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Multiple Settings Alumni of the Arcane || IC

hotsauce

hotsauce

chat is this real





















  • intro






























    always forever



    cults

























    setting the scene.



    L
    Welcome to the first official Amithis Society event of the school year! The scent of crisp autumn leaves fill the air and the temperatures are slowly dropping, heralding the start of a new school year as students flock to their separate engagements on a moonlit Friday night. A night of mythic proportions, the annual welcome back masquerade ball has fallen on Friday the 13th of October, but is that a bad omen or simply a coincidence?

    The magic in the air runs high, but tensions from previous years run higher as the new and returning members of the Amithis Society gather for a grand masquerade ball, side by side with a few alumni from previous years, faculty (well, mostly just Dr. Whitlock), and visiting casters who get to experience campus life. They have to behave themselves for now, knowing that in a couple of short hours the non-students will be off, leaving the students themselves to a night of enchantment, excitement, and potential debauchery as the Society members are left to their own devices.

    New friendships are formed, and old bonds are tested. Regardless of how you feel about those around you, the ball is a revered tradition that you don't want to spoil--or do you? As the night goes on, who knows what might happen--and what might be revealed.































intro



events








cast with care,



these are forces
beyond your understanding








time



8:00 pm, 1600h







date



13th October, 2024







location



Oak Grove Conservatory Ballroom







status



closed











cs





lore





ooc

















♡coded by uxie♡
 


















Aurora "Rory" Feng



@
its.rory








































  • 00:42






    casual



    chappell roan










    20:01

    :
    Rory


    new !




    Study buddies?







    19:37

    :
    insta


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    EDDIE
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the world



Rory clasped her hands in front of her, glancing out at the crowd. This was it. Her official speech as the current student leader of the Amithis Society. She cast a glance at Dorian Whitlock, the current faculty advisor of the Society, wishing that he would take matters into his own hands for once instead of letting the student president and vice president handle everything. He really was annoying that way, insistent that she get “hands on experience” (as if Rory was mad about getting more power; it was more of an irk that Dr.Whitlock should try harder at his job). But there weren’t just students out there currently–alumni and a couple of visiting casters were waiting in the crowd as well. She took a deep breath before beginning, glancing down at the cue cards she was clutching in her hands. Luckily, she had tested the microphone earlier to ensure that it was working.

She leaned into the microphone stand slightly, trying to keep the nerves at bay. The crowd wasn’t terribly large, perhaps fifty people at most including the students, alumni, and visiting casters. At least everyone had gotten the hint and dressed nice. Her own dress and makeup felt almost like armor in a way; dressing well had always served to help her feel more in control. And right now, the group was waiting for her to speak.

“Thank you for all attending the Amithis Society’s yearly welcome ball,” she said, glad that her nerves didn’t show through her voice. “To those new to the Society, welcome to the most interesting organization you’ll ever join, and we cannot wait to teach you about the fascinating world of magic. To those returning this year, remember to keep a polite demeanor so we can demonstrate the sophistication of the Society to the newcomers.” Well, at least until the alumni and faculty left early, as was tradition; she made sure to show the unspoken sentiment in her eyes but not her voice. In a couple of hours, the students could do as they pleased without the fear of getting in trouble over it. For the most part, Rory would be turning a blind eye to any possible debauchery that she knew was to come, assuming that no one got seriously hurt or did anything expulsion-worthy. “Last year was certainly a momentous year for the Amitihis Society. Our students made great strides in practical application of magic, and one of the seniors who graduated last year was even recruited to help with groundbreaking research on the topic of abjuration.” Momentous was one word for it, certainly. She only let the frown slide briefly across her face before plastering a pleasant expression on it as she continued.

“I am pleased to be the one serving as your student Society president this year, with Bellamy Hemingsworth as your vice president. If you need anything, the two of us are the people to talk to.” As she spoke his name, Rory gestured in Bellamy’s direction so the newbies would be able to see who she was talking about, though he had been present at the initiation ceremony as well, watching the students give their oaths and blood to bind them. She wouldn’t have chosen anyone else as the vice president, certain that he would live up to the role. “Our first official Society meeting for the year–well, first including the newbies, at least–will be held on October 19th, which is just under a week from today. Everyone’s attendance is expected. More information to come by way of your cards, so keep an eye out.” By this, she meant it would appear written on the back, replacing the original invitation to the Society with an easy bit of illusion magic. It was important for members to keep their original cards for this reason, or they were prone to missing important information. But they were certainly old enough to keep track of their belongings; they were college students, after all. However, it wasn’t as if a fair number of cards had been re-created for those absent-minded enough to lose them.

