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Hi, this is my first time doing an interactive story here, so I hope you like it. -------------------------------------- Grace is a 25-year-old young witch. Quite young, since witches live for many years. And being so young makes Grace a novice when it comes to magic. She's pretty good at spells, but with potions... Not so much. And that's why Grace takes to making potions, to improve her skill of alchemy. Grace has long, blonde hair, her eyes are green. She has a slender and curvy figure, And she's also a little short, at 5'1 feet tall. That morning Grace had risen early as usual. She poured herself coffee and porridge for breakfast and then went to the room she used as an alchemy study. Grace really wanted to make a new potion, but she didn't want to see the potion book. No. She wanted to experiment and try something new. She knew it could have serious consequences if she mixed ingredients randomly, but what's life without a little risk? Grace decided to take mandrake, valerian root, an earth frog, toad slime, a cherry, and a few drops of a semi-transparent liquid. She mixed all the ingredients in a small cauldron with boiling distilled water. She stirred and stirred until an explosion of brown smoke came out. Grace was excited, and she wanted to try it out to see what effect it would have. But Grace felt she needed to add something else to the potion. She looked at the ingredients again and thought about which one to add. What ingredient should Grace add? A. Earth Frog (Nausea effect) B. Toad slime (Diarrhea effect) C. Mandrake (Laxative effect) D. Valerian root (Diuretic effect) E. Other (Specify which one and what effect it will have) -------------------------------------- Grace's Status: Bladder: 10% (Empty) Intestines: 0% (Empty)
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1 adventurer gets relief, while the other has to hold it
Bilingual guy posted a gallery image in Omorashi Artwork
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From the album: OmutsuSama´s Omorashi/ABDL Art
Fanart commission: Sabrina the teenage witch has an accident while playing basketball.© By OmutsuSama
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From the album: MissQueenShi Art
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🎃 Don't want to wet that Halloween costume, now do you? 🎃
Wildagram posted a gallery image in Omorashi Artwork
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From the album: Jonesing for Omo
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The Central Kingdom of Medius, ruled by the Divine King Medius, home to a rich city of wealthy socialites surrounding the royal castle. And also home to the slums beneath, far more populated and far dirtier, every road and building covered in filth and grime. In this impoverished ghetto, where no one asked questions, people of all types and trades from across the land of Remlia gathered, in search of their next gold pieces, however they’d earn them. It was a gathering of criminals, a hive of scoundrels, the gang for every walk of shady life. But, for most here, it was all they had. For better and worse, it was home. And the second home for all crooked characters is always the bar, whether to drown their sorrows, or to prop up false confidence for a future victory, either in the back alleys tonight, or out on the field tomorrow. All those who could most flatteringly be called self-proclaimed adventurers and soldiers filled the small tavern, filling their bellies with alcohol, growing louder and rowdier with every sip. The place was certainly alive. And that was without considering the ruckus caused by the pub’s second function: a central hub for those who deemed themselves capable fighters to take requests. It was on this business that brought a young woman, garbed in a short, short-sleeved black robe and black-and-green tabard, with white hair bound in five long, thick braids, into this establishment. As she leaned against a wall, slowly picking away at a mug of her own, she watched as several of the other patrons watched her with an animalistic gaze, it seemed like half the rough types in the bar couldn’t keep their eyes off. This wouldn’t be so unexpected, a beautiful lady alone in a questionable place attracting attention, but her observers studied her with scornful, hateful eyes. Even among a pack of miscreants like those in the slums, she somehow managed to be judged. They were right to be suspicious, for this woman was not a normal human. She could never pass as such, not with two green horns jutting from above her ears, and twin heads of the Astral Dragon Atruum extending from her back designating her as a Dragonblood, a reviled race among the populace of Remlia, who instead worshiped the Celestial, Primatus. And she was the Dragonblood Oracle, one from the distant past, sent forward to prevent a terrible calamity; one with her successor, Amica, at the center. Seeing as the Dragonblood Clan had already been massacred by the time she arrived, the fear that she had already failed kept residence in her mind. Yet, despite the looks she received everywhere she traveled within Remlia, the Oracle had a mission: an audience with the Divine King. That was the only way she would learn the reason for the genocide of the Dragonblood. To that end, she began taking as many requests as she could get her hands on, building a reputation until the royal family could no longer ignore her. That was why she was here today, with a lead on a new request. She just needed to wait for something before she could go out and fulfill it. Until then, her eyelids fell and her head drooped, and she began to daydream of the moment her life was forever changed, of when her destiny was laid before her: the moment she received her Dragon Scar. --------------- “Child of Our own blood, you stand before Us,” spoke a deep, booming voice, echoing throughout every wall of these caverns. Despite coming into the Dragon’s Den, knowing what awaited her, the young Oracle still inched back. “We are the Astral Dragon, Atruum. Thou seeketh a contract with Us, dost thou not? Mine power has five elements, for thine abilities will change in accordance with thine element. Now, present Us with thine Dragonite.” The Oracle held a small stone to the ceiling, a rare element known as Dragonite. Yet, despite the power circulating in the air, she felt nothing from the offering. That is, until she naturally blinked. When her eyes opened once again, the ore chunk had vanished, and the roaring voice began anew. “Thine contract is accepted. Which element shalt thou accept?” Which element shall the Oracle take? Fire. The Oracle shall be hot-tempered, impulsive, and proud. Ice. The Oracle shall be cold-hearted, quiet, and reserved. Wind. The Oracle shall be air-headed, clumsy, and open. Lightning. The Oracle shall be quick-witted, hasty, and eager. Poison. The Oracle shall be sharp-tongued, rude, and dismissive.
