#pbstarter

The pressure of countless exams, unavoidable late nights studying, working at the hospital and everything that seemed to be happening in Athos and to the people around her had Aurora reeling. The overwhelming pressure to be and do her best was starting to get to her and it didn’t help that the day had been particularly hard with her mentor unexplainably being frustrated with her all afternoon and evening.

As she walked home and heard the ruffling of leaves near her, Aurora turned and hoped to God it wasn’t trouble. Her restraint and patience was at it’s minimum and any possible assailant seemed was likely to be knifed by the small Saint. Fortunately, it was just a small dog that Aurora recognized. Curious and in no hurry to get home, she followed Darius’ little friend down the path to the destroyed observatory. 

“Flipper,” she called out softly, hoping to get the dog’s attention but it scurried away into the building so she had no choice but to follow. When Flipper stopped in the middle of the telescope room and turned to wag his tail at her, Aurora couldn’t help but smile lightly and bend down. It ran over to be pet as soon as she did. The healer scratched behind the little dog’s ear and ruffled the fur on his head. “... It’s good to see you too, buddy,” she whispered with a sad smile.

Just as soon as she did, Aurora heard footsteps from another one of the empty rooms and turned. Tired and in no mood to get up and be wary of any strangers roaming the observatory at this hour, Aurora just kept herself down and squinted a little as she watched the shadow approach.

INFERNO

WEARING (X) AND (X)

OPEN!!

 Bass thrummed through Rosalie’s veins like a tremor, pulsing its way from the tips of small fingers to the temples the anchor would throw back in a flare of wispy blonde. Either the music or the alcohol had made its way to her head fast enough to blur ecstasy and balance. An ideal way to spend the anniversary of her birth, she reasoned, sneaking away from the public eye and throwing lopsided smirks at pretty strangers.

 Flashing lights of rainbowed hues poured down onto the crowd, pressing the persistent heat to their writhing bodies as Rosalie all too confidently made her way up to the one she had been throwing easy glances at.

So maybe her father’s heart was squeezed apart inside his chest, so maybe her best friend was a Saint hiding her powers who was then put in an early grave as well, so maybe those two had been having an affair for God knew how long — Belle Delacroix was having a marvelous day, and nothing could ruin that. Part of her realized it may have been a little... sacrilegious even, taking the power of her best friend, with her body so fresh in the ground, but this was what she wanted. Now she wielded both swords, fear and love. It was a strange sensation, feeling herself brim with power like this, and the first days after Violette bestowed the light upon her, she had done nothing but let it out. 

Reality had started setting in soon, though. Athos needed some fixing up after all the chaos, and even though Jean-Pierre had taken the reigns of the Kingdom, she — especially with all this newfound power she had, both through the light and her connection to Violette — had a duty to help put it all back in order. She had not made an official statement yet regarding the power she’d lifted from her dead friend; she was still debating if she would, to begin with. And then, of course, there was the fact that despite her best intentions, Belle was mourning. She had loved her father, despite his choices. And Nikita... Dear God — it was like she mourned the friendship, the dishonesty that made her doubt everything now, as much as she mourned the loss of Nikita herself. 

Belle, horrible at processing her emotions in a normal, healthy manner, however, acted this out in the only way she knew how to: a complete lack of empathy and the extremely reckless spending of money. The new powers were an added bonus there too, she let them flaunt, needing the adoration to lift that dark cloud hovering over her — and soon there were people lining up to help carry her bags, or buy her gifts. How Nikita had not flaunted this might baffled her. She sent a few of them on their way to the palace, carrying her new possessions, whilst she found a table at the Golden Apple, not even in a private room. It was good to be seen among the people, was it not? And the eager looks she was receiving from the other patrons were quite an alluring prospect as well. 

“Of course you may join me for a bite,” Belle spoke up to whoever stepped by her table, a smile filled with pure radiance, from both her power and the way she was trying to fool everyone into thinking she was doing absolutely fine. She could already see the headline: BELLE DELACROIX, PRINCESS OF THE PEOPLE. 

It was only then she looked up to see who, exactly, she’d invited to her table.

