The Academy For Mythical Creatures

message 1: by the_rabid_snail (last edited Sep 19, 2024 04:59PM) (new)

Nov 23, 2022 04:56PM

Completed Characters

Angelo Benjamin Hawkley - 17, junior, werewolf
Ash Brighid Winchester - 16, sophomore, seraphim
Djordje Javor Jovanovic - 17, junior, each uisge
Eilonwy Whitefang - 14, freshman, half dark elf
Rhoswen Amoret Bluemarsh - 1,746, dance instructor, fylgja

Characters in Progress

Aneirin Llywelyn Vaughan - 16, junior, ci annwn

Relationships

Angelo
Best friend: Open
Friends: Open
Enemies: Open
Crush: Open

Ash
Best friend: Open
Friends: Open
Enemies: Open
Crush: Open

Javor
Best friend: Open
Friends: Open
Enemies: Open
Crush: Open

Ellie
Best friend: Open
Friends: Open
Enemies: Open
Crush: Open

Rhoswen
Best friend: Open
Friends: Open
Enemies: Open
Crush: Open

If you have characters that you would like to fill any of these roles, please shoot me a pm or give me a shout in the relationship requests thread (I check posts there fairly regularly).

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message 2: by the_rabid_snail (new)

Nov 23, 2022 04:59PM

Ash B. Winchester - Part One
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message 3: by the_rabid_snail (new)

Nov 23, 2022 05:00PM

Ash B. Winchester - Part Two
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History cont'd: She liked being around the horses and other animals in the barn. She often played with the lambs in the sheep pen or with the sheepdog, Bernard, in her free time, and she liked to comfort the sheep when the farmhands sheared their wool in the summertime. She often played with the lambs in the sheep pen or with the sheepdog, Bernard, in her free time, and she liked to comfort the sheep when the farmhands sheared their wool in the summertime. Her presence always calmed the farm animals. There were also a few cats who hung around the barn, and she named all of them and learned how to sew little toys for them to play with.
A few times a year, tornadoes formed in their area, and they would all have to hide in the cellar built right underneath the house. The tornadoes didn’t usually touch down near the farm, but it did happen more than once, killing most of the crops. Once Ash got a handle on her healing powers, however, she was able to mend most of the plants, saving the farm from financial disaster.
Ash was hardly ever allowed to leave the farm and go to the nearest town to sell crops and cattle as her parents worried that she would be exposed as a half-angel. She wasn’t able to keep her wings hidden for long periods of time until she was much older, and she didn’t have a good handle on her magic. Besides that, her father was well known throughout this rural part of the country, and she looked a lot like him. Hoping that no one would make the connection was too great a risk. The punishment for a half breed like Ash was death. Her father’s god had no tolerance for illegitimate children, especially those with mortal blood.
Even though she longed to see what the outside world was like, there were enough things to do on the farm that kept her mind and body busy. One summer night when she was laying in the loft as usual, she heard one of the horses snorting and moving around restlessly below. She peered over the edge and saw that one of their pregnant mares was making all the noise, acting as if she was in labor. Ash frowned as she climbed down the ladder. The mare, Apolline, wasn’t due for another several weeks. Gently she felt the horse’s muscles, being as slow and careful as possible so that the agitated mare wouldn’t lash out at her. Ash knew by now the physical signs of labor in farm animals, but she was also connected to them in a strange way. Both her instincts and observations agreed that Apolline was having her foal tonight despite being very early. Ash was about to run to the main house to get help, but then the mare lay down. Ash realized that Apolline was foaling right now, and she didn’t have time to get anyone else. So, she unlatched the stall door and sat next to the horse, talking gently to her. She knew the mare couldn’t understand what she was saying, but Apolline could understand tone. Just as the front legs of the foal emerged, one of the farmhands ran into the barn, having been walking by the barn and hearing Apolline’s distress. Together, Ash and the farmhand watched in awe as the head of the foal arrived followed by its neck, back, and hind legs. The foal was surprisingly small and snuggled up to its mother after Ash and the farmhand identified it as a female. Both Ash and the farmhand stayed the night with the mother and foal, falling asleep in the hay. When they woke up early the next morning to the rooster’s crowing, the foal was curled up, shivering. Ash draped a blanket over it, and that seemed to help.
She got out of most of her chores that day, since she volunteered to keep an eye on the newborn and its mother. However, most of the day the foal didn’t even attempt to walk, which was worrisome. Foals normally began walking within hours after being born. Ash didn’t know what was wrong with foal; she just knew that something was terribly wrong with it. Her mother and the farmhands agreed with her when they came to check on the foal. Ash’s mother really didn’t want to call a veterinarian up to the farm, so she decided they would wait until morning and talk about getting the foal help.
Ash slept with Apolline and her foal again that night, reading them both stories from her favorite storybooks. She had even drawn some of her own pictures in it to go along with the stories. As she was reading the fairytale about the princess and the eleven swans, something clicked in her head. She put the book down and rubbed the foal, closing her eyes. She couldn’t describe what was wrong or how she fixed it. She just felt it. She hadn’t really healed anything of this size before; usually she just mended plants or small birds, but she knew the foal would be alright now.
The next morning when she woke up, the foal was walking around on wobbly legs and licking Ash’s face. When her mother and the farmhands arrived, they were relieved to see that the foal was out of the woods. Ash tried explaining how she had healed the foal, but it was difficult since she didn’t really know what she had fixed. She just sensed something wrong and set it right.
From then on, the foal was her constant companion once it was weaned from its mother. She named it Ember for its glossy, black coat, and once it was old enough, she would ride bareback, the two galloping through the fields. Her mother had a hard time getting her to do her chores around the farm after that, but she did appreciate that Ash had a companion besides her and the farmhands. She tried her best to make a good life for Ash, but she knew that her daughter seemed to want to leave the farm more and more every day. She would do anything to keep her daughter safe, even if it meant Ash could never leave.
As Ash entered her teenage years, she became more distant from her mother and even the farmhands she’d grown up with. A longing to be free churned the bitterness and resentment that had long been festering in the pit of her stomach. Now that she had gained better control over her wings, she often flew high above the clouds to be alone with her thoughts or just overhead of the farm animals, especially the horses. She liked to race Ember when she was supposed to be out doing her chores, pushing her strong wings to the very limit. Usually she won but not without a struggle; Ember was a devilishly fast mare with a determined spirit.
Still, even though Ember was her closest friend, she longed to go out into the world, to meet new people, to see new things, and to do things for herself. She argued about leaving the farm constantly with her mother almost every single chance she got. The rare times her father visited were generally unhappy; she badgered him as much as she could about letting her just ride to town with one of the farmhands the next time they had business in town, but her father wouldn’t allow it. They’d end up having shouting matches every time he visited.
Eventually, she got so fed up with all the rules that she took off and flew to the nearest town herself. She landed about a mile away from the town, shifted into her human form, and walked the rest of the way. When she entered the town, a festival was going on. A parade was in the street, confetti and candy were sprinkled everywhere, triumphant music filled every corner with jubilant notes, and people crowded the streets, the adults taking pictures while the children tried to gather as much candy as possible. Ash loved it. She liked having open fields and skies, but they got terribly lonely. Here, with all the people and energy, she felt much more at ease.
She set out to explore the town, stopping only once to join in the festival dances. After a little practice, she thought she’d gotten the hang of it. Since she didn’t have any money, she just window-shopped. She especially liked the dress shops with all their patterns and silk ribbons and intricate jewelry. She even tried on a few necklaces and rings, wishing she had money to buy them.
Ash was so exhilarated and enthralled by everything, especially the fireworks once it got dark… until she realized her mother would be worried to death about her, since she had just taken off without telling anyone. She slipped out of the town and, while everyone was captivated by the firecrackers, leapt into the air with the aid of her white wings. She flew as fast as she could, draining herself until finally she tumbled down into one of the fields. There was no time to dust herself off; even though she was utterly exhausted, she sprinted towards the main house. Her mother was pacing back and forth on the porch, not noticing Ash until she was climbing up the steps to the wraparound porch. When her mother found out where she had been, she lectured Ash for a good thirty minutes before falling silent and retreating to her bedroom. Ash could hear her mother crying softly on the other side of the door and decided to sleep in the loft of the barn, feeling like an intruder in her own house.
The mood of the next several days was solemn and gray. Ash actually did her chores on time, waiting to play with Ember until after all the work had been done. Her mother would hardly speak to her unless it was related to the farm work, and Ash tried as hard as she could to make things easier for her mother. She even got up earlier than usual to make breakfast for her mother and all the farmhands and insisted on cleaning the kitchen herself. Until that night, she had never seen or heard her mother cry, and it was a sound she never wanted to hear again. No matter how angry she got at her mother for never letting her leave, she couldn’t bear to see her mother hurt like that.
Gradually, Ash and her mother began to speak to each other again, but just as that was starting to happen, her father dropped in for a surprise visit, the expression on his face a mix of anger and regret. Someone had recognized Ash as a half-angel, and it had gotten back to the deity Athanasius served. A long argument ensued, and in the end, they decided that Ash and her mother had to move somewhere else. Athanasius promised to be back the next day to help them, but before he could return, a host of angels arrived at the farm, setting fire to everything. Ash’s mother was unable to make it out of the house alive, and all the farmhands were slaughtered at the hands of the angels. Just when Ash thought it was all over for her, Athanasius appeared, taking on the angels to allow his daughter to escape. He never made it out of the farm alive.
Ash fled the farm, flying high above the clouds to avoid detection by any of the humans below. Living on her own was rough, but growing up on a farm had prepared her for survival. She mostly lived in secluded places: a thick forest, an abandoned “haunted” house, ghost towns, etc. She lived in almost complete solitude, reliving her parents’ deaths and how she had caused them over and over again like a movie in her head that looped on and on and on into infinity. During this time, she lost her curious and spunky spirit, dragging her wings from one place to another. Sure, she finally got to see the world, but it didn’t seem so bright without her family, including her parents, the farmhands, and the animals, especially Ember. Ember had burned to death when the barn was set on fire while Ash had been trying to get her mother out of the burning main house. She hadn’t been able to save a single person that night, and she despised herself for it.
Eventually it got to the point where Ash could barely function. She had just given up and was wasting away in a ghost town. She hardly ate, rarely went outside, and almost never did anything but lounge around, drinking old whiskey in the abandoned saloon she’d been staying in. But as it turned out, fate had something different in mind for her.
One day, what looked like a caravan came through the ghost town. Ash didn’t even make any attempt to see what was happening; she didn’t have the interest to investigate in the least.
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message 4: by the_rabid_snail (new)

