ѕ υ p r e м a c y

/ By safeguards [+Watch]

Replies: 3 / 6 years 190 days 8 hours 45 minutes 9 seconds

Allowed Users

  1. [Queued] Kizusama
  2. [Allowed] Serotonin
  3. [Allowed] Vendetta-Vengeance
  4. [Allowed] JezzybooBaby
  5. [Allowed] swiss
  6. [Allowed] Crimsei
  7. [Allowed] occultist
  8. [Allowed] shameful

ѕ υ p r e м a c y

You are n o t the next Supreme.

Welcome to Miss Robichaux's Academy for Exceptional Young Ladies. The Academy was built in 1790 as a private school for privileged girls but was turned into a military hospital in the Civil War. The Supreme, the most powerful witch of the generation and a prominent socialite back then, reclaimed the building and reinstated it as a school as a cover-up, but in reality turned it into a safe haven for young witches to learn and hone their powers. It is currently under the ownership of Ms. Cordelia Foxx, resident Supreme. The witch Council consists of Zoe Benson and Queenie. You are here because you have power. You are... a witch. Welcome to the Coven.

Cordelia has just opened the doors to the Academy to the public, exposing the Coven to the media. You can call or email or stop by any time. But it turns out that there are hundreds of you... "witches". You come pouring in and taking up the rooms, eating the food, lusting after power.

You do have power, don't you?

And you want to prove it. You are the next Supreme. And you will show them all. It doesn't matter who you have to destroy and bury. It doesn't matter what you have to burn. You will make them see even if you have to kill Cordelia Foxx to grow into your powers.

ѕo ѕнow мe.


000. Yes, this is based off of American Horror Story: Coven. No, you do not need to have seen it to join.

002. Literacy. I'm setting it at 1500.

003. Lust, love, lies, drama. Surprise.

004. This is not a huge group roleplay. No one can accurately keep up with that. I will set character limits.

005. It will probably come down to you handling lots of minor characters. But you start with one and it's nice to pick up some for the effect of an academy.

006. Don't godmod. It sucks. It's a buzzkill.

007. Dynamic characters are in want. Don't know what that is? Good bye.

008. Don't rush me to post and I won't rush you. I, for example, am getting over a gigantic writer's block. I'm hoping this will give me some inspiration.

009. Spelling, grammar, punctuation.

010. This idea is not mine, but the written form of this rp is. So don't be a shit and steal it.

011. Yes, they have powers/abilities. Be imaginative. Google something. Wow me.

012. If you can't handle mean characters, get out. No one in the academy is without blood on their hands.

013. I like real pictures. Don't be afraid to ask if you need help or want it edited or whatever.

014. This is not a super futuristic world. It's rather modern day.

015. Please, please don't be afraid of me. I'm not as mean as I sound. PM me with any commentary, huh? Questions are cool, too.

016. Don't be afraid to be a guy! Maybe they're neighbors, witch hunters, or friends of the Coven. Either way, they could prove to be quite interesting characters.

017. Have fun!

018. Not everyone is the Supreme, obviously.

So join up, bitches.

Name: ll Age: 17-25 ll Gender: All witches are female. Any males would be humans outside the Academy.ll Sexual Orientation: ll Power: ll Origins: Where did you come from, location-wise?

Wren Aksokav ll 19 ll Female. ll Pansexual ll Transmutation [ Teleportation ] ll A small town named Makarov in Russia.

Luminitia Oana ll 18 ll Female. ll Lesbian ll Telekinesis ll Lecce, Italy

Salem Zion ll 23 ll Male ll Straight ll Witch Hunter ll California, United States

Stella Sonya Kurr ll 19 ll Female.ll Bi-sexual leaning more towards males though ll Bringing the dead back to life ll Moscow, Russia.

Chandler Brownlowe ll 25 ll Male ll Heterosexual ll N / A ll Also born in Louisiana a year before his brother Briar, he is himself a country boy. To the bone and then some. However, he has traversed many a land, so he's far from under-experienced.

