Fantasy We Paint White Roses Red

[TheTaleTellers]

​

 

[TheTaleTellers]

​

 

[TheTaleTellers]

____________________________________________________________

The weather was a bittersweet mood on an exhausting Friday, it's one of the last days of Spring and the season is going out gracefully. Outside was dripping with remaining rain from last night's shower with the windows crisp and foggy from the condensation in the air. It's June the 18th and the flowers are almost in full bloom.
_____________________________________



It is DAY A And it is 6:00 AM in the White Rabbit Home. Morning Showers are to be getting started. ​

 

[TheTaleTellers]

POSTING ORDER:
- Coyote
- BasilOwO
- Peckinou
- madochi
- Shadow Alpha
- Sm0ochys

SPECIAL [GENERAL ] EVENT AT 12:00 IC

 

[BasilOwO]

Sam walked through the halls, keeping to the shadows. It wasn't unknown for the Candy to keep herself in the darkness, opting to scare the orphans and blushing servants by walking out of the shadows when they least expected it. The werewolf yawned, rubbing her face. She had caught a glimpse of the thing that Helia, a Scarlet sent around to do her bidding. Shaking her head, she walked to one of the orphans doors, slamming her fist against it. Might as well start the tasks before the Blushing's got their pathetic asses down there. She knew that she herself had personal matters to attend to with one of the harvest orphans, and walked through the halls until she found them. "Don't fight what is to happen to you." She snapped to them, in which they nodded. She wasn't one for pleasantries, and frankly she could do without the posh acting. Of course, she made that known by dressing in the men's uniform, making it known that she meant business.

As she watched the harvest boy run off, she thought about the amount of awakened orphans the orphanage held. The monsters, the ones that didn't quite fit where they had last been seen. She thought about the awakened orphans that brought a smile to her face everytime they killed an harvest. Of course there were other ways for her to sate her bloodlust, including giving harvest orphans to the awakened ones, but that wasn't as fun, was it? She had to overlook the others, make sure a blushing servant didn't lose their life to a spoiled orphan, whom she knew would take any chance to end them. Though she also knew that there were secrets that many of them held close to their chests, such as what happened before they found themselves at this god forsaken orphanage on in island in the middle of nowhere. No one knew what went down in the orphanage and if they figured it out, well she was sure they would leave with the information they had learned, because she would be the one to make sure that word never got out about the children that lost their lives in The White Rabbit Orphanage.

 

[Peckinou]

It was early in the day, not usually a time Sinwynque enjoyed being outside, but they slept early yesterday and was pretty much filled with energy at this point. They held their pet in their hands, they honestly thought they were getting a bit heavy, and thought that they should put them on a diet in order to get them to lose a bit of weight maybe. But Sinwynque quickly shook their head at the idea doubting it would work since others would likely just give them food anyways. Their clucking usually did the trick in order to convince most of the other kids to give them some food, with a deep breath Sinwynque set their chicken out on the ground, finding the area to be abandoned enough. Thus allowing their pet to move around at their own whims, as they sat down next to them and watched as they looked around clucking to themselves, the area was eerily silent, which atleast made it easier to detect any sort of sound in case someone was coming. After having went to be earlier than usual, they figured their schedule was a bit messed up, atleast just a bit, so they had a bit of free time to themselves before they would go on to ask someone to take care of their chicken, while they followed other orphans, atleast the ones that they wanted to learn more about.

When they had first arrived the place felt so big, now it almost seemed to be getting smaller, it was likely due to the wave of familiarity, they had grown accustomed to most of the areas they were allowed to go to by now. Though they did wish they could sneak into some of the more restricted areas, but they didn't want to risk being caught, they honestly hated risks, and had grown too cautious after dealing with some of the monsters that lurked around the place. Though those thoughts were best kept for when night comes, for in the morning they didn't wish to think too much about that, and instead wanted to focus on themselves and gathering as much information from others as possible. But who knows what person would be the best to get to know as of today, maybe in the next hour they would consider looking and choosing. But for now they wanted to enjoy the nice warm air, as the wind constantly moves around their body, the familiar feeling being barely noticed by them as they get lost in their thoughts.

 

[Alvaris]

The time drew near as the sun peaked over the land vanquishing the darkness that once held claim.
The orphanage called and the scent death permeated the air. Yet, none wept.

Swift.

Calculated.

Executed with precision.

The thought pleased her. Those that asked too many questions held no right to their life. Those that dared act against the Owner forfeited the very air they breathed. Those that remained ignorant also served a purpose. Silver eyes locked on the body before her, the flaky skin clinging to the bone. Not one drop of blood soaked the ground. With a kick, the body tumbled into the shallow grave before the shriveled arms of the corpse cracked, flesh tearing to reveal porcelain bone. The carcass lifted its arms and raked its fingers through the soft dirt, pulling the mud onto itself. The mind of the body wandered. Its human form ethereal in front of her. The green eyes of the man watched, flicking from Emra’s stoic form to the hole its body would now rest.

The man spoke, complaining of the cold as confusion took hold of him. The feeling of uncertainty filled her, followed by the memories of pain. Of death. Feelings and memories that did not belong to her. Once the withered hands retreated into the dirt, Emra turned.

“Please, don’t leave,” the man said, his voice shaking. “I don’t understand.”

Emra looked at the dense woods in front of her. The man’s whimpers competed with the sound of animals chittering as they awoke from their slumber. Before he spoke again Emra shifted. What once was a mouth became a beak, feet became talons, and arms became wings. Her large dark eyes never turned as took to the skies.

From above, Emra surveyed the lush green forest, it glowed vibrantly after the rain the night before. In the distance, the manor came into view. The archaic building loomed over the woods, casting a dominating shadow over all who strolled toward its gates. The marred stonework held decades of secrets and if one listened close enough they could hear whispers filling the halls. The aged mansion remained a constant in her life. The only constant left, aside from the Owner. Each stain below the windows or marks on the roof were accounted for. She knew when they came to be and where each were.

Emra cast her dark eyes on the tower erected in the front of the building; it stood high above the mansion and overlooked the grounds. Her domain. The long tower window was ajar, the same way she had left it to feed.

A black figure scurrying across the lawn caught her attention. The bag in her hand spoke of an expected course of action some called a tragedy, but Emra called paperwork. Swiftly she tilted to intercept where the lawn kissed the woods. Tucking her wings in she dove through the trees and landed on human feet. Her six-foot stature appeared daunting to most, though it combated with her unearthly greyish complexion. Many cowered before her appearance, which struck fear into the hearts of feeble beings.

Lucy bounded toward the forest. Her walk more jovial than Emra could stand with a cloying personality to match. Mouse-like, the fiend moved ever nearer.

Coyote
​

 

[madochi]

Marigold's canary yellow eyes slowly fluttered open, greeted by the gentle streaks of morning sunlight illuminating the small bedroom. Feeling the rays of warmth casted upon his fair features, his drowsy gaze began to drink in the hazy day, turning his cheek to look through his bedside window.

Flower pots full of blooming gazanias line his windowsill, their exotic golden petals thriving in the sunlight. The sight of them blossoming every morning has always brought a smile to Marigold's face, and today was no exception, an amazed simper lighting upon his lips as he admired their glorious vibrance. 'Treasure flowers...,' he mentally recalled, 'represent immense wealth and riches...not always physical, though. For me, gazanias mean...,' he let his eyes trail away from the pots and lay upon the centerpiece they surrounded. Three photos strung up in a neat row, comprising of the same two gleeful faces giggling together. Affection surged within his heart upon looking at the visage of his happy bestest-friend-in the-entire-world and himself, his smile turning sweetly tender.

'Wealth in friendships.' Every day he woke up grateful for such an amazing friend, and everyday was a testimony to how lucky he was to have somebody so special in his life. The novelty of their friendship seemed to never wear off, and at times it seemed to overwhelm the blonde with tears of joy. He couldn't believe that somebody like that existed, somebody that warded away the dreadful chill of Marigold's fears like a warm, wooly blanket. Although he couldn't remember much about his past before his little adventure in the forest for some reason, he had a feeling that he had never felt so comforted by somebody's presence before. It was so soothing...oh no, thinking about it was going to make him start crying again, and he didn't want to worry anyone.

Blinking away the droplets that pricked his eyes, the smile on his face remained as he sat up, stretching his back and arms above him with the softest yawn escaping from his lips. Rubbing away the slight gumminess from his eyelids, the blonde reached over to grab the two bracelets left on his nightstand, slipping them onto his wrist. He then quietly exited his bed, careful to not awake his best friend sleeping in the bed beside him, as well as his caring sister across from them both. Although they were never officially put in the same room together, Marigold had been sleeping over in his super-mega-best-friend Ryder's room ever since he had arrived, to the point that the bedside window had practically became his home. Evident by the flower plots that were undoubtedly placed by none other than yours truly, he felt free to make himself cozy since he slept over practically every night.

He subconsciously ignored the empty, third bed that haunted them all with a thin layer of dust, although he hadn't remembered it to be often occupied in the first place.

Marigold headed over towards the dresser with all his clothes inside (he had moved a lot of his stuff here), rummaging through the drawers to fish out a clean new uniform. With his change of clothes obtained, he picked up his spare shower caddy and silently tiptoed over to the door. He opened it with minimal creaking, slipping through into the dormitory hallways and shutting it behind him. His bare feet skittered across the wooden floor as he searched for a certain room down the line of doors...ah, there it is!

Twisting the knob of the door and peaking in, he tittered at the slumbering Ares, surrounded by the softest pillows he could get his hands on in the past couple of days (some of which were donated by Marigold himself, as he'd love to see his new friend comfortable). Letting himself inside, he strode over to the closed curtains and drew them back, allowing the morning light to brighten up the place. He set wide the windows to let the crisp fresh air filter into the room, only to be transfixed by the twittering songs of birds outside. Curiously poking his head out of the window, he discovered he was within arm's reach of a nest of black-capped chickadees, seated on the branches of a tree that grew close to the mansion. A guileless grin split across his face as the mother opened a wing towards him; a welcoming gesture.

"Good morning, Mrs. Chickadee!" The blonde whisper-sang in response, giggling as he ducked out of the window and turned his attentions once more on his sleepy friend. Skipping over towards his blanketed companion, his voice was cheerful yet clement.

"Wakey wakey, sleepy head!" he greeted gently, leaning over to envelop Ares' sleeping form in a loving hug. Releasing the boy after a few seconds (and a good squeeze), he did a little happi-hop in excitement, already hyped for the coming day.

"Did you sleep well? I hope you did!"

the kindhearted

marigold.

• aaaaaaaaa
• aaaaaaaaa

• filler tab!
• 
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  mentions

  
  
  
  

  Shadow Alpha

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[Pipsqueak]

xx

Calypso

(She/Her)

"Anyone who allows themselves to be hurt deserved it."