Nov 23, 2022 05:02PM

Ash B. Winchester - Part Three
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History cont'd: A couple of the people, presumably from the caravan, came into the saloon with jovial expressions and playful banter, but when they saw her, one of them nodded at the others. They approached Ash, who was scooting warily away from them until they cornered her against the wall. They tied her up and dragged her outside where the rest of the caravan was waiting. They were strangely dressed, and some of them had swords strapped to their belts. Others had revolvers, and some carried no visible weapons. But what struck Ash the most was that they all had wings. The majority had darker wings, but there were still several with white wings like hers. She was shoved into a car, and someone slammed the door shut behind her. She was so disoriented that she didn’t realize there was someone else in the vehicle with her: A dark-winged angel, who looked only a few years older than her. The girl apologized for the way the other angels treated her and untied her hands. She introduced herself as Nirvana Winchester, Ash’s half-sister. She told Ash that she was Athanasius’s older daughter, and that all the angels in the caravan were half angel and half human. The ones with the dark wings were ones born from a fallen angel or ones whose wings had turned dark. Ash wanted to ask her half-sister why her wings were dark, but Nirvana seemed like she didn’t want to talk about it. Nirvana invited her to join the caravan, and Ash accepted. The idea of traveling with other people exhilarated her, bringing back some of the spirit she’d lost. Traveling was nice and all, but the ‘with other people’ part was what excited her the most, especially the prospect of getting to know her half-sister.
Ash learned how to fit in well with the caravan. They taught her all kinds of useful skills, like how to defend herself, how to sneak around without being seen, and how to persuade people, among other things. Some of the more experienced angels taught her how to use a sword, which she enjoyed more than shooting a revolver, though she had developed into a pretty good shot. The angels traipsed all across the world, punishing murderers, thieves, and all kinds of evildoers. They also conned people to pay for gas and food and the like. Ash became one of the best with her empathic abilities (when they worked); the other angels had tried to help her master her powers, but the unreliability of her empathic abilities and her random visions of the future never got better. She’d still pass out for no reason, but she at least had gotten better at interpreting the visions.
Ash thought she had found a family with the other angels, but she was wrong. Nirvana made an offhand comment one day without thinking, and after much arguing, Ash found out that Nirvana was the one who had informed Athanasius’s father of her existence. She also found out that the angels in the caravan were bounty hunters, and the people they harmed weren’t always bad people. They were just targets of other, more powerful people. Ash left the caravan in the middle of the night, heartbroken at her half-sister’s betrayal. Unsure where to go next, she recalled a conversation between her parents she had overheard. Her father had wanted to send her to an academy, but her mother was adamantly against it, thinking Ash would be safer with her. Well, Ash knew that hadn’t turned out to be entirely true, and since her last effort at surviving on her own had ended horribly, she decided to find this academy for mythical creatures and attend. Her father had sacrificed his own life for her, so she could at least honor one of his known wishes. She made her way to the school and enrolled, and she is now starting her first year there.

