EMPIRE RP

Dearest members,

While we were very optimistic to see Empire’s story through to the end and truly hoped to be able to wrap things up, it looks like we will be unable to do so. Though we had a direction we wanted to go in and plans to create a closed loop of the story, that simply won’t be possible. We are very proud of how far Empire’s come and of everybody who brought amazing characters to life, creating a space where writers could find a community with each other. It is bitter sweet to say goodbye, but we are grateful for every second we’ve had: for every dramatic event people participated in, for every plot drop that left people shocked and eager for more, for every thread that graced our dash and showed how talented all our members were. We look at Empire’s run with nothing but happiness and peace with the decision to close, knowing that all writers who’ve stuck around will continue to flourish and thrive in all their future writing endeavors. Thank you for an amazing two years and we wish you all the best.

Arya Davenport, 24/1000+, Original Werewolf

BIOGRAPHY

TW: Allusions of Sexual Assault and Abuse

Some girls are born with a fight etched into their bones. In a time when girls were expected to be proper ladies, Arya only had one answer to the question: what do you want to be when you grow up? Her answer: Gale. It brought a chuckle to most who heard it. The way she wanted to be a hunter, to work with her hands instead of worrying about who was going to kiss the back of them.

And the truth was, she was good at it. Exceling early on horseback and with the longbow. It often anger the people of her village to see her prove to be better than some of their boys. She bested them in the hunt, and wasn’t shy about playfully poking fun at their abilities. This, only served to make the situation worse, however.

To say she made it through the situation unscaved, would be the story she spun for her family. Bruised and scrapes were excused by simple accidents. She’d climbed to high and skinned her elbow on the way down. Or fell into the creek bed and bruised her cheek. There was always an excuse, and a good one at that.

Arya had always been a hard worker, it was easy to believe that whatever occurred was a consequence of her own making. In a way, she supposed it was.But each day, she came home to a family she loved more than anything. Despite arguments and occasional bickering. So she could take it.

As the years went on, she watched her siblings find suitable matches and as happy as she was for them. The change of seeing them every day, to only knowing them in letters became harder and harder to handle. With the wolves outside her door, becoming more and more vicious by the day.

One day, she came home with her clothes torn and bleeding. And a once lively and spirited girl, got quiet for a very long time.

The night of the change, she was working with a local blacksmith’s apprentice who didn’t mind having a girl around his shop. She’d gone out to get more wood for the fire, and the last thing she remembers is walking to the woods and hearing the sounds of a hunting party off in the distance.

When she woke up, she was surrounded by death. The corpses of the hunters, their dogs and the stag they’d been stalking all littered around her like confetti. Their blood stained her hands and coloured her teeth a pale pink. Her knees buckled when she tried to stand, all she could do was look at the red of her hands and watch them shake like leaves in the wind.

But there was a call deep inside of her, that told her the only place to go now, was home.

The blacksmith’s apprentice helped her up, and she was thankful his body wasn’t one of the ones rotting back in the woods. He looked at her dead in the eyes as he wiped the blood off her hands, and told her it was a wolf that killed those people. And she was lucky to be alive.

They repeated it together, over and over until the story almost felt real. But she could still taste them on her tongue as she said it.

When she reunited with her siblings, she thought she’d be the strongest one. The one to repeat what the blacksmith’s boy had told her back to her siblings until they all believed it too. That there was no such thing as people who turned into wolves. That all of this was just a shared bad dream and they’d wake up soon enough.

But as they went on she felt herself grow weaker, and more afraid than she’d ever been. Arya made a choice in that moment that still haunts her to this day. 

She walked out on them. Walked and kept walking until someone came to get her at the edge of the river. She snapped at them, shouting to leave her alone and repeating the words.

It was a wolf. It was a wolf. It was a wolf.  

Over and over and over again.

That night drove her away from her family, a wedge admittedly of her own making. Although she was physically with them as they figured out their powers. She struggled controlling the anger and grief she felt for a long time. Making the process of honing her powers an uphill battle.

When her family separated again, she found herself resenting them and the fact they’d went their own again. This time leaving her with a situation she, outwardly looked like she was handling well. But inwardly was storm of mishandled emotions.

Arya was angry, at the curse, at the world and that meant finding a fight wherever she could look for one. Her disdain for people drove her into the woods for the most part. Years went by where she barely wanted to be in her human state and the more time she spent away from people. The more feral she seemed to become.

It wasn’t until she was creeping along the edge of an English fishing village, and met a boy who looked eerily like the blacksmith’s apprentice that she found a reason to reintegrate into society. First as a wolf he’d leave scraps for on odd nights when he stayed behind to work. Then eventually as a girl who moved into town from a small village on the other side of the country.

When the village was attacked by invaders, she got her fight. The battle was as blood scattered as that night with the hunting party. It felt like history was repeating over again, but this time. She was the wolf she’d denied herself being back then.

