#Hallows | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

elfboyeros · 2 months

Text

The Dead Man

Wanna Read More or start from the beginning: Hallows Academy Masterlist @karaboutmyart @jj-pines @lerenee

“Attention: All students are invited to the first séance in the dormitory today, Friday, September 8th, at 16:00. It will be taking place in the storage room off the common area on the third floor (Hall Romanov). Again, all students are invited to join. There will be pizza afterward.”

-Euphrasie Head of Student Residency

Amora and Loki walked up the stairs of the dorms, the American girl’s heeled flats clicking against the steps as she walked up to the third floor.

“Do you think it will be a success?” Loki asked looking over her shoulder.

“Hard to say, it depends on what you believe in,” Amora answered, following behind her, “I like to believe that ghosts are real so something like the séance could work. Do you believe in ghosts, Loki?”

“I do,” Loki replied softly, “Do you?”

“I feel like I have to,” Amora began as they reached the 3rd floor, “I mean with all the fae and creatures that wonder about in our everyday life, I feel like it would only make sense for ghosts to exist.”

“Why do you say that?”

“I mean if something that is so inherently magical and whimsical exists, couldn’t be possible that something that is so inherently supernatural and paranormal exists as well? It would be odd to have one without the other if the two are synonymous of each other,” Amora explained.

“You can Luther would be fit to have conversations for hours with the way you are thinking,” Loki commented as they reached the setting area on the third floor.

“What about me?” Luther perked up, from one of the couches after Loki said his name.

He sat on one of the beige couches watching Lance and Odysseus play a round of Mario Cart on the TV in the living space. The larger brother looked over the couch to look at his sister over the bridge of his glasses, “What have I done now?”

“I wasn’t saying anything bad,” Loki scoffed, “We were just talking about whether ghosts existed or not and Amora was getting very philosophical.”

“Will I mean the existence of ghosts is based on personal opinion, but it wouldn’t be impossible for ghosts to exist given that they are very magical—”

“Brother Bear, as much as I love you, I don’t wanna have this conversation with you, it will make my brain hurt,” Loki remarked, leaning against the couch.

“Who’s winning,” Amora asked softly, as she rounded to be closer to Odysseus and Lance as they sat in the middle of the 3 large couches that were all in a U-shape, facing the flat-screen TV.

“Odis,” Lance muttered.

“Technically it’s someone named Maverick, from Marquis Island,” Odysseus replied, “but right here in this room, it’s me!”

“Odysseus, does everyone call you Odis?” Amora asked.

“No, Only the Holloway siblings call me Odis.” He answered, “I don’t even know why they do.”

“Odysseus Odis,” Luther commented, moving his hands as if to put the two names into columns. “Sound similar.”

“SWEET WE’RE PLAYING MARIO CART!” A boyish voice exclaimed before an olive-skinned blonde male vaulted over one of the couches and landed beside Odysseus giving him a little nudge, “You should have told me, dude, so I could take you down a peg!”

“Solomon you were studying,” Odysseus chuckled.

“Honestly, Mario Cart is more important than studying for my Forensic Science class,” Solomon scoffed before looking order at Amora, “Hi, I’m Solomon.”

“Amora,” she replied, sitting down on one of the couches while Loki sat on the arm next to her. She remembers Loki vaguely talking about Solomon. Her British roommate said he was friendly, but he can be a bit of a jerk when his best friend is around.

Euphrasie soon arrived with pizzas and all the items she would need for a séance, after Calliope joined the group around the TV, sitting quietly and keeping to herself. Euphrasie waited a few moments for a few more students to arrive like Iphigenie, before beginning.

“Thank you for coming, for the first-ever séance at Hallows Academy,” Euphrasie began, “we are going to take this box of séance items to the storage room then we are going to try and talk with ghost.”

“Euphrasie, I love you, but I only came to get some pizza before I went to work,” Iphigenie remarked, stealing a slice of pizza from one of the boxes.

“That’s fine don’t work too hard,” Euphrasie replied, before grabbing her box and heading to the storage room with her peers following her.

“Isn’t it a little late for that?” Luther asked as she walked by.

“One of the closers got sick during their shift and I was asked to help close,” Iphigenie answered.

“Want me to come so you don’t have to do all the walking alone?” Luther inquired, as Cassiopeia made it to the 3rd floor while a chocolatey red-haired dude had his arm around her shoulder.

“No, it’s alright,” she replied, “Thanks for the offer though.”

The British boy nodded, as she turned to walk away, “Text or call me if you need any rescuing,” he added.

“Thanks, Luther,” Iphigenie replied before letting out a little “Excuse me.” While passing Cassiopeia and the boy she was on the arm of.

“Get rejected, Luther?” The boy laughed.

“Roux,” Luther sighed, clenching his fist while having to urge to punch Roux in his pretty football player's face, “Screw off,” he muttered before being the bigger man and walking away.

“Hey, Roux!” Solomon interjected, “You going to join us in the séance?”

“That sounds stupid,” Roux scoffed.

“I thought it sounded like fun,” Solomon muttered a frown forming on his face.

“Dude, I don’t care what you do, but it sounds so stupid, especially since ghosts aren’t really,” Roux retorted.

“Stick around and maybe you will change your mind!” Euphrasie exclaimed, poking her head out of the storage room as Luther entered.

Roux looked to Cassiopeia who had only stood beside him in silence while her boyfriend had his little exchanges, “What do you wanna do?”

Cassiopeia shrugged, “What would it hurt, ghosts aren’t real, right.”

“You guys coming or not!” Euphrasie shouted.

“Yes, Euphrasie, Jesus!” Roux huffed, entering the storage room with Cassiopeia.

“Who is that again?” Amora asked Loki quietly, while Euphrasie began setting up the séance.

“Roux,” the British teen muttered in a disgusted tone, “If you do anything I advise, let it be staying away from him.”

“He can be nice,” Calliope whispered, from her place beside Amora, “sometimes.”

“Calliope, he’s only nice to you because you are Cassiopeia's sister,” Loki mumbled.

Amora looked over at Cassiopeia, ever since their first meeting anytime Amora as seen the girl always in red, the cheerleader has held a resting bitch face, but now, when she is cuddled up to Roux, she looks so small against his large frame and so miserable. Yet, every time Roux’s at her, he looks at her with a loving gaze, and she only smiles one of those smiles that is clearly fake, although Roux seems to not notice.

“She’s unhappy,” Amora commented to herself, out loud.

“What?” Loki asked as Euphrasie finished setting up the séance, with the Ouija board in the middle of the group of students, surrounded by candles.

“It’s nothing,” Amora replied.

Euphrasie cleared her throat before beginning to speak, “Oh spirits of Hallows Academy, we all come to speak to you today within this storage room. If you wish to speak with us, give us a sign.”

There is a large moment of silence, teenagers all looking at each other, as if nothing happened, “You could like… knock something down… maybe blow out one of the candles,” Euphrasie muttered.

After Euphrasie spoke something fell in the corner of the storage room making almost everyone jump, then look at all the séance items in the middle of the circle they formed.

“C-could you blow out the tallest candle?” The dorm resident asked.

The tallest candle’s flame is then extinguished, making the students gasp. The sounds of whispers filled the room, voices layered over each other talking all at once in shushed tones around the teenagers, yet it seemed like Amora was the only one who could hear all the noise.

The overlaying vibrations made her head hurt, “Amora?” Calliope asked, seeing the American girl's discomfort as everyone else was focused on the ghostly happenings in the center of the circle.

Loki looked over at her roommate seeing her with her head in her hands and her eyes shut tight, “Lovely?”

The overlapping voices continued to get louder as Amora’s head continued to throb in pain. She then looked up for whatever reason seeing the blurry silhouette of some individual standing in front of her.

The silhouette then approached Amora, standing right in front of her, along with the overlapping voice which continued to get louder and louder accompanied by a buzzing sound.

“Do you all not hear the buzzing?” Amora mumbled, unable to properly focus on anything.

