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5 yrs ago
Wraith smells like beans
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Conspiracy Theory: Mahz will never return from vacation.
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13 years and going strong.

I'm waiting for the moment someone in my city mentions roleplayerguild as their hobby.

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Tuesday, April 15th / Early Hours

13th Mourningdove Lane


Emmy could have sworn she heard someone say her name, and glanced behind her as she stepped inside the foyer. Yet the surprise that the lights were out within the mansion drew her attention forwards once more as the door clicked shut behind her. She squinted into the foyer, able to make out a few figures ahead of her along with the paintings and busts that lined the walls. In the next second the lights flickered on, allowing her a glimpse of the room illuminated as she winced, but almost a moment later the doors opened once more and plunged them into darkness.

She turned towards the set of steps jogging inside. Her eyebrows rose, curious as ever, as the tall man came straight to her. She could make out the outline of tousled black hair, glasses, and noticed a thin moustache lining the cheeky grin he gave her.

Who knew a simple "Hi" could feel so flirtatious?

Her head tilted subtly, a smile blooming before she could even respond. He seemed familiar. Like a distant memory, and yet she couldn't place where she'd seen his face before. Was it at the library? A café? Maybe from a long time ago...

The chandelier above lit again as recognition hit her. Her eyebrows twitched as her smile turned into a grin.

"Who would have thought you'd have gotten so tall, Khushwant." She began playfully, oblivious to his nickname. As his question really settled in, her grin lessened, and she immediately laced her gloved fingers together to hide the nerves that wanted to fray her composure. "Well... Yes. It's been... difficult, this past week."

Thankfully the door opened before she could continue, and they were once again plunged into darkness. She cleared her throat softly, glancing between the newcomers, her now very tall old friend, and the ones who came before them each time the lights flickered. There wasn't enough time between the entrances to keep the conversation going, either.

Was she moving closer to him each time the lights went out, or was he? It was all so... unsettling, and the constant change in lighting was starting to give her a headache.

"I'm starting to wonder if this Archivist is even home." She murmured to Khushwant when the twelfth person joined them.

Only when the lights seemed to remain on for longer than five seconds did Emmy let herself relax again. She turned her head towards the first person who spoke, and her eyebrow quirked as they claimed to have been the one to invite them tonight. She had to appreciate the small woman's humor, even if it was odd to call their magic a power.

Emmy looked over Jackson, Lena, and the dancing blue flames in front of them. They seemed to have been the first to arrive, so... maybe they knew why they were waiting so long. Her arms slowly rose to tuck themselves under her small chest as she adjusted her stance to accommodate for how long she'd been standing still.

"Have you happened to have been greeted by the host?" Her timbre carried over the group from where she stood, her tone far but impatient, but ever curious. Suddenly realizing all the attention had turned to her, a small flush came to her cheeks and her heart skipped a beat. Or was it from the amount of time she'd been standing? Either way, she felt like she had to at least acknowledge Lena's latest joke.

"I'm... Emmeline, by the way."



Location: Home - Debolt, Alberta, Canada
Human: #5.084 Fight or Flight!?

Interaction(s): Rory @Webboysurf, Daedalus’s Children
Previously: I’d Gladly Be The Icarus To Your Certainty


A screech erupted out of the silence of the forest, horrific and grinding against Haven’s eardrums, and it took all of her will not to lose herself to the sheer terror that ignited within her.

Her head whipped towards Rory, eyes wide as adrenaline began to course through her veins. They caught sight of movement outside of the front windows and she tracked it, eyes flitting to catch sight of what had come for them.

She could hear the sounds of four limbs pounding closer to the front porch. The figure she caught outside the kitchen window lunged for the banister from the treeline. Eight distinct thumps sounded on the roof to the left. When she looked towards the windows by the front door, towards the roofline, four sets of fingers grasped the edge as black hair hung between them.

They were outnumbered, and worst of all…

They were outmatched.

“Three at the front, and whatever the hell screamed above us!” She shouted to Rory.

Her feet were moving before she could see the face of what owned the four limbs, racing over to join Rory. The front door was already being assaulted by the one who had run on four legs to get there. Haven threw her back against it, ruffled feathers pressed and pinched between the wood and her skin, hoping to keep the one pounding against the door at bay while they fought the other two.

“I’m so sorry.” She managed to choke the words out, her eyes filled with the fear and utter guilt now overwhelming her. Daedalus had come for her, had sent his creations after them, it was all her fault, and she didn’t run. She would stay by Rory’s side until the bitter end.

She grabbed the cane from Rory’s hands and swapped it with the iron poker, knowing it would give him the best luck against these new monsters.

Scratching noises could be heard all around them as Haven whispered. “Run for the truck if you get a chance.”

It was then that bats suddenly erupted within the cabin, crawling out of each and every nook or crack in the cabin’s foundation. Some flew in through the chimney, passing through the flames easily, while some came from the flooring. They made a pass around the room before colliding in front of the backdoor, merging into one conglomerate of flesh until a large man, more bat than human, stood with his leathery wings raised beside him.

Wings like the Chernobog.

He took a shuddering breath and when he screamed sonic pulses emitted through the cabin. They shattered the windows in a flurry of glass, and left the couple’s ears ringing in their wake.