Arya picked up whatever weapons she could find in the back of the Blacksmith’s workshop, and joined the fray. She felt alive for the first time in a long time she felt like she was in control of her feelings. There was a place to put her anger.

The only consequence was that her Blacksmith was as brave and foolish as she was. She found him bleeding at the forest’s edge, she managed to bring him back to the shop and nurse his wounds. And the thought of losing someone she cared about again, was enough to drive her to a decision she’d never made before.

As soon as he was well enough, she bit him. If he was strong enough to survive this, she was sure he could take it. And when the full moon came he became the first person she turned. Though he’d hardly be her last.

Together they went from war to war for years. Defending small villages all over the English countryside. Never staying in one place too long. As they traveled their group grew into a like minded grow of would-be revolutionaries. The only time she left them, was when her blood came calling.

In war, her ferociousness was an asset. But in her personal life, it became as much a curse as her werewolf side was. Fights between her and her pack were common. Tempers flared and her partner often had to stop things from escalating.

They lost some of their members to battle, but others they lost because they thought they could bring down an original who was blinded by her own stubbornness. Through it all, he stood at her side. Nursed her wounds like she had nursed his.

It wasn’t until one particularly nasty fight that things became clear to him. Arya had got between a fight, two pack members were arguing about where they should go next. The words exchanged by them were dust in the wind now but hers would echo in that forest for centuries. Names he hadn’t heard ever leave her mouth came out in that moment of pure unedited emotion. Gale, John, enough!

After the fight, he found her by the river’s edge and sat beside her until morning. Asking her about the names and the people behind them.

Being angry was easier than being afraid, being sad, feeling guilty. He loved her enough to tell her that she needed to let it hurt than let it go.

When she finally lost him after years and years together, she returned to her brother in Australia and started working toward finding some sort of balance. When the chance to reunite with the rest of her family in the New World came about. She was happy for a chance to start over.

+ vigorous, quick-witted, passionate, bold - abrasive, stubborn, temperamental, opinionated

HEADCANONS

Grief - In a twisted sense, the curse had brought Arya what she wanted. Her family was back together again like she’d wished hundreds of times. However, her grief over the lives often came often came out the wrong way. Her words a little too abrasive, or dry. The early days of the curse saw her switch from bargaining to anger multiple times. And it took them going off in their own directions again, too really get it all sorted out.

Pack - While her family were away Arya took after her brother Gale once again, building and rebuilding her own packs. Often with personalities that mirrored each of her siblings, trying to rewrite what she’d done that night. Figuring out the ways in which she could have been better. Reacted kinder. Been more compassionate. It was obvious, the way she’d occasionally mess up and call them by her siblings names when situations got heated. Guilt was eating away at her. Which made some, think that they could take her position from her easily.

Wolf - Where she had boldness in her old life, she has strength in this one. All the fights she’d lost as a human seemed to come back to her as a wolf. This time however, she was the hunter instead of the prey. Arya likes a challenge, whether it’s a part of her pack planning a mutiny or finding herself in a war raged territory. She spent centuries fighting, and eventually through each one, she learned to hone her anger into something useful.

Family - Despite everything. Arya was always there for every single family occasion. Every wedding or birth she was in attendance. Playing reluctant bridesmaid or crazy aunt to her sister’s children. One thing was certain: she loved her family. Even if she didn’t always know how to express it. And once the anger was dealt with, the last thing she had left to do was deal with the guilt. And the new world seemed to be a great place for a fresh start.

Occupation: Weapons Tester at the Armory & Bartender at HOWL

Residence: Upper East Side

Affiliation: Davenport

S P R I N G  F E S T I V A L

The last of the frost has melted from the trees and new budding flowers peek shyly through the vibrant blades of grass. Spring has arrived once more. To celebrate the changing of seasons and blessing of warmer weather the towns people have gathered for the annual spring festival.

Vendor’s stalls line the streets with freshly baked pastries and goods for anyone with a bit of a sweet tooth. As well as brewed ales and seasoned meats from the first hunt of the season. Children’s laughter fill the air as they roam freely with their wooden swords and flower crowns. Elders play chess and tell stories of their youth to anyone interested in listening. 

Entertainment is plentiful and on going through the day. Games of both competition and good fun are placed about. One may try their hand at bobbing for apples, archery, mud wrestling, axe throwing, blind man’s bluff, or even attempting to escaping the hedge maze. A jousting tournament is held for the anyone in a cheering mood. Civilians and knights alike are encouraged to sign up and place bets. 

For those with more interested in the arts, they can catch street artists enthralled people with their talent for mere shillings. Turning to the main stage one can enjoy the performances of the theatrical, musical, and comedic variety provided by the local acting troupe. 

People from all walks of life, from peasant to nobleman, have come forth to attend these jovial festivities and bask in the beautiful sunshine and fresh air.