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From the album: PeeFolio
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From the album: PeeFolio
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From the album: PeeFolio
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From the album: PeeFolio
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From the album: PeeFolio
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Introducing my latest character, a fledgling witch named Rebecca! I hope you enjoy! Only the soft trickle of fading sunlight through the windows gave any indication of time’s passage within the library. A comforting silence and stillness existed among the books, only to be occasionally interrupted by the scratching of pen on paper, or the flutter of a flipped page. In one corner sat a young dark-haired woman dressed in a witchy asthetic. She hurriedly jotted down notes in her journal. Across the table she occupied were dozens of reference books stacked in little piles and pushed aside for her real prize, a small book collecting references to esoteric rituals and mediation techniques recorded across history. The woman—Rebecca—however, understood what the author of the book did not. One of the particularly elaborate rituals documented in the book was more than a simple method to collect one’s self. It was a spell. Perhaps she could not decipher the incantation that thee author left untranslated, but she recognized the cadence and the power the words held. The methodical hand and finger movements, likewise, were more than just gestures to focus the individual “on the moment.” They were casting a spell. Rebecca smirked at the author’s naivete. Perhaps the only useful thing the author had accomplished, beyond publishing something far greater than she could understand, was shedding some light on what the spell would to accomplish. While the author, for whatever reason, chose not to translate the “ritual’s” incantation, they did note that the ritual’s purpose was to provide the participant with peace of mind. Perhaps the spell was some sort of safety charm or defensive magic. Or maybe it will pay my bills. Rebecca mused to herself. Once she had finally completed transcribing the spell into her journal, Rebecca felt herself tingle with excitement. She couldn’t contain herself. She needed to try out the spell immediately, see what new magic she had stumbled upon. Rebecca also felt something else. Alright, spell first, and then I can use the little witch’s room. She drummed her fingers on the table softly, pressed her feet firmly into the ground, and readied herself to cast. “Excuse me,” A pleasant voice rang out from behind Rebecca. “The library is closing. If you can please exit the building, I will take care of your books for you.” Startled, Rebecca turned to face a middle-aged woman with light hair tied up in a neat bun. The librarian had a mask of kindness on her face to match her warm, if insincere, voice. She waited patiently for Rebecca to gather her things. Okay, well, I guess no spell and no bathroom. That’s Okay. I just… will walk home and try it there. “Oh, okay. Sorry for keeping you.” Rebecca apologized. She shoved her notebook into a backpack before slinging the back across her shoulder. “Oh, it’s no trouble.” The librarian smiled. Despite her performance, Rebecca could tell the librarian wasn’t thrilled to clean up after Rebecca. Still, it was business as usual, as far as Rebecca could tell. Once outside, Rebecca began to understand the gravity of her situation. She bit her lip softly. Rebecca inhaled through her nose, shutting her eyes for a moment, she mentally geared herself for the journey home. “Alright, let’s go.” She began walking down the sidewalk, her gait somewhat stiff and awkward. Okay. Okay. Okay. I am NOT going to pee my pants. I am definitely going to make it home. It’s only a twenty-minute walk. I can do that. I mean, five minutes ago I didn’t even notice that I needed to use the bathroom. So… uh… what was I thinking. Rebecca’s walking was beginning to resemble something more akin to arrhythmic dancing with irregularly paced and eratic steps. Alright, new idea. Distract myself again. Think about the spell. The spelly spell. Um… no! Come on. Rebecca curled her fists tightly. So uh, it’s not a combative spell. The incantation is too long, too many hand movements. And it’s not an actual ritual; it’s too short and doesn’t really require any materials or circumstances to be cast. It has to do with um peace of mind. I could REALLY use some peace of mind right now. It wasn’t so much a conscious decision as much of a compulsion for Rebecca when her fingers began to mimic the diagrams she had copied from the book. Not unlike a maestro conducting an orchestra, her hands moved through the air in steady, precise movements. Sparks of light bounced off her dancing fingers. In a soft, somewhat sing-songy voice she spoke the words of the incation. She wasn’t sure what she was saying; couldn’t even pinpoint what language she was speaking. Slavic maybe? It didn’t