Haven lifted her head from where she’d cringed into herself when he finished. She removed her hands from her ears, disoriented and panicked, and she heard the muffled sound of eight legs dropping into the cabin to her right. Her head turned towards the sound, wondering what else had come for them, and she flinched at the sight of the woman before her.

To Rory’s left, four muffled thumps sounded as a greenish man landed inside on his hands and feet. A shorter man with spikes growing from his skin shortly crawled in after him.

Haven felt like her heart was going to burst out of her chest as her hands tightened around Rory’s cane.



Location: Home - Debolt, Alberta, Canada
Human: #5.080 I Would Gladly Be The Icarus To Your Certainty

Interaction(s): Rory @Webboysurf
Previously: I’d Love You Without Any Wings Attached


Groceries jostled within two large paper bags that Haven held tightly to her chest as she stepped out of the grocer and into the crisp late autumn air outside. Her head turned in the direction of the shop Miller had taken Rory to, but there was no sign of her partner and their landlord along the near empty street. It was an odd feeling to be without Rory for this long. She didn’t feel unsafe, but she didn’t feel at ease either.

She turned towards the weathered bench that sat outside the store, her steps soft as she moved to set the week’s supply of food upon it. Her small, feathered limbs adjusted themselves against her back as she took the remaining space for herself. As she leaned back against the wood, she felt each bone in her wings press against her. Another reminder that they weren’t fully developed. That gravity claimed her feet against the pavement beneath her soles and the sky remained out of reach to her.

Haven turned her gaze to the clouds that swiftly drifted past and over the mountain that began at the town’s edge. She tried to guess the location of her and Rory’s little cabin along the mountain’s slope, mentally mapping the way back to their new home by the roads and not by what could have been an aerial view. The sound of an old engine humming greeted her ears just as she figured she’d found it. Her gaze turned down the street once more, and she laid eyes upon a truck with rust claiming it’s paint. Through its dirty windshield she saw Miller sitting in the passenger seat, but the familiar figure beside him made her heart leap in her chest.

The subtle, pained expression on his face was the only reason her smile did not reach her dimples as the truck pulled into the space in front of her. She gathered the groceries a little too quickly, standing to walk to the passenger side where Miller had opened the door.

“You found a truck for us.” She greeted the older man as she approached.

“I even spared ya’ll a few pennies for the state it’s in.” He grunted as he stepped onto the pavement. “It runs well enough to get you into town and back. Shouldn’t have to worry about maintenance until spring.”

Haven nodded, as if she knew anything about cars, and she glanced inside the cabin of the truck where Rory sat on a well-worn bucket seat similar to Miller’s. “Thank you, for helping us out like this. We should be out of your hair for a while now.”

“Just don’t be strangers, dear. I don’t have much to do nowadays, anyways.” He said, already making his way around the front of the truck as Haven turned her head back towards him. She watched as he took one last look over the wheels and rusted bumper before heading towards his better version of their newest possession.

Haven offered him a wave as he backed out of the lot, and then stepped into the space where the door opened into the cabin. An exhale left her lips as she set the paper bags onto the seat in front of her, then slid the bags into the center. Her eyes then lifted to look into those blues that turned towards her. She smiled softly, before she climbed into the truck and shut the chilly air out with the door beside her. “How did it go?”

Rory shrugged, shifting the car into gear and rotating his torso. He rested his right elbow on the seat, his left hand gripping the wheel as he slowly backed out of the parking spot. His brow was furrowed in concentration. “It's fine for the price. He didn't ask too many questions.”

The car rolled to a stop, and Rory seamlessly shifted the car back into first gear. His breath caught in the movement, his legs still feeling like jelly from minimal use. Pricks of pain shot up their length, while the car slowly began to roll through the small town. Gus stood out in front of his shop, giving the pair a small wave and smile as they passed. Rory sighed. “He asked for a favor, though. Gotta meet up with him Sunday.”

Haven’s focus remained on Rory’s discomfort even as she rolled her shoulders to appease her own. She had to glance out of the filmy rear window to get a look at the man who must have sold them their ride, having missed him when they first passed by.

“I wish the women in this town were the same way.” She mused as her head turned back to face him. “I met a few of our neighbors today. Seems our story holds up well among the housewives.”

“Is this favor… something simple? He didn’t ask you to go hunting, did he?”

A small smile flashed across Rory's face at the suggestion, though his eyes remained fixed on the road as they turned onto the road out of town. “I think he knew it would have been more trouble than it's worth.” He shifted the car as he sped up a bit down the country road to find their turnoff. “He just wants me to attend a meeting after the Sunday service. I figure it might help to know more locals.” Rory turned his gaze briefly towards Haven, a devilish grin spreading across his lips. “It's a big price to pay, given how I would prefer to spend that afternoon.”

He looked back towards the treeline, downshifting as he spotted their turn. Pavement gave way to gravel, and it became really apparent how bad the suspension was. Rory slowed the car to a stop, tilting his head slightly. “Haven… do you know how to drive?”

“Hmm?” Haven’s eyebrows rose.

Her mind was currently occupied, her teeth grazing her bottom lip while her eyes were busy moving over his toned arms. She blinked as the question registered, and immediately looked his way with a grin that told him she’d been caught thinking about just how she’d spend that afternoon with him.