“Amora? What’s wrong?” Loki asked concerned.

She can’t hear Loki, however, as the voice around her and the buzzing is so loud Amora felt as if her whole body was vibrating. With squinted eyes Amora watched the blurry silhouette reach out to her with one of their fingers, pressing the tip of their extremity into the center of her forehead.

The American teenager is then on the floor, unconscious.

“Amora!” Calliope gasped, while Loki immediately fell to her knees, to help her roommate.

Everyone’s attention is on Amora and by proxy Loki, “What happened?” Euphrasie gasped.

“I-I don’t know,” Loki stammered out, pulling Amora into her arms, “She just collapsed!”

“It’s the ghost!” a random student shrieked.

“Dude, shut the hell up,” Solomon scoffed, “Is she alright?”

Luther made his way over to his sister, taking Amora from Loki’s arms and picking her up and off the floor.

“Do you know if she ate anything today?” Odysseus asked.

“Maybe she’s dehydrated,” Lance added.

“I’ll call the Nurse’s office and tell them you’re coming,” Euphrasie remarked pulling out their phone.

Loki and Luther left the storage room, heading to the Nurse’s Office in the main building, where Amora stayed well into the night. While in between the land of being awake and in slumber, it feels like she is being watched. Once she was out of the land of sleep, she opened her eyes, face with a man.

With dark burgundy-brown hair, dusty pink skin, and heterochromatic eyes staring down at the blonde girl, left eye purple right eye pink. He had a tea-green glow to his whole body as he floated above her as she lay in bed.

Amora looked at him with wide eyes before he gasped, “You can see me!” The man remarked.

Her eyes got even wider, as the floating man above her put his hand up, “Please don’t start screaming!”

She obviously started screaming, which woke up Loki who was sleeping in a chair, “Amora! What’s the matter!” Loki exclaimed, coming to her side.

“DO YOU NOT SEE THE MAN FLOATING IN THE AIR!”

Loki paused and blinked, looking in the direction that Amora was pointing in as she screamed, “Lovely, it’s a dream, breathe.”

Amora stopped screaming, huffing out breaths and staring down the name as she snickered in the corner, “Go back to sleep, yeah, you’ll be better in the morning,” Loki remarked, affectionately rubbing up and down the blonde’s arms.

All she did was nod, sinking back into the bed she was in, as Loki took her place in the chair next to her, she could feel eyes on her. Not Loki’s, no she’s kind enough not to intentionally stare. No, it’s the eyes of that man, covered in a green mist, staring at her from the corner of the room.

And he continues to linger the next day, from the moment Amora woke, to being let out of the nurse’s office, to getting back to the dorm, he’s there with his 5’10 stature to the way he floats behind Amora at a good distance. He is just there, and the fact that it seems that she is the only one who can see him, Amora can only believe she is going insane, and she’s only been at Hallows Academy for a week.

“Gah,” Loki sighed, looking at her phone, “Lance wants me to come to his dorm.”

“Go, I’ll be fine,” Amora muttered while sitting in her bed.

Loki stood up from her bed, fidgeting a bit, “If you need anything text me okay.”

Amora nodded, before watching her leave their room hesitantly. Once alone, Amora pulled out her laptop and typed into the search bar: seeing people that other people can’t see.

Multiple articles, and definitions of hallucinations along with what could cause them waterfalled on her internet browser, “Chickadee, this isn’t a hallucination,” the man stated, “Put in Cobalt Thornton.”

“How do you spell all that?” She asked, before shaking her head.

“C-O-B-A-L-T T-H-O-R-N-T-O-N.”

When typing the name into the search bar, the top result was an obituary and an article from 15 years ago.

Tragedy Has Befallen Solostica: Hallows Teacher Found Dead

Solostica News Channel One Editor: Suzette Levi Writer: Nicolette Heri-Louis

Found deceased in his small home, on March 23rd, in the early morning, Cobalt Thornton, a Pre-Calculus teacher at Hallows Academy and a Solostian born and raised. Known as Mr. Thornton by all his students and Mister Blue by close friends and family. Respected for his passion for the field of mathematics, and tolerated for his stubbornness, it is shocking to find out that a well-respected man, who seemingly has no enemies, had been murdered.

Thornton’s death is undetermined as of this report. This case is a top priority according to law enforcement, Although Thornton’s wife, Primrose, stated at the funeral:

“The only thing that the sergeants have told me was that he couldn’t be cremated. Cobalt wanted to be cremated, that was his only wish! They won’t update me on his case, I don’t know how he died, but it must be made sure that he can’t be cremated, they're a joke!”

Cobalt Thornton is survived by his wife Primrose Marshal-Thornton and his daughter, He was buried in Solostica Grand Church, yesterday, March 26th.

If you have any information about the death of Cobalt Thornton, contact Solostica Detective Matias Prescott at 020 9734 2648 or ask for him at the Solostica Supervise Office.

Below the article is a picture, of the same man that was now haunting her, yet less green, “So what? You’re a ghost?” Amora scoffed, looking over her shoulder at the ghostly man floating next to her.

“You honestly believe I am a figment?!”

“I am center I don’t believe you are actually a ghost, that you are actually haunting me!” Amora fought back.

Cobalt sighed, moving to the door, “There are plenty of old yearbooks around this campus, so why not go find one from before I died,” Cobalt suggested motioning to the door.

Amora sighed, staring at the article open on her laptop screen and then at the back at the ghostly man at her door, “Your little friend in orange might be able to help you,” Cobalt commented.

The American girl sighed, getting out her bed and heading out to find Euphrasie. Remembering that their room was on the 3rd floor, she made her way to Hall Romanov, knocking lightly on Euphrasie’s door where she could hear whispering before the door opened.

“Oh hey, Amora, how are you feeling?” Eurphrasie asked.

“I’m okay… I guess,” Amora replied, “I actually wanted to know if there were any old yearbooks I could look at.”

“How old we talking?”

“15 years or older,” Amora answered.

“Uh… Oh yeah! There are a few in the entertainment center from around that time… I think,” Euphrasie replied, “Come on I’ll help you look.”

“Thanks.”

The two seniors walked to the setting area in the 3rd hall, devoid of people now in time in the day.

“Why do you want to look at old yearbooks?” Euphrasie asked, opening the entertainment system shelving units.

“Something for my history class,” Amora answered, as the dorm resident pulled out a few yearbooks.

“Nice save, chickadee,” Cobalt noted, from his ethereal place around her.

“Thanks,” Amora muttered after Euphrasie handed her the small stack of yearbooks.

“If you need to borrow some just send me pics of the news you take so I know where they’re at,” Euphrasie stated.

“Got it.”

“Have fun,” Euphrasie chirped before heading back to her dorm room.

The chipper student had handed Amora some older yearbooks, that didn’t have Cobalt in them, as the pages were in black and white and from over 50 years ago. The last one she looked at was one from exactly 15 years ago, and thankfully in color flipping to the staff page and looking in the T’s their Cobalt sits, looking like the ghostly man that is sitting next to her, albeit less green. Even after finding him in the staff pages, Amora continues to flip through the yearbook, discovering a memorial page in the back of the yearbook dedicated to Cobalt.

“You’re actually dead,” Amora gasped.

Cobalt chuckled, with his legs crossed as he sat on the sofa across from her, his head tilted as his cheek rested against his fist, “I have no reason to lie about my mortality.”

Amora huffed, taking the yearbook she had in her lap with her back to her dorm room after putting the others away. She spent the next few hours at her desk, searching the web for answers about ghostly hauntings while making small talk with Cobalt.

“Okay! It says here that ghosts haunt those on the moral plain to so to curve boredom, and they are still on the moral plain because something is preventing them from ascending to the afterlife,” Amora explained.

“Ah, I have unfinished business,” Cobalt remarked, “…Yet I don’t remember what I would have left unfinished besides my entire life!”

“Mhm… do you remember how you died?” Amora inquired.