matter. She didn’t strictly need to know what she was saying to cast the spell. Knowing would undoubtedly help the process but right now she just needed to cast. She REALLY needed to cast. Deliberation was only one aspect of casting. Incantation and hand positioning were just as vital to performing magic, and in lieu of a clear goal, they would have to carry Rebecca through the spell. Besides, there some vague sense of what the spell would accomplish. Rebecca also had a hope for what the spell would accomplish. She hoped it would keep her dry. The last words of the spell passed between Rebecca’s lips, her hands moved into the final position, finishing the spell. The spell should have cast. Why didn’t the spell cast? Throughout the spell, Rebecca had felt the familiar build-up of magic: first in her chest, then spread through her body, racing through her arms like lightning. She had seen the energy of the spell ripple from her hands, crackle off her fingertips, and sizzle in the air between movements. Then at the last moment, it died. There was no release. No final eruption of magic bursting out of her hands like fireworks. “What the hell?” Rebecca demanded from nobody in particular. “God damn it!” Immediately she began again. Vague—possibly Slavic—words in a sing-song voice. Light bouncing from fingertips, dancing in the air. She nurtured the energy that crackled inside her chest, let it grow and spread within her, coaxed it to travel down her arms, begged it to exit her, and enter the world. The spell declined. She began again. And again. And again. With each failure, her desperate fervor grew, more and more she pushed herself to perform, to bend the fundamental nature of the world to her whims. Each effort ended the same. Very quickly, Rebecca’s desperation had less and less to do with her full bladder. Her dancing began to descend into waddling, and she openly grabbed herself between attempts. She didn’t care. Or rather she didn’t notice. Her body was regulating itself, waging war independent of her awareness. Her focus was on finding the flaw in the spell, not making sure she didn’t look like a fool in public. It was a miracle she didn’t just let go. It’s not a requirement thing. There were no requirements specified. I mean, the author didn’t even translate the incantation, so maybe he left out three tablespoons of eye of newt or… god damn it! They can’t do this to me. The spell has to be complete. This has to work. It isn’t fair! Rebecca’s hand movements became more and more sloppy. Her efforts to cast the spell were rushed; practically spitting out the words, an extra edge to how she enunciated, her movements a little more forceful in their execution. She balled her fists till her knuckles turned white between attempts and stomped her feet in frustration. Why the hell wasn’t the spell working? Her mind raced a mile a minute, but not towards troubleshooting the spell; instead, it echoed bitter sentiments towards the author and things she’d like to do to pay them back for this cruel trick. Rebecca bit back the urge to scream. There was no longer a finesse to how she performed the spell. It was more akin to a monkey at a typewriter trying to write a novel. Perhaps if there were an infinite amount of Rebeccas, they’d manage to cast the spell. But there was not an infinite amount of Rebeccas. There was one, and she couldn’t figure out the damn spell. She could barely keep from wetting herself, even if she wasn’t entirely conscious of that fact. By the time Rebecca made it to her apartment, she must have completed hundreds of permutations of the spell. However, many of the last few attempts were more or less the same exact effort just with increasing frustration and bitterness behind the words and movements. She stumbled through her door with one hand buried in her crotch. She was barely cognizant of taking off her shoes. One more try. It has to work. I’m so close. Rebecca managed to draw back the acid in her voice as she recited the incantation, move with a little more grace and a little less anger. This time the spell was going to work. It had to work. She didn’t know what she was saying, but Rebecca spoke the words as if she was commanding the world to shift around her, bend to her will, and do something spectacular. The energy flowed through her, traveled down her arms, her palms tingled as the spell approached its climax. She spoke the final word. The spell left Rebecca’s body with a shudder, her eyes fluttered, and she sighed deeply, swooning slightly. The air was electric. Goosebumps ran down her arms and legs, the hair on the back of her neck stood up, her eyes struggled to focus for a moment. The spell finally cast, and the frustration she felt washed away in an instant. She couldn’t help but smile. …What did the spell do? There wasn’t a flash of light or puff of smoke. There wasn’t even a sudden flock of doves or a rabbit crawling out of a hat. Rebecca had absolutely no idea what she just did. Maybe she had an invisible forcefield now? Or perhaps that spell really did just give you peace of mind. Except