#bdrpshere

@professor-lungri

Sylvia was keeping herself busy at work.

She had a cart of books she was pushing along, the soft tapping of her heels heard as they pressed unto the floor. It was always a good sign when one’s heels could be heard. It meant all was quiet, as it rightfully should. Her library was behaving itself, exactly as she liked it. 

Some of her co-workers currently had the front desk covered and so the head librarian took to placing back the returned books to their proper shelves in the library. Sylvia had a method in which she did this during open library hours. The brunette always placed away the books in the aisle that were not occupied by students and/or anyone else first.

Her reasoning? Simple, Sylvia didn’t want to disturb the researching process. Finding the perfect book was a process, and Sylvia was very keen about that piece of knowledge. 

It was in an empty book aisle now where the brunette parked her cart, grabbing a few books in hands so that she could place them away. She had put one in it’s proper spot when she heard the soft calling of her name. Even though low, it had still startled the woman, causing her to jump slightly as she turned around. 

It was Shere, one of the professors on campus. Sylvia gave him a warm and rather sheepish smile, her cheeks coloring red at how embracing she must have appeared jumping as she did. With her free hand, the brunette pushed in her glasses that were threatening to fall off her face. 

@professor-lungri

Raksha was finishing up adding the last final things she needed for Rhea’s baby bag. Rama had gone to work, picked up an extra shift as he would have been off today and so that had left the brunette alone with the baby, which was okay now. 

The therapy has been helping with her relationship with her child. ‘

The thing was, however, since her husband was suppose to be home, now Raksha wasn’t in the mood to well remain in the apartment alone and so she picked up her very soon-to-be eight month baby and strapped her up on the stroller. 

With the baby bag now hanging over her shoulder, Raksha left the building and began heading to Pride U. 

The forest’s tree line was now getting closer to the town, some of it’s branches and tree’s encroaching the main streets. She could here the whispers of the exotic type flowers that were heavily being spoken about in town, secrets being thrown out in the fray and one’s that Raksha really could care less about. 

Rhea always ever being the curious one had managed to lean forward some and grab a hold of one of the flowers, ripping it from off it’s roots. It whispered to her of vaaghs being in town as the baby laughed hearing the soft small voice. Funny, how they were about to visit one now. 

Raksha reached the building she was looking for, pushing the stroller along until she reached the room she knew Shere would be in. Opening the door, she entered with Rhea in toll smiling at the professor who was standing by the dry erase board. 

Orville was taking a break, so what? It wasn’t like anyone was going to be paying attention to him anyways. Not unless they needed him for something, which was not likely after hours when everyone had gone home. If he was going to have to stay another hour or so longer in order to get off of his feet, then so be it, he could afford it. No one was waiting for him back at his flat, he’d had a late lunch so he wasn’t hungry, and there was no other reason for him to go home. 

He was sat in one of the janitor’s closet, a small narrow room tucked away in a hallway no one ever ventured down for a reason, in a small metal folding chair, feet propped up on the work bench, reading. He had never been one for reading when he was younger, to focused on the go-go-go, trying to keep up with his older brother, always on the move. There had been no room in his life to sit down, let alone read.

But he was now, reading The Spirit of St. Louis by Charles A. Lindbergh in his right hand as his left rubbed his cheek. The chair he was in was tilted back just a little, rocking with his weight as the balance tried to find just the right place to hold him up. His mother always warned him to keep all four legs of a chair on the ground, but he never did listen to her when it came to things like “safety” or “health.” Not the best move on his part, but he was a stubborn kid through and through. 

Still was. Only in the form of a man without his mum to warn him. 

Bianca had spent a lot of her time in Swynlake thus far trying to speak to as many experts and academics as she possibly could. Many of these people were at Pride U because they specialised in subjects such as magizoology or archaeology or a whole host of topics relating to the town. They knew its history, its people, and they were passionate about their chosen subjects. They were the best people to speak to, really.

