forum Must Be The Season Of The Witch (5/6) (OPEN)

Started June 25, 2022 by @CWPoofToxicRush

tune

Name: Emery Takahashi
Age: 19
Gender/Pronouns: agender, they/them
Sexuality: ace panromantic
Appearance: https://pin.it/vKneNkA Emery has a slender, 5’3 frame
Personality: an idealist, calm and reserved but also has this nervous energy about them, passionate on the inside. Perpetually tired at the same time. Driven by their morality, and often drifts into deep thought. Pretty nerdy, and values their academic success. I imagine they hide many sides of themself though, as they have this mindset that nobody cares or that they have to be certain way for other people. Oh yeah, they’re also a people pleaser. Basically an extension of my gifted kid energy, y’know.
Other: their blood is magical and can be used as a shortcut in many spells. Emery tends to use it to enchant objects and for other types of spells, but they can also manipulate it directly (like with blood bending). This takes more energy though, and the more blood Emery uses, the more they are physically drained. Perhaps as a result of this, their nose and ears tend to bleed occasionally, more often than a normal person. They also have a familiar, a falcon named Flint

(Tell me if I need to change anything!)

Emery walked up some feet away from Circe, a book in one hand, and a thick leather glove on the other. Their eyes were trained on the sky above, watching a falcon circle overhead. Once they got a good sense of where the falcon was, they looked down and saw Circe nearby. Curious, they went closer, and saw the cicada in her hand. Emery silently watched it for a moment, then looked up and saw the ants still swarming on the tree bark. Reaching into their pocket, they pulled out a glass vial and pressed it against the tree, trying to scoop up the ants. Once a good amount of ants were in the vial, Emery put a stopper over it, trapping the ants inside. Making sure the stopper was secure, they put the vial back in their pocket.

Circe doesn't mind Emery behind her for the most part, half pretending she doesn't notice so she didn't have to waste her time talking to someone.
Circe never understood why others made small talk to avoid being supposedly "awkward" when small talk itself is the awkward part.
Circe much preferred being seen as rude to avoid awkwardness. Though she never thought about it farther than "I don't particularly want to talk to you, nor do I need something from you. So why bother speaking with you?"
Instead, if Circe wanted anything to do with someone, she would simply stare. Which probably wasn't the best thing to do, but she wasn't about to change that. Circe preffered watching and studying ones self instead of talking to them. She liked figuring out their favorite color or their favorite spell instead of asking them unnecessary questions that lead to unnecessary relationships.
But then again, Circes few on the world was rather twisted.

Her eyes focus on the cicada in her hand as it crawls out of its shell, careful not to help it along the way in order to give it the most natural molt possible.
To her, she didn't think helping something unless it was life or death was necessary. Because one day you won't have that help. But if you've had that help, you're going to expect it then next time and thus fail. What would be the point in that?
Circe failed to realize that help didn't have to always be a harmful thing and can actual aid in growth and success more than anything.
She didn't want the cicada thinking it could simply stop trying because she helped it. It would die in its own shell of skin if it did that.. So she held her hands still as it finished. She looks around for a place to set it while it did so as she quickly grew impatient. Her eyes catch Emery collecting the ants and her brows furrow "why would you do that?" She asks, her tone a bit frustrated.
"You're trapping them. Why? Did they do something wrong?" she says, not realizing how use she sounds.

Emery focused on Circe when they heard her speak. They shrugged. “What? It’s good spell material. Besides, I didn’t take too many. The colony they belong to will survive without them.” They checked the sky again, then looked back. “Did I offend you somehow by taking these ants? Do they belong to you?” The questions were genuine. Circe fascinated Emery sometimes, and they had noted her apparent fondness for the creepy-crawly things of nature.

Morgana eventually gave up her fruitless attempts to return to her reading, deciding a change in scenery was in order. She hopped down from the window sill, grabbing her messenger bag and sliding her book in, shouldering the bag to go head outside.

Name: Arthur Gardner
Age: 17
Gender/Pronouns: He/Him
Sexuality: Straight
Appearance: Arthur has blond hair, with dark brown eyes. He's 5'10, he usually wares casual clothing, Nothing that would catch anyone's attention.
Personality: Arthur is usually just a type of guy who'd sit in the back, and try not to get into any trouble. If there would be a fight, he'd be the one to try to stop it. He's quiet at first but just like a flower, he'd open up.
Other: (I haven't rp'd in a while so I might be just lil' rusty!)

Arthur had woke to a loud sound in his room. What the… he thought, half asleep. He got up to see, he had knocked over his stuff. Noooo He grumbled. Arthur got to his feat, made his bed, got his clothing on, and then picked up his stuff. I think I'll head out. I over slept Arthur thought, While grabbing his satchel, and went out.

(i like Arthur! :3)
Circe let out a heavy sigh, "they should belong to anybody. Not even you." she says, mumbling the last few words before looking down at the cicada as it continued to crawl out of its shell. "do what you want." she rolls her eyes as she sets the cicada onto a separate tree. When she stands up, bugs fall off of her white dress and brown and green grass stains blotched the fabric. She dusts them off and turns around to them "what're you doing out here anyway?" she looks them in the eyes, glaring in the slightest.