❝ Scattered Dust ❞ } a witch roleplay

[Xaeli]

E L Y S I A
xxx( rank: las estrellas ) ( location: fiddler ) ( tags: fleuretta & katherine )


it was both amusing and comforting to see that elysia wasn't the only one getting excited for the prospects of fleuretta's magical findings, watching with bright eyes as katherine bombarded the hecate with questions. the young witch gave a heart-warming giggle as the luna apologised for her enthusiasm, which was something that elysia had to do quite often whenever she got worked-up about anything that managed to spark her interest. the queue eventually shuffled along, and with katherine offering to treat them to some breakfast, it seemed that this day just kept getting better. "oh, thanks kath," elysia replied before her forever present smile managed to grow at the thought of saving her breakfast-money for something to contribute to her garden. maybe she could buy some more seeds? she had been thinking about adding some more herbs to her collection of greenery, but it wasn't exactly the best time to be thinking about her beloved plants as she stepped up to the counter. "could i please have a mocha and a cinnamon-apple muffin?" she asked politely, pointing lazily to one of the golden muffins that had caught her eye in the display case.

elysia stepped away from the counter just in time to see flueretta looking over some notes, her curiosity rising as she gave a peek at what was written on the paper. the estrellas could easily assume that it was a list of items they would need. elysia's eyes went straight to the third item: chamomile and lavender. that's probably what flora needed her help with, which would be no problem at all considering she had a plentiful amount of lavender blooming in her garden at the moment, and there should have been a few camomile blooms as well. "easy peasy," she whispered, giving a small nod, starting to work out that this ritual would probably have something to do with a relaxed mental state, perhaps even sleep? considering camomile and lavender were used to aid with calming the mind, this was probably a safe assumption.

in no time at all, elysia's order was called out, and she ambled quite happily over to the barista to take her pipping hot mocha and golden cinnamon-apple muffin which had been placed neatly in a small brown paper bag. her mouth started to water at the thought of that crisp muffin accompanied by the rich chocolate-coffee mixed tones of her mocha. a perfect breakfast. elysia was quick to take the muffin out of it's bag, letting herself take a small bite just to starve off the overwhelming urge to devour it whole. standing back with fleuretta and katherine, she would wait to see if they wanted to move outside yet to continue a safer discussion without the danger of eavesdroppers, or if they wanted to linger in the fiddler for a little while longer. elysia had never really been the kind of person to take lead anyways.

A Y V I N
xxx( rank: el hueco ) ( location: blackwater woods ) ( tags: callantha )


straight away, ayvin took note of the clenched fists that callantha kept close to her sides. whether this was a defensive or offensive stance, she didn't really care. it seemed that she had been able to pull a reaction out of the pyromaniac. ayvin could only chuckle at the girl's words, knowing well that she had never really been in full control of her overwhelming fire-abilities as long as they had been coven-sisters. ayvin would be genuinely surprised if callie ever had a true control over this fire, which is what lead her to disregard her statement about learning control, though she did have a retort in regard to the mentioning of her own magic. "oh please, you don't know a thing about darker magic. as long as you show the craft a level of respect it's surprisingly easy to wield." ayvin avoided using the word 'control' when it came to blood and dark magic. one did not control the craft, one had to submit and channel the darker forces, it was practically impossible to truely hold a leash-like control on the type of magic that she had resorted to. but that was something that she had come to terms with quite a while ago.

ayvin could hear the anger that seeped into callantha's words, questioning why exactly the hueco had chosen such a path. she furrowed her brows at this, subduing the memories of her first desperate calls to the darker magic. "antonia was all i had. the coven did barely anything to try and find her; to bring her back. but i was willing to try anything, and in the end, i will sacrifice everything to get her back." ayvin had to take a deep and shuddering breath, ignoring the pain that echoed in her chest. she had already sacrificed so much in her quest to bring antonia back, and she had no plans to stop anytime soon.

she forced herself to look callantha in the eyes. "this coven was suppose to be built on loyalty, but as soon as antonia vanished you all began leading flueretta without a second thought. if we really are so similar, callie, you'd be willing to do anything for your real hecate."

[turpitude.]