Other:
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message 5: by the_rabid_snail (new)

Nov 23, 2022 05:05PM

Eilonwy Whitefang - Part One
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Nov 23, 2022 05:05PM

Eilonwy Whitefang - Part Two
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Nov 23, 2022 05:07PM

Eilonwy Whitefang - Part Three
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History cont'd: The handsome yellow tabby that ruled over the barn was named Rowan, and the slender, gray cat that was nearly always within a few feet of him was Isley. Alastair, the prissy black and white tuxedo cat, appeared every now and then whenever he deigned to let Karel or Ellie stroke his fur. Siblings Pumpkin, Cranberry, and Ginger were the youngest and consequently the most playful and fun. Pumpkin was more orange than Rowan and had a white chest and paws, and he liked to hide behind small piles of straw waiting for Rowan to walk by in order to pounce on him. Cranberry and Ginger preferred to spend their time sunbathing their orange and white coats or pestering Alastair when he made his random appearances. Sometimes they followed Isley around until she got annoyed with them and chased them away. But whenever Karel was near, the barn cats would run to him and compete for his attention, even Alastair sometimes. Ellie was envious of his connection to animals, but he was always happy to share and would never exclude anyone who wanted to play with the barn cats.
Flora and Loreta were Ellie’s most constant companions since they were the closest girl cousins to her age. Loreta was barely a year younger than her, and Flora was only a few years older than her. The three of them had the most delightful time growing up, and they planned elaborate, pretend tea parties and make-believe balls in imaginary castles. Helga was always the queen, of course, and Flora, Ellie, and Loreta pretended like they were princesses. Sometimes they badgered Pip into playing the king, but he didn’t have much patience to go along with things nicely for very long. Sooner or later, their elegant, proper tea parties were invaded by pirates or evil knights or something or other like that.
Flora could be a bit of a gossip sometimes. Ellie never minded much, and normally she found her cousin to be very funny. She knew Flora would never be truly mean to anyone on purpose, so as long as the topics were harmless, like their neighbor Kalinda’s horrid fashion sense, she was content enough to talk about whatever. Loreta felt mostly the same way, but Helga was always around to put an end to any conversations that started to stray in an unbecoming direction. Ellie’s mother would say that any gossip no matter how harmless was always unbecoming, but sometimes Ellie just needed to get things off her mind or off her chest. Flora and Loreta understood that.
Ellie’s powers did not manifest themselves until she became a teenager. After her thirteenth birthday, she noticed her mood swings were not as her mother and aunts had described. They were more random and potent, and weirdly, others around her seemed to be strongly affected by her moods sometimes even when there was no possible way they could know how she was feeling. She recalled Helga and Flora being thirteen, and nothing like this had happened to them. Once, she gave Karel a hug to comfort him, and he nearly fell asleep in her arms. Another time, Pip had aggravated Matthijs until he lost it, but when Ellie entered the room after romping through the fields with Sion and Baer, Matthijs’s rigid posture suddenly relaxed. His hands stopped twitching, and for once, he left things peacefully instead of trying to start a physical fight with Pip. That was when the rest of the family finally acknowledged that something strange was happening.
As time went by, Ellie found that the skin on her fingertips began to darken until it looked like parts of her were permanently stained by ash. The unprecedented changes in her appearance and the inexplicable effects her emotions were having on others, led the family to believe that she was part but not full dark elf. As hard as it was, her parents decided she needed to go to a place that could help her learn to control her abilities, hopefully before she accidentally hurt someone else. By chance, they heard of MC Academy and sent her to attend the school. Ellie was torn over the decision. It sounded exciting and new, and she was thrilled to get to experience something outside her normal, daily life. But she was also saddened to leave her family and pets behind. It would be difficult knowing that she didn’t have Rowan and Pumpkin to play with nor Sulien and Eirian to ride whenever she wanted nor Lwsi to talk to when she felt sad nor Sion and Baer and Raymond to run around with when she wanted to be giddy with glee. Her parents comforted her with the knowledge that this would only be until she could control her magic. Once she had an adequate handle on things, her parents would let her return home.

Other:
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message 8: by the_rabid_snail (last edited Nov 23, 2022 05:08PM) (new)

Nov 23, 2022 05:08PM

Rhoswen A. Bluemarsh - Part One
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message 9: by the_rabid_snail (last edited Feb 07, 2023 01:31PM) (new)

Nov 23, 2022 05:09PM

Rhoswen A. Bluemarsh - Part Two
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message 10: by the_rabid_snail (new)