Mood: Murderous?

Interactions: None

Mentions: @Coyote @Alvaris

Place: Halls of orphanage

Why do all the monsters come out at night?

xx

xx

xx

xx

Dollhouse of Magic

Fantasy and World Music by the Fiechters

A quiet mansion sat inside a quiet forest, quite alone from the outside world. It was as if all of the wildlife knew that the place held some dark secrets that were shrouded in a false sense of light and security. Animals were good at sensing things like that. Nothing stirred outside save a lone housekeeper on her way to complete a very important task and a little birdie that, if you watched long enough, might not be all she seems. That was certainly a common theme around here, and one that the dark little secrets inside preferred to keep. Inside this mansion one wouldn't find much out of the ordinary. They were usually too blinded by that false light. An orphanage that housed dozens of lost and very...interesting characters resided within the walls. Some of these children had already been awoken by the very dim rays of light that managed to break through the hazy fog. Others, however, were still dreaming their silly little fantasy lands that only they knew of. A safe haven inside one that only claimed to be so.

Caly was one of the few children who often woke up in the darkest hours of the morning. It wasn't as if she had an alarm to tell her to do so, but it was more of an instinctual thing. She preferred this time of day. It was a good thinking time, a good way to plan things ahead. In fact, there was one thing she had been thinking of for the past few mornings. Something dark and evil. Something Caly knew little girls shouldn't be thinking about. But she couldn't help it. Splashes of warm blood covered her and her walls. Her teddies sat on the bed, watching the gruesome scene play out. Although she was only six, she knew what murder was and how others tended to react to it. These thoughts and images kept tugging at her conscious. It was tantalizing, like waving a big piece of meat in front of a hungry tiger. The tiger can't help when it's hungry, can it?

'If tigers can eat when they please, why can't I just try it? It would only be one person, and it's not like anyone would really miss them.' And she knew it was true. She saw how the servants turned a blind eye towards most going ons in this place. It didn't bother her one bit though, no sir. Caly squeezed one of her stuffed animals, the urge to just take a little peek at what the inside of a kid was really like making her squirm in anticipation. The servants turned a blind eye, sure, but would they condone murder?

'They'll have to.' She thought, her mind already resolved. She would be just like that beautiful tiger she saw in her picture book! Clapping with joy at her sudden motivation she skipped out into the hallway, growling just like a tiger would.

♡design by rabbitswarren, coded by uxie♡

 

[Shadow Alpha]

Hidden Scroll

Mood -

Exhausted

Interaction -

Marigold

Tag -

madochi

Ares Lýkos

Awoooo

Ares found himself sitting in front of his window, the same exact routine that has been ingrained into his body ever since he was placed in what the adults called an ''orphanage''. His eyes remained glued to the outline of the waxing moon as it dove in and out of sight behind grey clouds. Every time the moon exposed itself, Ares could feel a strange tug that seemed to come from his soul. Still unaware of what could be causing that reaction and had instead blamed his strange constitution for the sensation.

Ares was aware that he physically did not resemble nor fit in with the children and some of the staff that appeared to be normal humans. Upon arriving, those differences had come to the forefront of his mind a lot. His left hand clawed left hand reached up to lightly grasp his furred ears that sat atop his head while his free hand grasped the the thick yet silky fur that covered his tail appendage. All of the attributes that kept most of the kids at bay were once key to his 3 month survival in the wilderness. He could only thank them for helping him make it as long as he did on a diet of various animals that had the unlucky chance of crossing his path. There were plenty of times where he felt as if something else was pushing him to hunt and take the lives of those animals, regardless of it being prey or a predator larger than himself. ​

Ares nose had picked up on a familiar aroma, how can a building littered with the scent of death and decay ever be viewed as a decent home for children. Let alone the muffled sounds that were half-assed covered when dealing with his keen senses. His guard never faltered in this horrid new environment that always seem to buzz with some sort of dark energy. If there's one thing Ares had learned it was to never doubt his instincts, which is why he had kept his distance from most of these people.

Of course that did not last long in the case of one overtly positive human flower named Marigold. The boy constantly reeked of sunlight and innocence to the point that Ares felt responsible for looking after him. Mari had constantly broken into any bubble that Ares had put up, even the occasional growling and snapping didn't deter him from giving his specialty hugs. The sensation had always made his skin crawl from his already heightened body heat and due to it being a first for him.

Before he had even realized it, the moon had long descended and Ares had spent the entire night up once again peering out into the exposed darkness. Ares swiftly flopped onto his pillow nest after switching into his sleep shorts and wiggled around until he found a comfortable position. Within the next 5 minutes, the sound of padded footsteps and a familiar scent made its way towards his door. Ares prayed to whatever would hear him that Marigold was just passing by but he knew better deep down. He pretended to remain sleep as he heard the blonde speak to the wretched winged rats and allow unholy light to hit his face directly. The sudden hug caused him to release a light sigh as he knew it was time to get up.

Ares' long hair stuck out in random directions while only one ear managed to flop up, squinted red irises glared at Marigold as the boy appeared to have a halo of light surrounding him. ''I've....been asleep for like 5 minutes Mari. Why do you insist on moving the blackout curtains every morning,'' Ares grumbled out through a yawn. He crawled over to a corner that lacked pillows and threw all of his shower stuff in his little caddy followed by the bottom portion of his uniform. Shirts have always been a sore spot that made him feel constricted so it was a constant argumentative point for him and the housekeepers. ''I'm starving Mari, let's hurry up so we can eat.'' ​

♡design by neon reverie, coded by uxie♡

​

 

[Sm0ochys]

"Urgh.." A groan came out of a lump hiding under the bedsheets. The rays of light coming out from the cracks in the curtains shone on the awakening figure. One who tussled and turned repeatedly. A young woman struggling to break the chains of slumber and rise on what could be called a beautiful morning. Jinx's eyelids were heavy with exhaustion, and every time she rubbed her eyes they would feel irritated.

As soon as she sat up on her large bed the sun rays hit her on the face, a rude awakening to start her day. Putting her hand in front of her to shield herself from the warm beams outside her window. Not fully awake yet she sighed and threw her legs onto the side of the bed. Placing her feet on the cold surface. she looked at her legs for what seemed like an eternity before raising her arms over her head and stretching, Falling back on the bed as her legs tightened and toes curled, it was almost as if internally her body was cracking an outer layer, and newfound energy was bursting out the seams.

Leaving the bed Jinx took the time to stretch, bending and twisting her body, her bones cracking each time. "I hate it here" She mumbled. She couldn't understand why she and the other orphans had to wake so early. Sighing Jinx put on her slippers and went towards her drawer. Grabbing a fresh towel. It was already routine to shower at the communal Washrooms and head back to her room to change. Too many times had she made the mistake of bringing her clothes with her only for them to be drenched by younger children who didn't know how to mind themselves. If it was up to her Jinx could sleep all throughout the day, however her main motivation to even being awake was breakfast, She couldn't lie and say the food was not good, on the contrary, it was the only highlight of the day, the cooks knew what they were doing and satiated all the children with big meals and top quality food.

As Jinx headed to the showers and began to bathe, letting the hot water hit her multi-colored hair, She wondered if the reason why the food was so good was that it was made of "adopted" children that continuously left the orphanage. She smirked at her crude thought, If only it was that easy to fulfill the other being that seemed to be famished at all times. Looking at her body she noticed the scars that could almost be mistaken for small lightning strikes on her skin, her veins, the hundreds upon hundreds of them, broken and reformed to be able to control the power within her. the droplets of water splashing on her long eyelashes before falling through and running down on her cheeks.

After leaving the shower, Jinx retreated to her room, with now the sun out and about with full display, birds chirping, and right about now she could hear other children waking up, or talking with others. Jinx sat down in front of her mirror to put on her stockings and shoes after putting on her uniform and began brushing her hair. She looked side to side, studying her face, Although sometimes she would be called beautiful by the workers in the manor she could only see the monster inside her. She knew that's why she was here after all.

Nowhere else in the world would she be able to satiate a bloodlust only wild animals would have. This facade of an orphanage was just a hunting ground for her and others, even at the cost of their humanity.

 

[TeikiFox]

(joining in!)​

Blushing Servant

Thalia Eire
"Another day... another day"

The pen would spin between her fingers- slow, methodical- before growing faster and more insistent, eyes gazing at the desk before her. Finally it would stop, the flowery pen pushed into place, the front of a jar of other assortment of pens, pencils. The colors varied from neon pink to the soft greens and every color in between. Eyes would continue to stare, a grimace forming. It would need to be reorganized, whenever she managed to get the free time. But for now it would do, turning to face the next question of the morning- uniform. Thalia was known to switch between the two, not particularly caring for either. There was too much, tassels and jewelry and random other trinkets. While trinkets adorned her room and were adored by her, they were always hidden away in her room or stuffed into a pocket. Too fancy, something she should've gotten used to over the years. But it still remained strange and foreign, more so now.

The soft pink dress was chosen, because it was pretty. Two questions completed, an unknown amount more to go. Orphans, and kids in general, had a tendency to change on a whim. Sometimes they were bursting with ideas, thoughts, and concerns. Other times they were happy to play with one another. Play- it always seemed more like a hunt, figuring out how was prey and how was the predator. The cycle continued, never ceasing. How easily they all changed and yet it affected nothing. She was probably one that saw it most often, offering a place for those quieter, softer, didn't know how to play with the older kids, the fiercer kids. They never stayed for long, only able to protect one. A sad thought, opening the door to truly face the new day.

Ah well, she would do her best. At least there was some thought in her actions.

photo by arthurhenri on deviantart; interactions: none (open); mentions:

​

Eyes flashed open.

The girl would stare at the ceiling, eyes wide, the grin on her face widening with each passing moment. She was here. Wherever here was, it had almost been a dream to find it, the massive building that did allow her in. Obviously it had been her persuasiveness and not that it was an orphanage that allowed the girl to stay, flopped on a bed. A quick roll would have her falling onto the ground and bouncing up, fully turning herself to take a look at the room she was in. It was all so amazing-

The newcomer would fall back onto her bed in a seated position, springs squeaking as she bounced. Dark hair would fall into her eyes, hands ungracefully batting the strands out of the way. What exactly were they supposed to do? Yes, it wasn't as though she had arrived just yesterday, but it also hadn't really been that long. Not long enough to remember, at least. Eyebrows would furrow in thought, before she shrugged, bouncing back into her excited self.

The ten-year-old would slip from her room, hair messy and still in her pajamas. Obviously they wouldn't need to be in uniforms this early, right? Even if that was the case, no one could blame her for making that mistake- it was easy to forget stuff! Bright eyes were on the hunt for someone who seemed to know what they were doing. Not staff preferably, but someone who actually knew their way around instead of just following all the rules. Rules were fine and all, but sometimes they were just boring. Finally, she spotted the person.