Cobalt thought for a moment standing in the middle of Amora’s dorm room, “I… don’t remember…”

“Someone says that if you help a ghost figure out how they died or tell them how they died this may help them ascend,” Amora read aloud.

“That sounds like a plan to get me out of your hair and free of this school, but how do we do that?” Cobalt pondered.

“Solomon,” Amora mumbled.

“Solomon?”

“He’s a classmate, he said yesterday he was studying Forensic Science.”

Amora got up from her desk and headed out of her dorm room if she could correctly remember Odysseus and Solomon were roommates, if she just went back upstairs hopefully, he would be there.

“Hi! Anore!”

Maybe she didn’t have to go back upstairs, as when she got to the stairwell, she heard Solomon’s voice yell something that sounded like her name behind her. When she turned around Solomon began to approach her, dressed in a nice dark suit.

“My name is Amora, but hi,” she said.”

“Ha… My bad, I know it was something like that, but I wanted to know if you were okay, ya’ know after yesterday.”

She looked at him confused which made him frown, from what Loki said and the fact that she didn’t know him why is so concerned? “Hey, don’t look at me like that!” He whined, “You went down yesterday like out of nowhere!”

“We barely know each other.”

“I can still be concerned! That’s a normal human emotion!” Solomon retorted.

“Well thank you, but I’m fine,” Amora articulated.

“Sweet!”

Solomon was about to ascend the stairs before Amora stopped, “I need to ask you something.”

“Okay, shoot!”

“How could I find out someone died?” She asked.

“Well, if it's someone recent the funeral home would have the records, my uncle owns the funeral on the island, I can look up whoever you need next time he needs my help,” Solomon answered.

“What if it’s someone older?”

“Mhm… the coroner's office might… can I ask why?” Solomon expressed.

Amora thought for a second, “It’s for one of my classes, I need to do a report on someone who died on the island, and the person I can’t find a cause of death online. I was wondering if I could find it from somewhere in town.”

“If it's someone from a long time ago, it should be recorded at the coroner’s office because that guy doesn’t get rid of anything, but he’s on vacation until next month… sorry, you may just have to say the death was undeterred in your paper.”

“Damn, okay thanks anyway Solomon,” Amora sighed.

“Glad I could help.”

Amora mopped back to her dorm, defeated, flopping onto her bed, unaware that Loki was in her own bed, “Overexert yourself?” she asked.

“No,” the American girl groaned.

“What’s wrong?”

“There is this thing I need, and the place I need to get it is going to be closed for the next month,” the blonde griped into her pillow.

Loki chuckled, “You could steal it… just break in and steal it,” she joked.

Amora lifted her head out of her pillow, looking over at Loki seeing her sit in her bed, her headphones around her neck as she read Shiley Jackson’s We Have Always Lived in the Castle.

Amora giggled at the thought. Her in her coquette fashions breaking into the coroner’s office just to get the records on the weird-ass ghost that keeps floating around her. She had only been at Hallows Academy for a week, and she’d not only been bullied and housed with Loki but been touched by a spirit and now talking to a ghost.

Although it’s not a bad idea… breaking into the coroner’s office.

“Chickadee don’t even think about it,” Cobalt muttered, watching Amora look up the address for the coroner’s office while Loki was in the bathroom.

“Do you want to ascend or not?”

“It’s a nice thought but we can wait a month and just ask for my records.”

“We? Ha! There is no we can wait!” Amora exclaimed, before turning to look and point at him, “You can wait because you've been dead for the past 15 years, I thought I was hallucinating this morning, I would much rather have you gone sooner rather than later.”

Cobalt hummed, “Will, I’m tied to this campus, so if you are going to get into serious trouble, I can’t help you.”

“That’s fine,” Amora mumbled.

The plan: wake up early on Sunday morning, go to the train station and get on the first train which would be mostly empty, enjoy not having Cobalt waking you, go to the coroner’s office, find the back window (which would thankfully be to the records room) thanks to images online, and take a brick and throw it through the window praying that the place doesn’t have a security system.

One had made it to the window and had a brick ready in hand the next morning, she discovered the window was open slightly. With the brick now in the grass, Amora pushed open the window more so she could squeeze her body in.

Once in the small records room, she stood still and waited before she exhaled. Thankful that no security alarms were going off. “His last name is Thornton,” she muttered to herself, attempting to find the filing cabinet marked for the T’s.

Once she found the cabinet, she searched for what felt like hours for the last name Thornton, her eyes beginning to hurt from the light coming from her phone and having to look at such a tiny print.

Thornton C.

“FINALLY!” Amora exclaimed, before covering her mouth, pulling the file out of the cabinet, and shutting the drawer quietly.

She only wanted to take pictures and then put the file back and attempted to as she sat the file down and opened it, but before she could even snap one picture it sounded like footsteps were approaching the records room.

Not wanting to take her chances Amora closed the file and made a B-line for the window she came in, leaving it the way she found it before dashing toward the train station and heading back to campus.

Returning to her dorm room, Cobalt was the only present, “Glad to see you aren’t arrested,” he commented.

“Thanks for the concern,” Amora replied, “I got your file!”

She sat next to him on her bed flipping open his file, seeing a simple report listing information she already knew along with this suspect time of death, yet the one thing she searching for was the cause.

Cause of Death: Undetermined

“WHAT!” The two of them shouted.

Amora’s eyes continued to scan the document seeing a note at the bottom.

It is very possible that Thornton died of a heart attack, yet to do not feel confident in stating that as fact given his age and health history. So, his death will continue to be labeled as undetermined and his death will be labeled as murder.

Cobalt sighed as Amora groaned, “I’m sorry,” she mumbled before lying on her bed and facing the wall.

She pretty much stayed like that until the following day, mostly because she had class, giving a basic “I’m fine,” response whenever anyone, mostly Loki, asked if she was right.

Cobalt was ever-present following her through her classes, he doesn’t bother her, in terms of speaking or standing/floating near her, yet her knowing he’s around is a huge distraction for her.

When she entered her Trigonometry class she took a seat in the back next to Iphigenie greeting her with a small “hi,” before laying her head down on the table.

“I see you are very smart, I’m impressed,” Cobalt praised as the bell rang.

Amora groaned softly in response as her teacher began by greeting the class before getting started.

“…Lily…”

Cobalt's voice sounded much softer than Amora had heard in the past 2 days, he sounded so broken, so sad. Amora raised, looking at Cobalt and seeing him staring at her Trigonometry, before realizing that the two of them looked similar, with the color of their hair and eyes being identical.

If Amora was closer, she could probably tell that they had similar features, yet she is more focused on the fact that Cobalt got closer to her standing in front of her as she taught.

“My sweet little girl… you’re all grown up…And you are a mathematician!” Cobalt laughed, “My baby, I had no idea… Oh, Primrose must be so proud of you!”

He placed himself behind her desk, seeing all the nicknacks that littered her desk including pictures of herself and her mother, a woman with a darker complexion with graying violet hair, and chocolate eyes.

“Rosey… I’m sorry I left. I didn’t mean to… God, my girls, my beautiful girls. I hope you know I love you both so much, God, why did things happen like this? I wish I was actually here, with you, Bethy,” Cobalt lamented.

“Amora,” Iphigenie whispered nudging her shoulder making the American girl look over at her, “Are you okay?”

“Uh?” Amora asked quietly.

“Amora, are you crying?” Iphigenie questioned.

Amora touched her cheek, damp and covered in her tears, no doubt caused by the dead man in front of her lamenting to his daughter as if no one could hear him.

“M-my,” she stuttered out with a frog in her throat, “My eyes are just watering bad.”

Iphigenie is smart enough to know that the girl next to her is lying, but if Amora wants to lie, why not let her?

It’s going to be a living hell if this continues… This is linked to Cobalt. It’s not only strange just having him around, but Amora can’t just leave, she was coming around, slowly coming to like being a Hallows Academy, and now she’s a physic! This is like a waking nightmare, and it is going to continue to extensive agony if Amora continues to force Cobalt to watch his daughter teach every time she’s got Trigonometry while he stands in his purgatory.

