Through these eyes, Pazel can see what cannot normally be seen. This can range from detecting deception to retrocognition. Pazel is, however, still a novice witch who had no prior training, thus, is limited in what he can see. Initially Pazel can only see: far into the distance; supernatural creatures/beings (such as spirits); the presence of magic; whether someone is lying or not (to what, is not always clear); and random fragmented visions of the person/object of interest's past and/or mental state that usually do not make any sense on its own. The visions can appear and disappear in a flash or linger on for a few minutes like a hallucination. It should also be noted that Pazel cannot “hear” what he sees. At least, not without some kind of magical assistance.

Age: 21

Appearance: With caramel skin, honey brown eyes speckled with what can only be described as golden dust, and gold semi-long curly hair that cannot be tamed, Pazel is the sun personified. Excluding his hair, when standing, the highest point of this human-sun is approximately 5 feet 10 inches from the ground. Pazel has the body build and flexibility of an acrobat.

Half of Pazel's wardrobe is brightly colored while the remaining half are earth colored. As the majority of his attire suggest, Pazel tends to choose loose fitting garments that are comfortable to move in over fashionable clothes. He has only three pairs of shoes: sandals, hiking boots, and parkour shoes. Pazel does not usually wear any additional accessories, but he has multiple helix and conch piercings on both of his ears.

Personality: Pazel presents himself to be a lighthearted man towards others. He is a talkative lad who charms those around him with his childlike qualities. He is much more cautious than he allows people to think. He does not blindly trust people, though he will give others the benefit of the doubt. Innocuous by nature, Panzel tries to be respectful and friendly as much as possible to others, regardless of who they are, but he is always somewhat aloof towards strangers and acquaintances.

Pazel is an adventurous challenger who is always willing to try something new at least once. He loves to have fun and joke around, but is responsible and sensible enough to never go overboard. As long as he stays interested, Pazel becomes extremely invested in the matter at hand: Pazel would learn everything there is to learn about it, train accordingly, polish his skills/work, and present results that are more than adequate. The moment he gets bored Pazel's interests quickly dissipates and his attention wonders to something else. He will complete the task if necessary, but his behavior makes it obvious that he would rather do something else. If things become too monotonous, Pazel can become sluggish. The only two hobbies that Pazel has continued to do for years are yoga and cooking.

Bio: 23 years ago Pazel's mother, Brea, ran away from home, fed up with the world of witches. After completing her medical training, she traveled the world as a doctor of MSF. During her travels Brea met Pazel's father, Arun Razi, who was a freelance journalist and photographer. They fell in love, married, and Pazel was born. The Razi family would have lived in peace, free of witchcraft, if the witches of Flamel had not constantly pestered Brea. During the last Emergence they tried to take her back home and when that failed, the Flamels hired thugs to kill her to coax Brea into killing her attackers in self-defense. When neither succeeded, they constantly spied on the Razi family and attempted to kidnap Pazel multiple times. Finally one day, Brea struck a deal with the Flamels: Pazel was to come to the Flamel estate during the next Emergence and if he failed to become a witch, the Flamels would leave the Razis alone forever, as long as they steer clear from witches and witchcraft.

As far as Pazel could remember, his mother was overly protective over him. She would always carry him around with her and never let Pazel out of her sight, despite her work place being the worst place to take or raise a baby at. The only other person she trusted with her child was Pazel's father. Some say that Brea became paranoid because of her hazardous work environment, but something told Pazel that the threat his mother felt was something much more than paranoia. Pazel could not pin point when exactly, but after some time, Brea started to mellow out. Pazel was allowed to go to places and do things which his mother would have forbidden perviously. When the subject of magic and the supernatural came up, however, she would still become extremely agitated.

Pazel's childhood and adolescence was spent in one of two places: where his parents currently resided (as long as it was not a war-zone) or California. For a majority of his childhood Pazel stayed in California, where his father's family lived at. On vacation, Pazel would go visit his parents or his parents would come visit him. Once an adolescent, he traveled to where his parents were at and worked as a volunteer while being home schooled. When Pazel was admitted to Anderson University, Pazel moved into the undergraduate dormitory where he would enjoy his university life for four years.

Pazel is currently a senior majoring in psychology and a minoring in performing arts.

Others: Pazel was not aware of his magic blood.

