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@dolusdiu
Beatrix Chandra / composer / warlock / anya chalotra ā intro. | navigation. Niamh O'Cleary / anesthesiologist / reaper / nicola coughlan ā intro. | navigation.

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STATUS : open. LOCATION : portum performing arts center.
thereĀ wereĀ manyĀ timesĀ inĀ herĀ lifeĀ whereĀ ameliaĀ hadĀ takenĀ veryĀ questionableĀ decisionsĀ ;Ā however,Ā tonightĀ certainlyĀ tookĀ theĀ cake.Ā afterĀ aĀ longĀ dayĀ ofĀ lotsĀ ofĀ rehearsalsĀ andĀ performances,Ā sheĀ hadĀ offeredĀ toĀ stayĀ behindĀ afterĀ workĀ toĀ closeĀ everythingĀ outĀ andĀ organize ;Ā anĀ actĀ ofĀ loyaltyĀ orĀ stupidityĀ āĀ sheĀ asksĀ herself.Ā tenĀ minutesĀ intoĀ herĀ extraĀ work,Ā fiveĀ ofĀ thoseĀ whichĀ wereĀ spentĀ layingĀ onĀ theĀ floorĀ staringĀ atĀ theĀ void,Ā sheĀ wasĀ startingĀ toĀ regretĀ herĀ lifeĀ choices,Ā sheĀ wasĀ almostĀ consideringĀ makingĀ aĀ runĀ forĀ itĀ andĀ leavingĀ everythingĀ asĀ itĀ was.Ā " ratingĀ ameliaĀ finch'sĀ stupidestĀ moments:Ā numberĀ one ...Ā tonight. "Ā sheĀ saidĀ outĀ loud,Ā notĀ havingĀ noticedĀ theĀ doorĀ ofĀ theĀ buildingĀ opening.
ALTHOUGH THERE WERE ACTUAL GHOSTS that haunted the performing arts centre, beatrix would've understood if she'd been confused for one. she spent more time in the centre than anywhere else ā likely even more than all other places combined... but who was going to argue that? that was why when another soul crept around the centre late into the night felt felt inevitable kindship.
ā if this is your stupidest, never me mine... ā beatrix trailed off as she scanned the room. ā you're new, right? ā her eyes narrowed. she wasn't the best at remembering, especially not names or faces, but the woman looked somehow familiar, and bea at least tried with people at the arts centre.
it's been a few days since valerian moved into portum and its been a mixed bag of suspicious whispers, disastrous exes, and one kareem howard being the only real light in his life at the moment. by now, val has fully moved in ā cardboard boxes no longer formed forts around his home and the plants have slowly started to take over. this neighborhood hasn't seen the last of cardboard boxes and moving trucks however, because someone was moving into the neighboring lot! wanting to make a good first impression (with hope that he starts to get more friends in this town) valerian walked up to his new neighbor's front door and rung the doorbell. carried by his other hand was a potted succulent to offer as a housewarming gift. the door then swung open. "hi! i'm your next door neighbā NIAMH?!"
closed starter for @dolusdiu !!
STARTING OVER WAS WITHOUT A DOUBT one of niamh's favourite things about moving ā the other surely being meeting new people. given the frequency of her moves, it used to be rare for her to actually own a lot of stuff. usually a couple of bags at most. this was only the second move ever that required them to have some kind of truck to bring things. she had yet to unpack a whole lot when the doorbell rang. a friend !! or at least she hoped they'd be.
they swung the door open and their welcoming smile shifted. they'd been ready to greet a new face, not a familiar one. ā siā i mean valerian! oh my goodness. what are you doing here? did you just say neighbour? ā that was potentially the best news she'd heard in the past century. ā oh my! it's so good to see you. ā words were flying out of her mouth and she had no control to slow them down. ā please come in. ā they opened the door more and gestured inside. ā you have to tell me everything. it's been too long since your last letter ā clearly. ā
Skylar looked the other up and down as she considered her. She looked positively sleep deprived. Skylar guessed if you were still out at this time, you probably weren't having a good time. Normally, she might have said fuck off. Leave me alone. But it looked like this woman needed something to take the edge off. "Sure." She offered instead, pulling a spare cigarette out of her jacket pocket and holding it out for the other. "You pulling an all-nighter or something?" Skylar wondered idly, not particularly caring for an answer but asking anyway.