“No, I…” The grin faded quickly as she cleared her throat and shifted herself so that she was angled towards him. Her hand rose from her lap to tuck her fly aways behind her left ear. “I’ve sat in the driver's seat a few times, and I know which is the gas and which is the brake, but I’ve never made the car move.”

“Ok… well, that's about half the battle… let's start with this.” Rory was surprisingly focused, lowering his hands to shift himself in the seat as far left as he could, beckoning Haven to slide over. He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth as he eyed over the truck, his mind circling back to days he had nearly forgotten. He glossed over the profanity and condescension, trying to remember the bits that stuck and helped him.

“This is a manual, so there's two extra things to keep track of. The clutch is on the left here.” Rory's left foot tapped a pedal Haven was certainly unfamiliar with. “You'll need to press on this whenever you want to shift gears with this.” Rory's right hand rested on the gearshift, nestled up underneath the old radio on a small console of its own. “It takes some getting used to… but-” Rory's eyes drifted back towards Haven for a moment, words catching in his throat. He simply cleared it, waving a hand. “Let's swap. Road is empty out here, it's perfect for practice.”

Haven’s brows rose where she now sat beside Rory in the seat. She’d looked over the extra parts needed to drive the truck as he explained and couldn’t help but feel apprehensive. She didn’t even know why gears needed to shift to get the car in motion.

Still, she gave Rory a nod when he suggested they swap places. Her body shifted to push the grocery bags further into the passenger seat first so he would have more space in the middle. Without even considering getting out of the vehicle to come to the driver’s side door, Haven instead chose to lift her butt off of the seat to allow him space to take her spot. While he moved, she leaned herself backwards over his lap until she was sitting in the driver’s spot. Her legs then lifted over his to place themselves by the break and gas.

“So,” she began as her hands reached to run themselves over the steering wheel. She looked under the wheel as she tested her sneaker against each of the flat pedals at her feet. The engine revved as she put pressure on the gas pedal, which made her hands tense on the wheel like she’d expected the truck to lurch forward in response. When it didn’t, she released a breathy chuckle and looked his way as she placed her foot back on the flooring. “I’m guessing I can’t just hit the gas and go? Do I have to shift the gears first?”

Her right foot moved to tap the clutch, while her hand drifted to rest on the ball at the top of the metal stick she didn’t know the name for.

“No, that’s-” Rory caught himself before he chided her, and an amused grin spread as Haven looked at him with innocent confusion. “I’ll go over it again, just… take your foot off of the clutch.”



Late into the evening, Haven sat curled up in the rocking chair as Rory prepped the fire for the night. Outside, the branches of the trees swayed by the hands of the late autumn breeze blowing in. Her gaze drifted between the stars that poked through the leaves outside, the sight of Rory’s frame illuminated by the firelight, and the sketchbook that rested in her hands. She leafed through it carefully, like it was something ancient and precious. As if one wrong move would tear the page or smudge the art that her father had left behind.

If she hadn’t been in such a good mood after Rory successfully taught her how to make it up the driveway, she wouldn’t have reached for the reminder of heartache and loss. These pages held memories of a family she’d never had. A family that had been broken apart by tragedy. Still, the man that left it behind had poured so much emotion into each drawing. She could see the love he had for his children, for his wife, for the home they had shared. It was strange, though, to look upon the sketch of herself sitting outside of that orphanage. She couldn’t see what he’d been feeling when he put the lead to paper. Maybe she just didn’t want to.

She moved on from the page before it hurt to look any longer, continuing to turn through memories that she’d been fated to never experience.

Soon the pages came to rest on a new portrait. A folded piece of paper slipped out of the sketchbook and into her lap suddenly, but it was quickly forgotten as her eyes scanned every feature etched into the paper. Haven felt her heart stutter. The woman on the page was not a part of Harper’s family. It was a face both familiar and foreign to Haven, and it left her breathless.

This woman had bottle blonde hair. Her natural dirty blonde roots grew out of her skull like grass, as if she hadn’t been taking care of the color. Her face was slim, her cheeks slightly hollowed, and small dark patches rested under her weary eyes. Haven knew that the gray lead of her irises was meant to be a brown, the color of the bark on a sugar maple tree. The light that had shined within them, long ago, was not represented in the dull shading that surrounded a black pupil.

The woman on the page had known love, had given it freely to the one she considered precious, worked long hours and late nights to make ends meet, had overcome so much just to lose it all in one fleeting moment. She’d felt the loss of a loved one and the heartache of knowing that she had tried her best to keep them, and it hadn’t been enough.

She’d been Haven’s entire world. Her protector, her home, her joy, her teacher, her constant in a life that moved too fast, and the ground beneath her feet.

Her mother.

Haven traced a featherweight finger over the outline of her cheek. Memories flickered in her mind like candlelight of soft skin, the smell of hairspray and bleach, and a glimpse of dimples that framed a soft smile. Little things that Haven had clung to as her childhood faded from memory.

Her gaze dropped to the paper in her lap, then, and she felt her heart constrict.

Why did James Baxter have a sketch of her mother? Had he met with her after he’d decided not to bring Haven home? What did they talk about, reuniting so long after their affair had produced a daughter, and how did they feel when they both parted to become strangers again?