It was starting to become familiar to her, this place. She had considered teaching herself, of course - she had studied Sociology in university, a course offered by Pride U and one she could easily give a few lectures on, but it may have to wait, until her cover was a little more secure and was a little further in her research. Right now she had to focus on making connections, and finding out information. She had a job to do, after all.

It was after one of these interviews, walking along the halls of the university, that she saw a somewhat familiar face. Not one she had seen in person before, perhaps, but certainly one she recognised, from a file or a report, or something to that effect. Both of them were heading towards the elevator, but Bianca got there first, pressing the button and waiting for it to arrive. She had time to reflect on just who this stranger might be.

Bianca knew a lot of people, of course. She met people at galas or parties, she read files, or made connections through the Society. He could be any one of those things, of course, but she had a feeling her connection to him was something she had read on a piece of paper. And then, after a moment, it hit her. Her training had consisted of a year in India, travelling around various small villages, doing their best to educate the public on various Magical creatures, showing them that they meant no harm, that they were to be loved, not feared. Of course, they didn't advertise themselves as the RAS, they went by several different guises, but it had still served as good training for them all. They had been given access to a lot of files relating to various cases of Magick abuse in the country, an that was it. The connection.

"Excuse me," She asked, her lips quirking up into a very slight smile. "Would I be right in thinking you're Professor Khan?"

@professor-lungri

Raksha was six months in and she felt every month of her pregnancy. Granted, at the beginning she hardly realized she was pregnant, more so denied it than anything else, but now her belly was swollen clearly showing how she had a child growing within her.

A girl, as the brunette recalled from her trip down in the Underworld. 

Rahil had been excited for his mother, more so than she was about the prospect of a new child, but the time she was able to spend with her son had grown to be a tremendous healing aspect for Raksha. Now, she could focus on her new daughter without feeling guilt and despair about her. She could love her, be excited at every little bounce of a kick she would give her and know that Rahil would be okay about it.

She could move on. Rahil was happy but she didn’t know if she exactly want to move on in a cafe. Her cravings have been ridiculous lately especially for pastries. It was why she found herself entering the quaint place, wrinkling her nose as she did so. 

When you’re pregnant and have a wolf inside of you, the sense of smell only grows ten times more sensitive then what it was already. Raksha could smell the cigarette smoke lingering on one of the workers back in the kitchen, the strawberry shampoo on a woman who was sitting on the opposite end of the cafe, the breath mint off the little kid by the window, but there was one scent that caught the brunette off guard.

Coincidently, it came from the man right behind her in the line. She smelled.... vaugh. Raksha had only met one once before here in Swynlake, she was unaware of there being more. To quell her curiosity, she turned to face the man, placing a polite smile on her features. 

@professor-lungri

Georgette was back at Pixie’s again.

It was simply easier that way. She had a bottle of water from the River Lethe sitting on her dresser and she was still debating whether or not she was going to drink it. 

She should. She had cried.

Last night consisted of such, her arms hugging her legs as she cried drenched in her own sweat from the nightmare that had awoken her. In the Greek world it had happened to her too and now, she had two different set of memories of two assaults that robbed her of her life and sanity.

She should drink it. 

Georgette believed she was strong enough. Strong enough to face this shit-hole of luck she was given in life. It was who she was, wasn’t it? Georgette Midler the woman who took the pageantry world by storm, who had the media begging at her feet, the person everybody wanted to be.  

She was stronger than this. 

The alcohol was stronger than this. The alcohol made everything better, made Georgette forget about all that had happened to her. Forget that the touch of others made her skin crawl, the smell of cologne made tears fall and the nightmares all dissipated into scattered figments of pieces enough so she can actually sleep at night. 

It always made it better. It was what she was thinking of as she walked through the club with a tequila in hand. She had made it to the bar was already ready for another shot as she found an empty stool bar. She made her way towards the empty seat grabbing the attention of the man that was seated besides it.