Witch Family Sheet:

Flamel

Family Name: Flamel

Leader/Notable Members:

Estelle Flamel: The official head of the Flamel family who rarely leaves her mansion. Estelle is one of the few, if not only, living members of the ancient House of Elendil and has lived over hundreds, maybe even thousands, of years. Though she looks like the same individual, Estelle's appearance has never been consistent with the actual flow of time. Every now and then Estelle appears to look a different age. Many have attempted and even succeeded in killing Estelle during her long life, but for some odd reason, she always “came back to life”. She is thought to have prolonged her life through alchemic means. Estelle is a powerful witch who seems to be unaffected by the current magic problem the Flamels are facing. It is rumored that she can see still see the stars in the heavens, regardless of the season, thus, is still able to perform astrological divination.

Alexander D. Flamel: Uncle of Pazel. Alexander is the unofficial head of the Flamel family who serves as Estelle's representative in public meetings. He has a total of four symbols tattooed on to him. One symbol is tattooed on his tongue with the meaning “ice”; The symbol for “armor” is one large elaborate tattoo that covers most of his entire being; the symbol for “speed” is on the bottom of his feet; and on the palm of his hands is the symbol for “sleep”.

Beauregard D. Flamel: A handsome alchemist who has aged extremely well. Beauregard was, and still is, notorious for being a playboy. He is thought to have numerous illegitimate children all over the world. Many claim he used magic to seduce his lovers. Father of Alexander and Brea.

Economic Standing: Wealthy

Magical Standing: Once a powerful family, the Flamel have become somewhat of an underdog over the years due to the fact that their family has been producing fewer witches with each coming Emergence. In addition to the lack of witches, the few witches they do have seem to have problems with even the simplest of magic spells which are considered parlor tricks to other witch families. Fortunately, as if to compensate for the lack of magic abilities, the Flamel witches are considered geniuses in regard to alchemy and the Flamel's mysterious symbol magic has kept most enemies at bay. Their magical artifacts and homemade ingredients are considered to be top notch and are highly valued within the witch community. The Flamel often does business with other witches who request their merchandise.

The Flamel is a relatively large family, with plenty of smaller branch families, but a majority of its members are normal humans and witches are of the minority. Few Flamel humans living near or at the Flamel estate, but many have moved away from their home. Those who do leave the magic world, tend to become very successful in the career they choose. Any witches that originally lived far way are sent to live at the estate where the family laboratory is located at.

Magical Standing: Once a powerful family, the Flamels have become somewhat of an underdog over the years due to the fact that their family has been producing fewer witches with each coming Emergence. In addition to the lack of witches, the few witches they do have seem to have problems with even the simplest of magic spells which are considered parlor tricks to other witch families. Fortunately, as if to compensate for the lack of magic abilities, the Flamel witches are considered geniuses in regard to alchemy and the Flamel's mysterious symbol magic has kept most enemies at bay. Their magical artifacts and homemade ingredients are considered to be top notch and are highly valued within the witch community. The Flamel often does business with other witches who request their merchandise.

The Flamel family is a relatively large one, with plenty of smaller branch families, but a majority of its members are normal humans and witches are of the minority. Few Flamel humans live near or at one the Flamel's estates. Many have moved away from their homes for one reason or another. Those who do leave the magic world, tend to become very successful in the career they choose. Any witches that originally lived far way are sent to live at one of the estates where a family laboratory is located.

Values: Being a house full of alchemists, the Flamel value knowledge, experience, and creativity. Though the Flamel respect tradition and take pride in their heritage, they are not known for being orthodox; new ideas do not arise from sticking to the old ways. The Flamel are somewhat laid back, allowing the individual to express themselves freely and are capable of accepting certain types of failure as a learning success. They can, however, become extremely strict when business and education are involved: they will accept nothing less than perfect. For the Flamel family, being bored is a sin.

Magical Style: The Flamel family is proficient in the school of alchemy and symbol magic.

Symbol magic, roughly explained, is a type of magic that uses “symbols” (which can range from drawings to letters) to cause a special event to occur. What event occurs largely depends on what the symbol means. For example, if the witch places a symbol that basically means “fire explosion” and the symbol is activated, a fire explosion would occur. Symbol magic can also be used for summoning, but such magic are considered “expensive” to the Flamels since the summon usually requires various other items in order to “pay” for the summoned creature's services or to make them submit to the summoner.

In the context of symbol magic, everything matters: every line, space, color, and even material used to draw/write the symbol can change the meaning and the effects of that symbol. As long as the symbol exists it can always be activated or is still active. Even when the symbol looks like it disappeared in the eyes of an untrained individual, it is possible that it still remains, so one must double check using some kind of magic or magic item.