Nov 23, 2022 05:10PM

Rhoswen A. Bluemarsh - Part Three
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History cont'd: Celeste was always present but always somewhere distant at the same time, and there where no words Rhoswen could find to describe how well suited her sister was for this world and also how horribly wrong for it she was all at once.
Of all the sisters, Celeste had the most to teach her, but they only had so much time together before Rhoswen would have to move on to the last sister. The entire time Rhoswen spent with Celeste was so nearly like a dream that some days she found herself wishing she would never wake up. Her sister’s presence was not brunt or forceful like Adella’s; it was soft and gentle and silent, but it was all-embracing and deafening in the power of its silence. Her lack of presence was somehow the most awe-inspiring and powerful presence Rhoswen had ever felt. Of all her mentors, Rhoswen wanted most to be like Celeste, the girl who walked on the earth and touched the stars all at once.
Celeste’s lessons were little to do with magic, but Rhoswen enjoyed them all the same. She learned how important it was to learn the culture and history of the lands her charges would inhabit as that would determine how best she would guard them. Her sister taught her how to be aware of people’s emotional and spiritual needs and how to nudge them in the right direction. Celeste believed that people were primarily spiritual beings and that any form of guardianship and care that neglected this spiritual aspect would always remain incomplete and ineffectual. She theorized that not having a guardian was far better than having one that ignored the spiritual aspects of life. As Rhoswen followed her sister in her duties, she could see how perfectly Celeste had melded their parents’ varying schools of thought on what it meant to be fylgja. There was no way she could put it into words or even understand it, but somehow her sister had struck the perfect balance between protecting her charges when it truly mattered and letting them decide for themselves when it was most important for them to do so. Eventually she wondered why Celeste remained on the fringes of what passed for fylgjar society since Adella, who was exceptionally powerful in her own right, was more renowned and respected than Celeste, who was the most powerful of the two. As if Celeste could read her thoughts, a smile that made the stars gleam brighter graced her lips, and she told Rhoswen that she wanted no fame, respect, nor recognition. This was how she worked best, all on her own where she could be the bridge between the heavens and the earth. Anything more would be distraction, and she could not abide by distractions when her work was so important. The only exceptions she made were training other fylgjar every so often, but even then, she didn’t feel that she was an adequate teacher. Rhoswen was quick to assure her that she was the best teacher she’d ever had, but Celeste was not so easily swayed. It was as if she knew how rare and unexplainable and impossible she was. A stroke of luck had made her born fylgjar, but it had also sentenced her to an eternity of solitude enforced by how little anyone – fae or not – could ever understand her. Rhoswen had not begged to stay with her mother nor her father nor Adella, but she would do anything to be permitted more time with Celeste. However, her sister knew when to accept the inevitable, and she sent Rhoswen on her final journey to visit their last sister despite Rhoswen’s sorrow at having to leave.
Tearfully, Rhoswen traveled to see her third oldest sister, Auron. The most cheerful and energetic fylgja she had met so far, Auron was like a golden fountain of laughter and vitality. Even the plant life around her sister seemed to brighten and grow healthier, and Rhoswen felt a much closer connection to Auron than she had to either of her other sisters. She and Auron shared a love of excitement, joy, and playfulness. They both felt as if the wide world was awaiting them, ready to fulfill their dreams and help them accomplish their goals. Since Auron was only a few hundred years old, it made sense that they would have more in common and feel closer than they would with Adella or Celeste, both of whom were close to a thousand years of age already.
Auron’s task was to teach Rhoswen of dreams. Together, they pushed the bounds of what they thought possible, and they discovered a whole world, a web of interwoven dreams where time and space became irrelevant concepts. Rhoswen could have lost herself there forever, but always, in the back of her mind, she was looking for an inkling of the beauty Celeste cherished. Sometimes, she thought she found a speck of it, but it would slip from her fingers as quickly as she realized what she was holding. Auron held no such desire, and Rhoswen could see that her sister was confident in her own abilities and didn’t want to compare herself to others. However, Rhoswen could not forget Celeste’s radiance, and she wanted so desperately to be as good and skilled a guardian as her sister. Auron thought it wasn’t good for her to try so hard to emulate a clearly impossible standard, and she tried her hardest to encourage her sister to think to her own strengths and to how she wanted to fulfill her duties in her own way. After a time, Rhoswen came to accept that it was better for her to focus on her own future, and when Auron could teach her no more, she departed from a sister for the last time. Her next journey would be completed as a guardian in her own right.
In the beginning, Rhoswen was very anxious. She second and triple-guessed herself often in her duties, not wanting to lead some poor and unsuspecting mortal astray accidentally. But her caution did not go unrewarded, and she was able to adequately protect her charges as well as help them live fulfilling lives. At first, she was probably too far-removed from those she was guarding as she was scared of becoming too involved and making mistakes, but as she grew accustomed to guardianship, she felt comfortable enough to take a more decisive hand in things, though she took care not to over-involve herself. She could tell the number of years that passed by watching the changes in her charges, but time seemed such a hazy concept to her still. Logically, she knew time was always moving on and on, but it was as if she was shrouded from it by a veil, watching it all but not affected by it. At some point, she learned how to reach Auron through dreams, and the two sisters kept up a sort of regular correspondence whenever their duties allowed for it.
From the sidelines, Rhoswen watched time sweep by. She guided charge after charge to the afterlife when their times on this earth were up, but something pestered her, though she couldn’t think what it was. One of her charges was a boy named Celyn, and she watched as he grew from inquisitive child to steadfast man. Of all her charges so far, Celyn was the most considerate of her. Her parents and sisters had told her that some charges would mostly ignore her except in troubled times and others would be mindful of her and try to cause as little trouble as possible, but a smaller percentage of her charges would be impressively loyal to her. Celyn was the first charge she’d had who was exceptionally loyal, and he would often leave her gifts and offerings in the forest outside his cabin, sometimes as penance for getting into trouble and sometimes as thankfulness for her protection or advice. Rhoswen visited his dreams most nights, even if she didn’t always reveal herself to him, and she frequently roamed his patch of forest in the shapes of bears or deer. Whenever he happened upon her in the forest, he always seemed to instinctively recognize her, for he would bow low in respect and would leave behind some token of gratitude for her. As a fylgja, Rhoswen didn’t have the same dietary requirements as mortals, but she was always gladdened when he left her the best pieces of smoked venison or ham in exchange for keeping his family’s storehouses full all the winter long.
One morning, she was walking through the woods in the form of a slender doe when she became aware of a bear nearby who had caught her scent. Of course, it didn’t matter if the bear came to investigate since she could not be killed by such means, but Celyn, who didn’t know that, was in the area and saw the bear heading her way. He followed it stealthily, and when it appeared that the bear would strike her, he killed it with an arrow through the heart. Rhoswen was so touched by his concern for her safety that she shed her doe form and appeared before him as a fylgja. In awe of her, he knelt, but she held his hands and raised him up, bestowing a blessing of protection upon him since he had so valiantly protected her. Few words passed between them, but Rhoswen felt an undeniable connection between them. For a time, she tried to ignore it, but eventually, she could not suppress her feelings any longer. It was unorthodox, she knew, for any fylgja to spend so much time with their charge, but her parents and all her sisters had formed their own versions of guardianship. Why shouldn’t this be her own way of doing what she had been created to accomplish? So she gave in, and she appeared more and more to Celyn, usually in a more human form than a fylgjar one.
They became close friends over time, and Rhoswen was by his side when he hunted, set traps, and tended the fields. She sometimes sat at supper with him to keep him company when he asked, and she had never known a happier time in her life, it seemed. Their outings in the forest were by far her favorites, and she loved bounding through the trees with Celyn in pursuit of her or sitting peacefully underneath a tree next to the banks of the river whiling away the time talking or silently watching the forest life around them. Sometimes she assumed the shape of a hound or a hawk to help with the hunting, and Celyn would affectionately ruffle her fur or stroke her feathered head at the end of the day depending on which form she took. Over time, Rhoswen was astonished to realize her feelings for him ran much deeper than a guardian’s; she was in love with Celyn. For a while, she tried to stay away, but Celyn believed he had offended her somehow and prayed more earnestly and left more offerings than ever before. It became clear to Rhoswen that keeping her distance was not a viable solution, and moreover, she didn’t want to be apart from him. So, she returned, and when she appeared on Celyn’s porch as if all was well, he wrapped her up in his arms and kissed her. Blushing fiercely, she couldn’t help but look down at her feet, but he swept her up in his arms and carried her inside. When he asked where she had been lately, she could only be honest and explain that she had been afraid of her feelings. Celyn was thrilled that she reciprocated his love for her, and they spent the next few years together as if Rhoswen was a mortal woman who could rightfully claim a place as his wife, even though she had no right to that role at all.
Celyn’s health began to fail him after a few years. Rhoswen heaped blessing upon blessing of healing and protection on him, but each blessing seemed only to make him sicker. When it dawned on her that she was the reason he was dying, she had no words to express her heartbreak. It was as if someone had stolen the very breath from her lungs and the words from her mouth. Everything was upside down and muddled, and panic overtook her. How could this be so? She loved Celyn so much more than she thought it possible to love anyone, but her love was killing him. Love was pure and good and beautiful, so why was something so divine responsible for this horrible tragedy? Why did it matter if she was fylgja and impossibly more powerful than him? Wasn’t their love enough to overcome this frightful obstacle? But evidently, it was not to be so.
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message 11: by the_rabid_snail (new)