She’s got to help ascend… it is the right thing to do.

What could go wrong? She just has to figure out how he died, right?

5 notes · View notes

roughridingrednecks · 10 months

Text

Hallows

#hallows #LA #flexing #grin #redneck #tats #cap #goatee

18 notes · View notes

kvetch19 · 6 months

Text

#halloween #nostalgia #all #hallows #eve #2006

8 notes · View notes

scuddle-bubble101 · 1 year

Text

Might as show the man whose been "haunting" me recently. I love he~

Tired af, dry humor ghost bug~

#serif doodling #hallows #ghost bugman #the mainverse #and somewhere else??

27 notes · View notes

fuckin-flip-wizard · 1 year

Text

Speculative Biology doodles for why I draw Elves the way I do feat. some TAZ characters (and my own DnD pc because I. Forgot I draw Kuo as a Fey Eladrin whoops I'm sorry Kuo). Also this is hinged on the whole "evolved to live in the woods" so some of these might not apply to these characters specifically just why I draw Elves in general like this

Edit: forgot to write exactly why I have the hands in the page lol, it's cuz Elf Kits have paw pads for when they're still crawling and need more protection for their hands, and grow out of them as they get older and learn to walk (though it takes some time and can be seen slightly even into some Elves teens)

Possibly part 1/? (I have many more thoughts lol. Though I might focus more on the other Eladrin from 2e and 3.5e because they're my favorites so it wouldn't be TAZ related lmao)

49 notes · View notes

is-the-skeleton-accurate · 1 month

Text

Is the skeleton anatomically accurate?

🦴💀🦴💀🦴💀🦴💀🦴💀🦴💀🦴💀🦴

Hello! I'm a forensic anthropology student trying to fill another little ecological niche on this website

This blog was inspired by a project I did last semester, and I thought it'd be a fun way to practice and help others better understand skeletal anatomy- be it human or not

SFM photo credit

[additional information will be added as needed]

Rules are don't be a bonehead (no racism, -phobia, zionism... just general DNI applies)

Feel free to send asks and correct me if I'm ever off the mark! I am also learning B:^)

*rating system: good, eh, bad, splinted (aka really awful- was originally boned but that one gets the post hidden lol)

Tag Guide

💀boneyard beasties- submissions/asks

🦴good glabella (gg)- video games

💀skelevised- tv/movies

🦴gouache ghouls- art (be kind!)

💀hallows- this is specifically for the funny skeletons you see as decor

🦴corrections- addendums to previous posts

*note: this rating is in terms of relative accuracy and not an assessment of artistic ability and/or my personal opinion on the source material

4 notes · View notes

casasupernovas · 11 months

Text

i just realised why albus dumbledore was so obsessed with the potters - james in particular.

one of the biggest questions that is often asked is why them? people say that dumbledore had them as favourites why? what about literally any other gryffindor kid?

and it's because james had the invisibility cloak. he's a damn peverell. albus dumbledore was obsessed with the hallows. so he kept him close and lily by default.

#weirdo old man #albus dumbledore #harry potter #hallows #deathly hallows

9 notes · View notes

somelazyassartist · 2 months

Text

Whehehee I might clean up n' color this and add it as a print in my shop eventually because I really like how this turned out,,, anyways just been rotating Hallows in my mind to "Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy" for the past few hours and had to draw something for it :]

Click for better quality | Reblogs appreciated! :] | my shop

22 notes · View notes

mothpawbs · 3 months

Text

trans people and harnesses are two of humanity's greatest gifts 🙃

#digital art #mag art #furry #anthro #sparkledog #canine #coydog #rave #trans #bright colors tw #alcohol tw #hallows

15 notes · View notes

thenewwei · 3 months

Text

THE LIGHT SIDE OF THE MOON: SCARLETT TAYLOR'S VEIL

All Photo Credits to Helen Elizondo. Essay by Tejas Desai.

The New Wei is proud to introduce a feature series on bold, dynamic artists who push the boundaries of what's possible and deliver a unique life vision.

Our first ever feature is musician Scarlett Taylor. The 23 year old phenom (it's her birthday today, btw!) is a groundbreaking auteur who today 2/1/24 released her second album HALLOWS, a live remastered version of her spectacular debut demo album Veil. She is also playing a show tonight at the renowned NYC music venue Pianos at 7pm:

The following essay examines her music, motivations, and milieu, from her beginnings in quiet but dynamic Lancaster, Pennsylvania to her breakout releases over the past year, when she has come into her own in the greatest city on Earth. You won't find musical biography or criticism this in-depth in any publication outside of possibly Rolling Stone.

So keep it right here on The New Wei, people!

While Olivia Rodrigo croons about relationship revenge and Billie Eilish belts movie soundtracks, another young singer is creating a different path altogether. Her name is Scarlett Taylor, she’s about to turn 23 and she is churning out a more thematically complex oeuvre than her contemporaries.

The 13 songs of her debut demo album Veil are rich in sound and meaning, from the abstract “Love Where the Soul’s At,” dedicated to the decapitated descriptions of Aphrodite in Greek art, to “The Night Beast,” where Taylor evokes “howling at the moon,” to the electronic-heavy “Déjà vu” and the doppelganger-themed “Shadow Talking.” The themes include her own concepts like the veil, silhouette and perfect timing, along with timeless ones like loneliness, fate and loss.

These tracks were released biweekly from her 22nd birthday on February 1, 2023, to the album’s official release date on August 1, 2023. 8 remastered versions will be available on her 23rd birthday, February 1st, 2024, on a live album called HALLOWS.

Before starting this steady output, Ms. Taylor was not performing or creating music regularly—previously she had only released one song called “Clementine,” which she has since disowned and taken off Spotify, claiming it “was not her own” because someone else produced it.

By contrast, Ms. Taylor has controlled every aspect of Veil’s creation and marketing. She makes her own merch, which includes sewing shirts, drawing posters, and creating pins. She performs regularly and creates art daily. This output, apparently, has been personal and artistic therapy for Ms. Taylor, who described the process of creating and releasing as “transformative like the cycles of the moon.” In fact, the biweekly releases are timed to coincide with the full moon and new moon, important symbols for her complex life philosophy.

I first officially met Scarlett Taylor at The Purgatory in Bushwick, Brooklyn, where she was scheduled to open for another up-and-coming singer, Taylor Mecca. Upon arriving, I spotted Ms. Taylor, a tall blonde wearing a trench coat with a guitar strung around her shoulder. I introduced myself. She was so excited I had come to see her play that she gifted me a button-down t-shirt she had sewn from scratch that exemplified the themes of her album: the veil and the silhouette.

On the other side of a flower pattern, the t-shirt stated: “Slipping into the Silhouette of this Veil.” According to Ms. Taylor, the veil represents the parts of us that others cannot see or that we hide, whereas the silhouette symbolizes those that are inevitably public. It seems that in her construction the truth behind the complexity of any human is a balance between those two elements, and perhaps her music tries to capture the space between that divide. Yet the meaning of her work goes well beyond this dichotomy because she describes her songs as “Witch Music,” which is also a title of one of the tracks.

To understand Ms. Taylor’s thinking and aesthetic intent more fully, it might make sense to delve into her background. Her father is Chad Taylor, long-time guitarist of the alternative rock band Live, which released 9 albums over 25 years and experienced some commercial success in the 1990s. Her mother is a yoga teacher. She was born and grew up in Lancaster, Pennsylvania, a distinct mixture of extremely progressive and conservative lifestyles. Ms. Taylor says she was raised in a loving home, where her parents cultivated both her musical and spiritual development. She attended private schools, including Montessori. She has two sisters, both of whom are artists of various types, though neither are musicians.