For the average witch of the Flamel family to cast a spell, without the assistance of a magic artifact or required preparation, the symbols must be tattooed/branded on to their body. The strength of each symbol is largely dependent on how powerful the witch is. The more complex the symbol is (thus more complex the meaning is), the witch has less limitations concerning the ability that symbol grants them. Additional symbols can be added onto the body, but there are regulations. First, it must be understood that symbols posses great power. If the witch is not ready to control them, the symbols will mentally and/or physically destroy the witch. There is physically only so much space on a person to place a symbol and still be effective. It is also strongly advised that the witch selects symbols that work in harmony and not against each other. A powerful witch may be able to withstand a few conflicting symbols, but the average witch will be overwhelmed by the conflicting symbols and suffer consequences ranging from being unable to control one or both of the symbols to simply dying.

Symbols can be removed from both the body or object, but both are so time and resource consuming that it is actually easier to kill or destroy the person/living thing or object. This is especially true for symbols branded on a living thing. It can take years and lot of materials to completely remove the symbol.

Family History: The Flamels are the descendants of an ancient witch clan known as the House of Elendil. Members of the House of Elendil were said to be astrologers gifted in stellar magic. With the disappearance of the stars, however, their stellar magic weakened significantly and rendered then practically useless. The House of Elendil eventually divided into multiple independent families with their own leaders and their own specialty. One of these many branched families were the Flamels.

No one knows whether it is related to the House of Elendil having star related magic or not, but some time after the disappearance of the stars, the decedents of the Flamel family started to become less prone to magic; with each coming Emergence, fewer children became witches. As a witch family, their social status began to waver within the witch community, but as a mortal family the Flamels eventually became celebrities. Thanks to their rigorous alchemy and symbol deciphering training since a young age, the non-witches of the Flamel family often became world-acclaimed scientists, medical doctors, chefs, and artists.

Character Sheet (Hunter):

Rosenkreuz

Name: Rosenkreuz A.K.A. Red Riding Hood

Hunter Type: Outcast

Age: ??

Appearance: The black combat clothes hides every distinctive characteristics of Rosenkreuz. He, or possibly she (though most likely male), wears lightweight tactical gear which covers every inch of the body, from neck to toe. In addition to having a face mask that covers everything but hir eyes and nose, Rosenkreuz, wears a full face gas mask and a helmet. Ze usually wears a long dark red rain poncho which seems to have magic properties. An exquisite silver rosary hangs from hir neck.

Personality: The impression of Rosenkreuz changes drastically based on whether ze is working or not. During combat Rosenkreuz is a silent calculating hunter who shows no sympathy. When ze attacks to kill, ze attacks without holding back. Ze never underestimates hir opponents. If there is any kindness left in the assassin, it is that ze makes sure hir victims have a swift and painless death.

Out side of battle, Rosenkreuz loosens up... a little too much. Ze becomes playful and even a little inappropriate. Ze seems to be an easy-going individual who does not dwell on matters that ze cannot change. Things that Rosenkreuz thinks ze can change, ze immediately works on it. Rosenkreuz is open-minded, having few things in the world that truly disturb him. Though it can be argued that ze simply doesn't care about other people.

Bio: Rosenkreuz was born into a house full of hitmen for hire. They have no true alliance with any organization and are willing to kill anyone for the appropriate price: even if the target is a witch. The Order(s) considers this family, known as The Rosenthal in the underworld, to be an Outcast.

Many years ago, Rosenkreuz's family were hired to kill a specific individual of a wealthy family. Rosenkreuz's mother went undercover to investigate her target, only to fall in love with him. Despite the man being one of the worst kind of individual to be attracted to, she could not help it. It was like magic. She could have forfeited the contract, but regardless, her client would have just hired someone else. If the love of her life was going to die, she felt that she had to be the one to kill him. She made love with him one night with the intent to kill him, only to discover that he had known who she was. She was not sure what happened next, for when she realized what had happened, everything was over: the man got all the information he needed from her and had her client assassinated. The man simply kissed her farewell and went on his merry way. Rosenkreuz's mother never forgot about this man. She never loved anyone as much as she loved Rosenkreuz's father. She loved him until her dying breath.