she didn’t feel very peaceful. In fact… “Oh my god.” Rebecca collapsed to her knees. She had already had one hand in her crotch, but she quickly added her second hand to the effort, an epic battle for the dryness of her panties. She bounced on her knees to regain her composure. Without the distraction of her frustration or wonder, she was suddenly very conscious of how close she was to losing control, which was very close. A groan escaped her lips. She hadn’t noticed how rapidly she had grown desperate on the walk home. She hadn’t noticed how often her hand found itself tucked between her legs after each attempt, nor had she noticed how often she stopped to cross her legs, bend over at the waist, bounce up and down while trying to piece together what was inhibiting the spell. She didn’t even notice when the twenty-minute walk had nearly run her an hour. Now all she could do was notice. Notice how her bare midriff bulged and pressed against her suddenly very tight denim shorts, and how incredibly painful that pressure was. Notice how every fiber of her being begged for sweet relief, how the agonizing blockage preventing the spell from releasing was now echoed by the raging river that raced to the end of her peehole only to be stopped short of relief, raging waves now beating angrily at the barrier between the ocean inside her and her dry underwear. It consumed all her focus, just like the spell she had done moments before. Rebecca mustered every ounce of strength she could to struggle to her feet. Both hands stayed glued to her crotch while she waddled to her bathroom. She didn’t run through the door because she could barely hobble, but she hobbled as fast as she could towards her porcelain savior. Relief was within reach. She reached the threshold of the bathroom, tears in her eyes, and bounced backward with a crash. Rebecca’s panties weren’t quite dry anymore. Her fingers dug into the skin between her thighs, and her body rocked on its side in an effort to stop the hot rush of wetness spreading in her underwear. She managed to stem the flow, but just barely. It took her a few moments to be secure in that, though. Even longer to work her way back up to her feet. She hobbled towards the doorway and leaned her forward against the air between her and the bathroom. She met resistance. A force kept her from the bathroom. “What?” Her eyes were wild, panicked. Then it dawned on her. “Right, right. The spell, it uh, solidified air?” How does that give me peace of mind exactly? Rebecca pressed her shoulder against the invisible barrier and tried to push hard enough to force it open. It didn’t work. No amount of force seemed to gain entry. “Okay. What the hell? Let me in, Damn it!” Rebecca dared to withdraw a single hand to bang against the barrier. The barrier did not respond. “Okay. New plan.” Rebecca waddle marched to her kitchen to grab a knife. “I’m going to rip you to shreds.” She wiggled her hips and curled her toes before plunging her knife into the doorway. The blade didn’t pierce the barrier; instead, the barrier deflected the knife, and Rebecca narrowly missed accidentally stabbing her thigh. A spurt of pee escaped her. “You can’t keep me out of my own bathroom, damn it!” What was the trick to this spell? Was there a magic word she needed to end it? How long would it take for her to figure out what the word was? Rebecca wasn’t going to last much longer, let alone long enough to figure out how to dispel the barrier. She crossed her legs tightly, shaking from side to side. A quick flourish of her free hand created a bright ball of blue light, burning with energy. She felt herself begin to lose control. She had to break that barrier down NOW. The ball of light lurched forward, crashing into the barrier. The walls shuddered with the collision, but the energy only seemed to ripple across the barrier impotently. No! “No!” The raging ocean inside her escaped her body with a shudder. A golden shower rained out beneath her, splattering on her carpet, soaking into the fibers. Rivers of hot pee drizzled down her legs snaking across the inside of her thighs, dancing along the backside of her calves. Her tights glistened with her wetness. The hand she left holding herself was saturated with the rush of pee gushing between her fingers. She wasn’t holding anything back. Rebecca collapsed to her knees, letting the last of her bladder’s contents trickle out of her. She rested her forehead against the barrier in defeat. All the defiance and strength had left her body. She had emptied herself of pee and ideas. “It’s my bathroom. Just let me in.” She pleaded. “Please.” Rebecca suddenly lurched forward; the resistance of the barrier no longer present. She found her face pressed against the cold tile of her bathroom floor. She had finally gotten in. “Are you kidding me?” She screamed. I really hope you enjoyed this story! I had a lot of fun writing it and coming up with this new character. I actually posted a drawing of Rebecca wetting in my art thread if you'd like to check that out. Anyway let me know what you think!