From the beginning, her parents had an enormous influence on her life path. When her father was home from tours, music would fill the house, and like her mother, she was trained in yoga, becoming a teacher herself. When it was time to consider colleges, she decided to apply to only one school, the Clive Davis School of Music at NYU, which she has attended for the past three years and from which she graduated early in December 2023. If she had not gained acceptance, she says she would have continued to live at her parents’ home in Lancaster, teaching yoga, perhaps working a day job, and creating her music.

In Lancaster, witches, mediums, and doulas filled her social life, and she says that she is fortunate to have been surrounded by so many spiritual women, who taught her to read tarot cards, to release and manifest, to understand the meaning behind the intersection of stars and moons. This is why she celebrates witches, who she says are light workers who inform people how to live a more joyful and loving life through rituals and serving magical elements.

It seems Ms. Taylor’s music is a means of performing this work within herself. Her life has changed immeasurably for the better since she started releasing her music. She is far more spiritually and emotionally positive, and it has unfurled an enormous social life in New York City for her that revolves around music and art.

I categorized my first meeting with Ms. Taylor as “official” because I had encountered her once before. Earlier that summer, I had attended a concert at a converted garage in Bushwick called The Shop. I was there to see another rising star, model-cum-rocker Bec Lauder, who had described it on Instagram as a “secret little show.” I needed to click on a link, enter a password (that I gleaned from another spotlighted band’s post) and pay $8 via Venmo or cash at the door. Being old school and middle-aged, I think I was the only one to pay cash, and Ale, one of the organizers who lived upstairs, needed to go to his apartment to get change for me.

I had come half an hour late, fashionably, but I still needed to wait another hour to see the first band play. During that time, I drank a Bud, included in the price, and met some of The Wedding Planners, the group that organized the event. Jacob Geoffrey and Ale, of the band Ale’s Love Letters, are both musicians themselves, while Maddie, one of several non-musicians, is a philosophy PhD. student, part-time painter, and editor of A Zine.

Several copies of this publication were stacked up in the corner of the garage, and their content, a mixture of poetry, grotesque drawings, and trauma-based prose, seemed to correspond to the shadow work of Ms. Taylor’s musical imaginings. She was there as well—we exchanged a smile—but I never actually met her that night.

The space was filled with art. It was one of a series of monthly concerts that focused on different themes. That evening it was “Magic Night”—participants were urged by email to “dress magically” and there was a magician on-site doing tricks—whereas other themes included “Beach Night,” “Art Night,” and “Alien Night.”

The crowd consisted of young 20 somethings, mostly seniors in college or recent graduates. The initial attendees seemed to know each other, and I was treated with a mixture of fear and wonder.

According to Ms. Taylor, the Wedding Planners formed from a text thread created by Mr. Geoffrey, a recent NYU grad himself. There’s no individual photography allowed at Wedding Planner events (there usually is a designated photographer, however), meaning it’s one of the rare contemporary concerts where a million iPhones aren’t held up to a performer’s face. Ms. Taylor says this radiates a different energy, and it’s meant to form a safe space with no judgment for performers and participants alike.

Concerts are essentially ceremonies, according to Ms. Taylor, and one of the most intriguing aspects of the Wedding Planners concerts is that they perform mock weddings during the night. After their set, the first act throws a bouquet into the crowd. Whoever catches it must propose to someone by the end of the night—it could be a stranger, their friend, a crush, whoever. One of the Wedding Planners officiates, and sometimes this is Ms. Taylor. Otherwise, the night has a few acts, and a DJ takes care of the rest.

Among this friend’s group are an endless number of young musicians, some of whom are Wedding Planners, others not. A vastly truncated list includes Jacob, Ale and Bec, Stevie Bill and Juliet Ivy, Ty Lorenzo, Khaliko and Vanessa Camacho. But for me, Ms. Taylor’s music stands out as worth exploring in depth.

Throughout Veil, there’s a tension between opposing forces—the veil and silhouette, nature and man, love and sex, spirit and body, beast and machine. The narrator struggles within herself to understand the tensions between these elements, and ultimately, concludes that a greater force might be at work in the orientations of her life.

The first quarter of Veil focuses on the individual’s relationship with the cosmos in a mechanized world, beginning with its title track, which will be renamed “Perfect Timing” on the live HALLOWS album. Immediately the singer slips into the silhouette of this veil, and the progression of the song suggests confusion and transformation. In “Internet,” or “The Machine” on HALLOWS, the singer laments a mechanized world where “machines talk to robots” and regrets “growing up online.” “Illusion” finds the narrator defiant that she “won’t quit howling at the moon,” or give up trying to understand the universe despite our man-made reality.

Then we are thrust into a dream and dance sequence of rock rhythms and electronic beats. “New Year’s Day,” a cryptic diatribe, flows into “Déjà vu,” where a dreamy, naive girl meets her lover in the cosmos, and concludes with a desperate wish for reciprocation. “Witch Music,” defining the album’s core vision, serves as its pivot, interrupting its pensiveness with a clubby dance anthem.

The third quarter of Veil explores decadent nights, stormy relationships and insecure feelings. “Tooth Decay” evokes the image of a cigarette on an ashtray and transitions to foreplay and one-night stands. “Love’s Where the Soul’s At” explores the tension between body and spirit, as a woman wonders why she’s loved, and whether her lover is placing her on a pedestal for the wrong reasons. “I don’t want to be like a god to you,” she insists. “I wish my body was gone.” But she keeps repeating to herself, “sex means more” than love, perhaps trying to convince herself that it does.

“The Labyrinth is Bored” uses the metaphor of a bullfight to explore the power dynamics of entanglements and break ups. “Deep grief, time thief. I’m forever mad at the matador. Wrap my skin in red, the victory is yours,” she says, apparently giving into her lover’s worship, whereas in “Night Beast,” the narrator feels guilt “in hindsight” for her previous behavior. “I’ve been the night beast, howling at the moon. A lover to you, destined and doomed.”

The album’s final quarter brings us back to the individual’s battle within herself—the tension between her internal confusion and external savvy. “Slide Down the Wall” evokes the familiar feeling of finally having a relationship you’ve always wanted but now feel you don’t deserve: “You told me you’d be by my side. You are what I’ve been looking for. Loving you feels so easy. Loving you feels like changing seasons. Loving a fool. Loving a fool.” Despite having what she wants, the narrator is still dissatisfied, and wonders if a human relationship is enough to satisfy her need for personal evolution.

The next song, “Where the Shadow’s Play,” references a tempered moon and evokes a lover’s gloom about loneliness and loss. “Meet me where the shadow’s play. My darling’s gone in the afternoon. Sun’s pouring into my moon.” Here the narrator confronts her doppelganger and ponders light and darkness as she considers her true path.

In the final song, “Shadow Talking,” the narrator wakes up on a Monday morning, and considers her relationship-free reality. “My life is scary at night,” she laments. “Lately I’ve been running from my shadows.” Her doctor, in lieu of her lover, doesn’t talk to her and only prescribes her pills. “I’ll wait for the dawn, for that’s the only thing to do,” she concludes. Having struggled with nature and man, love and sex, and now alone to battle within herself yet again, she appears to be at an uneasy truce with the fact that things will unfurl as they will—and perhaps according to a greater ordinance.

The moon themes and investigation of individual identity and mental health, along with the essential conflicts of the time in our “civilized” era, call to mind The Pink Floyd album The Dark Side of the Moon, released exactly 50 years earlier in 1973. Ms. Taylor claims this is mostly coincidental (although, she continuously notes, “there are no coincidences”). However, she has listened to it, as it was grandfather’s favorite album and her singing teacher at NYU, Machan Taylor, is the voice on The Dark Side of the Moon. So, she says there is a lot of “collision” with the album. but she hasn’t spent an exorbitant amount of time with it.