Alexander Henderson

Welcome to New York!

Alexander Henderson, Kit Harington, played by: M

Arya Davenport, Jodie Cormer, played by: Vex

We know everyone is still getting their bearings. Activity checks will resume on Friday.

It’s definitely a very 1500s European-esque feel. America was just barely getting it’s legs around this time and wouldn’t be established for another hundred or so years. As we ourselves are not historians we’ve left some specifics up to players discreation. There is a monarchy but that won’t come into play during out blast to the past (for that reason we’ve left that information intentionally ambiguous and it can also be referred to in ambiguous terms if desired, ie: the king/queen). So you’ve hit it right on the head, Anon. It’s a dream world that looks like the 1500s but has societal norms of present day. Creating a world that promoted homophobia and racism would do a huge disservice to all of our characters and not something we’d ever dream of doing. 

Also, answering another question in our inbox: Death is the only thing that would carry over to reality. 

 Lastly, not everyone remain unaware for the duration of the dreamscape…

We definitely don’t want that to be the case, Anon. We’re more than willing to help you figure out a plan of action to keep you from losing your muse. Please IM us so we can assist you!

PLOT DROP TWENTY-NINE: the city that never sleeps

New York is not where it was...it’s not what it was. When the city wakes, it’s not to the loud noise of busy streets, nor to the smokey scent of a city that never learned to quit. When it wakes, it’s into a dream. Not of their own making but one woven by creatures as ancient and inexplicable as time itself. Creatures working with other beings towards a common goal. One that’s tied lives together and torn just as many apart.

When New York City wakes into this dream together, they’re not aware that their world is not real. That they have woken into a tapestry of lies, expertly sewn together to look like a tapestry of truths. Of absolute and unquestioning reality. The skyscrapers have vanished and no one questions it, the cars are gone and no one’s the wiser. The lands around them are green, raw ground beneath their feet; dirt roads leading from small villages to large towns with castles and manors atop large hills. Knights in armor marred by battle, riders astride horses, vendors selling their wares, dusty dirt roads, cobbled steps, stone houses, ale and freshly baked loaves of bread being served next door to clinking metal– iron against iron, blacksmiths at work.

Only a few know it’s a facade. Only a few have been trusted with this knowledge– the few who’ve been tasked with giving their leaders time. Gaining information along the way as their leaders find a solution to their final problem. But to everyone else, this is their world. Their lives. It’s their truth and no one can change that. Their memories are of this place, their families and friends– their loves and losses, all tied to this home. To this dream that’s not a dream to them. They go from the villages to the towns, they go to balls at the castle, and to the river to fish. They buy weapons from the blacksmith and meat from the butcher. They work as politicians and leaders and warriors and protectors and seamstresses and academics. This place is their home– it’s always been.

The sun rises over New York City that morning. A warm spring day that would’ve had joggers out before dawn and children making after-school plans. But as the sun rises, it’s to a quiet city. A slumbering one. If anyone was awake, they might’ve heard the distant buzz of phones going off throughout the city. Unanswered. They might’ve heard the sound of helicopters overhead, trying to catch a glimpse of what was going on. They might’ve turned on the news and seen reports from all over the globe, with confusion and panic at the thought of yet another attack– one that rendered a city of 8.62 million souls unable to communicate with the outside world. 

If anyone was awake, they might’ve seen a figure leave the city: a woman with golden curls and a determined look on her face if ever there was one. They might’ve seen her leave under the cover of night, past the government barricades and extreme security. And if they’d seen her, they might have also seen the man she left behind, jaw set with focus as he watched her leave, as he remained. The sole guardian of a sleeping city.

PLOT DROP TWENTY-EIGHT: breaking news

“– we’re coming to you live from our New Jersey office. Shortly after three am eastern standard time this morning, Monday April 8th–”

“Reports have been coming in all morning– all communication has been lost with New York City. We’re not sure what’s going on or if there’s been an attack but right now––”

“Bill, we’re in a total black out over the city. No cell towers or landlines or power grid is actually down but no one’s answering anything–– as far as we know, no one outside the city has been able to get in contact with–”

“– has been declared a no fly zone. Airports all over the world are scrambling to reroute flights–– ”

“– shortly after six am, the President and the governor of New York declared a state of emergency. We’ve being unable to get in contact with any emergency personnel or government officials in the city or government, ––no one in or out. All bridges and tunnels closed––”

“–Pete, we’ve been waiting for a report for over two hours now with no feedback. At noon today, National Guard Staff Sergeant William Thompson lead a group of fifteen soldiers into the city– contact was lost almost immediately––we’re not fully certain of the situation––”

“We’ve been able to obtain CCTV footage...dear God….are you seeing this? People...just….people everywhere––”

“–thermal imaging has confirmed that the people of New York are very much alive. Yet everyone seems to be completely unresponsive––”

“Officials are an speculating an airborne neurotoxin. There has been no actual confirmation as to what is causing this city wide––”

“Carol, we’ve just quarantined one of the most populated cities in the world. All I can say is God help us all.”