Nov 23, 2022 05:10PM

Rhoswen A. Bluemarsh - Part Four
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History cont'd: She knew she should retreat and leave Celyn, but she was too weak. Besides, he didn’t want her to leave, and he refused to accept that she was what was killing him. So she watched him die, and she carried his soul to the afterlife and said goodbye for the final time.
From then on, she vowed never to make the same mistake. Never again would she shatter the laws of nature in such a selfish, twisted way. What would her parents and sisters think if they knew the grave sin she had committed? She decided never to tell anyone what had happened between her and Celyn, and so she continued on in her duties, faithfully guarding each charge given to her. Over time, her wounds began to heal, and the work provided a blessed distraction from her grief. But in the end, she thought there would always be a small hole in her heart where Celyn should have been. She focused her efforts on learning to tap into the beauty and elegance that Celeste had in excess, and though she would never rival her sister in grace, she became better than Auron and even Adella in this aspect. With her sins consigned to the past, Rhoswen grew into a formidable guardian in her own right, channeling her aching heart to grow her wisdom and grace. In time, she achieved a delicate peace within herself, and she owed the thanks largely to chance encounters with Celeste. She ran into her sister a few times after Celyn passed away, and her sister’s overwhelming aura of peace and mystery soothed her hurt and mended her heart. If Celeste knew what had happened, she never let on, but then, that was the kind of person she was. Celeste was the embodiment of wisdom, and she would never say things that did not need to be said. Rhoswen’s spirits were lifted simply by letting the dreamlike aura that belonged only to her sister envelop her and carry her along, and as only she could do, Celeste held her sister’s feet firmly to the ground but let her reach for the stars in hope.
Rhoswen thought she was becoming happy again as she guarded charge after charge, and her world started to brighten once more. When one of her charges traveled to MC Academy, Rhoswen followed along and eventually applied for a teaching position at the school as a dance instructor. The original charge who brought her to the academy is since gone, but she has other charges at the academy which is why she’s still around.

Other: Detests the Cechetti Method with every fiber of her being.
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message 12: by the_rabid_snail (new)

Feb 02, 2023 11:56AM

Djordje J. Jovanovic - Part One
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message 13: by the_rabid_snail (new)

Feb 02, 2023 11:57AM

Djordje J. Jovanovic - Part Two
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Same warning as the post above also applies here. Read at your own risk.