"You!" Feet would push her forward, dashing towards the person, almost tripping. "I don't know what we're supposed to do, but ya seem like ya know. So help me-" There would be a pause before the girl actually figured out what to add, "please?"

Really, even if the older kid disagreed, they would probably find the girl walking on their shadow for the rest of the day.

Names Collected

New kid
Unknown

photo by badenlily on tumblr; interactions: Lost ; mentions:​

​

ooc: let me know if the code breaks or you can't read the text- it should be mobile friendly!

 

[BluEndings]

W h i t e

R a b b i t

H o m e

Scritch. Scritch. Scritch.
The sound of pen to paper.

Drip. Drip. Drip.
The sound of ink hitting the table.

Flip. Flip. Flip.
The sound of turning paper.

These monotonous sounds were the only thing they had to look forward to in the morning. A desk full of documents meant less time having to be present elsewhere. ‘Leave that which a Blushing can handle to the Blushings.’ That was but one of the many principles Arden would pass on to the Housekeepers under their instruction. And yet, unfortunately, today was not one of those days. Although usually alone in their study, right now the Candy was graced by the presence of three Blushings. They had been present for some time, standing by the doorway without so much as a whisper. Normally Arden might find this pleasing, but the source of this silence was neither discipline nor respect. What these three were displaying was fear.

Truth is, this was the Candy’s first time meeting with the three. For them to be exhibiting fear meant something else had instilled it within them. Maybe they simply feared the position of “Candy”—or perhaps authority in general.

"Help yourself to a seat," Arden motioned.

Hesitantly, one by one the three took to the free seats opposite of the Candy. Not a single one could bring themselves to look them in the eyes. Instead, they vented their worry into nervous tics-the twirling of hair, the rubbing of hands, the swaying of feet. Quite improper behavior, but this was not the time for that kind of lesson.

"Do you know why it is that you were called here?"

The question earned Arden the view of one of the Blushings’ eyes. It came from the tall young man with a pronounced nose. He had a habit of swallowing often, and his socks were inside out. Not exactly the pinnacle of grace, but no matter.

"N-No," The pitiful group stammered in unison.

Drip.

Not ink. What hit the table this time was a singular drop of blood.

Arden’s gaze turned to the woman on the right. She had green eyes, a slight tan, and of course, blood running down her nose. Those very same green eyes were now opened as wide as jewels while her mouth quivered. She did not make any attempt to speak, but her trembling made it clear she wanted to.

"Might there be something you wish to inform me of?"

"Y-Yes," She raised her downcast face to her left. "Kennie broke t-the rules!"

The Blushing on the left quickly shifted in his seat, but did not stand. Brown hair, dull eyes, and an evidently wrinkled uniform—He looked unremarkable.

"T-That’s ridiculous!"

There was a pause.

"Did you or did you not break the rules?"

"N-No, I just—"

Drip.

The Candy’s eyes narrowed.

"Have you betrayed The House?"

"O-Of course not!" The man stammered. "I-I just took a book out of the library. I was going to r-return it. I swear!"

…

Nothing.

"Was that all you did?"

"Y-Yes…" He mumbled, eyes locked to the floor.

Arden sighed.

"What a pointless thing to lie about," They shook their head. "Make sure to return the book—That will be all."

" “T-That’s it?”"

"Correct. Please refrain from lying to me in the future."

The Blushings shared a glance and then scrambled out of the room, the discourse nearly knocking over the chairs. After which, the room was returned to the original uncomfortable standstill as the Candy once again took to their work.

This was precisely why Arden disliked the fear that perpetuated this place.

What a waste of time.

ARDEN

Location:
Study

Mood:
Apathetic

Mentions:
—

Interactions:
—

[ID CARD]

W h i t e

R a b b i t

H o m e

"This floor... sure does taste like floor."

...

Wait what?

Calling it a violent awakening would just about sum it up. The boy twirled around in a whirlwind of flailing arms and legs until he freed himself from the entangled sheets. Somehow or another he had managed to stay asleep despite having fallen off the bed. It wouldn’t be a first, but each time he would find himself sleeping in even more peculiar positions. He’d get flak from his roommates each and every morning because of it.

His eyes turned to the tidy set of beds on the other side of the room.

At least, he used to get flak from his roommates. It had been some time since he last saw them. Not too recently they had been moved to another dormitory wing. They never got in touch after that, not even during free hours. Ollie was convinced they were actively avoiding him. He had poked around rooms for days now without ever catching so much as a glance of them.

"Ugh," He rolled on his back, and aimlessly swung at the air.

So maybe he had filled their shoes with mashed potatoes, but that was only once-ok twice. Not to mention it was incredibly funny. It would be a crime, to humor as a whole, to deny that. But there wasn’t anything else he could think of that would cause them to ignore him. He did try to turn one of their beds into a water bed. Which didn’t really work, but can you blame him for trying?

Tick. Tick. Tick.

Ollie sat up, and stared at the tall grandfather clock in the corner. It’s wood was splintered at the base, he had learned that first-hand.

…

Yeah, he was never going to get the hang of reading these things on his own. It would be best to assume he was late, and that meant all the warm water had probably been used up already. If there was anything Ollie hated more than water, it was cold water. In other words: forget showers. He would just have to head straight to the dining hall, and you never know—maybe he would get praised for arriving to breakfast early.

Lucky for him, he had slept in his uniform. It was almost like the him of yesterday was setting up the him of today for success. Man, sometimes he couldn’t help but be surprised by his own genius. It was impressive! And to think his roommates would scold him for it... Showed what they knew.

And so, with a self-satisfied smirk, Ollie made his way into the halls. Halls that were, in fact, not being filled with a sudden outpour of children from the neighboring rooms. His suspicion was correct. He was late, just like everyday before this one. He hadn’t quite got the hang of the whole ‘waking yourself up’ thing, but he was improving; the lack of a Housekeeper dragging him out was proof of that. Give it another week and he might not miss out on the warm water.

"Fufufu," He chuckled, turning the corner into the dining hall.

Today was going to be a good day.

OLLIE

Location:
Dormitory -> Dining Hall

Mood:
Upbeat

Mentions:
—

Interactions:
—

[ID CARD]

(Fingers crossed code doesn't explode.)​

 

[KaramelKarma]

Kane Whitlock

filler

filler

filler

filler

filler

filler

• .
• 1
• 3
• 4
• 5
• 5
• aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

• home (filler tab)
• 
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  

  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  

  filler

  
  
• 
  

  
  

  
  
  

  location

  
  
  

  front entrance of the orphanage

  
  

  
  

  
  

  filler

  
  
• 
  

  
  

  
  
  

  interactions

  
  
  

  n/a

  
  

  
  

  
  

  filler

  
  
• 
  

  
  

  
  
  

  mentions

  
  
  

  Alvaris Coyote

  
  

  
  

  
  

  filler

  
  
• 
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  

  filler

  
  
• home (filler tab)

kane's theme

The breeze whistled an eerie tune, it's bite crisp and invigorating. The first rays of daylight began to creep up and over the endless treetops, as if choosing to keep appearances and pretend that time still held any semblance of importance on this island. Neverthless, it was a beautiful sight; the brightening of the horizon, the graceful dance of sunlight spreading all across the Orphanage estate. Even the faint sound of songbirds could be heard.
But Kane paid no heed; he had seen the same scene a thousand times over. In fact, he was nowhere near the surface, but underground, a mile or two southwest of the Orphanage. The Catacombs, a labrynthian tangle of underpasses and caverns were painstakingly fashioned by Kane's own hand and power, acting as his place of peace and solitude, even if for a few stolen minutes a day. The Catacombs were the only place where he could take out the key and unlock the cage, letting his soul come out and take a breath.

Kane stood for a few moments, admiring his creations. A flicker of temptation flitted past, poisoning his senses. Stay, a traitorous whisper cooed. Kane began to turn around. Stay, the voice whispered again, more insistent. He kept walking. Stay with us, the voices chimed softly, their stony gazes sharpening. The steps echoed, weaving past moss-covered figurines stained and cracked by the whip of time. As Kane answered the luring call of duty and ambition, the voices lessened. The passageways and statues became much smoother. He was walking past history; memories imbued in every crevice of every statue. The expressions fascinated the most; some had expressions of utter fear, others had surprise, and still others had ones captured in the moment of whatever they had been doing. The number of statues dwindled, their expressions transforming from fear and agony to those more on the serene, as Kane walked closer and closer.

Finally, he arrived at the entrance. Kane's back stiffened back up, his grey eyes growing colder as he lay his hand against the smooth, gray wall. A deep rumbling echoed for a few moments before the wall opened itself up, revealing a vertical shaft leading up to the surface. A smooth stone platform lay at the base. He stepped on and with a slight flick of the wrist, rode the platform up to the surface.

The morning greeted him, though as usual, he did not have much to say back. Sealing the hole, Kane walked a mile and came out of the forest onto Orphanage territory. He circled the east side of the Mansion towards the courtyards. As always, he threw a quick, cautionary glance towards the crown jewel of the mansion; the tower. The spire stood tall and ominous even in broad sunlight, its shadow bearing on everything.

Too close, he thought as he kept his eye out for fellow staff. Taking the scenic route was a treat Kane rarely gave himself, and for good reason. Kane averted his gaze and leaned against one of the pillars as he crossed his arms, waiting exactly 12 seconds. The pitter patter of tiny feet and chitter chatter appeared as scheduled from morning exercise. Kane lifted his chin, keeping a stony gaze on all the Harvest Orphans. The voices died down to whispers as they walked past him, slowing down as Kane gave them a quick protocol checkover. A small boy skirted past him.

"Stop."

The little whelp froze.

"Turn around."

The boy faced him. He was a skittish, flighty thing, gripping the seams of his pants while he stared at the ground. Kane approached him, his shadow falling over the child like an executioner's axe.

"Wipe it off," Kane told him. The boy looked up in surprise, before noticing the faint residue of jam on his chin. He quickly rubbed it off with the hem of his shirt, which prompted the fall of a half-eaten jam puff from a wayward pocket onto the ground. The boy stared at it like a condemned man would at the noose.

Kane picked it up, holding it in his hand for a few moments as if in consideration. Breakfast was still a while away, thieves were a bane in the eyes of Orphanage law and the punishment was cruel, even by the stone mage's standards. Kane glanced at the boy again, though it was safe to say it was more skeleton than boy.
Kane threw a quick glance around the courtyards, before turning and dropping the jam puff into the boy's hand. The puff was now a large stone, nearly taking up all the boy's palm.