“As for magic classes and tutoring sessions, those will be discussed during the meeting. If you want to schedule a tutoring session with a specific person, feel free to seek them out to discuss it. In the meantime, we can all enjoy each other’s company, the refreshments, and the music.” She smiled out at the guests before closing her brief opening statements. Though Rory could be said to be a very sociable person, she didn’t love public speaking, so she kept her speech short and to the point. “Once again, congratulations to the new members and welcome back to the returning members. It’s coming to be a great year! If you need anything at all, don’t hesitate to come to me about it, and have a lovely evening, everyone. You deserve it.” Well, most of you, she couldn’t help but think as she saw Mallory out of the corner of her eye. But she was poised enough not to show her disdain on her face.

After she finished her speech, Rory left the microphone, walking over to where Bellamy stood with a relieved sigh. At least that was done and she could try to enjoy herself now. “Thank god I’m done with public speaking for the night,” she sighed, glancing at him. “Now all we have to do is make sure everyone else keeps it together in front of the adults.” Well, she knew they were technically adults as well, but she figured he knew what she meant. University students and adult adults seemed to be two different things at times, and this event was one of those times for sure. Rory suspected she wouldn’t truly relax until she knew that no one was planning anything particularly stupid tonight, and she figured Bellamy was well aware of that fact. He shared her job of ensuring order here, after all. She took a deep breath, trying to roll the tension out of her shoulders. This would be a good night.








♡coded by uxie♡
 
Last edited:


















vincent wynn



@
vinnyoncanvas








































  • 00:42






    lost the game



    two feet










    8:19

    :
    _MALLORYSRIGHT


    10 hours ago!




    This information could've been more useful TWO HOURS AGO, Vincent.







    16:03

    :
    INSTA


    now !




    Mallory
    liked your photo.










    !












!




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the emperor.



Vincent found the affair of a welcoming ball tedious. Sleeping seemed the better choice, but that was an affair in and of itself. With a slow exhale, blowing the smoke from his lungs skyward, he strolls the grounds of Oak Grove Conservatory at a leisurely pace. He casually lets his gaze wander, searching for the faces of new initiates with an intense gaze—he had his doubts this year. The selection of students left him wavering on potentially useful to won't last a week and that day was creeping ever closer.

Alyssa Kristine de Leon was an interesting case, one Vincent intended to keep a watchful eye on. Her memory was crisp and clear, the girl intently studying the message on the back of her 'The Fool' tarot card when she starts jotting something down. He hadn't needed to push much further into the memory at all to realise her intentions: she was attempting to mimic the spell. Extremely useful, Vincent had thought as he drew his hand away from Alyssa's temple.

Imogen Myers had put up a severe mental block, guarding her secrets carefully until the final moments of his spell when he'd glimpsed into her standing by a river bank, flanked by what appeared to be her parents as they stood, huddled together and waiting for something. Her despair replaced the smoke in his lungs, an unnatural emotion he wasn't able to put a name to at first and later he'd decided on won't last a week.

For Agnes Tanner, Vincent wavered—the sight of her tear streaks down her face, looking upon the motionless body of a cat—it was a reasonable reaction, he'd cried himself as a child over dead pets before he'd come to accept reality as it was. It wasn't until he felt her guilt and shame that the missing puzzle piece clicked into place, she did this—he promptly removed his hand from her head, a smirk playing on his face. If her hands were dirtied once, they could be again. Maybe the Society was less inclined to accept someone so unpredictable, but he'd vouched for her from that moment.