History cont'd: One day, her older sister, Tereza, followed her when she snuck off to meet Alasdair, and on her way back home, her sister confronted her. Jagoda refused to listen to a word that Tereza said. Her sister accused Alasdair of seducing other women and in some cases, murdering them. Tereza reminded Jagoda of Casna, one of their neighbors who had gone missing a few years ago and how everyone thought it was related to her mysterious pregnancy, but Jagoda would have none of it.
Jagoda had been feeling unwell for several weeks when, all of a sudden, it hit her: she was pregnant. She barely had time to think how she would explain this to her family when Tereza’s words echoed in her mind. Casna, a delicate, raven-haired girl of barely eighteen years old, had always been flighty and unreliable, so at first no one had thought anything of her unusual behavior when she disappeared for hours at a time or wrote letters she tried to keep secret. But, only two days after she confided in her best friend, Nevena, that she was pregnant, she disappeared without a trace. Nevena confessed what she knew, but even she did not know who Casna’s mysterious beau was. All of a sudden, she recalled things Alasdair had mentioned in passing; he loved dark hair, he never been serious about anyone before her, he liked adventures and wanted to find a girl who would accompany him, he didn’t want children, and the list went on. By themselves, none of those statements meant much, but together, they painted a frightening picture. Jagoda had no concrete proof that Alasdair was behind the strange disappearances of girls in her city, but somehow, she knew deep down that he was, at the very least, involved. Casna had disappeared almost immediately after she revealed her pregnancy. Had she told her unidentified suitor? Had he responded by abducting her or even killing her? Jagoda didn’t want to take that chance, so she went to her sister and begged for her help. Tereza promised she would never tell a soul what had happened, and she arranged for her sister to leave the city in the middle of the night. Jagoda fled her home and all she had ever known, and once Javor was born, she kept them on the move for most of his upbringing.
Except for continually having to move every couple of years, Javor had a mostly uneventful childhood. He loved his mother and did his best to follow her rules. However, he was also born with a strong, mischievous streak, so try as he might, he wasn’t always able to resist the temptation to cause trouble. Although he mostly turned in his work on time and studied enough to pass his classes, he usually got to know the principal’s office and the detention room rather well in every school he attended for either playing a prank or being a disruption in class. He didn’t enjoy group projects or team sports or clubs. He did have friends, and he was by no means a loner. But when it came to studying or any kind of performance, he preferred not to be distracted by others and had a strong dislike for compromises. He was usually sure he knew the best way how to do things, and he had little patience for explaining or arguing his reasoning. He also had a competitive streak, which might have made him an ideal candidate for sports if he didn’t become so blinded by achieving his goals that he neglected to follow the rules.
Javor’s powers appeared when he was young. One night he awoke in a cold sweat from a nightmare and found that his room had shrunk in his sleep. Upon glancing in the mirror, he realized it was he who had grown larger, not his room that had decreased. The low ceiling of his room could not accommodate his horse form’s height very well, but luckily his doorframe was just wide enough for him to squeeze through. Once he got over the initial shock, he had a blast racing through the chilly night air, testing the limits of what he could do. The equine power he now possessed was intoxicating, and he quickly grew to love his ability to shapeshift. He made sure to cover his tracks and to only go out when his mother was asleep because he didn’t fully understand his abilities and didn’t want her to worry about him. Besides, there was something exhilarating about figuring things out on his own and having something special and secret of his very own. He and his mother had never owned much as they were constantly moving, but this was something he could always take with him wherever they went.
About a year after he discovered his shapeshifting abilities, he was cantering along a stream under the moonlight when five, sleek horses raced past him. Falling prey to their contagious mirth, he turned around and joined in, trying his best to keep up. He wanted to prove he was faster than all of them, but he was unable to pass the bewitching, silver mare who led the rest of her equine entourage. When he thought his legs would give out underneath him, the horses finally halted near a still lake, and to his surprise, all five of them turned into humans. The first four were teenage boys. Javor was struck by the disconcerting, silver and ice blue eyes of the eldest boy, but under the boy’s sharp gaze, he felt as if those strange eyes were dissecting his very soul. He assumed his normal, human form, and he could have sworn that he saw a flash of satisfaction and triumph in the boy’s eyes, as if this boy knew what he truly was. The boy introduced himself, rather smugly, as Aegaeon, and Javor couldn’t help but feel that he was supposed to recognize the name, though he knew he had never heard it before. The other three boys gave their names as Einar, Caspian, and Gawain in a much friendlier manner, and Javor shook hands politely with each of them. The last horse, the silver mare, had shifted into the form of a teenage girl with rippling, silvery hair, and when she stepped forward to inspect Javor, the four boys stepped back slightly to give her space. Clearly she was the one in charge. She didn’t extend her hand to Javor like the boys had, but she told him her name was Sereia, though apparently almost everyone called her Sera for short. Although Javor thought nothing could further surprise him, he was shocked when Sereia announced that he must be a cousin of her and her brothers. According to her, he must be related to them somehow if he had been able to keep up with them for so long, for she and her brothers were descended from the most powerful of the each uisge, the de facto king, Chernomor Halloran. Of course, Sereia was required to launch into an explanation of the each uisge and their family since Javor didn’t know there was a name for what he was. She and her brother, Aegaeon, told him that there was little structure the each uisge adhered to, but they did respect power. Since their father, Chernomor, was the most powerful among them, he was viewed as their leader or king automatically. Chernomor’s younger brother, Alasdair, was likely the second-most powerful of the each uisge and was infamous for being a bit of a rogue, so Javor must be his son. Javor had never known his father or heard his mother say much about him, so for all he knew, these, other each uisge were telling the truth. They let him tag along while they walked along the shores and waded in the lake, playing games and having a merry, old time, and by the end of the evening, Javor had decided he liked them, even if they had appeared a little stuck-up at first. Perhaps they were like that since they might technically be considered royalty.
When he returned home, it was early in the morning, and his mother was waiting for him inside the doorway. He was forced to tell her everything about his newfound powers, but he omitted his meeting with his cousins for the time being, wanting to ask his mother about his father instead. His mother confirmed that his father was Alasdair Halloran, a powerful being known as an each uisge, and Javor was excited that Sereia and her brothers had been telling the truth. It meant that he could trust and befriend them, and after having thought he was all alone in the world, it was a relief to know there were others out there like him who could help him understand his abilities.
His midnight rides with his cousins were what he looked forward to above all else. His competitive and mischievous nature sparked to life around Sera and her brothers, who were all just as clever as he was, if not more so in some cases. Although he never could outrace Sera and Aegaeon when they galloped through the forests or by the sea as horses, he did become exceptionally swift after some practice and could keep up with the other boys easily enough. Sereia helped him to master his transformational powers, and he was able to shapeshift into a variety of water birds under her instruction. She was a harsh teacher at times and had little patience for carelessness, but Javor was determined to impress her with his magics. In his limited experience, Sereia was the most powerful being he had met, and he would work as long and as hard as it took to surpass her. She also taught him how to control water, though her brothers warned him against expecting to best her in this area. Of all their kind, Sereia was second only to Chernomor in her water magic, and even her emotions influenced the behaviors of the ocean without her having to spare the waters a thought. Still, Javor was not going to accept defeat complacently, so he pushed himself as far as he thought possible. Sereia strained his abilities even further than that, expecting nothing less than perfection from him. In some instances when she would lecture him or snap at him for a failure, he could readily see why others were threatened by her, and it took him a little time to realize she was only fun-loving and silly around select individuals, which made him feel honored that she had decided he was worthy of her trust. The distinction between teacher and friend was easy for Sera. During their training, she was strict and cold, not caring how hard anything was for Javor and only caring that he succeeded in mastering his powers. The bottom line was all that mattered to her, and after hearing many comments made in passing by his cousins over time, he gathered that they had all received similar training at the hands of their father. When they weren’t training, Sera’s stern demeanor melted into an easier, carefree, adventurous manner, and she seemed to entirely forget about what occurred during his training exercises, only focused on games and fun.
With some input from Sereia, his cousins Aegaeon, Einar, Caspian, Gawain, and Sulwyn showed him how to use his each uisge abilities. It was like nothing Javor had ever experienced before, and he felt as though he’d been walking with a blindfold on all this time, never knowing what it truly meant to be each uisge. He could see how addicting this power could quickly become, but he was an each uisge, was he not? By nature, his kind were predatory, and who was he to defy the laws of nature? Aegaeon, Einar, and Gawain were of a similar mind, and Javor often accompanied them on their missions to fulfill their true natures under the light of the watchful moon. Sereia said terrorizing mortals was a waste of time that they could have spent doing something more fun together since humans were weak beings, after all. She thought if they were going to play with the lives of other people, they ought to choose people who would pose more of a challenge, but Aegaeon was convinced that she was acting in an overly feminine and sensitive way, which earned him a slap on the head when Sereia overheard him.
One afternoon, when Javor was on holiday from school, Sereia and Caspian asked him if he would like to visit their home. Enthusiastically, Javor said yes.
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message 14: by the_rabid_snail (new)