But it’s difficult to completely divorce this album from its predecessor. Like The Dark Side of the Moon, Veil is both a studio album and a concept album. It experiments with sound and is creative in the musical and recording process. In Ms. Taylor’s case, she uses stock logic plugins to alter her voice on certain songs. Just as Pink Floyd’s album was mixed at the famed Abbey Road, the tracks on Veil were mixed in the same studio as where Survivor’s Eye of the Tiger was recorded. The Beastie Boys donated this studio to NYU, and band Phoenix provided its EQ.

Veil is more electronic than rock and it has a decidedly female spin. But like The Dark Side of the Moon, its songs blend into each other in a way that add progressive meaning. While Pink Floyd often wrote their songs as they were touring, in Ms. Taylor’s case, the songs were released as she was creating them.

Yet, she insists, her major influences are more modern, including Maggie Rogers, Grammy-nominated alternative singer who graduated from Clive, got her master’s at Harvard, and shares some of Ms. Taylor’s academic interests; Taylor Swift; Phoebe Bridgers; Bjork; and Mitski. Her father, of course, was a musician with Live, and she was able to go to rock concerts at a very young age, a privilege most aspiring musicians don’t have.

Ms. Taylor’s singing in Veil has a raw and caustic quality, so I was a bit surprised when she informed me that she has been trained professionally from a young age. Her crooning as a toddler led her parents to send her to singing lessons. She quickly graduated to musical theater, then opera, and competed in all-girls choir competitions in middle school.

While in high school, she always assumed she would take a more classical route, since he had always sung Soprano 1 opera music at her local college with their Artist-in-Residence who was a Metropolitan Opera singer. Yet this training, she says, prepared her well for rock music, which tends to be verbose, what she called an “Evanescence vibe.”

Why she now exclusively creates rock and electronic music, rather than continuing with opera, has to do with personal vision and control. With opera, she was a hired hand, but with rock, she can create what she wants. She can write her own lyrics and experiment with sounds. While the live album, HALLOWS, was not recorded by her, she did control all aspects of Veil, making it a true auteur work.

Yet, her auteur vision is matched by a strong fatalistic quality. In Ms. Taylor’s life philosophy, there is a sense that the future has already been written, even understood by those who have studied it for centuries, and she even says that we, as individuals, know more about the future than we let on, because we already plan for it on a daily, weekly, monthly, and even yearly basis.

This duality is present in yet another concept of hers, “Perfect Timing.” In fact, she read an essay about this phenomenon at Lincoln Center a week before our first interview at an event called Truth to Power Café. In the essay she describes her sister’s metaphor of the lemon tree. Because it is a perennial plant, it continues to bloom without water or resources, and it can take between 15-70 years to grow a lemon even after planting the seed. You can either wait for the lemon to bloom with joy or fear, because either way the blooming is predestined, but you do not know it’s timing. Therefore, it’s the attitude of the bearer of fruit that is essential—everything else is prewritten without necessary knowledge.

Ms. Taylor takes this joyful and positive attitude wherever she goes: to her volunteer tutoring, to her classes, to her paid internship at a major record label, where she conducts research and writes reviews on which artists the label should sign, and reads tarot cards to anyone who is interested; and at her part-time job, where she studies the intersection of the stars and moons when not folding jeans.

She intends to stay in New York City, bolstered by her large, and ever growing, circle of friends in the burgeoning indie music scene here. Her goal is to create 2 albums per year for the next five years. When I asked her where she sees herself in that time, she was unequivocal that she would be able to make a living from her songs by then. “I believe it, so it will happen,” she proclaimed, despite the reality that she has only earned a few cents on Spotify for her songs so far.

But she is also practical. At this point, she does not plan to pursue advanced education, so she knows she will need a day job in the interim, and she is trying to gain positions at the record label or in the fashion industry, believing that her NYU degree will give her a leg up in this quest. But her music and art will always come first for Ms. Taylor.

About the Author:

Tejas Desai is an Amazon #1 Bestselling, multiple award-winning author of two dynamic book series: The Brotherhood Chronicle international crime trilogy (The Brotherhood, The Run and Hide, The Dance Towards Death) and The Human Tragedy literary series (Good Americans, the unpublished Bad Americans). He is the founder of The New Wei Literary Arts Movement and runs its associated Salons. He is a graduate of Wesleyan University, attended the University of Oxford, holds two Masters degrees from CUNY-Queens College. While he travels frequently, he works as a Supervising Librarian at one of the busiest public libraries in New York City, where he was born, raised, and of course, still lives.

2 notes · View notes

elfboyeros · 3 months

Text

Favorite Subjects

Wanna Read More or start from the beginning: Hallows Academy Masterlist @karaboutmyart @jj-pines @lerenee

⚠️This chapter contains references to sexual assault/rape ⚠️

Within the dorm room of Amora and Loki, an alarm goes off. Loud and obnoxious Amora, groans out of her slumber, rolling closer to the wall as if she trying to get away from the sound, hugging her red octopus plushie closer to her chest. Before she fell back asleep, she could hear movement, damn, Loki gets up early.

After what felt like only a few minutes, Amora gets hit with something hard, “Jesus!” she yelled.

“Sorry, but I’ve been saying your name for the past five minutes,” Loki replied before Amora opened her eyes seeing a pillow in her head as she stood at the side of the bed.

“Lovely or my actual name?”

“Both,” Loki answered, “As your roommate, I am responsible for getting you up and off to your classes.”

“Are you just saying that because I am new?” Amora asked rubbing her eyes.

“Pretty much, it would be really odd if you were late for your classes, and I wasn’t because we are roommates.”

“You’ve got a point,” Amora groaned, finally sitting up as Loki left for the bathroom, “I guess.”

Stretching, before getting ready for the day wearing a light blush button-up top under a spaghetti stripped, dark rouge, ankle-length dress with a pair of Mary Janes.

“Well, don’t you look stunning,” Loki commented exiting the bathroom.

She wore a band t-shirt that had a pair of scissors to it, at some point, to make it shorter than the original, plain high-waisted gray jeans and a pair of worn olive green Chucks.

“You look nice too,” Amora mumbled, blushing and she ran a brush through her hair.

“They always have some kind of muffins or donuts in the commons if you are a person that enjoys eating breakfast,” Loki commented, gathering her things as Amora did the same.

“You say that like you’re not that type of person,” Amora replied.

Loki shrugged, as she opened the door, “My last few roommates didn’t like having breakfast,” she remarked, as Amora left their dorm room, “or maybe they just didn’t like having breakfast with me.”

They had only known each other for a weekend and Loki hadn’t done much talking about herself. No, she was spilling all kinds of information about the school, the classes they shared (which was most of them), the people to stay away from, and the one story about how the dean’s husband went missing, in addition to asking Amora questions about herself. However, the question of why she was here never came up.

Loki can be abrasive, yet she is obviously respectful, Amora had made a nonverbal line in the sand, the day they met, and Loki noticed somehow and respected her.

“Martha Wise,” Amora stated as she walked out of the Osmanthus hall with Loki.

“Huh?”

“You asked me which serial killer I was most interested in last night and my answer is Martha Wise,” Amora answered.

“And why is that?” Loki questioned.

Amora shrugged, “She poisoned 17 of her family members after they forced her to end a relationship, it seems oddly romantic in a way.”

“Mhm, romantic,” Loki muttered.

“Sorry if that’s weird.”

Loki shook her head, “Not at all, I asked you a question and you gave me an answer, a very interesting answer.”

Amora nodded, as they walked into the commons filled with peers all enjoying conversations with one another and muffins.

“LOKI!” The voice of Euphrasie yelled, grabbing Loki’s and Amora’s attention, they stood behind the common area’s kitchenette counter with the other dorm residents, muffins upon muffins in front of them.

The roommates made their way over to the sunny senior, “I saved you a chocolate muffin,” Euphrasie remarked quietly, before presenting Loki with the chocolate chip-filled muffin, “Don’t tell anyone I did that though, because I’ve been telling a bunch of people we were out.”

“Thanks, Euphrasie,” Loki muttered.