With Desdemona Roth, Vincent was transported to a time on a hot summer day—he watched as a bystander, a young Mona riding her bike with her parents alongside her. A nostalgic and bittersweet taste to the memory. It showed him nothing of consequence, and maybe that was what left him conflicted. She had the potential to be useless, not bound or overruled by emotions, but also nothing at all. In any case, Vincent was somewhat relieved she'd made it into the Society—there was an air of competition rising between them and for that, he felt grateful.

Vincent skipped over Matthew-Rae Windsor altogether, recalling the memory of Mallory-Rae—twin sister of Matthew and short-lived ex of his own—how she'd reacted to the invitation printed on her own tarot card, the smirk on her face as she crumpled it. Confidence resided in her very being and it called out to his own; like calls to like, he remembers telling her, their ambitions mixing together in an overpowering feeling he would've bottled up and gotten drunk off of. He trusted her twin brother would share the sentiment.

As he approached the Ballroom, he spots the unforgettable figure of Mallory—the woman in question. He pinches the cigarette between his thumb and index, taking one last drag before crunching the remnants beneath his freshly-shined shoes. She's stressed, Vincent thought with slight amusement, aiming to distract her—despite an aversion for straying from her thoughts too long—and closes the hurriedly closes the distance as she mingles herself in with the crowd.

"Mallory, my dear," his fingers wrap around the hand holding her drink, bringing it to his mouth to take a rushed sip of the liquid. He takes in the black disjointed wires of her mask, a chaotic edge to the framing of her heart-shaped face. "Beautiful as ever. Are you aware that there's a Conjuring spell known as 'Wish'." His fingers drop to loop around her wrist loosely, giving her pulse point a small but reassuring squeeze. A soft acknowledgement of her anxiety, letting her know he's more than aware. "'Alter the very foundations of reality in accord with your desires.' Wouldn't that be nice?"

Before Vincent can say much more, Aurora takes to the metaphorical stage and launches into the welcoming speech—he throws Mallory a knowing and teasing look, another ex to hear from, lucky you, and angles his body to face where Aurora stood and demanded attention, his hand returning to his side. He listens more intently than usual, ears catching on the words, last year was certainly a momentous year for the Amithis Society, and cannot help his subtle nod. It was nothing short of eventful. Vincent adjusts the watch on his wrist, the metal on his skin a sudden and discomforting sensation.

At mention of tutoring sessions, his posture straightens and he turns his gaze down towards Mallory. If you want to schedule a tutoring session with a specific person, feel free to seek them out to discuss it. He wondered if that would shift between himself and Mallory. The nights became less boring and lonesome with her cross-legged on the leather couches with him, pouring over magical texts and practicing enchantments between them. Dare he say it, he'd become slightly addicted to those nights.

Aurora concludes her speech and Vincent turns his gaze back to the group of fifty or so students amongst them with a mask of indifference. "I'm sure you have many thoughts. What has you so wound up?"








♡coded by uxie♡


 


















Alyssa de Leon



@
lystofall








































  • 00:42






    karera



    bini










    13:21

    :
    Irenewashere


    new !




    don't forget, party starts at 9 see you tonight







    9:07

    :
    insta


    new !




    Sascha
    liked your post.










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the fool.



Alyssa shifted uncomfortably where she was standing, picking at the cloth of her long gloves. This wasn't her usual style of partying— with those, she could dress however she wanted to and barely anyone would bat an eye. Here? It felt so stuffy that it was almost too suffocating to bear.
They have to do this every year?
 Unfortunately, Alyssa hadn't even experienced attending formal events like these. She had failed to grab the chance for her friends' debut parties nor did she go to any of her high school dances, but she imagined those would still pale in comparison to this.

Much like the first time she had ever stepped foot on Oak Grove Conservatory, Alyssa felt completely out of her depth. What was the saying again? Something about Icarus flying too close to the sun? But it was mandatory attendance and she wouldn't want to disappoint as fresh blood from this society. At the very least, she knew that Sascha and Eddie were somewhere there, and Max too. Maybe Sydney would even take pity on her and let her tag along until she was much more comfortable but her roommate hadn't even arrived yet as far as she knew. Sydney was still at their room by the time Alyssa had headed off.