⋆ m a r c e l l e t t e ;;
___↳ where : on the move, mood : anxious; slightly excited, tagged : arwen


marcellette was taken aback by the sudden warmth that wrapped around her small hand, consuming it in its large size as it tugged her along gently. the only telltale sign of the discomfort she felt though, was the lopsided smile she wore on her face as she followed behind arwen. to the witch who grew up in a household where the idea of showing love through physical means was madness, holding hands was a bit unusual and made marcel self-conscious as she debated whether or not she should hold arwen's hand back. thankfully, the male witch's misuse of the word "cut" made her chuckle and chased most of the awkwardness she felt away. "It's 'split'," marcel corrected her friend. "you say 'let's split', not 'let's cut'. it's weird." she told him with a chuckle, sometimes the english language even confused to her, thankfully it was her first language, unlike poor arwen.

she hoped that if she corrected him, he wouldn't make the same mistake in front of an unforgiven crowd that would make fun of his misuse of words. emerging from within the library, marcel had to squint as the sunlight's glare blinded her and made her head throb for a brief second around her temple, a pain she got every time she stepped into a brighter environment. it wasn't ideal but she was used to the pain of her eyes adjusting by now, nothing like how she was when she was young and it first started happening; she thought she was a vampire. marcel snickered quietly at her past self, she was one cringy little girl, but who wasn't. she would bet a hundred dollars that even arwen had done something in his past that made his heart clench and his toes curl with embarrassment. looking over her shoulder, marcellette had to rake her hand through her blond hair to stop the loose strands from being pulled into her face by the autumn wind that surrounded them as she smiled at arwen who was behind her.

" thanks arwen." she said, addressing his gentleman behaviour as he held the door open for her. if only the rest of the boys in burfield knew how to treat a woman, maybe than marcellette wouldn't play with their hearts like they were her's to do whatever she wanted to with. marcel was known for flirting with boys and stirring up drama, not only was it fun for her but she felt like it was what she deserved; if boys liked to play with girl's hearts, why couldn't she play with theirs? refocusing her thoughts back onto the boy in front of her, she replied to his answer. "Ithe fiddler sounds great." she beamed back at him as she gave a slight tug and started to lead him down the library steps."after do you wanna hang at the stadium, or no?" she asked, her grey eyes staring at the sidewalk that stretched before her.

[lokean]

A r w e n . . . male // estrella // marcelette // they're going somewhere
Arwen bit the inside of his lip when Marcelette corrected his language, being careful to catalogue the information for later. Friends correcting him didn’t throw him off the way strangers correcting him did. They meant well, he knew. They were only helping. Strangers, though. Arwen has learned that strangers could be malignant, that some would collect his misspoken words to use against him like rubber bullets and bruise his already-fragile linguistic ego. When everyone spoke arabic, Arwen was a shining conversationalist with anyone who started them, comfortable and solid gold. When nobody’s poke arabic, though, Arwen wouldn’t lead anything. Conversation wasn’t his strength, he spoke with those who were unafraid to correct him politely. He spoke mostly though, arabic or not, with his covenmates. Was most comfortable around them, and Marcel was no exception. Split, not cut. He would remember that. For now, he tucked the information into the back of his mind and walked beside the girl in happy silence.

When he noticed that she was fighting her hair out of her face, he reached into his satchel and produced a pant tail holder from a little pocket, offering it to her. He so seldom wore them, only ever pulling his hair back when he was studying and didn’t want it in his face. The red elastic felt like muscle between his fingers, dead sinew and a fibrous middle. That had always bothered him, just a little, that it felt so real. It made him imagine a snake, twisting between his fingers.

Marcelette began to lead him, and Arwen followed trustingly. He stepped over a couple of cracks in the sidewalk and watched the ground as well, mulling over his coven sister’s invitation to hit the stadium. After a second he nodded, hair bouncing. “Yeah.” He tensed. He’d nearly said he would be happy to go as long as he didn’t have to go home, but that was a can of worms he didn’t want to open. Arwen’s private life was kept private almost expertly, and while He tried to talk as much as anyone would let him to flex his english, but his life was never the subject. He hated to talk about himself.