Haven let the sketchbook rest against her knees as her hands reached for the folded parchment. There was no name scrawled on the blank surface, no indication of what was hidden between the two ends. Curiosity urged her to open it but her heart wasn’t sure if she was ready to. Her thumb slid between the crease and rested there for a few heartbeats, before she gripped each side and smoothed it out in front of her.

She’d guessed it was a letter, had hoped it was from her mother, but the handwriting within it had the same scrawling loops and dashes of the signature that adorned a few of the sketches in the notebook in front of her.

Her heart sank in her chest because it wasn’t what she wanted it to be. It wasn’t from her.

It all but plummeted into her stomach as she read the words that James had left behind.

It was dated after Haven had run away from the girls home. A few years before the accident that would claim his life. Even if he wasn’t sure Haven would ever read it, James wanted someone to know her story. To understand the strange connection between James Baxter and Mary Barnes. How that connection had brought Haven into the world.

It wasn’t at all what Harper, even Sierra, guessed it to be.

Haven herself couldn’t even begin to comprehend it. The paper bent and crumpled between her hands. Tears pricked at the corner of her eyes, but frustration held them back like a dam to a reservoir at capacity. It felt like he was telling the truth, but none of it made any sense. None of it seemed fair.

But when did life ever seem fair to Haven Barnes?

The frustration melted into a sardonicism that had her shoving the note back into the sketchbook. She shut it in her lap, and quickly put it away before any more secrets could come spilling out from between its pages.

“Everything alright, Dove?” Rory’s voice approached her where she crouched by the bed.

The concern those sky blue eyes held as they glanced at the sketchbook’s hiding place instantly cracked Haven’s cynical mood. She stood from the bed to face him and attempted a smile, which held for about half of a second before it fell. With a soft sigh, she slumped onto the bed and held her hand out for him.

Rory rolled himself over to her without hesitation. Instead of taking her hand, though, he gently pulled her towards him and into his lap. Haven gratefully allowed it, even positioned herself so that most of her weight rested where it would hurt the least as her wings shifted against her to avoid the armrest. One of his hands cradled her head against his shoulder, while she felt the other wrap around her to gently caress her arm.

“It’s hard… looking through his things.” Her soft murmur was laced with disappointment.

His hand squeezed her arm gently, and she felt a kiss pressed against her forehead. Her eyelids, heavy with the mix of emotions that kept her from saying any more, soon lowered until she closed her eyes. His comforting touch said more than any words could have conveyed. Everything was right with the world when he held her like this.

She listened to the beating of his heart, slowed her breathing until hers matched its rhythm, and allowed it to lull her into peace. The crackling of the fire was the only sound besides the soft symphony of the forest outside.

Except when she finally took a breath and prepared to tell him what she’d learned, a chill ran up the length of her spine to ruffle her feathers as the world outside of the cabin fell eerily silent. Even the fire seemed to hold its breath. Nature itself understood that a predator lurked in the darkness outside.

Haven lifted her head from Rory’s shoulder to peer out of the windows. Her brows twitched, a line presenting itself between them.

Something was wrong.

The townsfolk, H.E.L.P., Hyperion’s Children, the monster, Daedalus … Whatever it could be, it didn’t belong in the forest.

“Rory… I don’t think we’re alone.”

Rory’s grip tightened on her like he wished that their moment of serenity could have lasted forever. The two shared a look, sky blues and golds and greens meeting to express the fears that they had hoped to never experience again. Haven dipped her chin once in a nod.

“Stick to the plan?” His expression shifted into the hardened man that Haven had only seen a few times in their relationship as he asked the question. This man would go to any length to keep the people he loved safe from harm. The first time she’d seen it had worried her, but now… This part of Rory gave her the courage to match it.

“Stick to the plan.”

Haven moved out of his lap with haste, and knelt down next to the bed once more. From underneath it she retrieved his duffle and her backpack. Both of them stuffed with only the essentials so that their weight wouldn’t affect their escape. She kept herself low to the ground as she moved to the front door, dumping the bags by the door as she grabbed their shoes.

Rory, on the other hand, rolled himself back over to the fireplace. He reached for the iron poker, like he had a week earlier, and then for the cane he’d bought off of Gus. By the time he’d done this, Haven was knelt at his feet and already reaching to secure his shoes onto them.

Her fingers moved efficiently, but the slight shake to her hands suggested that panic had already begun to creep into her mind.

“Good thing we haven’t stripped yet.”

Her joke was the only indication that her fear would not win tonight.

“Jacket and keys next, Haven.”

The command came across like a soft reminder.

Haven was grateful for it. She hastily secured her own sneakers onto her bare feet in response. She’d forgotten to grab them while she was by the door. The mistake was swiftly rectified, her trembling hands tucking the truck’s keys into his jacket pocket on her return. Rory was standing when she made it back to him, and the two looked into each other’s eyes as they both worked Rory’s arms into the outer layer.

“I love you, Rory Tyler.”

“I love you, Dove.”

No sooner had the words left his mouth, Haven was reaching for him, pulling him as close as she could get him, and Rory did the same. Their kiss was passionate, desperate, longing, as if they weren’t sure they would ever get to have a moment like this again. Neither of them wanted to let go, to risk the separation from the other. Haven wished they had more time. They could have been happy here, until the end of their days.

