( ((OOC: Personality sketches of some of the faculty)) )

((OOC: This follows this thread.))

Lady Jilena opens the door of the Infirmary, turning on the lights.

She opens the door that separates the waiting area from the rest of the building, gesturing to Peri and Mikal. "You two, follow me -- the rest of you, wait here."

Illyrie stands inside a carefully-inscribed circle, her athame in one hand and her wand in the other.

She sends her awareness outward, and discovers to her horror that her prisoner has grown strong enough to break some of its bonds. Sweet Dana, no! This cannot be!She centers herself, reaching for the wellspring of power beneath the Academy. The ( Read more... )

The Academy stands in ruins, the broken, bloodied bodies of her charges spread about like broken toys carelessly flung from a child's uncaring hand. Tears stream down her cheeks, her throat closing up with a mixture of shame and horror. NO!

Oh, YES, witch! a hollow voice resounds in her head. You will imprison me no more!She doesn't even have time ( Read more... )

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( Behind a cut, because some of 'em are big! )

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She stood inside the circle, clad in a robe of silver silk, the silver torc hugging her throat and her athame in hand. The smells of incense and candle smoke filled her nostrils as she gathered up a wave of Glamour.

I will not fail the trust you placed in me, My Lady, she thought. It will stay bound!She began to chant in a language older than ( Read more... )

Dame Drusilla looks up from grading a stack of English essays as Sir Gunthar's huge frame fills the doorway ( Read more... )