Briar Daugherty ll 24 ll Male ll Heterosexual ll N / A ll He was born in Louisiana, mostly dwelling in the countryside in his younger years, but he moved to Baton Rouge once he decided to get out into the world. He is a witch-hunter and primarily works with his brother.

Evelyn Sauyer ll 22 ll Female ll Lesbian llFire conjuring and manipulation ll Romania; Bucharest

Azuzena De Leon ll21 ll Female ll Pretty much fucks anythings she thinks is pretty ll She works similar to a succubi, but instead of using them to keep her young and beautiful she manipulates the soul to do her biding. She keeps her favorite souls inside of jars in a tiny room behind her closet. ll A small town right in the center of Mexico, just outside Mexico D.F.

Erin ll 23 ll Female ll Borderline Asexual ll Shadow/dark matter manipulation ll the bowels of New York City

мay god ғear тнe ѕυpreмe.


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Roleplay Responses

The soft sound of a page being turned by ink covered fingers is the only thing accompanying the small noises given off by the other passengers. The occasional snore of the person next to her had subsided for the time being, when all of a sudden Erin's seat quaked, everything in the plane rattling as it was pushed and pulled by the wind.

"Hello, this is your captain speaking. We're experiencing another bit of turbulence which should be over soon. Please stay in your seats until the seat-belt light turns off. Thank you."

A grimace shrouded the woman's features, her face turning a few shades paler than it already was. A slight tremor was to be found in her hands, one of which held the book, the other of which clutched onto the armrest beside her. The passenger to her left let out another volcanic snore, prompting her to put in her earphones and tune him out with the sound of another Radiohead album. She traced a a scratch on her hand, about two inches long, given to her by her cat Charlie when she had to stuff him into his cat carrier box, and worried about him.

The plane shook again, causing her heart to fly into a panic as she clenched her teeth, and Erin bitterly reflected on how she came to be in such a situation. Flying from her beloved dump of a city to the Mardi Gras circus was certainly not on her Christmas wishlist; never had been, until one morning she woke to the shrill screams of her phone, picking it up only to hear the similarly shrill screams of her boss, saying what an opportunity it was.


It was the word she never thought she'd be thankful for. Who could anticipate that the thinly veiled insult might open new painted black doors into the most mysterious news headline that the media could catch in their sticky fingers. Being a kid who could manipulate shadows and make her own disappear wasn't the kind of cool gift that the Harry Potter fans thought it was. This was one gloomy Hermione Granger.

The plane steadied, the seatbelt light turned off, and Erin darted to the bathroom to unload the contents of her stomach into the disgusting hole they called a toilet. The sounds of retching could be heard by all surrounding passengers, who avoided that bathroom for the rest of the flight.


The harsh lights of the airport bathroom pierced her eyes as she rifled through her bags to find the toothbrush she had nearly forgotten on her way out. Slathering it in toothpaste, Erin brushed the vomit residue from her mouth twice, her mouth minty fresh by the end of it all. Charlie let out hiss, pushing his head against the front of the cage and directing his honey-golden iridescent eyes at her in a glare.

The night was falling swiftly, sounds of the city ceasing as Erin's head lolled against the seat of the cab, eyelids heavy. The radio was turned on low, making it seem far-away; the next thing she knew, the car was pulling up onto pretty pavement, stopped by black gates. Stepped out of the cab, goosebumps rose along her arms as she quickly took her suitcase from the trunk and paid the driver his fare.

The gate opened as the vehicle pulled away, the final opportunity for Erin to abandon this odd, possibly dangerous task and return to her mundane isolated life. A woman stood on the porch, wrapped in shawl. Her yellow hair went a few inches below the shoulder, and if she wasn't so elegant she might have appeared matronly.

"Are you Cordelia?" Erin asked as she drew closer to the looming house. The woman smiled in response, nodding and presenting one hand for the younger witch to shake. Her grip was firm, respectful.