[SilentMelody]

－ callantha jade devereaυх
( sexuality ) lesbian ( rank ) las estrella ( location ) blackwater woods ( tags ) ayvin

it definitely didn't seem that easy to callantha -- both black and dark magic (at least the ones she'd seen) seemed to take control of the person rather than being in control of the person. then again, she'd only seen those types of magic two times in her life. she pursed her lips and only gazed blankly at ayvin in response, not bothering to speak aloud. callantha may not be in very good control of her fire-wielding abilities, but she'd never let it take control of her. she was too stubborn for that. "i know the gist of darker magic, at least. and i know not to mess with it," callantha finally said.

she was slightly ruffled when ayvin actually mentioned her name -- antonia. "ayvin..." callantha started to murmur softly, but she was cut off by the el hueco harshly.

"i...i never really met her. antonia. i never knew her as a hekate, and fleuretta was the one who took me in. you forget that i'm newer in the coven, and i don't know if antonia would have done the same. if she were the hekate, i don't know if i'd be here right now," she admitted, her response catching a rough tone as well. "but i know that doesn't matter to you."

[turpitude.]

⋆ m a r c e l l e t t e ;;
___↳ where : on the move, mood : anxious; slightly excited, tagged : arwen


long hair was never an ideal look for marcellette, at least not when it came to her own sandy blond hair that was already impossible to work with when it only reached down to her shoulders. the golden strains wrapped around her face, attacking her like a rabid dog, now imagine if it was long? when arwen, being the sweet creature he was, offered her a spare elastic, marcel eagerly stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and turned around to snatch the elastic band. with the band around her left wrist, she began to rake her fingers through her hair until she had formed a neat bun that marcellette tied up with the elastic.

as they waited for her to finish up with her hair, which wasn't long at all due to the fact she didn't really care if her hair looked like a disaster, as long as she wasn't choking on it anything was good, arwen agreed to go with her to the stadium. "good," marcel said but instead of turning around and continuing to drag her companion down the street with her she stared at him with her steel grey eyes. marcel wasn't a fool, she knew how to read people and she would have to be the biggest idiot in burfield to not have noticed the way arwen had tensed up after giving his reply, but as stated, marcel was no fool. if the fellow witch didn't plan on saying what was worrying him than marcellette wasn't going to pry. rather the girl gave a gentle squeeze to his hand that was in hers as she turned around and continued walking.

"do you know what you're gonna get?" she questioned, hoping to spark a conversation, and maybe arwen's answer would give her an idea of what to get herself. marcellette was usually just waking up when the small shop started closing their doors, meaning that the girl rarely went to the coffee shop unless it was a special occasion, and today was; marcel was up before noon on the weekend. rather than a sweet pastry, the witch wants something savoury and filling, but when she thought of breakfast her stomach became queasy. maybe she would just get an onion bagel with vegetable cream cheese, that always seemed to satisfy her stomach without making her sick for the rest of the day.

[lokean]

A r w e n . . . male // estrella // marcelette. katherine. elysia. fleuretta. // fiddler
When the girl's eyes landed on him, Arwen went stock still, avoiding eye contact with a will as the feeling of paranoia washed over him. The air around him was suddenly too cold, and silently, quickly, he willed i tto warm up just a little. Did she know what he was going to say? How he had nearly told her that he wasn't as happy as his friends assumed he was? Most assumed since Arwen was relatively well-off, his family life was lax and the Ressaelers ran like a well-oiled machine. He always laughed - it couldn't be further from the truth. His mother watched him every second like a wolf, his sister was beginning to question just where he had begun to run off to whenever the coven gathered, and he couldn't get out of his father's shadow, no matter where he went. His mother assumed he was going to a law school, but Arwen was leaning more towards social working, with a minor in creative writing. He wanted to escape the vicious cycle it seemed this family was stuck in.

"As much espresso as they are selling to me," Arwen joked, but he was only half joking. He could use the energy and hanging out with Marcelette seemed it may get awkward; he didn't know if she had sussed him out earlier and quite frankly, didn't want to. He was pulled from his thoughts by the ambiance of the coffee shop and the way that the music playing overhead just muffled conversation enough. Usually, Arwen found the genre they were playing annoying, but a distraction was a distraction and he would take what he could get. He caught sight of Fleuretta, Katherine, and Elysia and tugged Marcel over gently as he started towards the end of the line. They'd catch up in a minute. Arwen let go of Marcelette's hand. "You?"