Feb 02, 2023 11:58AM

Djordje J. Jovanovic - Part Three
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History cont'd: He had heard his cousins mention their underwater palace and had always tried to imagine what it must look like. Caspian handed Javor a turquoise talisman that had been etched with waves and swirls representing water, and as instructed, Javor tied the cord it was knotted to around his neck. As the enchanter of the family, Caspian had imbued the stone to grant its wearer inhuman speed and endurance underwater, and he told Javor that he could keep the stone as long as he wished. It wouldn’t work on any other wearer as he had sealed it with blood magic, but Javor had no intention of giving something so powerful away.
Javor and his cousins galloped towards the ocean as swiftly as if they were the wind themselves, and when they reached the blue waters, they charged headfirst into the waves. When they were deep enough in, Sereia changed forms from mare to mermaid, and her brothers followed suit. Javor was surprised to find that the talisman allowed him to take on a form similar to theirs, but when he caught sight of his cousins’ mischievous smirks, he realized it had been meant as a surprise. Sereia swam hard towards their home, and even with the blessings Caspian had bestowed on the turquoise, Javor had a little trouble keeping up, though he expected nothing less from Sera. Their trajectory suddenly shot almost straight down, and without the protection of Caspian’s charm, Javor was nearly sure that the water pressure would have killed him. They entered a small cave mouth and followed behind Sera as she navigated a complex series of tunnels and caverns, but when they finally emerged, nothing Javor had ever seen before could compare to the sights he beheld. The underwater city gleamed with lights, and streets lined with pebbles and coral twisted on for miles. Countless buildings dotted the landscape, but they weren’t structured like anything Javor had seen before. Very few of the buildings had roofs, and all of them had gaping windows in the walls (some had no walls at all, only large pillars to mark the boundaries of the space) that seemed to be used as entry and exit points occasionally. Coral gardens accented the city periodically, and he could see all manner of water spirits flitting about below. In the distance, his cousins’ palace loomed with spires so impossibly tall that Javor thought they might reach the surface of the water miles and miles above them. They swam through the city at a leisurely pace to allow Javor to inspect the city as they passed through it, and though he tried very hard later on, he couldn’t quite describe the city. There were no words he could conjure to capture the essence of this otherworldly place. Never before had he been surrounded by so much magic all at once, and everywhere he turned, he saw some new impossibility being performed before his own eyes. Many of the buildings seemed to be in possession of air bubbles somehow. He supposed this allowed for better communication between the occupants, but he couldn’t be sure without asking one his cousins. Others were filled with water, but they had large holes in the walls and roofs (if there was a roof) to facilitate swimming in and out. He even thought he spied a library or a bookstore at one point, but he couldn’t fathom how they had gotten the books there without the water spoiling them.
At last, they reached the palace courtyard, which was filled with colorful corals and fountains and intricate statues of people Javor didn’t recognize. As they passed through, Einar motioned to a plaque underneath one of them, which read: “Chernomor Halloran, King of Each Uisge, Lord Excelsis of the Seas.” The statue was large and imposing, depicting a strikingly handsome man of marble with long, flowing hair reminiscent of a waterfall. Across the courtyard, a slender statue stood exactly opposite Chernomor, and Javor guessed that the serene, marble woman was a statue of the queen. They entered through the massive, double doors at the front of the palace, and after swimming down the hall a little ways, they reached an air bubble of substantial size. Following his cousins, Javor returned to human form and began to walk the rest of the way down the hall. Einar explained that most of the palace interior was free of water to make talking and other activities easier but that there were public sections that were mostly water-filled to accommodate water spirits that were incapable of surviving outside it. They spent the afternoon running around the palace, playing hide and seek and teasing Sereia’s sisters, Ula, Hali, Abelia, and Pavati. Javor, Einar, and Gawain played numerous pranks on their cousins and some of the staff, though Caspian made sure they were harmless. Javor even got to meet Queen Morwenna, the mother of his cousins, but the meeting was brief since the queen was busy with other matters, though he thought he saw a flash of annoyance in her eyes directed at Sereia. Eventually, he had to return home, so Sereia, Aegaeon, and Einar accompanied him on the journey back home since he never could have navigated the cave complex successfully on his own.
When they finally reached land again, it was night. Knowing his mother would be worried about him, Javor bid his cousins a hasty goodbye and thanked them sincerely for the wonderful day they’d given him. Sereia offered to go home with him and explain where they had been to his mother, but he declined her kind offer politely because he felt it would be best if he told his mother what had happened himself. He waved farewell to his cousins as they returned to the ocean, and when they were out of sight beneath the blue waves, he knew it was time to head home. However, there was an obstacle in his way. A man nearly six feet tall materialized on the beach in his path and commanded him to be still. As he remained silent, Javor noticed the strands of seaweed braided into the man’s long, blonde locks and deduced that he must also be an each uisge. With a touch of dramatic flair, the man introduced himself as the one and only, Alasdair Halloran, much to Javor’s surprise. When he had heard that he had a son who possessed his powers, he decided he had to see for himself if the rumors were true, and sure enough, the stories were real. Javor didn’t know what to think about all this, but at least he would have until tomorrow since Alasdair had something to do until then. Alasdair let him pass, and wordlessly, Javor headed for home, though he wandered through the woods a bit first to make sure he wasn’t being followed. There was something dangerous about Alasdair that he hadn’t liked.
When he reached home, his mother was nearly hysterical. It was past midnight now, and she had been worried sick that something horrible had befallen him. As he warmed himself by the hearth, his mother heated a bowl of soup on the stove for him and wouldn’t let him speak until he had sipped every, last drop. Then, he told her everything, including meeting his cousins and his strange run-in with his father just before he’d come home. His mother listened silently until his tale ended, and then she took out a letter hidden in between the pages of a book and handed it to him. Javor opened the envelope and read the invitation aloud, frowning in thought. His mother explained that one night someone had slipped the envelope underneath the front door, but when she went to check to see who it was, no one had been there. She hadn’t showed it to him before now because she loved having him close by, but now, with the attention of Alasdair Halloran upon them, it might be for the best if he attended MC Academy. She could disappear from this place and hide from Alasdair, and Javor could be safe at the school. He was reluctant to go at first. The adventures he’d been on with his cousins were like nothing he’d ever experienced, and he didn’t want to give that up. However, he knew that things would be dangerous for his mother if he didn’t leave, and he didn’t want to find out what Alasdair had in store for him either. In the end, he decided to go willingly, and he has been at the academy ever since.