Astor Sterling, 31, Hunter

BIOGRAPHY

TW: Family Violence, Depression, Mental Illness

The beginning, unlike most beginnings, was anything but ordinary for Astor. He was a byproduct of a love affair that never should have happened, a series of chance events that led to a baby boy - a cherished gift for his mother and a pride for his father, at least for a while. The very early days remain a sweet and hazy memory in his mind, one of those when recollected seem composed entirely of a picturesque likeness. The vivid green grass in front of their house, his mother sitting in it like the prettiest flower, a crown of daisies in her hair and a cheeky grin on her lips, his sister sleeping serenely on a blanket under the setting sun. Their silky spaniel would sit patiently in his lap, letting Astor poke and prod at him with his mother’s stethoscope, an air of importance about him whenever his mother would give it to him. Perhaps the world simply looked better through a child’s eyes, but Astor was always of the opinion that it was his father’s lack of presence that made everything seem so serene, even if his mother seemingly wilted without his presence, like a creature addicted to its poison of choice.

His father was a different story entirely. In Astor’s early childhood he was a sort of passing presence, appearing here and there to bring some gifts and scream at them when they dared get too excited - it seemed like he wanted to fill some role of a father, but never could grasp the concept. He was a fighter, not a parent, and in his mind those things were mutually exclusive. A famed boxer, he had met Astor’s mother when she was a young nurse tending to him, he swept her off her feet and before anyone had noticed they were getting married, the beauty and the beast. But life’s not a fairy tale, maybe that’s why Astor developed a distaste of them early on. When he was old enough, and that’s by his father’s standards, Astor was thrust into the world of supernatural. What was once just a story out of books his mother used to read to him, was now a harsh reality for him, a wide-eyed boy used to hiding in his mother’s arms. He pushed back against his father’s wishes - who was this strange man trying to change the core of his being, trying to make him want to kill when all he was ever taught was that saving lives was the thing to strive for.

It got worse when his father’s career dwindled down the oncoming retirement looming over his head. Violence was his calling, and when that was taken away it simply got redirected at his family. At first, it was his mother who took the brunt of it - desperate to keep her children sheltered, too much in love with the monster to just up and leave. But as years went by his mother turned into a fragile shell of a woman she once was, and Astor would rather die than let his father hurt his little sister, and so he became the primary target of his father. He let his father make a hunter out of him, and as years went by and Astor aged he found that even though he believed himself to be his mother’s son, there was an essence of his father in his core, the anger and the rage and a taste for pain. He learned early on what it was like to hate yourself and be unable to change.

The med school was a compromise, a privilege Astor had to pay for with a promise to continue working along his father’s side. But at this point, the boy had gotten so used to the weight of weapons in his hand, the hours-long practices and his father’s criticism that he couldn’t survive without it. He finally understood why his mother stayed, it was a terrifying, sick urge. An anarchist at his core, though he excelled at his studies, he grew gravely disappointed in the health system, eventually deciding to enlist once he had his degree. His father had been against it, but what power did he have over Astor except the emotional one. His mother had been institutionalized months ago, she was safe, his sister moved away for college and never came back - it was just him and his father, and there was not much he could do when Astor got deployed as a corpsman to Afghanistan. 

 It was outside the system that Astor thrived, untethered by the restraints of a money-driven world - the only objective that mattered was to save the life in his hands, as quick as he could. The three years he had spent overseas shaped him into a doctor he now is, though and unconventional, but still as idealistic as his mother had once been. He returned to the States two years ago, after a bomb went off that killed his best friend and injured Astor. If it were up to him, he’d have found a way to bypass the system, get back in the field, but he’d made a promise to his friend to watch out for his wife and kid if anything ever happened. And so Astor returned to New York, unwilling to get back into the system no matter how much he missed his practice, opting instead for the police academy. Because there would always be a part of him that was unable to stand still, that craved the danger, that went back to his origins and what his father had shaped him into - a fighter.

+ intelligent, caring, brave, loyal, protective - blase, idealistic, stubborn, temperamental, jaundiced

HEADCANONS

He has a tattoo across his back that says “Death before dishonor." which he got sometime during his service in the Marine corps. It serves as a reminder of what his core values and priorities are, and for him it extends beyond the military, a sort of rule to live and practice by.

Cars never interested him, but ever since he was a child he’d had a penchant for motorcycles. Against his mother’s wishes he used to ride them as a kid, and as he got older traded those for bikes that were bigger and more powerful. He loves the raw feeling of the handlebars in his hands and the sheer danger of it. Sometimes when he needs to let off steam, he goes on a highway to speed around for hours on end. 

