polarisjeanne

[polarisjeanne]

How anyone could stay at this land-locked mess of a school for too long completely baffles Ginny. There’s the obvious answer, that most of the other students here haven’t spent three decades living under water and are perfectly used to dry skin and lung breathing, but Ginny isn’t here for obvious answers. The lake on school grounds really is her saving grace. Or at least it is most days, when her favorite spot right on the edge of the water is unoccupied. Today though, someone else has taken up residence in her perfect spot, and she needs to mentally count to seventeen (ten just doesn’t cut it). You don’t own the lake. “Hey.” Despite her most mediocre efforts, she can’t fake too friendly a tone. “Do you... mind if I sit here too?” If they said no, she was going to do it anyway. But manners.

[polarisjeanne]

Lenora has seen a great many things in her life. Some tragic, some hilarious, some she would sooner scrub from her memories with a poorly ground walnut facial. But this may just take the prize for most cringeworthy: a poor boy, most likely a first year, attempting to flirt with their very taken, very gay headmistress only a few yards ahead. “Please tell me you’re seeing this too,” she says to her companion. “If I knew what embarrassment felt like, I��d be experiencing it second hand right now.”

[polarisjeanne]

“If I say again that it’s for a good cause, can you forgive me for stealing your afternoon?” The task is heftier than Molly had originally planned  — not only do they have to sort each piece of clothing, but they also need to remove any charms or traces of magic put on them. She hates to think what might happen if they accidentally donated a bewitched pair of socks to the mortal town’s local shelter. Luckily, the pair she’s handling now seem to be magic-free, so she carefully folds and puts them in a bin with the other socks. “And I’ll make it up to you, too. Though I think the act itself is its own reward, hmm?” Coming from someone else, it may sound like an attempt to get out of reciprocating the help. But at this point in her life, she truly can’t imagine anything better than knowing you had done your part to help someone else.

[polarisjeanne]

[polarisjeanne]

polarisleigh​:

The stained glass windows in the common area are reflecting colors across Amara’s notebook, turning her notes several shades of red, green, and orange. Her pen scratches across the yellowing paper, and Amara relishes in the sound. If Light were here, they’d love the colors, probably. Her heart sinks as she’s once again reminded of her fallen lover, but she doesn’t let it bother her. There’s another person sitting at the same table who happens to have the book that Amara needs to finish up her studying. “Excuse me,” she calls softly, her voice surprisingly hesitant for someone who killed without a second thought. “Could I borrow that when you’re done?”

Someone call the goddamn Vatican and let them know a miracle is occurring: Riley Modi is out and about actually studying. Or that’s what he intended to do when he first ventured out of his room, anyway. It started with him wanting to win a bet with his Uncle Ichabod that would secure him a Dairy Queen gift card if he aced all of his classes, but somewhere along the way he became distracted by Vine compilations on his phone (Byte could eat his entire ass if it thought it could compare). To be quite frank, he forgot he was even in the common room until he was spoken to. “Yeah, sure.” Is he done? Probably not, but she’ll probably get a better use of the book anyway. “Ignore the cat doodles unless you see any you want to add to. Then go ham.”

[polarisjeanne]

polarisashley​:

“Honestly, and I say this with all my fucking heart,” Shiloh begins, words muffled as she tries to hold a cigarette securely between her lips while she pulls her hair back into a ponytail, “you’re kind of being a piece of shit today.” Karma is quick; the hair tie snaps in half and falls to the ground. Shiloh grunts, plucks the cigarette from her mouth, and expels a steady cloud from her lungs. “I’m gonna unfollow you on Instagram if you don’t get your shit together.” 

The first offense Daphne takes is at the insult. The second (and more gutting) offense is at the unfollow threat, so much so that she actually pouts at the prospect. “Please. You and I both know that would be your lose.” Not to be too narcissistic, but she doubts many other people on Shiloh’s feed could hold a candle to her eyebrow levels. She does, however, have to concede that she may be a bit over the top. “And besides, it’s not entirely my fault. If someone says something stupid, it’s my god-given need to make sure they know that..”

[polarisjeanne]

 polarisricki​:

The floor creaks beneath Tommy’s feet and it’s straight-up frustration that has him closing his eyes and counting to ten. He… hadn’t planned on being at Polaris this long. The confrontation with his ex was enough to make him choose his father’s manipulation any day, but Duyen had found herself too busy to take him home and he wasn’t going to ask her to expend even more magic after hours. Gatsby had been his next consideration, but the woman is hard to find when she wants to be. Bags sink beneath his eyes, the clear evidence of how long this day has been.