Other: Trying to quit smoking but not making much headway.
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message 15: by the_rabid_snail (new)

Sep 19, 2024 06:04PM

Angelo B. Hawkley - Part One
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message 16: by the_rabid_snail (new)

Sep 19, 2024 06:04PM

Angelo B. Hawkley - Part Two
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The same warning as above also applies here. Read at your own risk.

History cont'd: Things weren’t perfect in his life, but no one had a perfect life anyway. He was content enough with the way things were until his mother was so far along in her second pregnancy that she was forced to announce it. At first, he was excited to be getting a new brother or sister, but his father was markedly less enthusiastic about a new addition to their family. Angelo was uncertain why, but the night his mother came home from the hospital with his baby brother, he found out why. His father, drunk as usual, accused his mother of infidelity and shouted all kinds of horrible things to her that Angelo would never dare repeat. Furious, his father stormed out of the house, and his mother made no effort to run after him or call him back, which was probably a wise decision at the time. How were either of them to know that he would never return? Angelo later learned that his father had another child, a daughter named Anna Lynn, with some other woman and had gone to live with his other family.
When Atticus was a few years old, his mother took off with him while Angelo was still at school. He returned home to an empty house and a note from his mother informing him that she had left and not to try and find her and Atticus. Incredibly hurt, Angelo smashed the mirrors, threw the dishes and china onto the tile, shattering them, and destroyed anything else he could get his hands on. After wrecking the house, he ran out into the backyard and crumpled to the ground, crying in a pitiful, little huddle. He cried himself to sleep in his tent in the backyard that night, and the next day he skipped school, staying home and reading his new astronomy books that he’d rented from the school library.
Once school had let out for the day, he decided to run over to Carlisle’s house since it was just one street over from his house. They were happy to have him stay for dinner, and since the next day was a Saturday, they allowed him to spend the night on an air mattress in Carlisle’s room. Angelo asked Carlisle if he could live with them forever after everyone had gone to bed, and Carlisle, who could think of nothing more fun, said yes. However, in the morning, Carlisle’s parents called social services and reported what had happened to Angelo. A pair of social workers soon picked him up and placed him in a foster home, and Angelo decided he would never forgive Carlisle or his family for what they’d done to him. It seemed as if no one wanted him. First his father left him, then his mother and Atticus, and now his best friend Carlisle had abandoned him too. The world was bleak and hopeless all around him, and he could find nothing about it that was worthy.
After being frequently abandoned and treated as inferior, Angelo began to grow bitter, angry, and resentful of everyone and everything around him. He had to start over at a new school, but he made new friends when he joined the football team. He used sports as an outlet for all his pent-up frustration and anger, and his personal goal was to absolutely destroy the other team’s quarterback in any possible way, even if that meant injuring them. He built up a reputation for himself as the biggest, scariest defensive end on any team in the area, and he was regarded as slightly insane with an aggressive and cruel streak. His teammates might have been a tiny bit scared of him too, but they had his back on and off the field, though whether that was because they were afraid of what he might do to them if they chose otherwise was debatable. They did seem to genuinely love having him on the team, though.
Girls were not one of his priorities, and he was one of the only football players who hadn’t dated and slept around. Sure, there were girls who chased after him for a little bit, attracted by his big, bad, dangerous aura, but while he encouraged and led them on for appearance’s sake, he had no interest in being with any of them. They were all pretty and shallow and would just dump his ass like everyone else in his life had. His unwillingness to date or anything else became a point of contention between him and the captain of the cheerleading team, who had been seriously pining after him since he joined the team, but he did what he always did when people expected something of him that he wasn’t going to do, he flipped her off. There was a whole football team of other guys she could go out with if she wanted to be with a football player, so he didn’t feel bad at all about rejecting her. It wasn’t as if she really knew or cared about him; the only reason she was after him was because she wanted to prove that she could wrap any guy she wanted around her little finger. Mostly Angelo ignored her or made vulgar gestures to shut her up, and that worked for a while when he ran into her and couldn’t get away before she started talking. However, her attempts to get his attention escalated, and finally, she did something so infuriating that he lost his temper, smashed her phone, and punched a hole in the wall. That sparked all kinds of rumors, but Angelo didn’t care. He only wanted this manipulative cheerleader to back off him, and if the price of that was people making up stories about a relationship that never existed, so be it.
Angelo was never the subject of interest of any prospective couples looking to adopt, but that was no surprise. He knew older kids had lower chances of being adopted, and he’d accepted that soon after moving into his foster home. Besides, he liked his school for the most part and didn’t want to have to start over on some other school’s football team. He liked his teammates and their amazing record during the seasons he’d played with them, and despite all the girl drama, he wouldn’t ever want to attend any other school. However, the world decided to end and turn everything upside down.
His father was a werewolf, but Angelo had no idea until he reached high school because his abilities had never made themselves evident. His freshman year, he changed shapes during the full moon for the first time, and although it was disorienting at first, by the end he was thrilled with his discovery. He spent his nights practicing with his newfound abilities, and after a year of mastering his ability to change shapes and control his new physique, he crossed paths with a werewolf pack passing through the area. They were generous enough to allow him to hunt with them at night, and he learned that his abilities could surpass what he was capable of now with more practice.
Unfortunately due to all this time spent with the wolves, his schoolwork suffered. He’d never been a particularly good student before, but he’d at least managed to pass his classes. Now he was failing most of his subjects, but he didn’t care, despite the numerous times his foster parents tried to sit him down and talk to him about his academic performance. One day, a letter arrived. It was an invitation to attend a special school, and not knowing what else to do, his foster parents and social worker agreed it was best to send him there. He’s currently on his second year at MC Academy.

Other: His nickname 'Wolfhound' was originally meant to be derogatory as wolfhounds were bred to kill wolves, but he's come to love it.
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