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?

Thankfully the professor entered the classroom shortly after the trio of girls, silencing them with a look as he moved to the front, steppig up onto the stage. He waited for a minute before doing roll call. I had tuned the girls out, focusing instead on the sketch I was working on for my remedial arts class. So I didn't hear Professor Reich calling my name until someone elbowed me in the ribs. I looked up, blinking owlishly as the professor met my eye sternly. "You with us Miss Mazekin? Or shall I continue without you."

Red colored my cheeks as I chewed my lip, glancing around the room I found dozens of eyes locked on me. "Sorry sir." I said, clearing my throat as I sat straigher in my desk, refusing to let everyone see how embarassed I actually was. The professor kept his eyes locked on me for another few breaths before he continued calling out names. As he did so, he used one hand to pull up a slideshow on the large TV screen behind him showing the general description of the lesson for the day. I set to work, writing down the daily objective and the vocab words to look out forin the reading.

One by one the students turned away from me and the heat faded from my face as I busied myself getting ready for the lecture. According to the board and the syllabus we would be going over the fifty year war between Masique and Urastis at the beginning of the Magical Recognition Period.

I groaned silently as the Professor announced the start of the group project that was being assigned this semester. "You will be working in groups of two on a subject of your choosing. As long as it has some significance to magical history then it won't matter what it is you're writing about. The project is due the last day of the semester. You choose how you present it, be it a skit, powerpoint, or just standing up here reading a piece of paper."

He turned around and began to write names on the board. "You have until class tomorrow to find your partner, if you haven't found one by then, I will assign one to you. Now that that's done with, onto the lesson. Yesterday we discussed the initial discovery of Wild Magics, but now we are discussing the war that started shortly after its naming, and how it led to the laws we face today."

I listened with half an ear, jotting down notes as he began reading from the book on the lecturne in front of him, as I tried to figure out who I wanted to be partnered with. My eyes scanned the class slowly, taking in the way a few students were paying attention, their own hands flying over their notebooks, to the kids at the far end of the room sat whispering and passing notes to one another. I didn't want to end up with someone who was going to leave the entire project on my head.

I had too much on my plate to handle a semester long assignment on my own. On top of all that, I was ranked in the top ten for first years in school, my grades being among the best. I didn't want to jeopardize all that because some rich toff decided it would be easier to slack off and let daddy pay for another term of summer school, than to do any actual work. Nope. Not going to put up with it.

My eyes fall on a rather tall and muscular man sitting further down. I can just barely see the profile of his face as he listens to the Professor. Dark brown hair tousled like he had just gotten out of bed or stepped in from a windstorm curtaining his features too much for me to see much of his face. I didn't know anything about him really. It was no surprise, I didn't make a point of talking to people if I didn't have to. As class drew to a close I wrote down three descriptors in my notebook. 'Spectacles. Bottle-blonde. Rats nest.' Three mental nicknames used to keep track of the three people I thought might be best to partner with.

Spectacles was the rather skinny, mousy looking boy in the front row. He had sandy brown hair and large round glasses perched atop his nose. Bottle-blonde was the girl sitting a few seats over from me, with platinum blonde hair and long red nails. She seemed a bit pretentious at first glance, but I could see the detail of her notes from where I sat. And Rats nest was the tall man that had caught my attention in my first scan of the room. I resolved myself to check in with the three of them to see if they were available to talk about partnering up.

My attention was pulled from my notes by the sound of a rich voice, laced with slight concern, notes of pleading filling the air as 'Rats nest' spoke up, his hand raised slightly, fingers curled at the first knuckle, as if he had started to raise his hand fully and decided not to. Whispers broke out slightly around the classroom at his request for an extension on the partnering part of the project. While I could see where he was coming from and couldn't deny there was some truth in what he said, a small part of me was annoyed that he couldn't wait until the end of class before asking.

Professor Reich gave him a long, studying look, his fingers tapping lightly on the lecturne as the students refocused on him. "Very well then. But not a week. The more time you have to work on the project the better." He said, reaching over to the calander on his desk and looking at it. "I'll give you until the end of the allotted transfer date, which is next Tuesday. Students will not be allowed to switch out of classes or rearange their schedules at that point. It will give you four days to find a partner, is that agreeable to you Mister Hemera?"

A muscle was twitching slightly in the older man's temple. Apparently he believed the question could have waited until the end of class too. Idly I scratched out the words 'Rasts nest' im my notebook. No way in hell was I willingly going to partner with someone who had just put himself on the professor's radar. Reich didn't give the man a chance to respond, simply turned back around and began the lesson.

Shaking my head in mild annoyance I returned to my notes, my cheek propped up tiredly on my hand. Only an hour left until I could crash in my bed at the dorms. I was already craving it, and the daunting task of this project was only making my room seem more and more inviting.