"I am. And you're Erin, I presume? It's a pleasure to meet you. How was your flight?"

From Erin's pale pink mouth emitted a bitter laugh. "Like most flights." Cordelia's expression molded into one of sympathy.

"I know the feeling. But you've arrived, and a warm bed is waiting for you upstairs. We can talk more in the morning."

With a grateful smile, Erin stepped inside. The prospect of sleep was the only thing capable of moving her drowsy legs up the stairs to her new room, and as soon as she put her bags down she slide between the clean sheets sleep overcame her.


Erin was woken by the sun sneaking past the curtains. Her limbs were weighed down in sleep, and sitting upright gave her an opportunity to examine her surroundings -- which were posh to say the least. Everything was in black and white: the thick black curtains draped over the window; the floor and walls gleamed a polished white; the sheets were like snow.

Charlie gave her an apathetic look from where he was perched atop a wardrobe as she left the room to go find a bathroom. Walking down the silent hallway, she spotted a door that seemed like it was what she was looking for. Erin peaked inside only to find a woman...

...who was literally on fire.

Erin screamed. "Quick, you have to..."" The words died on her lips as she realized that it was just magic. "Jesus fucking christ... I'm going to send you the bill for my valium, 'kay? 'Kay." Covering her face with one hand, she felt a dash of red spread across her cheeks, thinking of what a first impression this must be. Who the fuck thinks it's a good idea to set themself on fire? Of course, Erin has used her darkness in unconventional ways before -- as makeup, as paint, to erase her shadow -- but nothing that made her look like she was about to melt her own face off.

  potions / occultist / 6y 165d 15h 44m 37s
Evelyn was laying in her bed, it was quiet through out the house, as it normally was. This was something that she had grown accustomed to though, she was always alone, even back home in Romania. Her house was huge and full of servants running around as if their heads were cut off as a chicken would, and yet it was very lonely. This place seemed to be no different.

Laying in her bed, she ran her hands across her sheets, they were black silk -smooth and cool on her skin that always seemed to be burning up- they were a god send when she felt warm. The darkness of her room always helped it as well. Feeling her chest lift up slightly as she took in a breath, she began to feel her pulse quicken. She was anticipating that something would happen soon, and that she was going to be a part in it.

Staring at her ceiling in silence she felt the thoughts running inside the inner parts of her head as if they were pricks and needles. They never quite poked the same location, which in turn drove her to feel as if she was going insane. Never being able to complete a thought process the moment that it enters your head? It was as if someone tried to make her go crazy. She knew however that she really wasn't, it was merely her feelings. She had learned long ago that they weren't important to anyone but herself, so why drive herself mad? There was no logical reason and so she never thought on it for too long. That was what was safe, especially for her. She still remembered when her heart was broken months ago, and it only proved her beliefs to be true.

Evelyn kept her focus on the bright white ceiling above her head -she had to keep those thoughts out of her mind she had to keep it busy- it had little white flowers on it which only confused her in the end. Why make them white? Weren't they supposed to be noticed and adored? That is what you would think, but some decor was supposed to be strange these days she guessed. She really wasn't going to question it too much or her O.C.D would take over and she would end up burning them all off, leaving nothing but patches of scorches along her new room. Her personal decor was kept simple, black curtains covered the windows, she never liked the light, she was ass backwards she supposed but had accepted it. A black dresser in the corner, a large oak vanity along the far wall, then her bed by the windows. The sheets were created for her specifically, they were as the Americans would say, fire proof. She was a fire starter -or in the scientists that her parents had study her for her entire child hood would call her- a pyrokinesis. Sometimes she would have nightmares, in which she could never control what she burned. She wasn't allowed to have a room mate due to her own request because to her the fear of burning the person alive and feeling no regret -again- was the best feeling, and she never wanted to lose her emotions. She enjoyed feelings things and experiencing different things too much. Those things were taken from her as a child, she wanted to keep them for as long as she could now.