Aurora Feng took to the stage and the murmurs of the people attending died down. As she began speaking, Alyssa listened carefully. Huh, so this society really was doing everything under the cover of secrecy. She imagined being a researcher of magic as a thankless job, only being acknowledged by a select few people in society. Hell, when she was back at home, she barely heard of the magical strides of magicians from other countries.
So it really is a calling card. Useful. Clever.
 Alyssa couldn't help but feel pleased about her deduction. She could recall some of the elders using it to leave messages covertly but this was a lot more permanent than that. Studying it would be a pleasure and adding it to her repertoire wouldn't hurt.

Oh? They were on a tutoring basis in this group? Alyssa wasn't going to be choosy about which person she was going to get some tutoring from. They all seemed like they were capable magicians and she was eager to absorb whatever they could throw at her. Finally, she would be able to advance her magic. No, finally she could use it again. But first, she needed to live through this ball.

There was a rush of relief in her when she realized that none of the older people here knew her. Though, there was a small twinge of disappointment when she realized that her sponsor wasn't in the crowd either— she was sure he was part of the Society. Why else would he have known she was a magician? She shook her head. That didn't quite matter now. Better he was away than here. His presence might just tip people off of her whereabouts and that was not something she wanted to deal with.

God, I need a drink.


A little bit of a buzz wouldn't impair her decision-making in regards to magic, but it would be enough to keep her thoughts firmly on the night.

Alyssa began to wander around the ballroom, avoiding most of the interactions by ducking her head and hurrying god knows where. Finally, she had reached the end of the ballroom with no punch table in sight. Letting out a sigh, she took a spot near the windows to watch the party when she noticed something outside. Under the buzzing lights of the campus's outdoor lighting was a small group of students. She squinted, trying to make out if it was just a curious student trying to peek into the secretive Amithis Society. Though something was familiar with...

Sascha? And is that... couldn't be, right?
 She took another cursory glance around the ballroom before slowly, and sneakily, making her way out. She slowly navigated to where they were, ensuring she wouldn't trip over her own outfit.
"Man, it's so stuffy in there. I don't think I've ever been to a party with so many old people before."
She admitted with a huff. Alyssa knew to respect her elders but the way they looked at her, at all the students, seemed judgemental. Like they were ready to pounce at them for any sign of weakness.
"I've been trying to find the alcohol table for the past like ten minutes and I think I'm going blind."


Well, it was probably where the bulk of the people were and she did not want to deal with that alone.
"Have any plans on returning?"
She asked, eyeing the weed pen that they held onto. Were they even in any condition to go back? Surely they were.
"I wonder if we'll be left alone later... can't party properly when we're supposed to be the picture of decorum."









♡coded by uxie♡


 
Last edited:
Max Maguire
king of swords
welcome ball
unsure
outfit
mentions

hotsauce hotsauce lostbird lostbird anyasjoy anyasjoy minajesty minajesty
Max ran cold water over his face and then buried it in a paper towel. He'd made the mistake of helping set everything up for the Welcome Ball in his suit. The only concession he'd made was taking off his jacket and mask. Now, his naturally tan complexion was a little dewy and pink from getting overheated. But someone had to hang the banners off a ladder, and everyone enjoyed playing "Not it" while he wasn't there to participate. He knew they did that because he wouldn't stomp his foot and demand they reassign him. No, he'd sigh and climb up the ladder, balancing with every clumsy fiber of his being.

He readjusted the bowtie to lay flush with the collar of his white button-up. Maybe a bowtie was silly, but it was what he found in the prop closet of the drama department. That, along with the jacket, was shiny blue and cream and emulated ocean waves when the light hit it just right. He had owned the dress shirt and pants. He found some lovely black suspenders while thrifting with Lys for the rest of the outfit. The shoes were his father's. And the mask? It had been from a matching set that Theresa had found. She'd planned for them to wear these together this year. His had blue gems embedded in it, whereas hers would have had red. He looked over it, perched next to the sink, shining in the pale light of the bathroom. Max then looked back up at himself in the mirror, running a hand through his short blond-red hair and over his scruffy but well-maintained beard. He thought he looked suitable enough. He was not as fancy as many people here, but he didn't want to be fancy. He just wanted to fit in. Max pulled the jacket on, clinging tightly to his broad shoulders and falling over his chest neatly. He had no idea who in the drama club had been built similarly to him, but he was glad for it.

