Obligatory don't post if you aren't Zeraphia or Lichen. You'll know who is who.

Plot;

In a college designed specifically for folks who have been affected by Wild Magics, a pair of students find themselves constantly drawn together by deeper parts of Wild Magic. While they aren't terribly sure why or how, they decide to use this unknown force and make it into a school project.

But along the way, something that they uncover draws the attention of high powers within the Wild Magics. People around them, people important, go missing and silent threats are made in return. With no one else to go to, they work together to try and figure it out.

Other Tidbits;

enemy to lovers

Kalen Hemera

Age: 24
Gender: Male
Wild Magic: Wing-Shifting. (Aka, he can call and hide his wings. It's not that fancy or useful but here he is.)

Appearance:
Let me tell you. Let me--just hang on for a hot second. This young man stands approximately 6'0" even with the stance that could probably send warning bells ringing in a church. Not only does Kalen have an astounding height, this shifter has the muscle form of the statues of Roman heroes. Rippled, toned, looking like he was likely chiseled from the marble itself. His broad shoulders, his toned chest, the way he holds himself--it all just screams ... well... thick. Like gym bro thick.

His skin is a bit more on the dark side, with a warm tan color. It looks like the warm color of coffee with a slight bit of milk. Or the touching of varnish on fresh wood. It mixes well with his dark brown hair that waves. It falls in soft waves and lightly over his forehead, sometimes into his eyes. Tousled, messy, and on purpose. But the eyes. Oh the eyes. The warning bells are nearly screaming.

Kalen's eyes are a strange color. They almost want to be soft green, maybe blue... but there's just a touch too much uncanny green to them. Of all the colors in the world, it almost seemed to fit the same warm tone, the same comforting color that the rest of him has and instead, threw vibrant and piercing green in those eyes. The eyes are always windows to the soul, to the mind. And boy howdy, it takes a fair amount of looking to really tell what Kalen is thinking. Speaking of which, leads to this young man's "second form."

He falls under a shifting version of Wild Magic. It's not a real second form or anything fancy like that, rather actual wings that he can shift into. While these wings have no real other magic ability or whatnot, they just are there. They're creamy, they're white and beautiful. But somewhat... odd compared to the rest of him.

Tela Mazekin

Age: 23 Years Old

Gender: Female

Wild Magic: Electricity Manipulation; She can conduct and manipulate electrical currents around her, but there are some draw backs that she is working on. The main one being that she tends to overload her nervous system, leaving her with tremors for several hours.

Appearance

Standing at a whopping 5'4", Tela is the epitome of tall goddess. Or at least that's how she sees herself most of the time. Her lithe and waifish looking frame does little to impress people upon first impression. In all reality she is rather plain looking at first glance. But once you actually take a look, you'll find that she is more of a subtle beauty than anything else.

Long curling red hair falls to her waist, though she tends to keep it in braids or up in a high ponytail. She loves her hair and will spend hours making sure that it lays just right before she goes out in public. It is her pride and joy. The idea of cutting it more than half an inch at a time fills her with panic and unbridled fury. So she doesn't ever try.

Framed by the thick locks, she has a rather round face. High cheekbones set underneath wide round eyes. Porcelain pale skin is stretched over her entire body, marred only by the smattering of freckles over her button nose. Thin brows arch delicately over her forehead and long lashes brush against her cheeks with each bat of her eyes.

Speaking of her eyes, that's the real thing that draws people in. At first glance they seem to be just an ordinary blue. Like the sky on a clear summers day. Or like the ocean water as the sun glances off of it, turning it a beautiful lapis color. But look closer. Let her look into your soul and you'll see that they aren't just blue. There is a ring of electric gold around the middle of them. Its not exactly clear why. No one else in her family has them. She reckons its got something to do with a physical manifestation of her magic. But she doesn't care.

Oh those eyes. They change as quickly and easily as any sky. When angry they turn a bright silver, filled with molten fire and a promise for retribution. When she cries, they turn dark as storm clouds, brimming with pain. When she's happy, they sparkle like a clear lake in the morning sun. No matter how expressionless her face is, watch her eyes. They will tell you when to run, and when to stay close.

Clothing wise, Tela doesn't really care what she wears. As long as they fit and she doesn't look and smell like a homeless person she is happy. She wears every color she can find, every style, in the proper ways and in ways that really shouldn't happen. But again, she doesn't care. The only thing she wears on a daily basis is her favorite pair of black combat boots. They are worn and scuffed, and she has mended the soles in them too many times to count. But they still get her from point A to point B with little to no issues.

Personality

Tela has had to work her way to the top at the school for mages. She has two jobs during the school year and three during the summer just so she can pay for tuition. Thank the Gods for dorms else she fears she wouldn't have been able to afford to attend classes if she had to pay rent on top of it all. She throws herself into her studies with the hunger of a dying man set before a feast. She absorbs information like a sponge placed in water.

Often times she burns herself out, but that doesn't stop her. She crashes for a few hours before getting back to the grind. This is her life. No friends. No hobbies. Nothing more than school and work. And she's fine with that. Because of this, there is a running bet that she doesn't even know how to smile. Its ludicrous really, just because she doesn't do it, doesn't mean she can't. She just sees no point in it. None what so ever.

She has been termed the spitfire of her year. Mostly because she doesn't put up with bullshit from anyone. She calls people out on their lies, puts bullies in their place, and she does it all with her silver tongue. Never once has she ever gotten into a physical altercation. She has never needed to. Why resort to fighting with your fists when you've got words that pierce just as deep and leave no visible wounds.

Backstory

Orphaned at the age of twelve, Tela spent six years in and out of foster homes. She has seen the worst of the system and the day she turned eighteen she fled, never looking back. She vowed that she would make sure she was never at that point in her life again. She applied to the best Magic school in the country, works her ass off to earn her place in the schools ranks, and won't let anyone tell her she can't become something she wasn't born to be.

I groaned with exhaustion as I moved to the seat I had claimed as my own in the back of my last class of the day. Magical History was the most boring class in the world, but it was a requirement for First Year college students to take it. Afterwards it was considered an elective. So I was not even remotely surprised that the entire lecture hall consisted of only first year students. Sighing I slumped into my seat, my bag thumping to the floor next to me.

I had been running on two hours of sleep for the three days, and it was finally starting to wear on me. There wasn't enough coffee or energy drinks in the world to help me wake up at this point and I was looking forward to finally being able to crash in my dorm room. I had already gotten my assignments done for the other classes, and Magical History was known for only having one project per semester, so I was in the clear for a good twelve hour nap.

With great trepadation I reached into my bag to grab my notebook and writing utensils, ready to brace myself for two hours of names, dates, and historical events I really couldn't care less about. I was at this school to learn how to cotrol my magic, not to hear about how a man from over three hundred years ago put a name on the unknown phenominon that had wound up with ten percent of the human population being able to control magic.

Students began to pour into the classroom, talking amongst themselves about assignments, friends, movies that recently came out, and things of such trivial matter it had my eyes rolling in exasperation. Seriously. Who cares if Trina B. is talking with the hot barista four blocks away from the school? What does that have anything to do with your father having an affair with the taxi driver on third street?