Pushing herself from the bed Evelyn stood and walked to the window sill her bed was placed under. Moving the curtain to the side she saw how early it really was, she was just beginning to hear the morning chirping of the finches and cardinals. It was relaxing. This school was miles from the nearest part of New Orleans and she never had to listen to the bustling cars and human life. Unless she chose to, it was a great feeling, to keep control of something. Like controlling my fire. the thought she had made her lips pull up into a grin, yes she loved her fire, and the destruction that followed it.

Letting the curtains fall back into place by hiding the suns rays from her room, Evelyn moved to the dresser and pulled her clothes for the day out. Placing them on the edge of her bed she then moved to the bathroom and decided to shower for the day. It was a great way to start her morning, it was how she started all mornings. Fresh and clean. After her shower she got dressed and sat in front of her vanity, then stared at herself. Her lips were full and pink, her eyes as green as emeralds, and her hair...was the same color as fire her mother would always tell her. This she had always thought was ironic in a funny way, a pyrokinesis with red hair? It was very funny.

Staring at her eyes in the mirrors reflection, she watched them begin to glow as she summoned her fire. The fire had run across her fingertips to her shoulders, to her neck then engulfed her hair lifting it from her shoulders, the power of her fire levitating her slightly from the ground. She was used to this feeling, and she knew that she had more power inside of her, she just had to find it. Then she could fight to be the new and real Supreme, she could finally be rid of the cruel things that she was always told a child. She would punish those who hurt her, used her...and vandalized her. She would never allow another witch to ever feel the same pain as she had, this much she knew. She was here to fight for the title of ultimate witch of her generation. The supreme.

The idea caused her to shiver and made her fire flicker from red and orange to blue and white. This was going to be an interesting stay here at this house. She was going to make it fun, for everyone.

  Evelyn Sauyer / Crimsei / 6y 168d 8h 48m 0s
ι rυn тнroυgн glaѕѕ ιn тнe ѕтreeт

It was always dark in the morning. Even in Russia, it was always dark when she first woke. Louisiana air was different, though--she wasn't prepared for such humid air all the time. Most of her clothes weren't even close to being suited for the weather.

Wren looked out her window into the street below her. It was never busy this early--a time she couldn't help but wake up. Wren couldn't sleep long if her life depended on it. Not to mention the fact that she'd been stressed beyond belief about the whole concept of a Supreme. Word on the street was that Cordelia had just grown into her powers--and she was supposed to be the most powerful witch of the generation? She was so old. There was no way that woman was the witch of the generation. Maybe she could be like a housemom or something. Wren didn't care. It didn't really matter. What mattered was the possibility that she was the Supreme.

Out of the five other girls, Wren wasn't too excited about her ability to beat them in achieving the Seven Wonders. She had heard that in past trials of the Coven, some witches had gone as far as eliminating the competition. The brunette wasn't entirely sure that she wouldn't indulge in such a thing.

She shook her head and frowned. Those were the thoughts that woke her at night; the kinds of things that had made her question making the ridiculously long trip from Makarov to this sleepy town in Louisiana. She didn't trust any of the other witches no matter how many times Cordelia tried to install such a thought into their heads. Wren wouldn't trust any of them with something as small as fashion advice.

She stood outside of her window for a long while, just staring out into the sky. At the first sign of sunlight, she decided it was a good idea to go make something to eat.

Her bare feet curled in protest when they touched the cold ground but the girl proceeded. She descended the stairs of the magnificent house and crept into the kitchen. Cordelia was still searching for "help" since the last two had caught a quick case of death. Apparently, being witches didn't motivate anyone to clean anything. Some of the girls didn't even know how to cook. Wren wouldn't put herself against Gordon Ramsay, but she figured she could be worse with a pan.

She coughed a bit as she opened the refrigerator and looked over the food. There was enough to make bacon, eggs, and some French toast--but she didn't feel like doing all that, so she planned to just plug up the toaster and make some waffles.