And yet he can’t sleep; not in that bed, anyway.

Which is how he finds himself standing across from Haley Sterling in a pair of tattered flannel pants, an unstained white tee and a robe. Sans his slippers, unfortunately.

When he reaches ‘four’ ––– ten is a little too long ––– he opens his eyes and smiles at Haley, because he’s still polite. ( Even if he’s dissociated his way through this entire month. ) Hands slipping into his pockets, he shakes his head. “I’m afraid I wasn’t sleeping to begin with. I thought I would take a walk or something to clear my heard. I apologize, I didn’t realize anyone would be out here.”

A few more responses lay on the tip of his tongue: are you okay, do you want company, would you like to join me, do you want me to just fuck off. All valid and unwarranted, he’s sure. But his eyes clock the slight tremor to her figure and his brows knit with worry because relational bullshit aside, this is Tommy and he’s only ever overflowed with care.

“…You are under no obligation to answer this, if you do not want to,” he prefaces, eyes coming back up to meet hers. “But… are you okay?”

Haley probably won’t admit it (unless directly asked or under the influence of an overly fruity alcoholic drink), but she’s just a tiny teensy itty bitty smidgeon terrified by most of her dorm mates. They were probably all very cool and lovely people. Sometimes though, there were only so many convos she could overhear about drinking elk blood and having tea parties with demons before it all got to her. As best as she can remember, she’s never overheard Tommy talk about drinking elk blood, and his whole fairy tale prince vibe aligned more with tea parties with the queen than demons, so she should probs thank her lucky Corvus that he was the one who had popped in.

The dreams still have her tense though. Plus it would be hella rude to put her own problems on someone else at butt-late o’clock at night. Instead, she shrugs and uncurls her legs.  “Just a bad dream.” It’s a half truth, meaning it’s also half lie of omission, and Haley finds very few things less cool than lying. But it’s a half truth she’s learned to rely on.”You don’t have to apologize though, you’re totally fine. It’s like... your common room too.” And while Haley may not be the brightest crayon in the 64-pack, she’s not dense enough to not notice that Tommy looks significantly less sunshine-y than normal. Cocking her head to the side, she asks, “are you okay?”

[polarisjeanne]

text || lenora&beth.

BETH: Um.

BETH: I think that would generally be frowned upon?

BETH: Unless it's me, please push me off a tower.

LENORA: But frowned upon isn’t the same as prohibited.

LENORA: I will not be doing that.

[polarisjeanne]

something: *exists*

me: hmm okay

something: *is pink*

me: oooooh yes add to fuckin cart baby

[polarisjeanne]

polarisleigh​:

“Does that mean he’s handsome?” Adeline asks, now suddenly curious about this class. “Because nobody can give Marlon Brando a run for his money– although, I have to disagree about his performance in Guys and Dolls, because Frank Sinatra one hundred percent should have been Sky Masterson, however–” She cuts herself off before saying she should have been Sarah, “you’ve absolutely intrigued me.”

With that, Adeline stands from her spot on the ground, brushes off the non-existent dirt from her pencil skirt, and reaches a hand out to help Rhiannon out. “So much so that I can’t deny myself your company for just a little longer. What do you say?”

That’s one thing Rhiannon secretly loves — knowing all the ins and outs of not only Polaris, but it’s people. While not quite top of the food chain as a PA, it is a nice feeling to be able to explain campus to newcomers. Being typecast as the naive, impressionable young lead so often has definitely made her cherish things like this. “He’s pretty to look at, I’ll give him that. Not my personal favorite professor to make heart eyes at, but I get the appeal. If you’re ever in need of a few extra credit points in class, compliment his hair. It’ll get you anywhere.”

At the acceptance of her offer, Rhiannon grins and allows Adeline to pull her up. Then, ever the apparent sweetheart, she loops an arm through Adeline’s to act as a guide. “A perfect answer. When they try and stick you with a proper member of the welcome wagon, you’ll have to tell them you’ve already got the deluxe tour experience. Come on, the astronomy tower is this way.”

[polarisjeanne]

polarisricki​:

Her grin sharpens, honey balanced on a knife’s edge, and she tuts lightly at Molly. “No questions, Moll. Trust me.” ——’sides, it’s not really a request. She stands from the couch in clunky motions and shrugs off her blazer, tossing it onto the wicker chair kept in the corner. She curls her fingers into her empty palm and twists her wrist. Crystals materialize in her hand and she throws a smile to Molly, that kind of smile that usually precedes some dumb declaration like, ‘magic!’ She looks back to the crystals gathered in her hand — two black, one red, two silver, one murky-ass white — and feels her smile fade.