Max then brought the mask to his face and firmly tied the silk ribbon around his head. He then readjusted it in the mirror, only for a sharp edge of the mask to brush along his cheek. He winced. Of course, the mask would cut him. Why not? It wasn't a deep cut, so with luck, he wouldn't have to worry about blood pouring down his face. Hopefully, it wasn't indicative of how this evening would go.

He pushed through the door, went down the hall, and returned to the ballroom. He quietly entered as Rory had begun her speech. Max half listened as his eyes scanned the room. He was looking for someone, but at the same time hoped he wouldn't see him. It was so stupid. He was so stupid. You haven't spoken since you chewed his dad out in front of everyone. And honestly, did he want to talk to him? The only thing that had changed between them was the death of Theresa. That wasn't going to repair any of the damage that had been done to his heart. It was okay; Max always told himself he was made of tougher stuff. Things like that... well... it was how life was.

After Rory's speech, the music picked up again, and people began chatting and dancing again--the usual "polite society" fair.

Max pulled his jacket in and went to button it, but found the button missing. Of course, it was. He'd borrowed this from the drama department. Did he expect them to keep immaculate care of their costumes? They barely took care of their livers. Speaking of which, the pomp and circumstance around here was practically stifling. Rory had mentioned them being on their best behavior and that there would be time for festivities later, but the entire event felt like hanging wallpaper. Had the previous years been like this? In the first year, Max was wide-eyed and bushy-tailed. The second year, he'd been welcoming his sister into it. Last year, he'd had a date. He was a senior this year, and everything felt so--done. At that moment, he looked up and caught Vin looming over Mallory like an old painting of Death hanging over someone--well--not dead. He glanced away, not wanting to catch her eyes. Max doubted that Mallory wanted to speak to him, but he really did not want to chance it.

In probably the bravest move a grown-ass man the size of a doorway with two left feet could do, he took the hand of a--what he assumed to be an alumnus-- a woman and swept her onto the dance floor. She'd been anxiously hovering around the edges, and he honestly hoped that meant she'd wanted a partner. And when she didn't cuss or slap him, he was happy that he assumed correctly. Maybe this would get his mind off of things. Of course, then came the issue that he did not know how to dance. He was good as long as he didn't have to twirl and foist her into the air. It wouldn't be very "high society" to hurl an alumnus across the ballroom.
coded by natasha.

[/QUOTE]
 


















Sascha Vogel



@
midnight.gospell








































  • 00:42






    teenagers



    mcr










    13:21

    :
    Agnes


    3 hours ago !




    i'm bringing my weed pen







    9:07

    :
    insta


    new !




    Lys
    liked your post.










    !












!




details













the moon.



Sascha had no idea how Batman did it. The mask had started to scratch at his skin before he even arrived at the ball. It was more uncomfortable than he had expected—god knows how anyone could fight the Joker under such conditions—though he supposed Batman didn't buy his masks on sale at Party City. Luckily, before he even had the chance to step into the ballroom, Agnes had given him an incredibly good reason to push his mask up onto his forehead and indulge in a moment of relief.

The small group stood just outside the entrance, passing a much appreciated weed pen back and forth. He reached forward to take it between his fingers as it came around towards him again.

"Bless your soul, Agnes,"
Sascha said with the sincere gratitude of a starving man being offered a five course meal.
"I'm so glad the society finally brought you on board."
He closed his eyes, leaned his head back, and released a puff of smoke from his mouth. The effects were already smoothing his nerves—not that his nerves needed much smoothing in the first place.

Sascha had never found social events as nerve-wracking as others did, particularly not ones like these, which were all fanfare and small talk. Perhaps at his first ball, back when he had first received his own tarot card, he had had butterflies in his stomach, but even then, the fluttery feeling was out of giddiness and excitement, not apprehension. Sascha's attitude was obvious in the way he carried himself, his shoulders relaxed and his posture verging on slouching. His outfit was reasonably high class, though the top buttons of his white dress shirt were undone and his suit glittered like a very conspicuous disco ball. The batman mask resting in his chestnut curls spoke volumes about how seriously he was taking this gathering as well.