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From the album: Jailor Eckman's Hoard
Another Commission from @Hyde! This is based on what I think was a Halloween comic that didn't end in wetting (though it looked to be heading in that direction)... so here it is! (With some details changed, as usual!) Anyway, hopefully that explains the out-of-season witch imagery! 😅 -
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The Scarlet Witch was considered to be one of the most powerful Avengers, and she knew it. Wanda Maximoff didn't even know herself the limits of her powers and what she could fully do with them, but she knew they were awesome. After the battle in Sokovia, Wanda had mixed emotions. Settling into a near military facility that the Avengers base was was a bit difficult for her. Vision flying through walls, Captain America's motivational speeches, Black Widow being difficult to be friends with all created a hard environment for her to fit in. But Natasha Romanoff being the only other female under the roof, she definitely wanted to find a way to be friends. Maybe Natasha felt threatened by how powerful Maximoff was, or maybe she just flat out didn't like her - but Natasha had barely even breathed in her direction since she joined the team. 5:00 A.M., Avengers Upstate Facility Early morning fighting simulations were probably Wanda's least favorite thing to do. She had to exert herself enough, but not too much so that she seriously hurt one of her teammates, and stay heavily hydrated. Wanda woke up extra early this morning to try and enjoy a bit of the morning before the exercise took place. The facility kitchen was completely empty as she walked in, turned on the light and set up some tea. In the far room across the kitchen was Natasha sitting at her desk surfing her computer. "I did not expect to see you up so early," Wanda said in her light eastern European accent. "Work around here never ends, you know that by now," Natasha replied, almost if to say 'leave me alone.' "Right,," Natasha replied, hearing the kettle starting to boil. She poured her tea and returned to her room. 2 HOURS LATER.. Scarlet Witch was three water bottles deep and one cup of tea, and she could feel it during the simulation fight. Her distraction was making her slip up in combat where the Avengers were split in teams. Wanda, Natasha and Captain America got to take on Rhodey, Falcon and Vision. Falcon had been eliminated early, taking too many hits in their team death match styled simulation. Natasha got to go hand to hand with Rhodey, which you think would've been an easy fight for him in his suit, but she proved pretty creative - and Cap was doing his best to disarm Vision, which wasn't going well for him. Wanda stood there, trying to figure out where she should be - but she couldn't help but shift from foot to foot a little. "Wanda! Need an assist!" Cap yelled out, a little agitated as Vision caught his shield in an attempt to knock Vision down from a flying position. Wanda snapped out of it, exerting a bit too much of her telekinetic power throwing Vision to the ground hard. She doubled over a little bit, feeling that shock through her body and causing her to bite her lip. Cap looked back at her, his expression as if to say not cool. The simulation went on another 45 minutes - with every minute Wanda growing more uncomfortable. Wanda could of said something, maybe asked for a quick pause - but herself being the new girl? Not a chance did she want to embarrass herself in front of the Avengers for a bathroom break. Cap rounded off the training exercise with a little pep talk and offering the team advice on things they could've done better on. At this point, Wanda was barely paying attention. She was far more focused on not wetting her leather pants in front of her new team mates. She stood as still as she could with her thighs pressed together hard. Finally, after what felt like decades of Cap talking, he adjourned their meeting. Wanda found herself speed walking to the washroom - the nearest one in the huge facility close to her bedroom. She didn't pay attention to what the other Avengers were up to, she just had far more important things to deal with here. As she walked the long corridor, she paused for a split second. 'D-Did I just leak?' Wanda thought to herself. She could feel the tiny bit of warmth and definite wetness in her underwear. She bit her lip once again, trying to avoid holding herself in the middle of the corridor, but she couldn't resist. Wanda held her crotch for the duration of the walk, luckily not passing by any staff or worse - Avengers. Finally, she neared the bathroom - the door closed. 'God dammit. I shouldn't swear. you never know what Cap can hear and what he can't.' Wanda thought to herself. She stood outside the bathroom door, cursing herself for not exploring the facility enough to know where the other bathrooms are. She entered the kitchen while waiting, and to her surprise Natasha greeted her. "Good work today, Maximoff," Natasha said a little coldly drinking a cup of tea. "T-Thanks, you as well. It was pretty cool to see you take down War Machine like that," Wanda replied back. Natasha smiled, and to Wanda's horror - Natasha held up a second cup. "I think it's the way you like it - two sugar, two cream?" Natasha said, a bit more friendly. "Y-Yes, that's.. that's how I take it. Thank you," Wanda said, shivering a bit as she took a small sip of the tea. "Are you alright?" Natasha said, a little concerned noticing Wanda's inability to stand still and her stutters. "I'm fine! Just a bit tired - got up too early. Still getting used to the whole.. boot camp thing," Wanda said, obviously lying through her teeth. "Yeah, Rogers runs us hard, but it's all for a reason. Our enemies won't be as kind to you in the field as we are in practice. I just wish Tony would invest in a second bathroom in this half of the building," Natasha said a little jokingly. 'Wait, is she saying there was one where I came from? God dammit.." "It would be kind of nice..." Wanda said back, feeling herself leak again. "I don't know what Vision does in there, but he sure takes his time," Natasha laughed. Wanda gave her a shaky smile back, trying to figure out her situation. She couldn't make it all the way to the other side of the facility, and lord knows what Vision is doing, but she wasn't going to be the Avenger begging at the bathroom door. TO BE CONTINUED.