"This is your breakfast," Kane told the boy simply, in an almost comedic, exaggerated stern voice. "Keep it in your mouth until lunchtime. Any sooner, and it won't be the only one turning to stone." The boy's eyes widened and he immediately complied, the rock jutting out of his cheeks almost painfully. Kane dismissed him, watching the boy scurry up the stairs. The boy glanced back for a moment, and an understanding passed between them. Kane had let him off easy.

Kane turned around, a flicker of a private, sardonic smile gracing his lips. Just then, he saw the spirited figure of a particular female fiend darting across the lawn, towards the forest. This earned her a raised eyebrow from Kane. Curiosity began to seep in, led by the slight temptation to follow...

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[Sei Shonagon]

Paris

• 01
• 02
• 03

• 
  

  
  

  mood

  Slightly dizzy, tired.

  
  

  
  

  location

  Nurse's office then random corridor.

  
  

  
  

  mention

  None wee.

  
  
• 
  

  
  

  outfit

  
  
  
• 
  

  
  

  tag

  nOne.

  
  

  
  

  more info

  Man had a horrible fever dream and now he's back on his sad boi shit.

  
  
  

"A dream in a nightmare."

Hot. It's hot. Ribs cutting into lungs in trembling breaths and heartbeats bleeding out into veins he tosses and turns. The usually soft sensation of heels digging into the overlap of linen and mattress now unbearable in its scorching touch. I can't breathe. The rise and fall of the pale chest hitches, all emaciated lines struggling to contain the oxygen in violent shivers but the air escaping him nonetheless through gasping lips. It's painful. As if wanting to escape the bonds of the sheets, he arches his back and twist; the invisible weights of fatigue bearing down on the lithe body in unmoving limbs.

It's painful, he tries to cry out, but no sound comes out in response, only a feeble whistle. I'm scared, eyelashes fluttering shut against the seal of closed lids, his eyes begin to taste like acid. Salty tears overflowing and intertwining with beads of labour in translucent streaks along the edges of a sharp jawline. It's painful, I'm scared, painful, scared, dying-

-I'm dying

"You'll be fine." A voice suddenly chimes from beyond, cool fingers descending in gentle strokes to then refreshingly cover his burning forehead with the flat of a palm. He winces, fear at first overwhelmingly potent in the nails that pierce the soft surface below but then- slowly and wordlessly relenting to the offered refuge as muscles relaxed and melted into their sweat trail. Tired, he was too tired to resist. If the hand so wished it, it could end it all right there in a slip around his neck. But was it truly that bad? He asks in the rise and quivering hesitation of his adam's apple. Eventually swallowing it back down with some trouble as he catches his breath. "-I miss you, I-I want to be with you. Please let me go with you." It spills out of him in a hurry, too afraid to open his eyes and confront his own screwed up expression but chasing nevertheless in expectantly parted lips. "Not yet." The hand presses colder upon his forehead and he clenches his jaws shut "Sleep now. I'll see you in the morning, Paris".

And as if the hand had placed some magical enchantment on him with its command, he couldn't endure holding on anymore. Inevitably slipping back into the dark with a tick of the clock's second hand and leaving the hand and pain behind.

When he wakes up in the morning it is to the same white peeling wallpaper as always, the room a washed out photograph of all soft edges in the light. Quiet and tranquil, as if yesterday's torture had never occured. The fine blanket of particles reminiscent of days long gone lying untouched beside his bed to the sigh of a sinking heart.

Routines are resumed and bare feet sliding upon worn floorboards he starts to make his way downstairs. The before distant murmur of children's laughter and the scent of newly baked bread easing its way in on palate and eardrums until it crashes into him. "Brother Paris!" There's the pitter-patter of footsteps and then the embraces of tiny arms "Play with us!". A group of children scuffles gleefully around him, ruddy faces looking up in sparkling eyes at the blonde. He smiles that trademark smiles of his with brows furrowed as if silently apologizing but before he can respond a blushing steps in. "Hey now! Don't swamp him the second he wakes up. You've caused Paris enough trouble as it is already, dragging him out and getting him sick like that!" The blushing barks, hot on the trail and soon neck and neck with the children. The little army immediately retreats and starts running the opposite way "Ah! Gotta go Brother! See you later!". Leaving behind a scoffing maid and a giggling Paris in the dust. The adult frowned "You shouldn't let the children run you over like this Paris. You got sick because you played with them outside in the rain the other day didn't you? You should be more careful! Your body is weak enough as it is".

Appearance sheer and wispy like glass he sure looked the part at least. A carefully cut piece of marble, honed by centuries-old currents into all hollow lines of chins and cartilage, knuckles and elbows; ghosting along the corridors like a fading memory. "I-It's fine. It-It's the least I can do as their brother." He reassured (to the best of his stuttering abilities), still gazing after the bobbing heads of his assailants as he spoke. Facing forward he started to walk again.

In truth, it was the only thing he could do. Because their days of happiness were numbered in this place they all called 'home'.

coded by weldherwings.

Spoiler: code free ver.

Hot. It's hot. Ribs cutting into lungs in trembling breaths and heartbeats bleeding out into veins he tosses and turns. The usually soft sensation of heels digging into the overlap of linen and mattress now unbearable in its scorching touch. I can't breathe. The rise and fall of the pale chest hitches, all emaciated lines struggling to contain the oxygen in violent shivers but the air escaping him nonetheless through gasping lips. It's painful. As if wanting to escape the bonds of the sheets, he arches his back and twist; the invisible weights of fatigue bearing down on the lithe body in unmoving limbs.

It's painful, he tries to cry out, but no sound comes out in response, only a feeble whistle. I'm scared, eyelashes fluttering shut against the seal of closed lids, his eyes begin to taste like acid. Salty tears overflowing and intertwining with beads of labour in translucent streaks along the edges of a sharp jawline. It's painful, I'm scared, painful, scared, dying-

-I'm dying

"You'll be fine." A voice suddenly chimes from beyond, cool fingers descending in gentle strokes to then refreshingly cover his burning forehead with the flat of a palm. He winces, fear at first overwhelmingly potent in the nails that pierce the soft surface below but then- slowly and wordlessly relenting to the offered refuge as muscles relaxed and melted into their sweat trail. Tired, he was too tired to resist. If the hand so wished it, it could end it all right there in a slip around his neck. But was it truly that bad? He asks in the rise and quivering hesitation of his adam's apple. Eventually swallowing it back down with some trouble as he catches his breath. "-I miss you, I-I want to be with you. Please let me go with you." It spills out of him in a hurry, too afraid to open his eyes and confront his own screwed up expression but chasing nevertheless in expectantly parted lips. "Not yet." The hand presses colder upon his forehead and he clenches his jaws shut "Sleep now. I'll see you in the morning, Paris".

And as if the hand had placed some magical enchantment on him with its command, he couldn't endure holding on anymore. Inevitably slipping back into the dark with a tick of the clock's second hand and leaving the hand and pain behind.

When he wakes up in the morning it is to the same white peeling wallpaper as always, the room a washed out photograph of all soft edges in the light. Quiet and tranquil, as if yesterday's torture had never occured. The fine blanket of particles reminiscent of days long gone lying untouched beside his bed to the sigh of a sinking heart.

Routines are resumed and bare feet sliding upon worn floorboards he starts to make his way downstairs. The before distant murmur of children's laughter and the scent of newly baked bread easing its way in on palate and eardrums until it crashes into him. "Brother Paris!" There's the pitter-patter of footsteps and then the embraces of tiny arms "Play with us!". A group of children scuffles gleefully around him, ruddy faces looking up in sparkling eyes at the blonde. He smiles that trademark smiles of his with brows furrowed as if silently apologizing but before he can respond a blushing steps in. "Hey now! Don't swamp him the second he wakes up. You've caused Paris enough trouble as it is already, dragging him out and getting him sick like that!" The blushing barks, hot on the trail and soon neck and neck with the children. The little army immediately retreats and starts running the opposite way "Ah! Gotta go Brother! See you later!". Leaving behind a scoffing maid and a giggling Paris in the dust. The adult frowned "You shouldn't let the children run you over like this Paris. You got sick because you played with them outside in the rain the other day didn't you? You should be more careful! Your body is weak enough as it is".

Appearance sheer and wispy like glass he sure looked the part at least. A carefully cut piece of marble, honed by centuries-old currents into all hollow lines of chins and cartilage, knuckles and elbows; ghosting along the corridors like a fading memory. "I-It's fine. It-It's the least I can do as their brother." He reassured (to the best of his stuttering abilities), still gazing after the bobbing heads of his assailants as he spoke. Facing forward he started to walk again.

In truth, it was the only thing he could do. Because their days of happiness were numbered in this place they all called 'home'.

 

[Heterological]

​

• Markus
• Kira

• 
  
  Markus opened his eyes and blinked. A brief sense of fear flared up inside of him, almost paralyzing him with terror. Then, as quick as it had arrived, it disappeared. Markus instead got out of bed almost robotically. He took a sip of water from his blue, metal thermos, and shook himself awake. His room had shelves and shelves; one shelf held adornments; another had origami; another was covered with books.
  
  The only plant in the room, a singular rose succulent, sat among the origami, surrounded by fake, paper plants. Markus had set that up intentionally, reminding himself that he wasn't the only 3D person, but that he only perceived it like that. The early schedule was painful but necessary. Markus had gotten used to it. Slowly, he stretched in his bed, hearing the pops and cracks from various joints. He sighed in contentment and got out of bed.
  
  He made his way over to a drawer and took out a towel to dry himself with in the showers. He opened his door, making sure that nobody else was in sight, and silently started walking. With every step, he could feel some tension growing. There was a sense of apprehension that built every time Markus rounded a corner, for fear of running into the red-eyed kids.
  
  Thankfully, there was no interaction. Markus showered as quickly as possible, neglecting to use conditioner, and made it back to his room alive. Then he relaxed, taking a sheet of paper from a neat stack on a shelf. His hands quickly and mindlessly folded the paper airplane with precision. It turned out great, with a wide wingspan and two winglets on either side. Markus threw it gently and watched as it sailed in the air before gently coming to a rest on his bed. Markus retrieved it and took out his pencil; deciding to start drawing some details.
  
  No doubt someone would be tormented by the red-eyed kids today, but that didn't matter to him. If you wanted to survive in the orphanage, you could not draw attention to yourself, else the kids and the adults would arrive. Markus stopped his mind's eye from thinking of scenarios, instead focusing even more on his drawing.
  
  
• 
  
  Kira opened her eyes, bright and sunny. She was a morning person, and her attitude showed it. Stretching, she popped something in her back before jumping out of bed. She poked her head out the window and felt the chilly morning breeze hit her cheek and wake her up.
  
  "WOOOOOOOO!" Kira yelled out the window, probably waking someone else up. It was going to be a great day. Stretching, she dragged a chair under the door, so it would be hard for someone to come in. Last night she had made some preparations.
  