[turpitude.]

⋆ m a r c e l l e t t e ;;
___↳ where :fiddler, mood : indecisive, tagged : arwen


a light-hearted chuckle slipped from marcel's pale lips as arwen answered her jokingly as they walked into the crowded fiddler. the witch rarely visited the small coffee shop, but she wasn't surprised to see so many people, including a few familiar faces at the head of the line, huddling together. her smile faltered for a heartbeat as she debated calling out to the other witches but she decided otherwise, she didn't want to draw attention to the three witches who looked like they were discussing something important, something coven related. rather she scratched the back of her head, her fingers pulling out a few strains of golden hair from her bun, as she studied the menu that presented itself at the front of the shop so all could see it. she nibbled the inside of her cheek slightly as she thought about what to order.

"hmmm..." she said out loud, vocalizing the internal debate she was having. "I'm stuck between the onion bagel and just a long black coffee?" she asked arwen, because if the choice was up to her she'd just get one of those, tragically she only had enough cash in her wallet to just by one of those breakfast treats, so she eagerly asked arwen for his help.

as they stood in the back of the line, marcellette could feel an awkwardness growing between them, one that hadn't been their previously when they were at the library. she wanted to say something to help ease the tension but she feared it would only make the air heavier around them so instead she ignored the problem and attempted to lighten the mood by changing the topic to one about what she should get. internally she was scolding herself for noticing how the boy had faltered earlier when they were walking, that small moment was probably what had caused this oddness. yet being the drama queen she was, she could almost smell the secrets he held, and it was tempting to interrogate him like the cops did in the movies she watched. she would've definitely been the bad cop, and the sexy one, she thought to herself. the only thing keeping her on her leash was the idea of hurting one of the witches in her coven, nothing could replace them and marcel didn't want to lose them, any of them. so marcel bit her tongue and kept her questions to herself.

[vega.]

───── - ◉ - ─────
Sybil Mckarthy
sixteen
cisfemale
heterosexual
human

tags open
location town; streets
───── - ◉ - ─────

Once Sybil had perceived herself as unbreakable, but the recent events had proved her not to be so. As much as she tried not to lose faith in her own abilities, it was hard to ignore that she wasn't as tough as she ought to be. The girl sat on a wooden bench parallel to the road, her arm which was set in a cast frustratingly useless at her side. She still had mobility in her elbow, but it still proved difficult to pick anything up. Instead she used her one good hand to prop up a paperback and one moveable finger to turn the pages. It was almost embarrassing, and Sybil was determined that she could do anything she needed that do during her daily life.

She had never broken a bone in her body before. The cast was the result of a fall to find her horse that sent her crashing into a fence with hardly any other injuries other than the fracture. It’s been two weeks and the most she could do now was ride the trails with a western style grip and train her gelding to tolerate shadows and and sudden movements. She jumped small fences with no reins and spent the afternoons at the stables that were hardly a mile away despite her mother getting upset with her fall and warning her it wasn't safe, but it would take more than that to get hr to stop, and who would right her horse if she weren't there?

A breeze made the pages flutter in her grasp. Sybil glanced at the text books next to her she picked up from her teachers for the year and with a sigh shut the book and tried to pick up all the academic material and shove them into her bag. To he fortune, both the bag and the books toppled over to the ground, and Sybil used her only available hand to swing her bag back up on the bench and pick up the textbooks one by one. It was going to be an interesting year, give or take.

[turpitude.]