“——Hey, Molly?” Her voice loses some of its enthusiasm, noticeable only if you search for it. “You’ve heard that warning about fairy rings, right? What happens if you step into ‘em?” You never come out. Duyen’s met a few faeries in her time, stepped into a few rings just to see if there was any truth to that. There is, sure, but not if you’re an underground king. Not if you’re Duyen Nhu Huynh. She uncurls her fistful of crystals and passes her opposite palm over them. They pulse, colors gleaming bright for brief moments before fading back. Dull stare fastened on the ground, she tosses the crystals out ahead of her and watches as they land in a perfect ring, broken just enough to allow Duyen and Molly to step through. She looks over at Molly, something manic and tragic about the renewed smile. “If you lose track of me, I won’t come looking for you.”

And Duyen is — was — is many things, but a liar, she is not.

She all but skips into the ring, not even bothering to check in Molly is following. She can’t say she cares. The moment she steps into the ring, she leaves Polaris entirely and reappears in a back alley, gum staining the concrete and shattered glass lining the walls. She pivots on her toes and throws a grin to her companion. “Welcome to the slums of Brooklyn, Molly. Would you like a tour?”

Even after more than a century learning the ins and outs of the witch’s world, Molly still finds herself tilting her head at the sight of the crystals. It truly is fascinating, how no two people’s magic is the same. Then again, it can also be said that no one else could compare to Duyen’s magic because of Duyen herself.

It’s because it’s Duyen that Molly edges out of her seat. Wherever this is going, she���ll feel much better knowing that she’s not unleashing an unsupervised Duyen onto the world — or leaving Duyen to combat the unknown solo. She mumbles underneath her breath, a combination of a prayer and a protective incantation that’s yet to fail her, before following the lead through the circle. The surroundings are all at once novel and generically familiar — if you’ve seen one overpopulated city’s back alleys, you’ve seen them all. 

Nevertheless, Molly breaths in to steady her slight vertigo from the trip and she has to wonder. But Duyen beats her to the question with a response. Brooklynn — Molly runs through a mental list of places she’s been and decides that yes, this is a new one. That means it’s safe, and that means Molly has very little problem relaxing her shoulders. “A tour for business or pleasure? I’d like to know so I can plan the appropriate tourist t-shirt to buy before we leave.” It’s as polite a way she can think of to ask what exactly they’re doing in New York today. (  — @polarisricki​ )

[polarisjeanne]

text || lenora&beth.

LENORA: You're far more well-behaved than me, do you know if there's any school rule against goading students to the top of a very high cliff and then using a gust of wind to push them off?

LENORA: Hypothetically speaking.

[polarisjeanne]

text || daphne&naomi.

DAPHNE: Are you available to help a gal with some homework?

[polarisjeanne]

text || mary&mari.

MARY: Hello, sunshine!!

MARY: My uncles sent me some saplings they got from a travelling witch back home. Do you want to help me pick out the perfect location for each and every one of them?

[polarisjeanne]

text || margot&liam.

MARGOT: I have good news and bad news. Which do you want first?

[polarisjeanne]

text || violet&mara.

VIOLET: Hey, do you own a thesaurus? I want to e-mail Ollie something bitchy and pretentious but my brain shuts down if I think of any word over two syllables.

[polarisjeanne]

polarisricki​:

“You’ve been obsessing for ten minutes,” Chao interrupts bluntly, flipping the page in her book and letting her fingers graze the Braille. “You’re going to hyperventilate if you don’t chill out a little. I mean…” Beneath the table, the heel of her foot taps lightly against the ground and the world paints itself in vivid detail behind unseeing eyes. She looks up to her companion before their image fades again. “Is it really that serious?”

”Okay, firstly? It’s been eight minutes.” A minor details, but Ginny would not stand for her mediocre name to be tarnished by an exaggeration. She does have to mentally note that she’d gone a bit faster than what seemed to be socially acceptable. That, however, was easily chalked up to the fact she’s still getting used to breathing air. It’s hardly her fault if her instinct is to talk faster when she feels it running out. “And yes, it is that serious. Of the seven species of sea turtles, six have enough data to classify them as endangered. Three are critically endangered, meaning time is quite literally of the essence.” She places the petition down hard enough on the table that she hopes Chao can feel it. “Signing this will help us move one step closer to the Ursas approving a multi-faceted spring break expedition focused on protecting the species. And if you want, I can add you to the e-mail list for our newsletter.” It was really just her newsletter, but again. Minor detail.