#letroadectask

Acacia and Emmett - On an abnormally cold evening for Lucrece, Acacia and Emmett wake on separate ends of campus at 3am. Above them looms a smiling blonde woman who they can’t help but feel as if they’ve met before. Her presence is soothing, but there’s something strange behind her eyes. They wake again in the morning to find she was nothing but a dream, but they can’t shake how real she had seemed or how badly they wanted to see her again. 

(Motivation: Virginia didn’t seek these two out. As she attempts to make her way back to the mortal realm on the fifth anniversary of her death, she is drawn to them like a moth to a flame. A High Priestess needs her coven, and power recognizes power.) 

Tillie - Retreating from St. Joan’s and her roommate, Tillie camps out on DuPont Hall’s lawn with her newly acquired transistor radio. The only channel it seems to be able to reach in the middle of the night is on a Dave Clark Five marathon, and she’s almost grateful when the music shuts off before the machine starts talking to her.  “Hello Charlotte,” a voice, warm like honey, calls out to her. In a moment of fear, Tillie shuts the radio off. It turns itself back on and the voice doesn’t sound quite as warm. 

(Motivation: Virginia sees a bit of herself in Charlotte, the two both committed to their own greatness. Virginia knows just how seductive, and corrupting, power can be. What she’s really looking for in this endeavor is a new right hand (wo)man.) 

Natalia - It was late and Natalia couldn’t sleep. Restless to move but unwilling to put on shoes, she takes to pacing the floors of St Joan’s and ends up following the overwhelming, nearly cloying, scent of lilacs and petrichor to the far-end of the fourth floor, to a single window inexplicably covered in fog. Before her eyes, a large circle is drawn in the pane.  Something, someone, screams her name and the window shatters. With the fog cleared, she can see now that whatever it was wanted her attention on Dr. König’s cottage in the far distance. 

(Motivation: Virginia is smart enough to know that she cannot explicitly direct any of the students to Dom’s house, or tell them what it is that she wants that’s inside. Virginia is reliant on Natalia’s audacity to get her, and the others, inside of the cottage.)

Dae - Dae had made a mistake. As smart as he was, the excitement of recent weeks had led him to forget an upcoming essay on German philosophers … which was due when the sun came up. He had expected the cramped basement of the library to be empty, certainly at this hour everyone else had already realized they’d forgotten about the essay. Instead, where he went looking for Kant, he found a towering, nearly translucent blonde woman who seemed to have been waiting for him. 

(Motivation: Virginia is something of a predatory spirit and she can smell the grief on Dae, and she seeks to use that to her advantage. After all, Dae has questions and she has answers.) 

Eve - Eve, once again aggravated with her roommate, goes to write her 20th diary entry about the fact. What should’ve been a blank page is instead filled with a nearly illegible message, warning Eve to stay away from her French professor, lest she suffer the consequence of getting too close. To make matters worse, it seems no one else can see the writing on the page … or the next one as the entries keep coming.

(Motivation: Eve is obsessed with her man. Virginia doesn’t believe death annuls a marriage. While Virginia may be seeking to turn the others into followers, Eve has already landed herself on her bad side.) 

Meredith - Meredith had returned to her dorm late, with the sound of her roommate’s snores filling the dark room. Satisfied with the light of the moon, she made her way to her bed, dropping her shoes, bag, and clothes behind her. She had expected her mattress to be soft, instead something had been buried under her blanket. Retrieving the object, she found a strange book in what appeared to be a fictitious language. What was most strange was that Meredith could read it, finding its contents concerned with communicating with the dead. 

(Motivation: This is a bit of power transference from Virginia to Meredith, because the eventual object they’re stealing from Dom’s house is written in the same language. Virginia senses an overconfidence in Meredith that will keep her from being too interested in this book’s warning section.)

The box was thrown onto her bed with little thought while Acacia searched room for a pair of scissors slice through the tape. Her dorm apartment address was in the familiar scrawl of her mother’s handwriting and Acacia could not think of what her mom could have sent over despite the younger girl was back in her childhood home a few weeks ago. Acacia pulled out a second box and along with it, a note that seemed to take flight with the wind that it gathered. Amused having to catch a flying note, the young girl scanned the words of her mother’s pristine penmanship before letting out a deep sigh. 

Opening the box to find a beautiful new dress in a light blue, the satin catching all the light was supposed to make Acacia happy. And for the most part she was. It was a considerate gift from her mom to have sent down, her parents knowing of the forthcoming Sadie’s Hawkins dance from the school newsletter, but even if it wasn’t directly said, the message was clear: College is almost done, find yourself a husband, and settle down. 

The worst part of it all was that Acacia really understood where it came from and it felt like what they wanted was the easiest path for her. No matter how smart she was, no matter how well she did in school, her role in life had one true end, no matter what else she had to offer the world. And the scariest part of it all was she was starting to believe it. She didn’t know what was going to happen after her final school year. There were decisions to make that are looming over her head but even then Acacia was starting to doubt her own judgement.