  She cheerfully sat at her desk, where she had laid out some supplies. Specifically, a placemat, some pencil shavings, a water bottle, and a pair of unscrewed scissor parts. They weren't the best materials, but they would do for now. Kira concentrated and turned her arms robotic. Her skin tingled, metal spreading up her arms, until stopping at the shoulders. Shaking her hands to get used to the sensation, Kira smiled at the thought of adding another toy to her small collection.
  
  It was very fun. She had experimented with mechanical parts before, but her discovery that mechanical parts could be permanently attached to her robot part was recent. A small lighter had been attached to the bottom of her left palm.
  Putting a scissor part and the pencil shavings on the same pile, she grinned and turned on the lighter.
  
  After lighting a small fire and watching it burn for a couple of seconds, she opened the water bottle and poured some of it onto her robot hands. Then she grabbed a scissor part and messily tried to pull off the plastic part, leaving only the metal. She succeeded, for the most part. Her hand was heating up quite a lot but didn't melt. The final product still had thin strands of plastic attached to it, but thanks to the heat, she was able to pull apart the main plastic part. The blade was dull, but it could be grounded down to make it sharper. Deciding to leave it at that, Kira hid the blade behind her art supplies. She hid the remaining scissor part behind the desk.
  
  It was a hassle to clean everything else up. The placemat had melted slightly, and there were bits of plastic everywhere. Over the next five minutes, she collected all the loose bits of garbage in a piece of paper that was crumpled up and thrown into her trash basket. Finally, everything was done. She sighed in contentment at her new toy and changed her robot arms back to their human counterparts.
  
  Kira wasn't quite sure why she bothered doing it. She could already kill others with her robot hands; it was easy for her to bash through or crack bones. But she wanted a certain elegance for when she actually started killing for real. Blades would do for a few years, while she really started getting into it. She didn't know why she had to kill, but it didn't matter. It was like Kira was hungry. She needed to satiate an urge. Besides, there were a ton of other kids that did it, or so she had heard.
  
  Humming a happy tune, Kira got her things and skipped out her room to take a shower.
  

 

[Phayne]

Sitting amidst the dark confines of his room, the blonde haired deviant had remained almost motionless, his back pressed against the cold hard steel of the bedframe as crimson red irises seemingly devoid of life stared ahead at the wall adjacent. Almost statue-like in his demeanour, the aberrant orphan had for just over an hour been locked in a state of paralysis, almost appearing to be aware of the world around him yet not truly 'awake' and attuned to this realm of existence. Despite the appearance of the dishevelled blonde sitting upright in his bed, it was safe to say that his consciousness had remained trapped in a state akin to slumber; his spiritual self locked in conversation with the beast that lurked within.

In all honesty, Freed even if he did try, would not be able to recall a time where he had bested his cursed counterpart; the darkness that dwelled within his soul being far more powerful than any defence the orphan boy could ever dream of mustering. While their relationship had initially started out as a tug of war battle for dominance, it didn't take long for it to turn into nothing more then a game for the pair of them; a parody of what some of the other spoiled orphans seemed to struggle with as they fought their growing bloodlust. The blonde haired and formerly impressionable orphan was quick to fall victim to the temptations that the beast veiled in shadows had whispered into his ear; a world where he would not be discarded and forgotten; a union ship that bestowed him with power and pleasure to ensure that he'd stand at the very top of the food chain. The world would be at his fingertips and all he had to do was sell his soul to the devil; to sign that ethereal contract and forsake his humanity to become something... greater.

It wasn't all too surprising that the boy had turned to the beast for safety and guidance; the miasma of evil that invaded his thoughts being the only entity that had truly stuck with him from the very beginning. Unlike those who formerly played the role of 'parent', this demon had not abandoned him; it had not discarded him into a world of solitude and even if he did not know the truth of why he had been in the forest, Freed could only surmise that whoever he had once called a parent in the past had chosen to discard him; whether it was them abandoning him to the secrets that haunted the woods, or if they had merely given up on ever finding him; it didn't change the fact that nobody had ever come looking for him; a lost little boy alone in the woods.

Seeking comfort through this pact with his inner beast, their morning routines had become little more than a ritual. It was a conversation between family members, though in truth it only ever seemed to be Freed doing the talking; almost like a child excitedly telling their mother and father about all the good things he had managed to accomplish that day; finding joy in the acknowledgement of his efforts. With each story told, it was a further sign that Freed was willingly sinking ever deeper into depravity.

An hour or so had passed before the idle boy begun to stir, his eyes fluttering back to life as he stared around the room; blinking several times as he adjusted to the darkness that lurked in every corner. All around him, broken toys were scattered about the floor; mangled bodies a mere consequence of Freed attempting to cure his boredom. Across the room; a faded poster hung limply against the wall; the upper right exposed area revealing three large claw marks slanted downwards; the signs of his hunger going unsated one night. Sighing as his body adjusted to the cold air around him; the blonde haired boy had reached over to his side, pale hands grabbing away at the circle rimmed glasses that he often wore; his frail fingers gradually finding them at the furthermost edge before finally fitting them upon his face. It was another day at the white rabbit orphanage; another morning where Freed would need to enter character and adhere to the daily routine of the orphanage; a trivial requirement that he stuck to if only to prolong his stay in paradise. With a grunt; the boy slid out of bed and begun heading towards the freshly ironed and folded uniform that awaited him next to his door; a daily norm given the 'pampered' standing he had attained since embracing the design that god had intended for him.

A wolf in sheep's clothing; Freed would soon exit his room and make his way towards the communal showers; his door shutting behind him with a soft thud. Passing by several doors' Freed would begin to discard his Pyjama top along the floor; uncaring to those that would be afflicted by his antics and not bothered about whoever or whatever had seen him as he made his way to his destination. With his top half exposed, Freed entered the showers; returning the occasional 'Hello' and 'good morning' to the other orphans here. Whilst inwardly indifferent to their existence, it was a necessary price he had to pay in order to maintain the guise of an innocent orphan. It had almost become second nature for him to play this role, to wear this mask that obscured his true persona from everyone else.

Merely hunting the livestock that run amok in this house was no fun; true pleasure and exhilaration came from the methodical deconstruction of his prey; slowly gaining their trust before whittling down their inner psyche before finally breaking them. He was not a predator in the sense of hunting for food, rather he was a predator that merely hunted for sport; like a cat that toyed with their prey; Freed was the monstrosity that toyed with his victims.

 

[TheTaleTellers]

It is now 7:00 AM on ST. Peters Island! That means it is now Breakfast Time, Remember to brush your teeth before sitting at the tables of the Home. There are housekeepers running amuck and tons of fellow orphans trying to bustle to get to a seat. Absolutely NO running around/horsing around in the lunchroom or food will be revoked for the day! The meals for today are Hashbrowns, Bacon, English Muffins, Oatmeal, Scrambled Eggs, and Strawberry Smoothies for drinks! Make sure to eat your breakfast entirely, wear your uniforms, and good morning to all! ​

This will also be the start of the new posting system that is round-based(More information in OOC) Remember to Utilize communication via OOC and pay attention to the post count. After every 8 posts, More time will pass.


12:00 is the event time! ​

 

[KaramelKarma]

Kane Whitlock

filler

filler

filler

filler

filler

filler

• .
• 1
• 3
• 4
• 5
• 5
• aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

• home (filler tab)
• 
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  

  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  

  filler

  
  
• 
  

  
  

  
  
  

  location

  
  
  

  a few miles from the Orphanage, in the forest

  
  

  
  

  
  

  filler

  
  
• 
  

  
  

  
  
  

  interactions

  
  
  

  n/a

  
  

  
  

  
  

  filler

  
  
• 
  

  
  

  
  
  

  tags

  
  
  

  Coyote Alvaris BluEndings

  
  

  
  

  
  

  filler

  
  
• 
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  

  filler

  
  
• home (filler tab)

kane's theme

A momentary glare of sunlight. Kane blinked and turned his head, craning his neck slightly. His silver gaze continued to follow the fiend as she disappeared into the thick undergrowth. His brow was still raised.
The courtyards were mostly empty by now, though the stone mage could sense the vibrations of a few Blushing peppered across the property, nowhere near him. If there was a decision to be made, it had to be now.

The shadow of the tower loomed, the darkness seeming ever the more stark contrasted to the daylight. The tower took an almost threatening shape as Kane turned his back on it, daring him to defy it's will. He took the first few long strides.

And stopped in his tracks. His gaze turned towards the source, and sure enough, there it was. A few hundred feet away on the ground, stood a raven, staring in his direction. Kane's eyes narrowed. No, not from this distance.

Just then, the raven's head cocked slightly before making itself scarce. Just like the nightbird, Kane felt her coming before he heard or saw her, but sure enough, a Blushing appeared from a distance, fumbling towards him and the Orphanage dining hall. He did not recognize her, surmising her to be a newer addition, most likely Arden's jurisdiction. There was no need to stop and talk, but Kane gave her permission to speak anyway. The new Blushing's green eyes brightened and was too eager to babble away her sorry excuse for not showing up on time to prepare breakfast. Kane listened, his arms crossed while a finger tapped methodically on his forearm.

What an utter mess, he thought, almost in a pitiful manner as he watched this newest addition to the staff constantly dab at her nose with a handkerchief, traces of dried blood on it. Arden, you poor soul.

Finally, after a millenia, she came to her conclusion, her voice settling into a coy tone. "So, am I good? Good to go?" She held her breath, gazing at him. Kane, not wanting to spare a word on her, simply nodded. She visibly relaxed, giving him a swoon-inducing smile as she passed him. Kane prepared himself to resume his trek, but not before he felt a hand rest on his shoulder. He tensed immediately, nearly pulling a blade before he felt the Blushing girl lean in too close to say thank you.

"You're welcome," he answered back, almost in a mutter, his flinty stare on her intrusive hand as it slipped away. A Blushing was forbidden to make direct contact with a Candy unless given explicit permission. But at this point he had more pressing matters in mind. The familiar tolling of the bell signaled to them both that it was now breakfast time. He waited patiently for the foolish woman to leave and enter the house, his finger still tapping rhythmically on his arm to the beat of an inner clock. It wasn't enough, he thought, throwing a glance towards the tower. Thirteen more seconds.

12..
11..
10..
9..
Farther...
8..
7..
6..
5..
4..
Almost...
3..
2..
1..

Finally. She was far enough. Kane took a step forward. The shadow of the tower pressed against his back as he went out for patrol.
He had taken the dare.

𓆙​

The forest was in full bloom. It greeted him jovially, dappled in sunlight and spry with life. Kane had patrolled these woods more times than he could count, and was far from fazed. It was a marvelous show to put on - the trees could forget that their roots fed on children's blood; the animals could forget that they are the silent witnesses of the truth of the Orphanage, and the land, it could rest easy and stretch into a never-ending prison, pretending away the countless shallow graves pock-marking it's soils like a disease.