Wren reached into her pajama pants and brought out her phone. She had no one to text or call except her parents which was so embarrassing, so she usually used it for music, games, and sometimes reading. All of the media websites were covering the Academy--they had been ever since Cordelia had been so bold to expose them. It was how Wren even found out about the place.

She never thought herself a witch. Not before Cordelia. It would be a terrible shame when the Supreme found that she was upstaged by a teenage girl.

Wren grinned.

ĸeroѕene нearтѕ carry тнe naмe тнaт мy ғaтнer gave мe

The Russian brunette settled at the small table in the kitchen. She preferred sitting there rather than dining in the living room when it was just her eating. It felt so lonely otherwise.

She glanced back to make sure she'd cleaned the counter before getting fully immersed in the reading she was doing on her phone. There were Seven Wonders the Supreme witch had to demonstrate in order for everyone to know know she was the Supreme: telekinesis, concilium, pyrokinesis, divination, transmutation, vitalum vitalis, and descensum. If there was anything at all that scared her, it was descensum. Wren wasn't too keen to find out what her hell would look like. She also wasn't looking forward to the Supremacy trials, should they ever come, for the simple fear that there was already so many girls that had powers already considered one of the wonders.

She sighed and rubbed her eyes. She needed to get out more--there was so much American history is New Orleans. What was her business thinking about such things, anyway? Fiona Goode--the previous Supreme--just died. Cordelia's reign was sure to be long as hell. It would be a lifetime before Wren could even dream of coming anywhere near the Supremacy.

It would be an absolute tragedy if something were to cause Cordelia to die prematurely.

Wren rubbed her eyes. Maybe she wasn't getting enough sleep.

"Good morning," a familiar voice said softly to get her attention. Wren turned to see Cordelia enter the kitchen with a small, welcoming smile etched onto her older features. "You wake up really early, Wren, you know?"

The brunette managed a small grin. "People are constantly telling me that. I've gotten used to it, I suppose."

"Save any breakfast for me?"

"There might be a little bit of eggs left. I am not sure. But there aren't any more waffles. I just used the toaster. I was lazy. Sorry."

"Don't worry about it. It's hard to find good help nowadays, but I'm glad at least you can cook."

The younger woman offered her a bit of a consoling smile. "It's not a problem. I was thinking of maybe... going for a walk, I guess. Am I allowed to do that?"

"Of course! You don't have to ask me to do anything, you know. Just please make sure you're home before we have to report you missing."

They laughed together, though the concept of "home" weighed Wren's thoughts for a long time.

The brunette rose from her chair, discarded her used dishes, washed them, and excused herself from the table. Cordelia watched her ascend the stairs and disappear down the hallway that led to her bedroom.

Wren collapsed back onto her bed and stared at the ceiling for a few moments. She was trying to clear her head--her thoughts were becoming steadily less than amiable and telepathy wasn't an uncommon power, especially for the Supreme. She wasn't trying to get herself killed or exiled just because she was having some rather malicious thoughts regarding the Supremacy.

She got back up, chattering in her native language in her head as she got clothes together for the day. It had long since been a trend to wear all black to represent the coven. Wren did not plan to break that rule.

and тaĸe тнe ғace oғ тнe wolғ

Quoted song: Hell Above by Pierce the Veil.

Hello puppetmasters, and welcome to the Coven! The current Supreme is Cordelia Foxx and you must obviously think you're the next--but are you? Who's devious enough to attempt to kill the Supreme and risk being caught and burned at the stake? Who's clever enough to eliminate the competition?

I hope it's you. As a group, I think we need to all discuss people who could be the Supreme--nominate someone that isn't your character. I'll post it in the OOC thread's description--which is here, by the way. If I haven't added you already, please request access. Thanks. Also, if you need help understanding the Seven Wonders, please click here. It'll help, trust me. Also, Cordelia is a character anyone can play. Well, these are my last announcements. Let the race for the Supremacy begin.

  ғlaммaвle / safeguards / 6y 169d 6h 54m 12s

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