It seems like Astor inherited his anger from his father as well as the penchant for fighting. Though as a kid he would get into brawls with boys, these days he satiates that hunger at the Sanctuary, and most nights he can be seen there, perfecting what his father had taught him. He hates that part of himself, but it’s a compulsion rather than a choice. 

Every Sunday, without mistake, he has a ‘family’ lunch with Elliott’s wife and 4 year old daughter. It’s a tradition, even though he sometimes goes there during other days whenever he’s needed. It’s a promise he’d made to Elliott that he would take care of his wife and kid if anything happened to him, and it’s a promise Astor intends to keep. He loves the kid as if she were his own, and it’s a sort of compensation for his belief that he’d never have kids because he’d be as much of a failure as a dad as his father was.   

He tries to visit his mother as much as he can, but as years go by it’s harder and harder to see her because the sight of her terrifies him. Sometimes when he visits she almost seems like herself, smiling when she sees him and asking the usual questions about his life, but then she asks about some girlfriend he’d had in high school and seemingly gets lost in time. At other times, she doesn’t recognize him at all, or just doesn’t bother to pay attention. He blames himself for what had happened to her, as if he could have somehow gotten her away from his father and given her a new chance at life. 

Though it’s illegal, he always has stacks of medical necessities tucked away in a cabinet in his apartment, and it’s not uncommon for him to get a call from someone who’s heard that he’s that doctor that will fix the problem if you don’t have insurance or can’t go to the hospital. It’s a way for him to keep doing what he loves even if he’s not officially working as a doc. 

Occupation: NYPD Officer

Residence: Hell’s Kitchen

Affiliation: Rhodes

Hedy Patel-Guerra, 30, Witch (Black Magic)

BIOGRAPHY

TW: Drugs, Alcohol

Hedy Patel-Guerra was born on Tuesday August 9th, 1988 in Los Angeles, California. Young Hedy was born into quite an affluent family who resided in a lovely home in the beachside neighborhood of Playa del Rey. One could see the beach from the living room and could easily spend the day out on the beach without dealing with the traffic in LA. Her father was the CEO of his family’s company, a job he was destined for the day he was born and passed down to him once he graduated college. Her father was able to negotiate a merger that would allow his company to finally make it ways to the states and secure his extreme wealth. Countless invites to parties to schmooze with potential investors and that is where he met his wife. Hedy’s mother was a model and actress who turned towards philanthropy after she got married and had her only child. So the Patel-Guerra family was set and young Hedy had everything she could ever want at her fingertips.

Another thing Hedy had at her fingertips was magic. Both of Hedy’s parents both came from supernatural families and were part of covens in their respective hometowns, though Hedy’s mother joined her husbands coven once they were married and she made LA her official home. Her mother’s magic showed itself when she was a young girl whilst her father never presented any magical abilities. It wasn’t uncommon but he had held hope that it would suddenly happen but gave up hope as he entered his late teenage years and his younger brother displayed magical abilities when he was young boy. So the parents weren’t sure if their daughter would be a witch - but Hedy’s magic began to show when she was only six years old.

The young witch learned everything she knew about magic from her coven and loved being able to do magic. It was something she didn’t realize was missing from her life till she finally had it. Since then Hedy truly believed she had everything she wanted; she had magic and a limitless credit card so she could buy the new dress she wanted when she was out shopping with her friends after school.

Hedy studied right outside Palo Alto, California at Stanford University. Her university years were some of the best years of her life. She loved her studies and did extremely well in all her classes, enough to get honors each year. Hedy majored in communication and international relations which was a lot to take on but her interests varied. Her father hoped she’d want to study business or accounting but Hedy had no interest in taking over his company, she had cousins for that, but more in how a business presented themselves to other businesses, investors, and consumers. Hedy moved into Jerry during her sophomore year till her senior year. It was an independent house residence on campus for students but Jerry only took in housing applications from supernatural students. Hedy loved living there and most of her favorite memories from college come from her years spent with her friends in Jerry. It was nice finding a community on campus of people like her.

While at university when she was only 20, Hedy met a man she instantly fell in love with. He was beautiful, came from a family similar to her own, and had his life planned out once he graduated college. All those things were appealing to the young witch. They dated for the rest of their time in university and graduate school, he was two years older than her and actually studying economics and then business. They dated for five years before he proposed to Hedy which she obviously accepted. The pair had wanted to wait till they were done with school and had both settled down with jobs before taking any further steps, it was the smartest move but they were living together for years at this point. A year and a half later they were married, just seven years shy of when they first met. Cut to two years later and he cheated on her so she sent the divorce papers. Simple as that. She didn’t love him enough to fight for their relationship; it had been over for longer then they’d like to admit but they didn’t question it because everyone thought they were the quintessential couple and perfect on paper. They stopped putting effort in the marriage and started to grow apart- she continued on like nothing happened and he found someone else. Hedy wasn’t heartbroken at all and was extremely ready to start her new chapter. 