He didn't expect anything entertaining from tonight. If anything, he needed the weed in his system in order to make the speeches and small talk more interesting. Formal events could be so incredibly boring, especially when the society's supervisors would be lurking about for the first half of it. He had been in the society long enough to know the ins and outs. He didn't need to sit through another introduction. He was sure that if anything important was announced, he would find out about it sooner or later.

It seemed as though Sascha was missing one of said introduction speeches already, his gaze drifting to the window as the murmur of the crowd went silent inside and Rory's faint voice drifted outside. He caught bits and parts of the speech, snorting in amusement at the word sophisticated and taking another drag of the pen.

So sophisticated.

At least they were outside, away from view. Sascha peered in through the window once more as the speech came to a close, nearly choking on his next lungful of smoke as his gaze caught on a familiar face. He squinted dramatically, nearly pressing his face against the glass. It was difficult to pinpoint the features hidden underneath the mask, but as the figure approached, she confirmed his suspicions.

"No fucking way,"
he said, his face breaking into a grin as she stepped out and approached the circle, posing her complaints—all of which he agreed with wholeheartedly. Lys was certainly a sight for sore eyes. He had never seen her this dressed up either.

"Lys,"
Sascha greeted enthusiastically, slinging his arm around her shoulders with all the charm of a used car salesman.
"Fancy meeting you here, I see the society has finally sunk their claws into you."
He flashed an easy smile and lowered his voice conspiratorially.
"Don't worry about what Rory says, the picture of decorum is overrated. Welcome to the real party."


Sascha held out the weed pen for her to take, his arm slipping off her shoulders and back down at his side, where he shoved his hand casually into his pants pocket.

"You're in luck, Agnes is a newbie too—"
Sascha nodded to one of the other students standing by him.
"And she brought something better than alcohol, here."










♡coded by uxie♡


 



















  • Edmund "Eddie" Beaumont



    @
    herecomesthesun








































    • 00:42






      weekend



      clubhouse










      20:01

      :
      syd


      new !




      eds i need your help asap!!







      19:37

      :
      insta


      new !




      lys
      liked your post.










      !












    !




    details













    the sun




    Eddie glanced at Sydney with a raised eyebrow, a smile playing on his lips. Between the two of them, they could surely figure out how to properly glamor a dress. It was not very surprising that his friend had left things to the last minute, and he had made sure to say the prompt “I told you so”s when he heard that she needed help. But of course, he was here helping her out anyway. It wasn’t as if he would ever leave her high and dry, especially when it came to one of his areas of expertise such as fashion. Eddie considered himself somewhat of a fashion expert, and figured that was evidenced by the fact he was all dressed and ready to go, dark maroon suit jacket sleeves pushed up as he worked on some runes. His gold wire mask was sitting a few feet away, ready for him to don again before the duo went to leave. Assuming neither of them forgot it in the dorm room.

    The two of them had ideas for what the dress itself was going to look like splayed out across the floor, working in Sydney’s dorm since her roommate had already gone out to the party. Eddie wondered briefly if Lys might have preferred hanging out with them as they frantically tried to get their shit together instead of going to a ball populated by mostly near-strangers and felt a bit bad for not texting her about it. Oh well. She was friendly; she was probably already finding someone to start chatting with and would hopefully not have to wait much longer for Eddie and Sydney to arrive. He chewed his lip in thought, nodding to himself.

    “Okay, I think we’ve got it worked out this time,” he said, brows knitted in concentration. He was known to make some…interesting faces when he was really focusing on something such as art or fashion, thinking quite deeply as he imagined each possibility in front of his eyes. But this time was surely the charm, right? Sydney was going to be the belle of the ball or Eddie would eat his own belt, as he threatened to do if any creation of his turned out less than fabulous. It was a silly (and stupid) threat, but that had never stopped him before. Silly and stupid was basically his prerogative at social events as soon as he got some alcohol in him. And these stuffy balls were definitely a drinking situation, though he had to admit that he loved the social and fashion aspects of them despite their flaws.