“We’ve got a ton of Banana Nut Muffins,” Euphrasie commented, looking at Amora, “Plus, cream cheese stuffed, blueberry, mix berry, strawberry, raspberry white chocolate aka my personal favorite, pumpkin spice, cherry, and maple ones.”

Amora thought for a moment before Euphrasie added, whispering, “If you want a banana nut muffin, I literally will bring a box full of them by your dorm later.”

“I don’t like bananas so I’ll pass,” The blonde teen replied, “Can I have a cream cheese-filled muffin, please.”

“Sure thing,” Euphrasie retorted before digging in a box in a chair behind them pulling about the muffin Amora wanted and giving it to her, “I’ll find someone else to give all the banana muffins, eventually.”

“Luther likes banana nut muffins,” Loki remarked opening her muffin of how it’s wrapped prison, “Then again, he will eat anything. He’ll take them if no one else wants them.”

“Sweet!” Euphrasie exclaimed, “I’ll see you guys later.”

Amora waved as she and Loki left for the exit.

“Do residents give out food like that every day?” Amora asked attempting to make conversation as they walked toward the main school building.

“It’s normal for treats to be out for anyone who wants a snack, but there are only a few times a semester,” Loki explained, “Although now that Euphrasie is the head RA this year, that might change.”

“She’s very involved,” Amora commented.

“I’ve been here for the past four years, and I’ve known Euphrasie for that whole time, she sees the world like a primary school playground. She must make friends with everyone, and if she doesn’t it’s a bad day.”

Amora giggled at the thought of Euphrasie pouting about not making a friend, and Amora’s laughter made Loki’s cheeks grow hot.

“You, okay?” Amora asked, seeing Loki’s cheeks a bright pink color as if she had just been hit with cold winter air.

Her pear-colored eyes were big and doe-like when they looked over at the British girl. Loki’s flushed face only became darker as Amora continued to glance over.

“I-I’m fine, lovely,” Loki’s voice cracked as she tried to recover and clear her throat “Don’t worry about it’s simple Rosacea.”

Amora looked at her a little confused before entering the main building. The halls filled with students as the two girls walked to their first class together. On one of the upper floors sat their classroom for their first lecture, an AP Gothic Literature class. The class is a smaller size, with three rows of long tables taking up the most space in the room, and only a few people sitting in the classroom with no teacher in sight.

“Oh my god, is that Loki Holloway early to a class,” a boy sitting in one of the chairs in the middle of the class exclaimed.

He has a darker complexion with a box fade, and he’s of the mystical variety given his elf-like ears. He wore a mask over his mouth and a skater-street-style of dress of very feminine colors.

“Oi’ I’m always on time,” Loki replied, making her way over to him while Amora followed.

“Last semester you were late to Mrs. Viloria’s class for half the year,” the girl beside the boy who had just spoken said in a monotone voice. She was white and a natural redhead, her hair large and curly. Wearing a purple jacket and a simple pair of jeans with her nose in a sketchbook

“People can change,” Loki replied, sitting down near them, “These two are Iphigenie and Odysseus.”

“Hi,” Amora commented before sitting down between Odysseus and Loki.

“You’re the American,” Odysseus remarked.

Amora let out a little sound, “I see I’ve been a hot topic.”

“Eurphrasie wasn’t kidding when she said you’ve been the only thing we’ve been talking about,” Loki retorted.

“We get a lot of American tourists but not a lot of American students, I thinks that's why we find you so interesting,” Odysseus explained.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Iphigenie commented, before focusing on her drawings.

“So, do you play D&D?” Odysseus questioned.

“Uh, no, sorry. My best friend is really into it, but I don’t play,” Amora replied. Odysseus nodded, “Well if you ever wanna give it a shot, I’m more than happy to go over the basics with you.”

Amora can tell even with the mask covering his lips he is smiling, “Thanks.”

The classroom soon filled with students, yet the instructor was nowhere in sight even passed the start time for class, there was no adult with the formal education to begin teaching.

“How long has it been Odis?” Loki questioned.

“Uh,” Odysseus sighed checking his watch, “13 minutes.”

“15 minutes and we get to leave,” Amora joked.

Loki chuckled, “Are you actually a troublemaker, lovely?”

“No, but I am willing to skip class if the tea—”

There is then the loud clicking sound of heels against the porcelain floor, making everyone shut up their little conversations, while, who they can only presume is their educator, enters the room. She had a fairer complexion, with white bangs and black hair, and wore a simple national colored bulse and dark striped wide-legged dress pants.

“My apologies, somehow I lost track of time this morning,” she clarified as she pulled out many things from her carry case.

Her voice was similar to Iphigenie, monotone yet more tired, “I’m Mrs. Helvetica Davidson, this is Gothic Literature,” the instructor remarked before beginning to pass out syllabi, “I’m sure you are aware you will be doing a lot of reading in this class there are digital copies on all of the reading material we will have in this class on the school’s Learning Portal.”

“Learning Portal?” Amora asked Loki quietly.

“I’ll show you later this afternoon,” Loki whispered back.

“I don’t like the normal “get to know you” questions, I rather cause violence,” Helvetica commented approaching her whiteboard. Her remark made the class confused, “Not actual violence obviously, just some debate violence,” she added as she began writing on the board.

“My husband and I often have mini-debates, and recently this one has come up.”

Helvetica moved away from the board showcasing what she wrote, ‘Cold showers are better than hot showers.’

“Discuss,” she ordered, before sitting down at her desk.

“Well… a cold shower does help you wake up in the morning,” Odysseus observed after a few minutes of silence.

“That’s assuming everyone takes a shower in the morning,” a student mentioned.

“Taking a hot shower right before bed is the best,” another student said.

“And the steam can help clear the sinus when you take a hot shower,” Amora uttered.

“You have to admit a nice cold shower does jolt you awake,” Loki alleged, “Ice cold water ensures I am awake better than any alarm!”

“You are insane,” Amora muttered.

“Everyone here acting like they take a shower every day,” one student huffed.

“You don’t?!” Another gasped.

“No that’s insane,” Loki joked making Amora giggle, before the class erupted in a loud debate about showering and personal hygiene.

Once class ended Loki walked with Amora to her next class, “Don’t forget we have a break after this class,” she said, stopping at the class door.

“Ya’ know it’s odd, in America we don’t get breaks in the middle of our class periods, I won’t know what to do with the extra 20 minutes,” Amora verbalized.

Loki smiled slightly, “Well you could spend it with me, I can show you one of my favorite places to hide on campus.”

“That sounds like a date,” Amora replied with a smile, making Loki blush a hot pink.

“I-I’m going to go to Algebra now!” Loki almost shouted before leaving Amora to enter her next class, Fashion Studies.

Loki must have bad Rosacea if her face is always red. Nevertheless, Amora looked around the room, seeing an open seat next to a blonde girl around her age, she was wearing a dark red coat dress, with her curls waterfalling down her shoulders.

“Can I sit here?” Amora asked.

The girl looked over at Amora almost turning up her nose in a way, “I guess,” she scoffed.

Amora sat down, getting out a folder for the class, “I’m Amora,” she remarked.

“Cassiopeia,” the girl in crimson sighed.

“Try and stay away from Cassiopeia… she’s will... if I’m an acquired taste, she’s not even tastable.”

Loki did say some things about Cassiopeia, but it’s not up to Loki who Amora does and doesn’t talk to, and who she does and does not get along with.

“Wait… you’re the American,” Cassiopeia gasped.

She said it like a slur, Amora giggled, “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to being known as ‘the American’ but yeah.”

“You killed someone. Didn’t you?”

“Excuse me?”

“To be friendly with Loki you must have done something terrible to gain her favor,” Cassiopeia chuckled, “So did you kill someone, giving someone a good beating with your little hands?”

“I-I didn’t—”

“You-You? HA, you, an American, do not come to this school out of the blue for your last year of schooling,” Cassiopeia explained in her own twisted way, her voice is so light and soft, yet she speaks in such a way that makes her sound so intimidating.