On a whim, Hedy applied for a position at BITE Inc out in New York. She had made a name for herself out on the West Coast and wanted to see if she could tackle the East Coast as well. It was a name maybe only a couple of companies knew but she believed she could back up her claims with the work she had done. It came to no surprise to Hedy or her parents when she got the position as PR Specialist for BITE Inc after a couple interviews. Even with the recent news about what is going on in New York won’t hold the witch back. This is the correct career move for her and she is extremely excited to move out to New York even if it seems extremely dangerous.

+ social, playful, dramatic, outspoken - narcissistic, argumentative. greedy, reactive

HEADCANONS

Hedy was of course named after Hedy Lamarr, the inventor and actress from Hollywood’ Golden Age. The actress was responsible for advances in communication technology back in the 40s which lead to modern communication technologies like WiFi and Bluetooth. Many only know her as a pretty face and didn’t how her inventions have impacted our world today.

Hedy was almost in a sorority but quit during pledging. She was legacy adjacent, her aunt was in the same sorority so she was not technically a legacy but her family’s connections and wealth secured her status as a “legacy” which gave her priority over some of the other girls in her pledge class. But the stories her grandmother told her didn’t match the experience she was living. There were so many mandatory events which pulled away time from her studies, the actions required of them were stupid, and she wasn’t going to allow herself to be hazed so Hedy quit in protest. She had no time to get involved in the drama of the greek life when she was focused on getting good grades and had friends outside the group. 

Learned even more about magic during her time in school when she was living with witches from different covens who all came with different life experiences. It was then that she got into black magic, she of course knew about it but hadn’t seen it performed till her late teens. 

Puts together a Jerry house reunion once a year with as many classmates from her three years spent living in Jerry. The attendance varies from year to year but the same six people go every year and they are Hedy’s closest friends. They usually take a weekend trip somewhere or find some music festival to attend - anything to have as much fun as they can just like in college. Though finding them hanging out together throughout the year wouldn’t be uncommon but they have all scattered throughout major cities within the US so it is harder to hang out like they once did when everyone lived in LA. 

She has expensive tastes especially when it comes to fashion. She loves wearing ready-to-wear looks and spending a few thousands when she goes go out shopping. She likes to look good and stand out in a crown and in the office.

Loves a good party! Hedy enjoys planning parties and going to dinner parties with her friends but would much rather be partying the night away. She loves to dance, won’t pass if offered drunks, and can handle her hard liqueur (or wine) pretty damn well.

Can’t see very well so she has to wear contacts or glasses but you’d never catch her in glasses. There are a lot of cute frames nowadays but Hedy remembers the horrid pair she had to wear as a child and the beginning of her teenage years before she got contacts. She has a spare pair of glasses in case but they are kept at home in her bedside table so if she doesn’t have her contact lens case in her purse then she wouldn’t be able to see which isn’t an issue for her. 

Loves a bold lip.

Occupation: PR Specialist for BITE Inc.

Residence: Upper East Side

Affiliation: Unaffliated

Arthur Vale, 32, Vale Shapeshifter

BIOGRAPHY

TW: Death, Murder, Grief

Samuel and Peyton Vale were overjoyed when they gave birth to their firstborn and had a great many high hopes for their son. They often discussed his future whilst watching the young baby sleep; talking about how he would one day be a great and fierce shifter who would lead the family. However, by the time Arthur was nine it was quite apparent that the young boy was nothing how they imagined their firstborn son would be. It was at this time Arthur shifted for the first time and it wasn’t into a grizzly bear, or a polar bear but a spectacled bear; one of the least menacing of the bear species. They begun to recognize the attributes in their son that, perhaps weren’t what they imagined, but were sure to make him exceed any expectations they had for him. Even from a young age Arthur would try to solve conflict with words first. He got into few fights but only after trying to resolve things peacefully first. Arthur was often the calm, voice of reason for him and his two best friends, Matt and Dylan, and he was often the mediator between his younger siblings, helping to solve any childish squabbles.

As Arthur grew older these traits only became more evident. His mother often called him an old soul as he showed wisdom and understanding beyond his years. He would often play with his younger siblings in the subway tunnels, joining in on their various games but also making sure to keep them safe. As many boys did Arthur got into the usual boyhood antics with his friends, but he was always the one who stopped them doing anything too reckless or dangerous; wanting to protect them from harm just like he did his siblings. He loved spending time at the Frey, the bustle and hive of activity always keeping him interested. Arthur often enjoyed simply watching and observing what was going on around him. He began assisting the various stall owners, and his first job was a messenger boy between them. It was only as he got older that Arthur began to feel less contented.