BEATRIX WONDERED IDLY IF THE other person was trying to guage what kind of monster being she was. she deftly plucked the cigarette, giving her a nod of gratitude. ā not intentionally... but i suppose so. ā she quirked an eyebrow. ā and you? ā she didn't seem nearly as sleep deprived as bea ā then again that was a low bar. ā not to keep asking you for things when i haven't even confirmed your name yet, but you mind if i borrow a light? ā
who: open to all
where: outside Portum Veterinary
when: late at night
"Listen, I just stayed late at work for a prolapsed anus. If anything, I earned this cigarette. So stop looking at me like that." Sure, Skylar had been meaning to quit. It really was a nasty habit. But in the grand scheme of things, her body had been through a lot worse. She'd allow herself this one vice.
BEATRIX OFTEN GOT LOST IN THE sheet music when at the keys. a melody would come to her and she would sit down and compose for hours, forgetting hunger, thirst, her sense of self. she was hobbling her way home, sleep deprived and still halfway in the bars of music when she paused to stare at smoke dancing in the night. her eyes were pulled to the source and she stared absently. it was too late for her to catch herself and pull her eyes away. she pursed her lips. ā bold of you to assume i'm thinking anything at all, ā she muttered, mainly to herself. ā do you have one to spare? ā she asked over the slight wind.

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HOUSE, M.D. 1.21 ā Three Stories
⢠š» STATUSĀ Ā ļ¹ open ⢠š» LOCATIONĀ Ā ļ¹ portum university
asĀ duskĀ fell,Ā theĀ flickeringĀ flamesĀ ofĀ vigilĀ candlesĀ castĀ aĀ softĀ glowĀ againstĀ theĀ approachingĀ night.Ā elianaĀ stoodĀ atĀ theĀ edgeĀ ofĀ theĀ gathering,Ā armsĀ wrappedĀ aroundĀ herselfĀ moreĀ forĀ comfortĀ thanĀ warmth.Ā sheĀ didnātĀ feelĀ rightĀ gettingĀ tooĀ close,Ā toĀ theĀ areaĀ whereĀ thoseĀ whoĀ actualĀ knewĀ theĀ deceasedĀ hadĀ gatheredĀ toĀ mourn.Ā however,Ā itĀ alsoĀ didnātĀ feelĀ rightĀ notĀ toĀ doĀ anything.Ā sheādĀ onlyĀ beenĀ inĀ portumĀ forĀ aboutĀ threeĀ weeksĀ orĀ so,Ā butĀ sheādĀ beenĀ soĀ hopefulĀ afterĀ reunitingĀ withĀ herĀ siblingsĀ thatĀ thisĀ wouldĀ beĀ aĀ safeĀ placeĀ toĀ startĀ over.Ā ellieāsĀ eyesĀ scannedĀ theĀ facesĀ aroundĀ her,Ā manyĀ ofĀ themĀ unfamiliarĀ butĀ sharingĀ inĀ theĀ solemnĀ moment.Ā theĀ peopleĀ ofĀ portumĀ hadĀ allĀ gatheredĀ forĀ theĀ sameĀ reasonĀ āĀ toĀ honorĀ theĀ memoryĀ ofĀ theĀ fallenĀ vampire,Ā andĀ toĀ findĀ aĀ senseĀ ofĀ comfortĀ amongstĀ eachĀ other.Ā Ā everyoneĀ sheĀ hadĀ metĀ hadĀ toldĀ herĀ whatĀ aĀ sanctuaryĀ portumĀ hadĀ beenĀ forĀ them,Ā butĀ nowĀ recentĀ eventsĀ leftĀ themĀ allĀ wonderingĀ justĀ howĀ safeĀ itĀ trulyĀ was.Ā ādoĀ youĀ thinkā¦āĀ sheĀ began,Ā herĀ voiceĀ softĀ asĀ toĀ notĀ disruptĀ theĀ sombernessĀ ofĀ theĀ moment.Ā ādoĀ youĀ thinkĀ theyāllĀ figureĀ outĀ whoĀ didĀ this?ā
NIAMH WAS UNCOMMONLY COMFORTABLE around death. death was mortal, it was expected. the passing of a vampire was the exact opposite of all that. she was still fresh to this town. everything about it was unlike anywhere else she'd been, except for this weight... that was the same no matter where she roamed. niamh scanned the crowd, looking for anyone in need of a shoulder or maybe even another lost soul drawn in. instead, she was pulled by someone speaking. she looked young ( though that could always be deceptive ) but even younger by her expression compared to some around her. she didn't seem untouched by death exactly, but certainly shaken more than others. niamh had seen a vampire die before. it was improbable, but possible.