When they finally broke the kiss, Rory held her close for one more moment as they both caught their breath.

“Promise me you’ll run if it’s him.”

Haven looked up at him, her expression shifting to express her refusal, but Rory cut her off.

“I’m not asking, Dove.” His stern tone was contrasted by the gentle way his hand caressed her cheek.

Her eyes flitted between his, desperate to refuse him again, but the pleading look in his eyes convinced her otherwise. She nodded, even if she wasn’t sure she’d ever truly be capable of leaving him behind. She’d claw her way back to him if they were ever separated again.

The two kissed once more, soft and rushed, before Rory grabbed the cane from the table and took up a position by the front door. Haven reached for the iron poker on the table before she took her place by the only other entrance to the cabin.

Her clammy hands tightened their grip on the iron. Her heartbeat was steadily rising, along with her temperature. She could only pray that another growth spurt would wait until tomorrow. That she could get a grip on herself long enough to survive until then.

The couple shared one last look as they waited for the thing that lurked outside to make its move.

This time they weren’t going quietly.



Monday, April 14th, 23:45

En Route, 13 Mourningdove Lane


Emmeline Longwell was no stranger to late nights. She'd grown quite familiar with them over her years as a student, whether they were spent curled up with a book in hand or tediously leaning over her desk as she finished assignments. She would much rather be doing either at the moment, yet her curiosity and worries held her hostage as the driver took her past the town's limits and towards a destination she was not sure she wanted to reach.

Her gaze was firmly locked on the rolling landscape as she gazed out of the passenger side window. The all too familiar feeling of motion sickness had settled in her stomach like lead since the drive began, along with the anxiety that had nested there since the letter arrived. The feeling would only worsen if she dared to check how much further they had to go, and so her gloved hands twisted impatiently in her lap while her mind wandered.

There had been plenty of moments in Emmy's life when it felt like the ground had been swept out from beneath her feet. Only one moment could compare to the feeling that had washed over her in a dizzying wave when she'd read the contents of that mysterious missive. The inexplicable events of the last week had all but been wrapped up in a neat little bow, with only a few words to tie it.

Before today, she'd blamed it on her illness, on the whimsical book she'd been reading, and even assumed that perhaps her body's weaknesses had finally claimed her mind as well. There'd been times when her vision had ebbed in and out of clarity, and so she assumed that the sudden differences between the objects she'd unknowingly affected had been a trick of her syndrome.

All of those theories were plausible, rational, and yet the moment the word magic had run through her mind, she felt the presence of it course through her body, flow through the air around her, consume the paper she'd barely finished reading and turn it to dust, falling through the fingers of time to collect at her feet.

Emmeline, I hope this letter finds you at the right time.

The past cannot change, but you are exactly where you need to be. Magic can turn the hands of time, and now you are the key. You've felt it in every passing moment, ticking on like the hands of a clock. You are one of the first mages in five hundred years. Bring your open mind and I will give you all of the information you need.

13 Mourningdove Lane. Midnight.

-The Archivist"

Her mother had read fables to her as a child of a world that lived in magic and fantasy. That the people had wielded it as easily as the air they breathed. Their bodies graced with a power that allowed them to do impossible things, wonderful things. That one day, long ago, that source of power had been taken from them and those once gifted were left mundane.

If this Archivist was speaking the truth, then Emmy could only guess that they knew why the magic had been taken. That they were somehow aware of why the magic had returned, aware of who had been given it's power a week ago-- aware of her. It was as unsettling to consider as it was intriguing.

She struggled to believe that she was one of the gifted. Though her heart had accepted it easily, her mind grappled with the truth. How could she compare to those in the fables, who were written to have had seamless control of their power? The thin black gloves that seemed to hold her magic at bay since she'd donned them earlier that evening were answer enough. She could control her diet, she could control her studies, she could control her mind, and yet there were two things she had no control of. The magic she'd been given seemed to be as afflicting as her disordered body.

Perhaps that was why she didn't ask the driver to turn around when they approached their destination. The darkness of the mansion should have been foreboding, and yet Emmy felt determination rising to overpower the apprehension.

The car stopped at the entrance to large, iron gates. Their open maw an invitation to enter. Though the driver offered to drop her closer to it's entrance, Emmy was already reaching for the doorhandle. She could already see two others entering through the ornate double doors at the front, and it only made her curiosity grow. Had they gotten letters, too?

Her request for the driver to wait nearby was spoken in an absentminded murmur as she watched the mansion swallow the strangers up like it had eaten them. She swung her legs out of the car slowly, ensuring that each boot was planted in the gravel, before she used the car door to pull herself onto her feet. The mansion swam in her vision for just a moment, but solidified as she shut the door behind her and started through the gates.

Her hands ran over her skirt to smooth it down as she walked. She ran over the questions she had in mind for this meeting, and managed to narrow them down to just a few by the time she approached the home. Her heart was already racing, and she wasn't sure if it was the nerves or because of the brisk pace she'd taken to get there. Either way, she took a breath to calm it as her eyes looked over the carvings placed in the wood before her. Her head tilted to the side to study it, but before she could ponder on the age of the doors they sensed her presence. Their panels swung open wide on their own volition, allowing her entry into the unknown.