The cycle of life, went the near-automatic reasoning in his mind. Nature selects it's fittest. Just like it chose you.

Kane flinched, and for a moment, it was not the forest he saw, but the foul floors of that room, where he had first learned the tenets of survival. He clenched his jaw at his foolishness, letting the moment pass. He reinforced his footing to the ground as he walked and let the signals in, recalibrating to Lucy's position. She was at a much faster walking pace now, and Kane could not help but wonder if she was alright. He could not sense the prowling vibrations of a predator near her, and though he knew she could fend for herself, that odd seed of protectiveness swirled like the undercurrent of a much larger wave. Along with it, however, came a much more powerful sense of intrigue. A familiar drive for more tingled under his skin; more knowledge, more power, more answers to questions he could not dare himself to ask. Lucy had set aside her breakfast duties for whatever this was. What's more, she was a product of the Witch, a key component to discovering her name. But Kane knew he could not get ahead of himself, nor hope for anything more than the air-headed fiend simply going out of her way to pick some new species of berry.

Just then, a sheathing flap of the wings landed in the trees somwhere near him. Kane felt the all too familiar feeling of being watched, and a small, sardonic smile tugged at his lips. Took you long enough.

The trek continued like this for a time, with Kane adjacent to Lucy as if on his own path, but getting closer to the point where he was only half a thousand feet away from the side. And though the raven managed to escape his sharp silver eye, the feeling of being watched never ceased.
Just then, the stone mage felt his target slow down, in that characteristic fashion of one preparing to stop. Kane closed in on the distance, feeling for anything out of the ordinary and filtering out all the unnecessary vibrations. He could not sense a thing out of place, prompting him to approach close enough for the fiendish female to come into view, parasol and beaked mask and all. She had settled on a small clearing, surrounded by thick undergrowth, poised as if she were waiting on something.

No, someone.

His silver eyes sharpened in mild alarm as he felt the sudden vibrations of a new pair of feet inexplicably landing onto the ground a few meters away from Lucy, hidden in the foliage. His instincts told him to make himself scarce, but the stone mage found himself rooted there, watching Lucy perk up as the mysterious newcomer came into view.
Emra Delvaine.

Kane's eyes widened. From this distance, it was impossible to decipher the words of their conversation. He leaned a little closer, his gaze narrowing at the sight of a brown bag being exchanged from Scarlet to Housekeeper. His instincts tugged at him again, casting a worrying eye towards the powerhouse of a Scarlet. He had seen enough, they told him. Too much, one could argue. Sobering from his state of intrigue, Kane listened. Upon turning around, a gust of wind blew past him, the sting of a tiny talon grazing his cheek. A single flap of the wings and Kane knew what it was. His gaze swirled to the raven as it flew away, his sharp eye catching what he had failed to earlier in the courtyards; the dozen of tiny beady eyes staring right back at him, in a state of absolute frenzy as it cawed a blaring alarm. It made it's way towards the last place Kane could hope it would make it's perch:

On the shoulder of Emra Delvaine.

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[Lost]

Elias, Spoiled Orphan​

TeikiFox

​

Elias was loathe to dream.

When he was awake, he had control. Doubtless the Beast held some influence, but it was something he could challenge, overcome, even. In dreams, however, the minds of man and monster often meshed, the precious control he so desperate fought for thrown into disarray. And the resulting nightmares never failed to leave their mark, if only on his psyche. For that was the Beast’s playground, and its goal to was fill him with a self-hatred so complete, so potent, that to deny it would require him to forgive himself. And that was the one thing Elias could never do.

So it was that they were locked in an endless struggle, yet one that he knew he was fated to lose. And until then, the Beast would torment him.

The dream started as it always did, and always would. Elias found himself in a small forest, the red and yellows of autumn coloring trees and ground alike. Leaves shifted in the breeze as the slight smell of decay permeated the air: a memory, as vivid as the day he had lived it. Movement in his peripherals caught his attention, and he knew, as he always did, what it would be. Or more accurately, who. It was her. Andrea, his sister, and the Beast’s first victim. No, his first victim.

His hands started shaking as he turned to face her, and he couldn’t stop the tears from welling up in his eyes. The guilt never faded, no matter how many times he saw her. Nor did the hate that he felt, towards his failure, towards his lack of control, towards himself. “Andrea, I-”

“C’mon, Elias; you’re taking forever!” She called out with a laugh. A younger Elias frowned momentarily – What had he been thinking about? - before shaking it off; she was going to beat him to the house again, and then he’d never hear the end of it! With a determined glint, he ran after his sister.

It only took five minutes for Elias to realize why Andrea always beat him. He was a bit of a bookworm and frankly, that didn’t do wonders for one’s constitution. Wheezing, he stumbled to a stop in a clearing. “An, wait up! Please!” he sputtered.

His sister stopped a few feet ahead, collapsing among the colored leaves with another laugh. “Only because you asked nicely.” A few shaky steps later, and he was sitting next to her, trying in vain to catch his breath. “You really need to get out more, brother, put down your books and live a little!”

Elias rolled his eyes. “I do ‘live’ when I’m with you. Perhaps a little too much, if you ask me.”

“That’s why I rarely ask,” she countered. He looked over, attempting a glare, but couldn’t keep the growing smile off of his face. “Ha, I win!” She stood, hands on her hips, head angled upwards in triumph. Elias sighed, but the smile was still there.

“Seriously though Elias, it might do you some good to expand your horizons.” She looked away, and Elias could tell the mood was shifting to something more somber. “I won’t be around forever to do it for you.”

“Oh please, Andrea; you’re much too stubborn to die.” He quipped, but a sad smile from his sister told him she was serious. There would be no skirting this issue. “Hey, I’ll be all right. And so will you, for that matter.”

She shook her head. “No, Elias, I won’t be.” Elias froze, a chill running down his spine. That’s not what happened next. She helped me up, and we ran back to the orphanage. How do I know that? He got to his feet, uneasy, and put a hand on her shoulder. “An?” Sun was replaced with moon as his sister fell away from him with a cry of pain. Worried, he reached out to her, only to see claws in place of hands, wet with blood. Her blood. In that moment the fog of memory lifted, and Elias was forced to watch his sister die once more. He fell to his knees, though he dared not touch her. Not with these hands, with this taint.

She’d not had the same qualms, however; a cold hand gently slipped into his, glowing a faint blue, and she turned to meet his gaze. Please, don’t look at me. “Elias… not… your fault.” Lies. A cough interrupted her next words, blood dripping from her mouth, but she shook her head, determined. “I know… it’s hard… but you can… be better…” I can’t, Andrea; I’m not strong enough. She smiled, as if sensing his thoughts, and gave one last squeeze before her hand slipped away. One more shaky breath, and his sister was dead.

“No, no, no, no, no…” he whispered. “It should have been me. Why is it never me?” He knew why; the Beast would never let him die. It would force him to cling to life, even in a dream, until the day it consumed him.

Despondent, he stumbled to his feet; it was then that he noticed a small glint amidst the blood and leaves. Just as Andrea was always present, so too was this. He knew what came next, and feared it. Nevertheless, he still picked up the mirror, his last gift to Andrea, and brought the glass level with his face. The reflection he saw filled him with a deep-seated dread. For as Elias stared into the mirror…

… it was the Beast that stared back.


------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Elias stiffened as he awoke, his face wet with tears. The same nightmare, again. With a shaky breath he slipped out of his blankets and stood. A few steps carried him to a loose plank in the corner of his room; little effort pried open the secret storage he kept the items most precious in, the ones the Blushings might take away. Kneeling, he brushed past both a book and the origami crane atop it, to find what he was looking for: a mirror, the very same as the one in his dream. He gently lifted it upwards to inspect his face. A pair of blue eyes stared back, striking against his pale skin, and he sighed. Blue eyes, not red. Human, not Beast. With another ragged sigh, he sat back. I’m still me, still Elias. It was just a terrible, terrible dream. It always is. He didn’t know why he felt the need to check; if he’d lost control, he wouldn’t be around to worry about it. Still, it helped.

Elias slid the mirror back into its resting place and moved the plank back to cover it. One deep breath, then another, and he stood. A glance at the clock told him he was a little behind his morning routine. Better hurry and get dressed.

The uniform was a stiff, antiquated thing, but it fit the aesthetic the orphanage seemed to be going for. And, he supposed, there was a certain charm to it. A charm diminished by the fact that the buttons often stuck, and it was nightmarish in the summer heat, sure, but a charm nonetheless.

With uniform on and pajamas folded on his bed, he moved to open the door. Just keep your distance from the others, Elias, and keep the Beast in your dreams. You can tolerate a little solitude; let the dream serve as a reminder of what happens when you don’t. With a sigh, he stepped out of his room.

It was only a few moments after he entered the hall, however, that a young girl sped towards him. With wild hair and disheveled pajamas, she seemed every bit the new orphan her next sentence revealed her to be. It would seem that his daily goal would not be so easily achieved.

He stared for a moment, hesitating; it wasn't often people talked to him, not after he started to keep to himself. “Er, there are plenty of servants around; I suppose I could find one for you, if you'd like?"

code by aukanai --- for Lost 's use only​

​

 

[Alvaris]

Standing just inside the forest, Emra watched the house and the fiend until another presence took her attention. The soft steps were a distance away, yet heavy enough to belong to a servant. A Blushing perhaps. Or a Candy. Their forward march seemed hesitant, the shuffle of someone not yet brave enough to challenge. It pricked at her in the way a nail does before one has had time to file it. Whoever the steps belonged to were of no real importance.

She turned her gaze away from the masked fiend with the preposterous hat and to the direction of the curious sort. Emra waited. Her patience tested, tried, and true. Though, she was occasionally known to cast it aside for a quick solution. The lot in the house seemed far more arrogant than the last group. Emra, not known for her tolerance of insolence, would not hesitate to show them their place. Her focus lingered in the outsider’s direction before returning to the fiend.

The bag in her hand may not have been the first answer to the first strike, but that all depended on the weight of impertinence.

Moments passed before the fiend stopped in front of her.

“E-Emra. I hope you are well. It’s such a lovely morning,” the fiend said holding the bag toward her. “An unfortunate incident occurred last-“

“I am aware,” Emra said, cutting the servant off. She felt every death, knew every cause, and yet, the fiend insisted on providing an explanation when Emra required none. The beast shrunk at Emra’s words and remained quiet.

Cawing filled the air, breaking the silence. Readily, Emra turned, the many-eyed raven flew toward her like a shadow piercing the morning light. It slowed before resting upon her shoulder, claws clasping onto her scarlet garb. The creature tucked its wings in and snapped in the direction of the uninvited guest.