ā i reckon so, ā she nodded along as she spoke, her eyelids fluttering shut for a moment. ā i don't know much about this lovely place yet, but even i know this is rare. ā but death didn't feel rare to niamh, not even this one. she hadn't met the vampire, hadn't been around to meet them. ā as morbid as this sounds, whether the mystery is solved, we've got to keep on living, don't we? ā there was a roughness in her address of death that hadn't been there a century or so ago. ā did you know them? ā she asked, jutting her chin toward the vigil.
(Ā Ā Ā nicola coughlan .Ā demi-womanĀ .Ā she/her/they/themĀ Ā )Ā Ā Ā Ā āĀ Ā Ā Ā blastingĀ Ā reverberate Ā byĀ Ā bears in treesĀ Ā downĀ mainĀ streetĀ weāveĀ spottedĀ Ā NIAMHĀ OāCLEARYĀ sportingĀ theirĀ Ā navyĀ polkadot dress and a wide smile.Ā theĀ Ā thirty-fiveĀ ( seven-hundred and thirty-two )Ā yearĀ oldĀ Ā REAPERĀ Ā whoāsĀ beenĀ inĀ townĀ forĀ Ā two weeksĀ oftenĀ canĀ beĀ seenĀ Ā feeding the birds,Ā visitingĀ local shops,Ā and exploring & re-exploring the fair,Ā orĀ workingĀ asĀ anĀ Ā ANESTHESIOLOGIST Ā Ā atĀ Ā PORTUM GENERAL.Ā peopleĀ sayĀ theyĀ displayĀ Ā sunnyĀ Ā andĀ Ā naiveĀ Ā traits,Ā butĀ weĀ ratherĀ trustĀ theirĀ vibes:Ā Ā tea stained notebooks, a brisk morning with a luminous sunrise, handmade wreaths draped around illegible gravestones, a gentle hand brushing away a tear, and unshapely hideous but somehow delicious cookies.Ā also,Ā weāveĀ heardĀ theyĀ loveĀ Ā dovesĀ !Ā Ā arenātĀ theyĀ fascinating ?
(Ā Ā Ā anyaĀ chalotraĀ .Ā cisfemale .Ā she/herĀ Ā )Ā Ā Ā Ā āĀ Ā Ā Ā blastingĀ Ā doomedĀ byĀ Ā mothicaĀ Ā downĀ mainĀ streetĀ weāveĀ spottedĀ Ā BEATRIXĀ CHANDRAĀ sportingĀ theirĀ Ā classic scowl andĀ antique silver locket. theĀ Ā twenty-nine ( fifty-eight )Ā yearĀ oldĀ Ā HYBRID ( WARLOCK )Ā Ā whoāsĀ beenĀ inĀ townĀ forĀ Ā tenĀ yearsĀ Ā oftenĀ canĀ beĀ seenĀ Ā deep into a bottle of whiskey, humming a tune & scribbling on a piece of paper, Ā flipping through newspapers, and avoiding practicing magic near anyone,Ā orĀ workingĀ asĀ aĀ Ā COMPOSER/PIANISTĀ Ā atĀ Ā PORTUM PERFORMING ARTS CENTRE.Ā peopleĀ sayĀ theyĀ displayĀ Ā loyalĀ Ā and Ā jadedĀ Ā traits,Ā butĀ weĀ ratherĀ trustĀ theirĀ vibes:Ā Ā fingers filled with rings, darkĀ winged-eyeliner, body tight clothing or completely oversized ( no in between ), secret glasses no one ever sees her wear, and candles for main sources of lighting.Ā also,Ā weāveĀ heardĀ theyĀ loveĀ Ā WILD ROSESĀ !Ā Ā arenātĀ theyĀ fascinating ?Ā

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Hari Alluri, from āAncestral Memoryā,Ā After Kwame DawesĀ