Emmy didn't even blink. Of course the doors were magic as well.

With no time to spare, and a lifted chin and squared shoulders, Emmy took the first steps into the mansion. She knew it was time for the meeting to start without even a glance at her watch.
I tried to find a dark academia esque blondie, but I'd already chosen auburn before the other sheets were submitted and the search wasn't going well. Consider Emmy a redhead for the plot lol



Location: Home - Debolt, Alberta, Canada
Human: #5.069 I’d Love You Without Any Wings Attached

Interaction(s): N/A
Previously: Growing Vanes


The crackling of fire in the hearth was gentle as it reached Haven’s ears. Daylight warmed her bare skin where she laid across the bed. Her head rested flat against the mattress. Rory’s firm chest had been replaced by the cotton sheets beneath her.

Sleep had fallen onto her like a heavy blanket last night. No nightmare touched her in her peaceful sleep. If she’d had any dreams, she couldn’t recall them. Her mind felt rested and at ease; her body languid and loose throughout. A stark contrast to the usual tension she held in her shoulders and back since coming to the cabin. She hadn’t even felt Rory leave the bed, she realized, as her hand splayed open to search for him beside her.

Her eyes opened slowly, blinking once as they adjusted to the bright light streaming through the window. Outside the sun shone down through the yellow and green treetops. The forest wall was brightly illuminated by the afternoon light, save for the few shadows the branches and leaves cast on the ground beneath them. She’d slept longer than she expected to. As if her body was catching up on weeks of interrupted sleep, exhausting days of travel, and an eventful night of growth and rekindled passion.

The sound of wheels rolling over wood caught her attention then, soon followed by the soft clinking of silverware in the sink. It brought a smile to her face to hear Rory moving within the cabin. It grew wider as she remembered the feel of him last night, and the words that they’d shared with each other before she had closed her eyes.

Had he heard her say them? Did the admission carry him into the same blissful rest that had come over her?

Haven roused from her position on the bed to go to him, to remind him of those words. Only for her muscles to ache and protest the movement in a reminder of the display of her hype gene so many hours ago. She groaned softly as she sat upright. Her legs shifted to hang off the side of the bed. Before she even dared to stand, her hands moved to rub at her sore shoulders and back. The muscles there had taken the brunt of the development. In an effort to test the pain, she stretched out her arms and wings beside her. Her eyes fell shut as she felt the shifting of her muscles beneath the integument. Her small wings weighed heavily on her back; their muscles fully developed for their size but not yet trained to hold themselves up naturally. She’d have to work on honing them like she’d done many years ago. Which, she could only hope, would be a lot easier this time. Her feathered limbs returned to lazily rest at her back as she ran her fingers through her messy hair.

She’d gotten enough sleep to rest her mind, but it seemed like her body needed more time to recover. The thought sparked the usual million questions within her mind. Questions that wanted to ruin the happiness of last night and the quiet of this morning. Questions that would make the tension return in her shoulders.

Rory called her over for lunch, then, having noticed she was awake. His voice easily calmed her mind. She stood from the bed, moving to pull on a clean shirt and underwear, and was surprised to find that the dirt was gone from the floors already. She looked Rory’s way, and her smile returned as her heart warmed. Her worries faded into the back of her mind. The ache in her muscles dulled with each step she took to get to him. Her gaze turned to two plates he set on the table, each of them adorned with a sandwich and a pile of chips. A pang of hunger hit her in her stomach like a fist and her stomach growled in response.

A sheepish grin formed on her lips as Haven looked back to Rory, which seemed to be contagious as he gave her a goofy grin in return. The sight distracted her from her hunger, easily. She leaned down to greet him with a gentle kiss upon his lips. Her hands lifted to rest on his broad shoulders, and she soon felt his fingers graze her hips. The sensation that spread across her skin had her kissing him deeper. His hand firmly took hold of her hip now as the other moved to push her hair back from her face, gently pushing it to the back of her neck where he pulled her further into the kiss. She moved closer to him on instinct. Her hands squeezed his shoulders as she lifted one knee and rested it beside his leg. All thoughts consumed by his touch, by the need to get closer to him as she felt a different type of hunger take hold of her.

Her stomach growled louder, as if it was annoyed by the delay.

Their kiss was broken by soft laughter, the two lovers taking a deep breath as they reigned in their desires to focus on the meal. Rory positioned his wheelchair at the head of the table while Haven took the seat catty-corner to him. She wasted no time pulling the plate closer to her. Her fingers took the soft bread into hand and she tried her best to eat it slowly.

It was a simple sandwich, with mayo, a slice of cheese, and two slices of sweet ham placed between white bread. Somehow, to Haven’s current appetite, it tasted like heaven on her tongue. She had always thought that sandwiches taste better when someone else made them for her, anyways. So she happily ate it, and took her time eating the chips as Rory finished his lunch.

She thanked Rory for lunch by crawling into his lap.

Haven brought in more wood for the fire as Rory cleaned up the mess from lunch. Rory finished before her, of course, because she’d gotten distracted by the beauty of the fall colors outside. The forest seemed to call to her now, more than it ever had before. She brought in more than wood, having gathered a few lingering blooms among the aspens and pines. She cut them small, and placed them in the tallest glass with a bit of water at the bottom. One particular flower stood taller than the rest, resembling a paintbrush that reminded her of her sister.