“Alright,” JP said, gazing over at the close bullseye as he stood outside in the archery ring. “... Now you try.” He turned his head as he spoke, looking over to Emilia. “Come on now, Emilia. You know even without Quinn you need to have ways to defend yourself. So let’s improve that shoddy aim, shall we?”

The Prince’s voice and expression were gentle, at least more gentle than how he communicated with others in the castle. But he remained stern and unsmiling for the moment. Affection and praise often had to be earned when it came to JP, no matter how much he cared for his little sister.

Darius inhaled slowly through a joint, breathing in way too much for his lungs to comfortably bear, but if a couple of coughs was all he had to exchange for quick and decent high, then so be it. He tossed a bowl of food and water out in the open and leaned against the wall of the broken down observatory. 

Darius whistled twice, loud and long. Moments after, a small black dog came scurrying out, panting and lapping at his fingers. His face curled in mild disgust while he retracted his fingers out of the dog’s reach. When that only seemed to intensify the puppy’s need to eat his damn hand, Darius took a drag and blew a puff of marijuana into his face.

The dog sneezed, but quickly recuperated and happily trotted over to the open bowls sitting just for him.

“I like you, Flipper.” Darius said casually, eyes closing. “You’re so much better than any other human or Saint.”

Lucian had been holing up inside for the past few days and it was getting to a point where he was itching for social interaction. Yes, it was true, he spent most of his life flaunting his rebellious side in front of eager paparazzi, hungry for a new tabloid about the infamous Lucian Delacroix; or at this point, the infamous Anti-Delacroix. However, it got to a point in any celebrity’s life where having paparazzi infiltrate their life day in and day out with no concept of boundaries got to be exhausting. 

Taking the time to be by himself, drink and play video games with the curtains rolled down was the only time Lucian got a chance to relax. Now, however, he was sitting at the Holy Spirit Bar, ready to engage in cameras and crowds once more. 

It had been years since he had left the Delacroix castle, and with it the hype of having cameras surround him, wanting to know what made him leave. Even now, however, Lucian still found himself side eyeing camera flashes at random points in his nights once people recognized him for what he was. 

But four shots of tequila into the night and Lucian honestly couldn’t care less. He let out a yelp and scrunched his face at the burn of alcohol down his throat, pounding the bar with a fist before laughing. Lucian flipped off a nearby camera and swallowed his shot. Out of excitement, he wheeled around in his chair and pointed at the first person he saw with a large grin.

“Hey. You. You’re taking the next two shots with me and you’re welcome, ‘cause they’re gonna be on me.” 

Freyja was bored. With Maeve nowhere to be found she had decided to explore Athos for herself, and apparently that was how she had arrived within the Gardens although she could hardly find herself impressed with the greenery before her. Ostentatious, and an obscene way to display the Delacroix wealth, she had no interest in the hedge sculptures that appeared in various areas of the garden, especially when it came to being such prominent figures; most likely inviting people to kneel over in awe over the Delacroix family and their might. It was no better than Serpentia, and if truth be told from what she had heard of how they treated her fellow brothers and sisters — the Saints, she was infuriated with what they were subjected to. A haughty sneer upon her lips, she must have looked rather out of place to the individual near her as she finally began to interact with them; hoping that there was at least one decent place within this city that she could discover. “Tell me there’s more to this kingdom than this.” She dramatically stated with a sigh, using a hand to gesture to the sculpture beside her as she asked, “Or at least somewhere I can get batshit drunk.”

Ivy might have promised Royce that she would play nice, but that did not mean that she was vaguely interested in the annual Masquerade Ball at all. He had promised that their bloodthirst would be quenched soon; and she was awaiting for that to happen in the coming days. There was only so much she could take of the patient game, and thus like a predator she stalked her way across the ballroom; a haughty smirk upon her features as she glanced at the way the various individuals milled about, making pointless conversation. Picking up a glass of champagne, her fingertips began to tap impatiently upon the table as she awaited for something or someone or interest to appear.

However as she gazed at the masked figures, she began to feel the feeling of someone watching her as she turned around to raise an eyebrow as she stated, “Now tell me, what does one have to do to make things more interesting around here?”