“See to it that our visitor makes it back to the mansion safely,” Emra said, her solemn expression unmoving as her eyes locked on him. Kane. The Candy. She’d come to find him slippery. Disappearing as though Emra wasn’t aware of his subterranean adventures. His existence was satisfactory. He had yet to misstep, but they all did eventually.

Lucy perked up. "Oh! I-I was followed? I apologize, I didn't mean to-"

"That is all," Emra said. "I detest incompetence." Lucy nodded and began picking at stitches that circled the upper portion of her arm. Then her eyes widened a moment, stretching the sutures across her face.

"O-oh and before you go!" She began digging through her pockets before pulling out a file that had several sheets of paper poking out. "Here is the paperwork. I've gone ahead and filled in all her information. I hope...that is to your...expectations."

Emra paused and took the file from the fiend. The beaked being stood, her eyes downcast as she traced the thread on her arm. Emra glanced in Kane’s direction, yet the fiend remained. She began bobbing from side to side, fidgeting with her hands, arms, and stitches before looking at Emra.

"Oh!" A puddle of ink bubbled up from the ground. "R-right. I'll just..." she glanced in Kane's direction as the puddle grew, reaching past the clearing they stood in. Then, like a pin dropping into a still pond, she sank into the blackness.

Emra’s gaze never averted. Even in the distance, she knew the fiend rose from the muck she disappeared in.

When Lucy appeared, she stood behind the cover of trees and shrubbery. Before her stood a cautious stone mage. A resounding BONK was followed by shushing.

After a moment Emra turned and, in one step, she was yards away from the mansion. A tower loomed before her, casting a shadow along the murky ground. Her fingers tightened around the bag in her hand. Death was most agreeable.

Coyote KaramelKarma​

 

[BasilOwO]

She shook her head as she weaved past the orphans, glancing around to make sure that she hadn't been followed. Nodding to herself, she slid into the shadows, making her way hurriedly down the hallways, weaving around the many people of the orphanage. Her secret was hers alone, and she would be damned if anyone saw her. As she kept herself within the shadows, she listened to the conversations around her. Many were some of the nicer orphans, such as Marigold, a harvest boy she had no interest in, talking with the others. It wasn't a matter of life or death at this point, she realized.

Many of the orphans, selcouth to be exact, had protected the boy from some.. darker urges she felt the need to put on him. Either sending him to "spend" A day with an awakened, or attempt to get rid of him in the best way she saw fit, murder. Of course, she knew what would happen to her if she ever found herself with her knives or even her claws ripping out his throat. A gory image indeed, though her bloodlust was only barely sated as she walked, keeping herself a ways away from the scarlets and even blushing servants that hurried down the hallways at a pace only she would deem fit as hurriedly. Of course that was no bother to her, seeing as she didn't give a damn no matter what happened to the orphans.

Taking a breath, she'd reveal herself, stepping into a room. Sliding down against the door, she'd take a deeper breath than before, the obvious tent to her eyes giving off exactly what was happening. An anger deep within her, uneasily silenced wanted to rise, and she felt the urge to allow it to consume her. But if she did that, if let that rage go, who knows what would happen. She was supposed to keep herself poised, unwilling to show her true feelings to her peers and the children she watched. The feel of ripping flesh, blood seeping onto her palms, all while her victims screams faded into a near distant echo, a reminder of what she had done only a year before.

The death of an orphan, back when she was just a blushing servant. She remembered it distinctly, not a memory, but more of a nightmare. Very few knew what had gone down that day, but when the body had been disposed of, or what was left of the poor child. The flashes of blood reminded her of just how good it felt to steal the life of a child, someone so harmless that they had not only gotten her way, but had attempted to try and remind her that she was lower, or that was what it felt like at least. Yes, she took care of them, yes she risked her life, but in the end, it wasn't her who had lost their life, it was some.. ignorant child who had no care for their safety and that bit them in the ass, quite literally.

After calming herself, she got back to her feet. Despite feeling rather drained and tired she still had a job to do, and as she made her way past the others, deep in thought, she remembered a time, before the pain, before she felt so drained and willing to kill all the time. A time when she herself would protect harvest orphans, a time now forgotten, in a red haze of blood, death and decay.

 

[Pipsqueak]

x

x

Calypso

(She/Her)

"People who allow themselves to be hurt deserved it."

Interactions: Random Orphan, Ares, Marigold

Mood: Playful

Tags: @Shadow Alpha @Madochi

Location: Dining Hall

Why do all the monsters come out at night?

xx

xx

xx

xx

When Memories Break

BadWabbitz

Drip
Drip
Drip
Small water droplets fell from soaked, tangled golden hair as Caly made her way to the Dining Hall for breakfast. The smell of eggs, muffins, bacon and other things she couldn't quite place filled the air around her despite being a few halls down from her destination. Her mouth watering and murder still fresh in her mind, the little orphan couldn't help but stop as another came down the hall towards her, probably having accidentally overslept and now had to rush to get their shower out of the way before getting found out and possibly harshly reprimanded for their incompetency. A small smile that didn't quite reach icy blue eyes made its way onto Caly's face before skipping over to the other kid. She was in a very playful and very... hungry mood and figured she could have just a bit of fun before her meal.

"Hello there." Caly waved innocently to the unknown (and clearly very fearful) kid. It was obvious by the way he jumped at her voice that he wasn't quite trusting of anyone here at the orphanage. Caly had seen this almost paranoid demeanor before in other kids and sometimes even servants. They made for easy prey despite their cautiousness.

"Oh. Hello..." The older boy's eyes darted not towards Caly, but instead around the hallway.

"Oh it's ok, there aren't any servants in this hall. They're all busy preparing food. What are you doin' down here anyways? Aren't you hungry? I know I am." A nervous chuckle escaped the kid, who at this point finally turned to face her.

"Uh...no, not really. I'm actually- I'm a bit busy right now kid, excuse me." He side-stepped to continue on his way, but Caly matched his step, blocking him again. She cocked her head, the smile still etched on her expression as if it was sculpted there. She shook her head quickly, dismissing his urgency.

"I'm Caly. It's nice to meet you," She curtsied, then continued, "did you know I like tigers? I'm actually practicing my pouncing." The kid nodded hesitantly, unsure what to make of her strange behavior.

"Tigers pounce on people they don't like." She stared at him now, watching his expressions closely. The older boy shifted nervously now, becoming antsy.

"That's very cool, I'm sure you're...doing great." Another nervous chuckle. Caly didn't laugh with him.

"Want me to show you?"

"Kid.. er, Caly? I'm really busy ri-" Caly cut him off mid sentence as she sprang up and wrapped her arms around the kid's neck, forcing him to fall back onto the floor with a loud bump!

"GET O-" Again he was cut off, this time Caly forcing her weight onto his head, causing him to smack it hard against the wooden floor beneath them. Before he had time to throw her off she was up and gone, laughing cheerfully on a successful pounce. Did he really think she was going to hurt him? What an idiot. She could hear his strangled sobs as she turned the corner and made her way into the Dining Hall. Many kids were already here before her, pushing and arguing to find the best seats. Caly looked around for Freed, but instead ended up spotting little good boy Marigold and his puppy. Caly skipped joyfully over to them.

"Roll over little puppy! Roll over and I'll give you a treat!" She commanded, her index finger drawing a circle in mid air to demonstrate. Ares was a fun kid to tease, and she couldn't pass up the opportunity.

♡design by rabbitswarren, coded by uxie♡

 

[Heterological]

• Markus
• Kira

• 
  
  Markus walked out of his room, having brushed his teeth. A steel necklace was cold against his neck; a piece of Kevlar glued underneath his bracelet itched. It was a small price to pay. To both match them and to keep up his appearance of vanity, as much as he hated it, he also had a gilded bracelet and a ring with a fake jewel. His cloak-thing was wrapped tight around his neck, to keep prying eyes from seeing things.
  
  His stride was fast-paced; when he arrived in the cafeteria room, it was mostly empty. Markus quickly walked in line, taking a tray and completely ignoring the shenanigans of a young kid beside him. He served himself some scrambled eggs, a few strips of bacon, and a strawberry smoothie. One of the only things White Rabbit Orphanage got right: the food.
  
  Retiring to a corner seat, Markus ate slowly, watching other children pass by. He could only see two or three red-eyed kids, but it was certain there were way more. Inevitably some red-eye would probably stab someone and rip out their guts, or burn them alive, or something equally as horrifying.
  
  Shutting down his imagination, Markus shoved a forkful of egg into his mouth and started thinking. He couldn't last that much longer. At most, Markus would make it four or five more years before he would either get killed by a red-eye or snap and get killed by the owners. His goal was to stop him from doing so as long as possible. The only question was, how? Emotional stress was a big thing to combat, especially when you couldn't trust anyone.
  
  He needed to alter the rules that he had been standing by for the past decade. Markus needed to accommodate for his mental health, not just his outside appearance. However, he couldn't trust anyone, and he couldn't let off steam without thinking of the orphans who had all died in his lifetime. Markus didn't remember them all, but he knew that one or two had been his close friends. They had been the last friends he had ever had, and he wasn't going to get another lest they get killed.
  
• 
  
  Kira did not like the dresses. Uncomfortable, hot, tight. She preferred the fuzzy and loose pajamas. The only advantage that the dress had was all the places something could be hidden, like a spare cookie. Or a blade.
  
  It's not like she was planning to kill anyone, but Kira wanted to try sharpening it, or at least picking off all the plastic bits during outside time. It would be cool if she could have a switchblade built in her arm to stab kids with by the end of the week.
  
  Excitedly walking to the cafeteria, she fantasized about how exactly she'd do it. It'd be late at night, Kira would sneak into a different dorm, owned by a kid her age. She'd hide in the bed covers — no, she'd hide behind the door. Then, when the kid closed the door, she'd pop out with her knife and stab the girl — maybe a boy — in the... stomach, chest, groin... so many options!
  
  Kira was smiling contentedly by the time she reached the cafeteria. She instinctively moved past the white feathers that followed some other person that she didn't know. Absentmindedly, she served herself some food before sitting down in a random cafeteria seat. There she blocked out the noise of the outside world, going back into her imaginary little scenario.
  
  After the girl bled out, Kira would smear blood all around the room, maybe create a few scorch marks, and then make ligature marks and small cuts on the arms and legs, to make it look like the girl was tortured, creating terror. After that, Kira would go into her room and, with a full water bottle, clean the blood off her hands before disposing of the other tools. It was a fun thought, but Kira hadn't tried anything yet, due to lack of tools. She had only had her metal body, but now, she could add stuff. Maybe a gun, if she could get her hands on one.
  
  Bored, she thought of another thing to entertain her. What was the best way to kill?
  