Graduation was approaching and Arthur had been accepted into numerous universities but had delayed in accepting any of the offers. The shifter felt adrift and lacked a sense of direction. Growing up his sense of self had always been so entwined with his family and friends that Arthur didn’t know what he wanted to do with his life outside of them. His younger siblings who were growing up so fast were finding their place in the world, even if they hadn’t realized what it was yet. Dylan had made his decision to attend Oxford University, studying something Arthur knew he would excel in. Even Matt, who seemed to lack the same sense of direction as Arthur, did at least know what he did and did not want from life.

Sitting down with his parents, Arthur readied himself for a conversation he had been dreading. His parents had always been supportive but Arthur was unsure how they’d react to him not going to university. Arthur had made the decision to put it off, seeing no point in attending until he had some idea of what he wanted to get out of his further education. Much to his delight his parents not only accepted his decision, but had been expecting it. Whilst Arthur struggled to see his place in the world, his parents knew exactly where he needed to be. They had seen him take care of all those around him, seen him pickup on the emotions of others that went unnoticed by most, and knew that there were many shifters who needed someone like Arthur in their lives.

And from that moment the puzzle pieces just seemed to fall into place. There were so many shapeshifters who needed his help learning to control themselves and their emotions. The shifters who needed help the most, however, were the young teens who didn’t know what they were or didn’t have any connections to their heritage. Some had been adopted by unknowing humans, or were still in the foster system. Others lived on the streets not having contact with their family who should have been the ones to guide them. Arthur would travel all over America, Mexico, and Canada, going wherever he was needed. Finally knowing what he wanted to study Arthur attended a university in New York, graduating with a PhD in psychology. He knew with a better understanding of how the mind works he’d be able to help these young teens better. 

During his studies and his trips away Arthur still made time for his family and friends. Whilst there were finally other things in his life that gave him purpose and made him happy nothing could take away the love he had for them. Which is why the death of one of best friends hit Arthur hard, what made it worse was that Arthur wasn’t in New York when it happened. What made it ten times worse was that Matt had not only been his best friend, but Devon’s fiancé. He saw his sister’s grief, it caused him physical pain to see her try to grapple with the loss, but for the first time in his life Arthur didn’t know how to help someone. Consumed with his own grief Arthur wasn’t there for his sister as he should have been.

Another blow was struck to Vale family when later that year Dylan was murdered. Arthur had now lost both of his best friends, and despite the grief that he was still plagued with Dylan’s death brought Arthur a moment of clarity. With his friends now gone his family was all he had left. Arthur hadn’t done much to repair the damage done between him and Devon, believing their relationship would heal as they did, but now Arthur didn’t want to waste time. He knew he had failed his sister. That he, out of everyone in the family, was the one who came anywhere close to the grief she had felt when Matt passed and he hadn’t been there.

Arthur did his best to make amends, but unfortunately he wasn’t able to resolve things with Devon in time as a mere two months later she to past away. Not only was Arthur wracked with grief, but also guilt. Arthur had failed Devon, and now it was too late. He hadn’t been able to help her and he hadn’t been able to protect her when it mattered most. Arthur loved his work, but he made the decision to no longer travel and to stay in New York permanently. He could continue his work here whilst also being around to protect his siblings. In the space of a year Arthur had lost three of the people that meant the world to him, and he vowed no more. He wouldn’t fail anyone else. He couldn’t.

+ protective, optimistic, empathetic, dedicated – remorseful, insecure, cautious, dependent

HEADCANONS

Growing up Arthur’s mother used to read to him the legends of King Arthur. Arthur adored the stories she told, and used to admire the knight who would sacrifice themselves to protect those in need. Whilst some of the values are admittedly archaic there were many qualities to be admired. Qualities that inspired Arthur and helped shape him as a person. Arthur still strives to be a noble, chivalrous, and honorable person.

When it comes to technology Arthur is rather behind the times. He’s convinced he only has to look at a computer for it to break. Arthur has never been any good with it, his parents tend to have a better understanding of their phones etc. then Arthur does of his, and he often pesters his younger siblings for help. He spent hours learning how to video call so that whenever he was travelling he could talk to his friends and family face to face.

To this day Arthur’s favourite animal to shift into remains a spectacled bear, however, a leopard is a close second. He felt bad for his mother, knowing that both he and his siblings would inherit their father’s shifter genes. When his mother was in leopard form Arthur began shifting into one to join her and quickly developed a love for the form.

When working with other shapeshifters Arthur often shifts into the same animal they do, he finds it beneficial in teaching and communicating with them. It’s also given him the opportunity to experience being some rather odd and unique animals.  

Arthur still adores the Frey and frequently visits. He loves talking to the various stall owners that have know him since a boy, still carrying the odd message for them, and watching people mill about exploring everything the Frey has to offer. It is, however, now a bittersweet feeling that Arthur gets when visiting. The place is awash with memories of Devon, Matt, and Dylan that bring him both sadness and joy.