Harper.

She wondered if anyone had answered her texts yet as she sat at the table, admiring the flowers she’d brought in. If they truly didn’t have service at the cabin, she’d have to wait until she went into town to find out. Aurora surely would have texted back by now, but Harper? She wasn’t even sure if there was a cell signal beneath the waters of the Atlantic. How could she know that Harper was safe there? That anyone that had chosen to go to The Foundation were welcomed with open arms?

Rory’s touch on her shoulder brought her back to the present. As if he’d seen the way her face fell and thought to pull her out of the darkness of them. She turned to him, offering a small smile, before she distracted herself from what had been bothering her by suggesting they tackle the laundry. Thankfully, he accepted the deflection.

Hand-washing laundry wasn’t new to Haven. She may not have done it right when she lived on her own, but she never let her clothes get entirely filthy. For Rory, though, it was a new experience. Haven sat on the edge of the tub as it filled, smiling at her partner where he placed himself in the same spot as last night. Each of them thinking of what they’d done together in the bath the night before, and trying their best to focus on the chore instead of the temptation to recreate it. She started scrubbing with him, sharing the story of the first time she’d washed her own clothes in a cabin similar to this one. Once they’d gotten through enough clothes, Haven carried the damp fabric out to the hearth where she hung them on the chairs and laid them on the table to dry by the heat of the fire. In between trips she’d linger to place a kiss on Rory’s forehead, or his lips, or allow their hands to wander across each other as the tension between them grew.

By the time they finished, the sun was setting. Haven made grilled cheese sandwiches for dinner. One of her specialties, she explained to him. It had always been a cheap and easy meal to make, for both her mother and herself when she was younger. The two ate together by the fire. She’d pulled the rocking chair over to face him, with her feet resting on the space between his legs as the two enjoyed the cheesy meal.

Haven cleaned the dishes while Rory ran another round of hot water for their bath. They repeated the routine of last night, the two of them undressing each other with tender kisses and wandering hands. As Haven lowered herself into the tub once more, she was gently surprised by Rory’s hands against the skin of her back and not her feathers. He massaged the sore muscles with firm ministrations that had Haven melting into the water. Soon his hands were replaced by a soapy washcloth, as he washed away the day’s sweat for her. She turned around when he finished. Her hand took the cloth from his and she set to treating him to the same luxury he’d afforded her.

They managed to make it to the bed before the tension broke between them. The lovers exchanged those three wonderful words many, many times, before their shared exhaustion pulled them under.


Location: Elysium Island
Interactions:Lily, Ruby, etc. @Mixtape Ghost N



The black hairpin, now holding the power of a titanic apparition within it, was carefully tucked into the pocket of her skirt as Liz listened to the cheering of the others. She would have felt their joy, but her mind was still trying to wrap itself around the fact that she’d even managed to seal it in the first place.

Her body, which had buzzed with raw energy only moments ago, now felt almost hollow as she returned to her natural state of being. Her disappointment in her own strength flashed briefly on her face until she felt the dreaded woman’s arms wrap around her in a celebratory embrace. This time it wasn’t as awkward as before, and yet Liz didn’t return the hug as she looked up to the amplifier with her lips spread in a half-smile as she heard Broseidon compliment her work.

She’d just successfully sealed an apparition on her own. Lyss would have been cheering too, if she were here.

The bittersweet thought only lasted a moment before the air on the island sent a chill down her spine. She immediately frowned, knowing something was up before that something came into existence. Her head turned to survey the field, preparing herself for another attack, before the sound of water crashing onto sand drew her attention towards the island’s small beach.

Just beyond the sand, the sea began to convulse where an unnatural mass of black and purple emerged from the depths. Liz stared at the energy with wide eyes, somehow knowing that this was the work of the necromancer that had summoned a horde of undead to do their bidding, and couldn’t control the inferiority she felt gurgling in her stomach at the sight of what he summoned.

Her body tensed as yellowed bone emerged from the water bit by horrifyingly large bit. She took a step back as only a hand emerged, realizing just how big this undead was going to be with a small gasp as it continued to rise and rise from the ocean. Her head tilted back, back, back to follow the empty sockets that glowed with an unnatural light as it rose to full height. She could hardly hear the Holy Fuck! that her thoughts shouted, let alone the words of the dreaded woman beside her, as it released a roar that shook her bones.

Get rid of that? How?

The best she could offer was to give it something to fight until they could escape from this hellish island and get far, faar away from both the skeleton and the black lux user that had summoned it. Even if she knew how to banish the black lux freak, it would take about two or three of herself to do so even with the amplifier’s help.

The skeleton stomped its feet, and Liz felt the ground beneath her tremble. The roar shook her to her core once more. Her body was telling her to run and yet she was stuck in place. Her mary janes frozen to the ground by the awe and horror of what she was facing. The adrenaline left by the power boost was replaced by an unsettled feeling in her chest. Not quite fearful, but also not confident in her own ability to stop the skeleton before it unleashed itself on them.

She really needed to get her hands on the Burns Spellbook if she was going to face a strong magic user like this again.