  Knives would be quite satisfying, she was sure. Fire was difficult, but it had the biggest payout: pain, terror, writhing, plus the added bonus of burning away any incriminating evidence. Would torture be more satisfying? After a brief moment, she concluded that yes, torturing victims would be better than fire. But Kira enjoyed creating terror, more than anything else. Emotional scarring was key to make a satisfying kill. Not just for the victim, but for the community at large.
  
  Maybe, if she had a partner, it would be easier? Thinking about it, she nodded. It would be much easier to score a kill if Kira had someone else to rely on. Casting a look across the room, she saw many people. Some of them were conflicted; that wouldn't do for what she had in mind. Her gaze landed on a boy her age, with blond hair. He seemed to be quite withdrawn. Recalling some memories of him, Kira knew that he was like her. It wouldn't be hard to convince him to plan something out. But he was kinda scary... what was his name, again? F... something starting with an F. Fred? Yeah, Fred was his name. Kira resolved to finish her food, and then strike up a conversation with Fred.
  

 

[Coyote]

"A Gentleman ought not to poke his nose in the business of others."​

Their eyes locked on one another. The Scarlet's expression was, as usual, nigh unreadable. But to his clandestine relief, she did not seem in the mood to teach a lesson. Instead, Emra turned to Lucy and spoke to her, though judging from the fiend's reaction, they were far from honeyed words. His flight response was poised to kick him in the shin rather hard at that moment, but it was swiftly blocked by the interest piqued by a new exchange. Kane had to peer closer in order to catch the documents slipped into Emra's hand before he was met with another soulless gaze in his direction. Kane did not dare meet the woman's eye however, not wanting her to mistake it for an unruly challenge. The minute he glanced back, Lucy was nowhere to be found. His brow furrowed slightly, captured in a mild state of momentary confusion. Where had she gone?

His answer stood behind him, arm raised and parasol poised to deliver it's verdict. A sharp but short bonk landed at the back of the stone mage's head, resulting in a hiss from Kane.

Lucy lowered her parasol as her inky portal retreated back to nothingness. How could she have missed such an obvious thing? The fiend was flush with embarrassment, as much as her mask could express it, at least. She was lucky Emra failed to spot the wildflowers she pocketed all along the way. Lucy was always prone to distraction and it often got her into all sorts of curious situations. Being followed by the stone mage without her knowledge was one of them. What would Emra think of her? Did she hate her? She despises inadequacy! She said so! Is she inadequate? Heila always told her that she was suited for the job! Oh dear, oh dear! She had to make it up to Emra. Somehow, someway. But now was not the time!

"Shhhhhh!" she said but in her frantic scramble to collect herself, it came out more like a child upset that their hiding spot had been exposed. "What are you doing here, Kane? I got in big, big trouble!"

The stone mage rubbed the back of his head, more than a little miffed. But begrudgingly, he knew where the fiend was coming from. Ideally, he should have known better than to have intervened. Yet at that moment, the exchange of goods he had witnessed appeared before his mind's eye, stoking the fire of ambitious curiosity. A pause.
"I was out patrolling," Kane answered neutrally, perhaps a tad too quickly. "I sensed you, and decided to check in, since I know you have never gone out this far." The stone mage looked as if he was to admit something else, an almost sheepish glint in his silver eyes. But he stayed mum, his gaze solidifying.

Lucy frowned and crossed her arms. She poked her head about and found that Emra was still waiting expectantly. The fiend snagged Kane by the arm and started leading him away, grumbling all along the way. The stark crunching of leaves beneath her feet told him she was upset, but being upset was not in Lucy's nature. "Yeah well, er..." could she fault him? No no no no, of course she could! He should know better! But... "I'm plenty looked after by Heila." They rediscovered the trail and she let him go with a sigh.

Though his pool of experience was admittedly small in terms of dealing with female emotion, even the stone mage could tell that Lucy was irate. The normally cheerful, light-hearted female fiend had a vice-like grip on his arm and an unusual harsh pep in her step. This disquieted Kane, and in him awakened a small part that almost felt guilty. Not only for his intervention, but for the idea of being the cause of her distress. But there will be no apology, his pride stubbornly told him, flicking the ghost of guilt aside. At the mention of the Witch, Kane's expression soured slightly, lifting his chin in that characteristic arrogant fashion of his. "Oh yes, quite the feat for her, all sequestered in her quarters." The sarcasm was evident, though it was almost just as certain that it flew over Lucy's head.

The fiend was, as always, oblivious, continuing to drag her parasol along, drawing lines in the dirt as they made their back to the mansion. Her hand found itself into one of her pockets and she pulled out a single yellow wildflower and looked at it. She glanced over at Kane.
"Well, she spends most of her time sleeping. It is quite incredible what she can do," she murmured, trying a small smile. She stopped.
"I look out for you too, you know," Lucy said suddenly, "A gentlemen ought not to poke his nose in the business of others." Her usual teacherly demeanor had already begun to return. She took a step towards him, "Poke your nose here instead. The forest is filled with all sorts of wonderful scents this time of year." Lucy set the wildflower behind his ear before giving him a smile like honey in the sun.
"Now! We ought to hurry back! The children should be having breakfast by now and the last thing we need is to clean up a food fight!" she began to skip down the path with an almost weightless bounce to her. Her sun hat and dress bobbed to the rhythmic steps of the masked fiendish maid.

Kane watched as the female fiend delicately picked out a treasure from her pocket, understanding why he had felt her stop so many times on her way to Emra. It was a pretty little thing, it's qualities seeming to shine that much brighter in the hands of Lucy. Kane averted his gaze the moment the fiend glanced over to him however, in a habit of arrogance and indifference. His attention was drawn to her again though as she spoke. She seemed much smaller than she was all of a sudden, her voice almost tender. Then, she stopped in her tracks, prompting for the stone mage to follow suit, a dubious brow raised.

A gentleman, his thoughts echoed the word, tasting the foreign concept. Kane could call himself many things, but a gentleman was not one of them. But what did it matter what he called himself? Something in his actions had convinced Lucy, after all. Kane felt a bit at ease as he noticed the fiend's usual self seeping back in like gentle waves lapping over stone. There was no denying that the fiend had a good point; Lucy had covered for him a number of times in the past, especially where his Catacombs were involved. Even in daily, menial tasks she always had a supportive word to utter, a helping hand to give. Almost subconsciously, the weight bearing down on his soul lifted, his muscles relaxing further as the fiend stepped closer to him. Her hand was raising as she spoke, her voice as soft as silk, somehow soothing his usual instinctive reactions to back down as her hand made contact. The fresh smell of wildflower filled his nose for a moment, before the stem tickled the back of his ear.
Then, that smile.

Something within cracked. It was delicate, fine as a blade of grass, a sliver piercing right at the center of his being. And through this crevice, a thin flow of untapped emotion, trickling into the folds of his skin, erasing the lines of his usual scowl, into the light behind his eyes as it washed away the cynicism, and even into the fabric of his soul as it was gently led out of it's cage. His true self held possession of his body in that moment, revealed and exposed.

Exposed.

The alarm sounded. This was not the Catacombs, his subconscious cried out indignantly, cowering from the invasive rays of sunlight as they shone on the backs of tall, monstrous trees. In an instant, the flow evaporated under the summer forest heat and his soul was harshly put back where it belonged. Ice began to creep back into his gaze, his expression and body language settling back into old habits. The moment had passed, like they always do.

Lucy must have known it too, for it was she who reacted first, acting chipper, almost fully back to her normal self. Kane's gaze followed her figure as it flowed with an almost unnatural grace, imbued with all the jeu d'esprit of one unconcerned with the matters of the soul, as if proving that happiness seemed to only truly exist on the shoulders of ignorance after all.

"What's bouncing around that head of yours?" she called to him with a playful skip to her tone.

"The young ones," he answered her, a ghost of a derisive smile on his lips. "And the gift of absolute chaos that awaits us." The fiendish maid laughed lightly at the thought.

"That reminds me! Just yesterday I was cleaning the children's bed sheets when out of the corner of my little eye, I spied a sneaky little bird! Oh, she was just the most lovely thing..."
All along the way, the conversation continued with the usual pointless pleasantries doled out by Lucy, who delighted in telling stories of one orphan or other. Unlike his affair with the new Blushing maid, it seemed much easier to listen to Lucy, as if oddly some part of him just had to capture every word she said. At times he supplemented his own satirical, sarcastic comment or two in response, but most of the time, he found himself content to just watch and listen.

Once the pair made it to Orphanage grounds, it was roughly fifteen minutes into breakfast. They climbed the steps and both found themselves reaching for the handle first in their haste. Kane, reminded of what Lucy had told him earlier, found himself opening the door for the fiend, who threw him a small smile and a passing curtsy before disappearing inside. Kane was about to follow suit, before a certain flower fell from his ear onto the ground.

The stone mage stared at it, realizing he had forgotten it's existence. The memory of feeling vulnerable seized him for a moment, his jaw clenching. Dangerous, a whisper cooed in his ear, echoing lessons beaten into him from long ago.
His boot stood precariously close to the yellow flower, crushing on the base of it's stem. Duty called out to him in the form of rambunctious children in the mess hall. If there was a decision to be made, the time was now.

Kane bent down and there, beneath the cracks of the floorboards, tiny tendrils swirled and a singular, black eye glared at him. Just the faintest glimpse of the fiend was all he was afforded before it vanished once more. He stood, his attention now on the flower between his fingers. The stem was hanging loose in two places, already showcasing the flower's inevitable weakness. Yet he gave no time for consultation; not from his thoughts, nor from his subconscious. The flower turned to stone in his hand and he slipped it into his breast pocket and went back inside.

From the Mess Hall, the rush of steps and unrestrained singing could signal only one thing. Lucy thrust the door open with a triumphant note in her song before turning towards the orphans in various stages of eating breakfast. Some faces were happy, others indifferent, still others annoyed but Lucy would never let that deter her.

"Good mooooooorning~!" her voice filled the hall as several children got up from their chairs to greet her.

"Oh ho ho, lovelies, how are you all this beautiful morning!" she knelt down. A swarm of children embraced her, each of them recounting their day despite having so much of it to go. Many of them just wanted any excuse to talk to her but they all spoke out of turn.

"Now now! How about you all sit back down to finish your scrumptious breakfast. Then during play time, we can find a nice spot by the trees to read!" the young children gave a collective gasp before they all scattered back to their seats. If there was anything that could leave Lucy glowing brighter than a sunflower at noon, it was the sight of children intermingling and laughing in all the joyous moments this orphanage had to offer. Lucy looked up at the ceiling. The plain wooden boards stared back. There was nothing there.

COLLABORATIVE WITH || KaramelKarma ||

MENTIONED || Alvaris ||


​