Growing up Arthur never had much of an interest in playing or doing anything competitive. If he wins any joy he feels is dampened by the feelings of the losers. The only exception to this is chess. Arthur is a skilled chess player but only plays against himself and his father. He knows that even if his father loses, he is simply enjoying playing with his son.

Not that surprising for a shapeshifter, but Arthur hates being cooped up, and prefers being out in the open. He adores going on long hikes, and loves to challenge himself with difficult walks. One of the reasons Arthur loved travelling is that he got to visit the most beautiful places and go for hikes where no one was around miles. There is a lot New York City has to offer, and many things he loves, but he’s never been a big fan of cities in general.

Over the years Arthur has gotten a number of tattoos. His first were paw prints, five sets of bear paw prints and one set of leopard paw prints going up his ribcage. Arthur actually managed to get prints off his parents and siblings for the tattoo artist to copy. His most recent was done last year. To honour his friends Arthur got a tattoo of a falcon and a wolf.

Occupation: Psychiatrist at Haven Clinic

Residence: Midtown

Affiliation: Vale

Elliot Duval, 24, Duval Witch (White Magic)

BIOGRAPHY

A heart of gold and a boy of leonine vigor effortlessly constructed the eldest brother of the Duval family. Having been born under the convoy of two sisters, it was their immanent sense of compassion and robust quintessence that could mold Elliot under such qualities, his parents a vital aid for his own heart.

Born in the hub of France, Elliot’s life had always been secure. He had witchcraft, the Duval and Tallis legacy indoctrinated upon Elliot not long after he could walk; two loving parents and a practical legacy right in the heart of Paris. The only hard reality of his world was being forbidden to tell any of his close friends about such magic that was ingrained into his very soul; more than proud of the witchery that aligned his very heritage. His parents didn’t quite forbid their children to keep quiet, yet it was tacitly interpreted, the explanation that there were many out there set on destroying their very lineage enough to keep Elliot quiet.

Despite their heavy hand when it came to magic, Elliot spending most of his childhood within the Lisieux, his parents were equally as focused when it came to their children’s education. He thrived with academics, much like his sister Remi, and soon found his love for the arts propelling him further than ever imagined. Accepted into ISCR, Elliot effortlessly integrated himself into the art community, the prestigious school only landing him a two hour flight away from home. All the same, it was an invigorating experience to be away from his family and despite the homesickness felt from time to time, Elliot was able to thrive in his studies. Magic didn’t quite fall to the wayside, Elliot being able to meld it into his everyday hectic schedule, his practice for the arts and his heritage being two things he couldn’t ever sacrifice. Morning meditation and small rituals that allowed him to stay close to passed ancestors offered the tangible relation he needed when away from home, Elliot eventually graduating with a bachelors degree in art history.

Elliot had thrived in Rome, the decision to stay an easy and calculated choice, soon obtaining an internship under a renowned art restorer. Art was as inherent as his magic and his appreciation only grew stronger as the craft was near perfected, only returning back home when his parents had called a gathering of the coven. It seemed that family matters in New York were not getting better; the attacks and extremists that were set on obliterating their family only worsening. Elliot’s focus on alchemy, herbal rituals and related spells, helped him with his choice to travel out to see his Tallis cousins once more. They needed his family’s support, both emotional and magic alike. He had only briefly dabbled in the need of expelling other supernaturals when it came to the sake of saving their own, or victims to supernatural deviants.

Elliot believed in the firm belief of healing, herbalism, spirituality and magick; all reflecting closely to his bind with Earth and even the spiritual nature of shamanism. His parents, while not particularly fond of the delicate path Elliot had chosen had no other chose but to allow him the journey he had selected all the same. At first, Elliot was only meant to stay for a little while, not entirely keen on leaving behind his entire life in Rome, leaving only after a months visitation. But with the news of Remi and his cousin’s own altercations with the enemy, it had left him no other choice but to aide their Tallis counterparts in defeating those who continue to force their family such inured targeting, moving from his apartment in Rome to New York City proving to be a near overwhelming change for Elliot.

+ gallant, proficient, adroit, benevolent – pedantic, shambolic, louche, contrite

HEADCANONS

Is a solid believer in meditation bringing one closer to their magic. He practices the art daily, especially in times of stress.

Ellliot’s magic is mostly herb based, focusing on getting close to the ‘hedge’ in which borders the afterlife and the real world. An important goal for him since arriving in the city is to focus on such hedge magic and to find caol ait, which is the “thin place” that borders the veil between the two worlds, considering the apex of power that has since festered within the city considering the events of the past few years.

Despite the rare use of animal bones for magic, Elliot is against any acts of cruelty and is vegan.

Due to his time in Italy he has come to loathe pizza, having it far too often as a college student, despite the other array of cuisine that was at his very fingertips.

Occupation: Fine Art Restorer & Merchandiser for the Frey

Residence: Greenwich Village

Affiliation: Tallis

Hedy Patel-Guerra

Elliot Duval 

Astor Sterling