Rosenkreuz was raised as an only child of a single mother. The only thing ze knew of hir father was that hir name came from hir father and that Rosenkreuz's mother loved the man deeply (so much to the point that even Rosenkreuz acknowledged it as an obsession). Hir maternal grandfather, Ragnar, was a retired knight of the Order. Ragnar trained Rosenkreuz as his apprentice. After training for a decade, Rosenkreuz was conducting assassinations and witch-hunting by the age of 17. When the next Emergence came, however, Rosenkreuz life changed drastically. Ze didn't know what to do with the truth. So ze hid it from everyone. Only hir rosary knows the truth.

Weapons: The pockets on Rosenkreuz's tactical gear are full of blessed consumable items created for the sole purpose of nullifying various magic, temporarily. Depending on how powerful the witch and their spell is, these items may only slightly weaken the effects of the magic.

Rosenkreuz was trained to be a resourceful assassin; ze utilizes anything in hir environment as a weapon. Ze has a dessert eagle and a combat knife on hir person, just in case, but Rosenkreuz rarely uses both because they tend to attract unwanted attention and/or leave too much evidence behind. The offensive weapon(s) Rosenkreuz uses the most often is hir limbs. Rosenkreuz has silver brass knuckles to enhance the effectiveness of hir punches.

Others:

• Rosenkreuz uses a voice changer to make it harder to identify hir voice.


• Rosenkreuz's rosary has the ability to dispel any traces of magic.


• The red rain poncho has the ability to transform the wearer into any living thing as long as the living thing in question's blood had been splashed on to it. The only way to tell whether or not the living thing is Rosenkreuz is by checking if the person/creature is wearing a silver rosary.

Emergence (Witchcraft/Magic)

Doctor Belasco said My concern is that it would be in my character's interest to ally himself with a powerful family. He might consider yours a sinking ship. Obviously there's a plot here - he might have a history with you, or defect away from you over the course of the RP. Don't expect to keep him :P

Sounds delicious! Without a doubt, my family is a sinking ship. Many members of the family know this, but do not want to give up. In a sense, this is why they excelled in alchemy.

The high-end witch society is a backstabbing one and being in the ring for so long, I would assume my family knows the game, thus, take precautions to who they take in. Since they also have symbol magic (which they will never teach anyone, but their bloodline), they could probably brand outsiders before letting them in their inner circle. So when and if they do---…

… *Thinks about it*

On second thought, it might be safer for your character to be unrelated to my family. If they did brand outsiders using symbol magic, then (based on what I can gather of your character so far), he probably wouldn't risk joining a "sinking-ship" family to learn all that he can from them and betray them, only to be possibly killed by the brand. My family may be a sinking ship, but it is a very dangerous one ;) Although, that can also be a sub-plot (your character carrying the cursed brand, which he managed to keep dormant for awhile and is trying to find away to be free from it).

Emergence (Witchcraft/Magic)

Moon said @All: I also hope to have one or two player controlled hunters. If everyone wants a witch character, doubles will be acceptable too.

I can double... *Evil grin* In fact, I was thinking there can be a mole in the witch community.

@Doctor Belasco: My offer still stands :) My family is really desperate to "cure" their magic problem. They'll take/hire any help... though they'll think twice if its a rivaling family.

Emergence (Witchcraft/Magic)

@Doctor Belasco

Doctor Belasco said For the record, I'm looking at a character that goes for the traditional Eye of Newt approach, fire burn and cauldron bubble and all that. In terms of actual magic, he might be more or less incompetent, but, when brewing potions, he is peerless, and so is something a 'fixer'. You want something doing, you go to my guy (and pay him). He is a craftsman, one that will make magical artefacts, or use his potions as a sort of 'fuel' for big, wide-ranging magic with spells that affect the weather, or luck, or wider concepts. Note that this makes him a valuable ally for anybody that is not themselves a witch because he can perform magic on their behalf.Hopefully, another player's magical family will have my character as a sort of 'mage-in-residence' where he would have official ties to the family and all the benefits and duties that that implies, but with slightly more independence and no blood connection.

ViewtifulBastard said @Doctor Belasco Hey I would be interested in hiring your Artificer/Mage for hire. We can work out a backstory, if your interested. My family are survivalists and would not mind working with an outsider. What do you think?

Since there seems to be similarities with my family's specialties and your character's skills, as another option, your character could be a "mage-in-residence" for and/or (ex?) student learning from my family. Their proficiency in alchemy (which includes potion creation and making magic items) can probably benefit your character. They also are facing a decline of witches within their own bloodline, so in exchange for providing an official title to your character, they would want him to marry one of their children and/or contribute to solving the witch-decline problem within their bloodline.

Regardless, your character can expect business competition from my family.