“I need another boost–”

Her request was cut short as the colossal undead plunged for the island. She reached for the amplifier’s arm to pull her backwards, desperate to keep her only hope of stopping the skeleton from being crushed by its bony fists, but she didn’t make it before the fists impacted the dense sand of the beach with a sudden boom.

The island jerked beneath her feet with the powerful blow. Liz, already weak in the knees with shock, lost her balance and found herself falling the short distance between her full height and the earth. She landed right on her ass as her hands hit the grass behind her to keep her from tumbling further.

“Hound, save us!” She blurted out, her composure shattering for a moment. She couldn’t believe she was still alive. That the skeleton had aimed just short of them. She knew they didn’t have much time left.

“Boost me, now!” She shouted to the dreaded woman as she scrambled to her knees. “I’ll give it something to fight while we get the fuck out of here.”

Her palms pressed into the earth, crystal blue eyes filled with an instinctual need to fight or flight already closing as she prepared herself to summon the largest golem possible with the energy that the amplifier would provide. Hopefully soon.

Otherwise she would surely meet the Hound before she was ready.


Location: Elysium Island
Interactions:Lily, Ruby, etc. @Mixtape Ghost N



Liz blew her sigh of relief out through her nose the moment that the group’s amplifier spoke up. Her faux confidence had already started to crumble under the other woman’s narrowed gaze. As the dreaded woman began walking her way, she felt her shoulders straighten with a newfound determination. She nodded as her eyes locked with the amplifier.

“I’ll take care of it.” She had to, or they really were all going to be cooked.

She hadn’t expected the dreaded woman to embrace her. Her expression went from determined to downright awkward for just a moment as she allowed herself to be engulfed in a stranger’s arms. Her body only relaxed the moment she figured that the woman needed total contact to use her abstraction. She took a breath, sent a prayer to the Hound that she would succeed, and braced for the power boost.

The power flowed endlessly and lit up every nerve in Liz’s body in a dull flame. She gasped softly as her entire being filled with raw, magical energy. It was strangely addictive, in a way that Liz knew would overwhelm her quickly if she didn’t dispose of it before it consumed her. She watched in awe as their skeletons glowed within them like an x-ray image, her eyes widening just so.

For a moment, she wondered what the hell she’d gotten herself into. Would she be able to handle the power? Would her few lessons in sealing apparitions be enough to prove herself to this coven?

She thought of the times that Lyss showed her the spells she’d learned from their grandmother. How Lyss had explained them to her, and even gave her a few lessons of her own. Lyss had believed in her, and that’s all that mattered now.

Her confidence skyrocketed just as she felt the energy in her body reach a heightened state. As the woman pulled back from her, Liz lifted her arms in front of her as if she could see the magic running through her veins.

It was power she’d never felt before. A power that could easily burn her as much as it could make her into the woman she was working towards being. She wondered if Lyss had ever felt power like this before.

Her head lifted to look the dreaded woman in the eyes, then she looked at the woman who had scrutinized her.

“Leave it to me.” She began before turning to face the apparition. Her steps began to carry her towards it, each movement teetering between control and chaos with the energy flowing within her. She reached a good point in front of the apparition and aimed her palms towards it. The energy within her began to transfer to her channeler, flowing rapidly, nearly at a dangerous rate.

“I’m Liz Burns, by the way.” She tossed over her shoulder.

Her icy blue eyes bore into the apparition with an intensity they’d never displayed before. A translucent veil of black energy began to emanate from her, spreading out, around, and above the titanic apparition until it was completely surrounded. She held her breath as she focused on her spell, held onto the feeling that Lyss had guided her towards many years ago, and felt her muscles tense as she held onto the control that was keeping the energy within her from burning her out.

She expelled that energy, encasing the magma monster in a trap that it couldn’t escape from, and focused the raw magic on keeping it there as one hand lowered to reach into her pocket and pull out a large hairpin that ended in a black rose from within it. She held it out in her palm facing the sky, and transferred most of the flow of magic into that hand. Her free hand shook slightly with the power granted to her as it threatened to overwhelm her, but she gained control by curling it into a fist and dragging it towards the hairpin in her palm.

As her fist moved, the veil around the apparition began to shrink around it and drag it towards her. It forced the apparition to shrink, its lava and rock exterior crunching and sloshing within it as it fought against her spell. Her amplified state was no match for it, and it lost the battle as it was sucked into the hairpin within a second’s time. The hairpin trembled as Liz squeezed it between her hands, finalizing her sealing spell, putting every ounce of the raw energy into it to ensure that it was successful. The hairpin glowed with a black aura within her hand before returning to its original state.

The hand that held the hairpin trembled as the adrenaline finally hit her. She ran her other hand through her hair, and pulled it forwards as she inspected the new streak of white that hadn’t been there before. This one was thicker than the rest, and she figured it was thanks to the power boost that more of her black strands had lost their color.

“Well, that was intense.” She breathed, honestly just thankful that she hadn’t lost control, and tapped her cheek just to make sure it had been real before turning back to the group behind her. Her gaze found the dreaded woman. A brief smile crossed her pale features as she gestured towards her with the pin in hand. “Thanks for the boost. Really came in handy.”

Not sure how I handled it, but thank the Hound I did.
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