    “Are you ready to look amazing?” he asked with a smirk, placing his arm on his hip as he gestured to Sydney’s clothes with his other hand. His assuredness filled the space, Eddie being certain of both of their abilities and fashion sense, and he knew that if this went wrong he would be quite annoyed for the rest of the night about it. His dramatics were well-documented amongst those he was close to, several of his current friends having mistaken him for a drama student at first due to his antics. But no, he was just very invested in everything he did and a bit of a drama queen. But Sydney loved him for it, and at least he figured that she better, considering how much entertainment he brought to a function. And tonight he wanted jaws to drop as they walked in the door.








    ♡coded by uxie♡

 


















agnes tanner



@
agnest








































  • 00:42






    the spins



    mac miller










    20:01

    :
    camille


    new !




    i’m high and kind of scared







    19:37

    :
    finsta


    new !




    Sascha
    liked your post.










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the devil



Agnes tugged at the collar of her shirt, the crisp, white fabric held snugly against her neck by a matching bowtie. The October night’s air was tinged with a chill, though not enough of one to warrant the many layers that the young woman had donned for the formal occasion. She’d been so adamant about not wearing a dress, but this seemed somehow worse in hindsight—her skin felt hot and itchy, uneasiness settling in her chest despite the earthy-scented smoke billowing out before her from parted lips. Inside, the party churned with bright vitality, but Agnes shied away from its welcoming arms like a plant shriveling beneath the heat of the sun. She may have been one of the supposed “guests of honor,” but she could evade her inevitable entrance just a moment or two longer.

Arching an eyebrow, Agnes cast Sascha a sideways glance—out of all of the Society’s withstanding members, he was one of the most accepting, even stooping so low as to go beneath the watchful eyes of the Amithis to indulge with Agnes in her bad habits on occasion.

“What soul? The Devil doesn’t have one of those, right?” It was an odd thing to be labeled and put into a box, and this one was proving to be particularly difficult to contort herself to fill. Was this what they really thought of her? Agnes knew next to nothing about tarot cards and what they symbolized, but being dubbed as the ruler of Hell couldn’t possibly have been a good thing.

“At least someone is.”

Agnes followed Sascha’s gaze through the window, where Aurora could be seen standing at the podium, her figure illuminated by the glistening chandeliers above. She looked so regal—statuesque, even, as if the ruffles of her dress and high cheekbones had been carved from marble. It came as no surprise that she’d been appointed leader of their secret society—she embodied the very idea. She smiled as she engaged the audience before her, winning them over with her easy charm.

She was everything that Agnes was not.

What am I even doing here?

As Sascha coughed, startled, Agnes wondered for a moment if she’d vocalized her concern until he addressed an approaching fellow member. Agnes didn’t recognize the young woman upon first glance, but there was something innately familiar about her all the same—surely, they must have crossed paths at some point during the brunette’s two years at Oak Grove.

“Alcohol’s overrated,” Agnes agreed with a grin, raising her pen—now back in her possession—toward the girl, Lys, as she neared. “Weed never turned anyone into an angry drunk.”

In her pocket, Agnes’ phone buzzed for the fourth time since she’d stepped outside. Finally, she relented, fingers digging the device from its fabric prison it and lifting it into view. She squinted at the screen, glowing vibrantly against the backdrop of the dark campus, to see a series of messages from Camille, who didn’t seem to be dealing with her time in the clouds well.

“Shit,” Agnes muttered. “Duty calls. I’ll catch you guys later.” She offered a parting nod as she retrieved her pen from Lys’ grasp, taking one final drag before returning it, along with her phone, to the safety of her pants.

Agnes pulled her disguise down as she passed through the ballroom’s door. Despite her complaints, she’d leaned into the Amithis-dubbed persona; dark, glitter-rimmed eyes peered at the crowd from behind a black mask, thick horns protruding from the front edges and curving over the top of her curls.

If the Society wanted a devil, she’d give them one.

“Hey,” Agnes greeted Camille as the woman at last came into view, hands extending to steady her shoulders. “How’re you holding up, trooper? You want something to eat? It’ll make you feel better.” She turned toward the blonde that’d been keeping her roommate company in her absence. “I’m Agnes, by the way. Has it been bad? I didn’t know she couldn’t handle her weed.”








♡coded by uxie♡


 
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