✧ d e l p h i n e ;;
___↳ where : o'riain stadium , mood : irked, tagged : caell


with an extra large raspberry smoothie gripped firmly in her right hand and a half ate jelly-filled doughnut in the other, delphine could proudly tell herself that she was almost full, almost. admittingly the girl could probably eat a cow by herself if the opportunity ever presented itself, tragically there were no live cows to be offered to the blue-hair girl, at least not in burfield. so, in the end, she could probably eat a cow, the idea still stands. sure a doughnut and extra large smoothie would soothe her but it wouldn't be a surprise if she returned to the fiddler or another food source within the hour. mostly when she was walking. delphine figured that her large appetite came from all of the energy she spent up while fighting and walking the streets of burfield at night, cause, not surprisingly, fighting makes people tired. and hungry. and delphine fought almost every single day.

it wasn't that delphine particularly loved the activity, actually, she did, but most often than not the fights she got into was due to her black-out temper. if you angered fina a lot, which wasn't difficult at all, you could probably make her blackout, but it isn't something that would be recommended. she wasn't known for losing, not even against the big bad boys who normally stirred up trouble. if you angered the beast within the girl you weren't safe, but if you decided that today was the day you'd play with your own fate, you're better off just fighting her while her mind was still there. for some reason, the people of burfield liked to gamble with their own fate, which meant the girl was often fighting, although she didn't mind. it was a great way to keep her fit and entertained. without all of the fights in her life, delphine's life would be terribly dull and painful, mostly with her family. just the idea of her perfectionist mother and prideful father made her gag on the sugary food she forced herself to swallow.

gobbling up the last piece of her delicious doughnut, delphine's hazel eyes landed on a metal truck, her stomach grumbled in response as if it already knew what the truck was there for. sucking the sugar off of her fingers she made her way towards the food truck that read cherri's cookies in bold, attention-grabbing, letters. there was a bounce in her step that made her curly blue hair come alive with every movement she made until soon she was in front of the truck's window, her eyes scanning the menu although in her heart she already knew what she wanted; the daily cookie. delphine was a daredevil, which too be honest was kind of obvious, she loved trying new things even if it was something as little as trying a new cookie. "hey, uh..." she flickered her gaze to the blonde inside, of course, it was a blonde. the girl inside only ignored her voice, too occupied by what looked like a drawing, delphine wasn't too sure, it was kind of difficult to look past the counter with her height, all she knew for sure was that the girl had completely ignored her voice.

annoyance was clearly visible on delphine's face, but who wouldn't be annoyed? she was a customer, she was the number one priority, and if a worker ignored her request, then shame on them! in response to the rude behavior,delphine slammed her empty fist onto the metal counter, the sound of flesh against a solid surface made a loud bang that made a few kids nearby look over before they resumed whatever activities they were up too, fina didn't really care. "excuse me," delphine pretty much growled out through her pearly white teeth. "may I have two cookies of the day?" although she spoke politely, the tone in her voice and glare of her brown and green eyes showed that she wasn't as chippy as her words implied. fina wasn't a patient girl, at least not when it came to her food. then again no teenage liked anything getting in between them and their food.

[lokean]

A r w e n . . . male // estrella // marcelette. katherine. elysia. fleuretta. // fiddler
Arwen bit his lip. He wanted to apologize for being so drawn in - for being like that at all, really, for hating talking about himself and being so drawn in. Instead, he took a step away from Marcelette. The witch stayed close enough to his coven sister that they were almost touching - she was still his sister of sorts, after all, and there was always an underlying level of comfort - but put a small distance there, just to express his discomfort with more that a word. He knew it would fade off, but that was the gist of his feeling, for now.

When Marcelette brought up snack choice, Arwen perked up. “I am thinking it is maybe bad thought, but black coffee are sounding great.” Coffee did sound great, and maybe a slice of banana bread if they had any. Aside from that, though, there wasn’t much Arwen wanted; just caffeine and something to feel like he was even going to stand a chance at sleeping tonight. After his mom asked how his college applications were going. After he lied through his teeth like usual. Arwen stepped back towards Marcel. Would his mother head down the war path when she realized he wasn’t doing what she thought he was? Chasing his own ambitions in secrecy to get around being so subdued by her wrath in reality?

As the queue moved up, Arwen stumbled, pulled from his thoughts. He steadied himself and moved up, scanning the menu curiously. Bismarck? Did he know what that was? Something in him told him that he did, he just didn’t remember it right then. He could have sworn just a minute ago that that he was sure! He just knew it was some kind of pastry, now that he thought about it. That would be why he wasn’t familiar with it. The only pastries he ever ate were danishes, and even then, he ate them rarely. An onion bagel sounded a bit nasty - what did that mean? A bagel made of onion? A bagel with onion on it?