Eight of Wands Upright –– movement, fast paced change, action, alignment, air travel

It was only the fourth week into the semester but it felt like time was moving too fast. Midterms and term projects were looming around the corner and all Acacia wanted to do was scream at time to stop, just for little. Day to day, she at least knew what she needed to do. Read those chapters, find five more sources for her research paper, get her notes back from Cameron from her Public Admin class––her to-do list was never ending but Acacia managed with the level head. The short-term goal always was good grades, regardless of what was to come next. Grad school, public administration, a law firm? It wasn’t as if it was a gaping black hole at the end of her school career, but none if it felt right and none of it made sense.

Acacia had no time to really worry because at least everything else felt like it was falling into place. It was her final year and she was stressed, but she was flying through. She was like a leaf in the wind, letting the current take her where it needed her to go, harnessing all the energy and joy there was to life. To get to spend time with her friends and learn things, to welcome the cool autumn nights and socialize with her peers between classes with toasty cups of coffee in their hands discussion how the world is changing and how it was theirs to do with as they wish.

Even if she felt like she wasn’t doing enough, Acacia at least knew she was at least doing good.

Knight of Cups Upright –– creativity, romance, charm, imagination, beauty

But even as she sat on her bed looking at the beautiful dress, the satin feeling like water under her finger tips, Acacia felt this weight in her heart warm like its own mini sun. A dance where it was in the girl’s power to ask felt very right and there was only one person that Acacia would want to ask, even if it was against her better judgement. 

Even if she was a little annoyed at the hidden message, it was still a beautiful dress. She pulled it out from the box and let it cascade down like a fabric waterfall before holding it close to her body, pretending like there were arms circling around her from behind with a head coming to rest on top of hers, forming that wonderfully goofy grin she loved so much.

It was a scene in her head that Acacia could only wish she could capture on paper. Her own doodles were taken from real life, scenes that really showed no emotion than through the roughness of her lines. She’s never tried to really capture human likeness, no that was for someone that was truly talented and gifted with a pencil, and had the time to practice and practice. Acacia was good at art, but she was better at studying, even if one was a little more fun,

Dan stood completely still, his hands in tight fists. He could feel fighting words piling up in his throat, ready to lash out, but he did his best to swallow them down. Now was not the time.

"And for another thing, you knew this was not-"

Dan stopped listening again. He concentrated on the broken pottery at his feet. The glazed pot shattered on impact. The crashing sound of his pottery rang on over and over in his ears. He could barely hear the faint tapping of his father's footsteps pacing back and forth. His mother's gaze burned into the right side of his cheek, like the burning of tears in the back of his eyes. Lou was long gone to some friend's house, she couldn't bail him out even if she wanted to (which she most likely didn't). He would have to endure this episode on his own.

"For fuck's sake, Dan. Have some respect for what I've built-"

Dan winced at the idea of his father and respect. When was the last time his father showed him any respect? Dan can't remember, probably never. He also can't remember all of the times his father yelled at him for petty mistakes, there were far too many anyway. There was certainly no respect in smashing his pottery, Dan knew that much. His nails dug into his palms as he tightened his fists further. Where did his father get off? What gave him a right to dictate Dan's life? To ruin his work?

"Furthermore, I'm tired of your little art projects, you aren't in first grade anymore-"

Dan tried to think of a time when his father didn't dismiss his passion. Nothing was coming to mind, though. The shards of his pottery seemed like a fitting metaphor for Dan's relationship with his father. It was broken, it had been for a long time. He can't remember how it got so bad, but to be honest, Dan didn't care enough to figure it out. One day, he would be rid of his old man. One day, no one would need him. One day, he would be able to breathe again. Suddenly, his father's loud voice overtook his thoughts once more. How much longer? His father loved to drag his tantrums out...

"Damnit, Dan, I said look at me!"

Dan's head snapped up, tears of frustration in his eyes. His father didn't even flinch at the sign of emotion in his son. He clicked his tongue, "Why are you such a pansy? My son, of all people, turned out to be some fruity baby." He shook his head in disappointment. A soft cough came from the corner of the room, Dan's mother simply redirecting the conversation. His father sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose with two fingers. "You're going to Le Troadec, and that's final." With that, his father left the room. Dan remained still, fighting his tears back. His eyes wandered over to his mother, who quietly stood from her seat. She gave Dan a pitiful look, disdain in her weary eyes. Dan couldn't match her gaze, looking to the floor again. He listened to her heels clicking against the hardwood floors as she too left the room. Once the echo of her footsteps completely faded, Dan let the tears fall from his eyes. His entire being shook as his muscles finally loosened. He let his fingers uncurl, red marks reviling themselves. He slowly kneeled and began gathering the tiny, glazed shards.