Amora was left unable to speak, she only watched the classroom fill with students. All of them were seemingly more friendly than Cassiopeia who she sat beside.

“I bet you hurt someone!” Cassiopeia exclaimed softly, “I bet you have beaten the ever-loving crap out of so many people that your parents didn’t want to put up with you. HA, dressing all cutesy in pink doesn’t just magically make you a good person, like you think it does.”

It’s so childish, everything down to the words being said. So stupid and plain, movies and TV have made better bullies with more interesting insults!

And yet Cassiopeia’s words hurt all the same. Mostly because it’s true!

Amora’s lucky that it’s the first day, the amount of information she retained from her Fashion Studies teacher was far and in-between, which sucks when she saw she could take the class she was excited for.

“Amora?”

She looked down the almost clear hallway, Loki approached as she stood outside the classroom, she was just in.

“Amora, you okay?” The British girl asked.

“I… I met Cassiopeia…”

Loki formed a scowl on her face, as she looked at Amora who looked unbelievably dejected. The brunette grabbed the blonde’s wrist pulling her through the halls, before arriving at an old dark stairwell with a window looking out to the front of the main campus.

“No one is going to come here. We don’t have to talk, we can just stay here,” Loki mentioned, standing on the landing between the two set staircases, looking out the window and watching Helvetica greet someone on a motorcycle with a kiss in the parking lot.

The two girls fall silent for what feels like the first time since they met, there is a sense of comfort within the silence, yet the gloomy look on Amora makes Loki’s stomach turn as the blondie sat on the steps, her knees in her chest.

“If I tell you something,” Amora began, “will promise not to tell anyone?”

“Promise,” Loki replied quickly, “I may like to talk, but I know when to keep my mouth shut.”

Amora smiled at her joke before sighing, “Back in July… there was this pool party at this rich guy’s house, and Bellamy and I got invited. It wasn’t like a stereotypical party - I mean some people were drinking – but we weren’t. Everyone was outside, and Bellamy said she was going inside to get something to drink, and this guy Reese followed her.”

Loki cringed already putting the puzzle together as Amora attempted to make herself smaller, “I heard Bellamy scream, but even though it was loud outside I know my best friend! And he was on top of her and trying to pull off her swimsuit on the kitchen counters! And that’s my best friend! I grabbed the first thing I could find which was a knife and I… I stabbed him, and then I didn’t think that was enough so I punched him in the face a few times… then someone called the police because I stabbed Resse, which I mean I would have done the same thing if I saw someone stab a guy!”

Loki attempted to speak, yet Amora continued, “Cassiopeia was being a bully, and I mean it’s so stupid now! She didn’t even have good insults, she just scoffed and me being friendly with you basically, as if hanging around you makes me a heathen! But she called me a monster and say some crap that was too accurate and… it bothered me because I haven’t told anyone what happened that night!”

The brunette nodded before humming and saying, “Do you of the Gloucester Executioner?”

Amora moved her gaze from her shoes to Loki, who stared out the window with her lips in a thin line, “I think so, Sullivan Holloway, right? He murdered 35 people off and on for 26 years while he was a nurse, it was a big thing like 10 years ago because he was finally arrested.”

“He’s my dad.”

Silent again before Loki spoke up, “Everyone around here knows it, that’s why Cassiopeia says all that shit. I doubt if she knew you were hanging around me, she would been more friendly. She has her ass so far up her own ass that she thinks Lance Luther and I are all going to be crazed murderers. I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing,” Amora scoffed, “You didn’t do anything.”

“I—”

“No, she’s stupid,” Amora replied, making Loki snicker, “Whether I am hanging around you or not shouldn’t matter, it’s not going to make me a horrible person if I’m friends with you.”

“I don’t know,” Loki chuckled, “It might, I could rub off on you.”

Amora giggled a little, “That will never happen, and you are an acquired taste I don’t wish to acquire, remember!”

“Right… Lovely~”

The nickname made the blondie blush in the darkness of the stairwell, “I’m sorry about your dad,” Amora sighed softly.

“I mean that’s why I want to get into psychology and criminal justice,” the brunette shrugged, referring to a past conversation they had the night before, “I want it an idea of why he did what he did, without having to ask him directly.”

Amora hummed, standing up from the stairs, “Thank you for listening… and sharing.”

“No problem… I have to go downstairs for Chemistry, but I’ll see you in Home Economics, okay?”

“Okay,” Amora replied with a slight smile.

There is a moment where they stare at one another, as if something is supposed to happen, yet nothing does and they go in opposite directions, to head to class. Amora to the 3rd floor for Trigonometry and Loki to the first for Chemistry.

She sat at a lab table close to a window with her larger brother, Luther, dressed in a retro gentleman style sitting to her right, and her nerdy brother, Lance, dressed in a more academic style sitting across from her with Odysseus sitting next to him. The teacher had already gone through all the first-day normalcy and allowed his students to chill before their next class. Leaving everyone to chit-chat with one another at their four-seat tables.

“Sis?” Lance asked as Loki stared out the window.

She didn’t respond, still staring out the window her chin resting in her hand as she was lost in thought.

“Loki,” Luther stated elbowing her in the side lightly.

“Huh? What!”

“What’s wrong?” Lance questioned.

“Nothing—”

“Liar,” Luther scoffed, “What’s wrong?”

“I’m worried about Amora,” she sighed.

“Worried how?” Lance asked.

“Cassiopeia was a bitch to her basically because of me,” Loki answered.

“Okay and?” Luther sighed, “Cassiopeia is a bitch to everyone.”

“But she’s being mean to Amora because she is roommates with me, because she is nice to me, and I don’t want to make her life even more horrible just because she’s roommates with me.” Loki exclaimed, “I like Amora, she’s… ha… lovely, I don’t want her to suffer because I exist.”

Loki also felt horrible about all the stuff that Amora told her, but it’s not her place to repeat that story to anyone even her brothers.

“If I can interject,” Odysseus remarked softly, “If Amora didn’t like being around you, she would have already done or said something to infer that.”

“She’s already not like your other roommates,” Luther commented.

Loki nodded, “I’m just worried about her…”

Luther scoffed, “Don’t fall in love too fast, menace.”

A soft pink blush appeared on her cheeks, “I think it’s too late for that.”

The day went on without issue, Amora went on to discover Iphigenie was in her Trigonometry, and even though they didn’t speak to each other that much as being in the class together, it was not that Amora wanted to do much talking. She met Cassiopeia’s twin sister Calliope in her Home Economics class (a class she also had with Euphrasie and Loki) she was much kinder, shyer, and quieter than her sister dispute looked a lot like her. The American girl went on to formally meet Luther and Lance at lunch then followed Loki and Lance to European History that they then had with Odysseus, who she then had Latin with.

Even though the day ended at two o'clock in the afternoon, it had been a long day and all Amora wanted to do was go back to her dorm room and hide in between the sheets of her bed.

When walking back into the dorm hall with Loki the two of them were stopped by Euphrasie.

“Hey, Loki, do you have an Ouija board?” they asked.

“No,” Loki replied, “Lance might, he likes collecting all kinds of board game stuff.”

“Okay, thanks!”

“Why do need an Ouija board?” Amora questioned her voice laced with a tired tone.

“I wanna get a bunch of us together and talk to the ghost on campus!” Euphrasie exclaimed extremely animated, “As soon as I find one we’re all getting together in the storage room and talking to the ghost!”

Loki and Amora watched their classmate run off to find an Ouija board before laughing, “That sounds interesting,” Amora commented as they started walking to their dorm

“Really?” Loki scoffed, “It sounds like a lame excuse to make us all get along.”

“But if there are actually ghosts, it would be cool to communicate with them,” Amora replied.

“So, I guess if we are going to the ghost club?” Loki asked.

“You don’t have to, but I am going whenever it happens,” Amora replied.

“Oh Lovely, if you’re going that gives me more of a reason to go,” Loki responded with a slight smirk.

5 notes · View notes