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February 15, 2038

Monday evening, 7:00 PM. Although mostly hidden, the moon periodically peaks from behind the onslaught of clouds. Chill winds creep across the city, which keeps the temperature fairly low. Temps: 3C/37F lows and 8C/46F highs.
credits
skin credit goes to miss texas, custom structure scripts go to black, and the toggle cbox goes to subdevo. credit for mini profile goes to bee.

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 Tavern Ferit, Building
Annabel Pryce
 Posted: Feb 11 2018, 01:39 PM
Quote
alignment
Lawful Good
playable race
classification
Magical Human
Druid
power level
magical status
Three
Lower Level
cookie tickets
witch wars
7 cookies
0 points
A Host of Rebel Angels


As the drink flows down her throat, Anna resists the urge to wince. It's sweet and not much to her liking, she's definitely a beer and whiskey kind of girl. After a moment the drink hits her stomach and warmth spreads out as she's setting her glass back down, she shoots a look over to Sebastian but he's busy with his back turned to her. Her tongue numbs over as Kohl says that he isn't fighting, it brings a slight scowl to her face.

"You're always fighting. Everyone, every day. Sorry, but it's like almost every time you go out in public that you want to pick a fight or hurt someone's feelings..." she says, the candor pouring out of her, but she doesn't really think anything of it. Sure, it seems a little odd that a few moments ago she was trying to implement some sort of self-control and make nice with him, but her answer seems reasonable enough to her.

She's not entirely sure if Kohl even paid attention to her. Rude. He instead seems preoccupied by the arrival of a red-haired guy, a few years younger than Anna and Kohl. Her eyes cut from the newcomer to Kohl as the ginger babbles; they clearly know one another. Anna is just about to say hello when Kohl lashes out. However as soon as he does, he gives a small yelp of pain and begins to peer down his shirt as if a cigarette cherry fell down inside it.

"See? This is what I'm talking about. I think you're a pathological Asshat."

She's torn between commenting further, critiquing Sebastian's cocktail to him, and introducing herself to Warren, who she feels deserves an explanation (or more likely an excuse) for his cousin's behavior.
PM
^
Sebastian Luna
 Posted: Feb 16 2018, 02:03 AM
Quote
alignment
Neutral Evil
playable race
classification
Magical Human
Medium
power level
magical status
Five
Lower Level
cookie tickets
witch wars
1 cookies
0 points
The Fairest Of Them All


A sinister glee dances in Sebastian's eyes as the candle flame grows fierce and tall. (It's working) The medium smiles smugly. It's just another display of his supernatural prowess. God knows why he wasted his time chasing after Ashleigh and Scotty's warlock hunt? His talents were wasted amongst those lower level wannabes. It's about time Sebastian put his skills to good use - like fulfilling every petty little whim that flows through his brain.

(I knew I could do it.)

Seb begins to clean up the mess he's made, wiping the salt and lemon from the counter into a nearby bin. That is, until a sharp burn overcomes his chest. "Fuck." The curse spits from his lips in unison with Kohl's squeal. And while not looking at the druid, the dark medium's mind immediately joins the two together.

(No….)
Sebastian's eyes widen with disbelief. (It can't be.) He reaches a hand up under his shirt and comes in contact with the glossy burn. His fingers trace the outline of the runic scar. And Bastian suddenly feels afraid.

(Why does EVERYTHING happen to me? It's unfair.)

Seb turns to face the druids. A redheaded man has joined them, and appears to be on the receiving end of Kohl's scolding words. Bastian frowns. Did he really just curse himself? Or is this scar some kind of one-off price he's had to pay? He must know.

(Please let it be a one-off.)
Sebastian observes the trio from afar, hoping the consequences of his curse aren't what he fears. He already knows they are. He's grasping at straws. (I've royally fucked up.)
PMEmail
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skin made by miss texas at caution, cc, & shine