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Hi! I've been kind of inactive/lurking for a year at this point, mostly due to work and other situations, but I want to try and be around more! I decided I would try my hand at writing an interactive story, because it looked fun! Instead of simply choosing the path, you (the reader) actually have a role to play in the story! Holly, a young witch attending a magical academy, has procrastinated for far too long, and has now allowed herself to become possessed by spirits (that's you!) in an attempt to cheat at a test. What she doesn't realize is that the voices in her head might not like helping a random girl with a test, and that they can also have an influence on her choices. Enjoy! --- This was a bad idea. This was a really bad idea, and Holly was probably being incredibly stupid right now, but a) to this rambunctious, daring young witch, there were no bad ideas, and b) at this point, she really didn't have any other option anyway. Her magical theory test was in two days, and she hadn't studied yet. At all. Look, say what you will about her work ethic, but being yelled at isn't going to get her out of this mess. She's been missing homework the entire semester, and spending too much time daydreaming and reading when she should have been studying, and now she's completely unprepared for a test worth thirty percent of her final grade for the year. It's not like it's her fault! She just, has a really hard time paying attention! And, actually summoning the drive to work. But still, this is going to make the difference between whether she ends up as an arch-mage or a cauldron scrubber, and. Naturally. She had only started caring two days ago. This was a good decision that nobody had any reason to regret at all, oh no. ...Which was why she was currently surrounded by a magic circle, attempting to summon spirits. Remember how I said bad idea? This is the bad idea. Holly figured that if she were to summon, say, two or three magical spirits (bad idea), and willingly let them possess her (bad idea), then they could simply learn all the theory for her, and whisper it back telepathically during the test, yes? Bad idea. Also illegal. But that wasn't going to stop a desperate little witch with no respect for the rules, so here she is, already reciting the necessary incantations from a book taken from the parts of the archives students weren't even allowed in. "Let's see... um, was it, aminus, or... um, no, wait, animus, I think-" And doing a beautiful job of it too, clearly. Eventually, however, it appeared she had done something right, because the circle glowed, and she suddenly felt her head filled with... far too much company. "A-ah! What's, what's all of..." she gasped, clutching at the sides of her head as it was suddenly flooded with voices. Thoughts that weren't hers, faint sentences in her mind, desires and motives that weren't her own, and... okay, she needed to take a moment here. "All of you, shush! Please be quiet!" And then silence, which she was very grateful for. This was... way more than just two or three spirits, so... she screwed up somewhere, but she could work with this! Definitely. "Alright, listen up! I've got a big test coming up in two days, and if I don't get it right I'm kissing my entire life goodbye at fifteen! So I've got you all in my head to learn all the answers for me so I don't have to! We'll look over the books later on tonight, okay? But for now, I've gotta go to class, so you've gotta let me think! Now..." --- Holly currently stands in her dorm room by herself, with a number of spirits now sharing her mind. She's wearing purple star pajamas, yesterday's white and pink polka-dot panties, and her glasses, slightly magnifying drowsy green eyes. Her curly brown hair is a mess, owing to the fact that she's just woken up, and for the same reason, she is hungry and has a mild urge to pee. The spirits now sharing her mind are able to affect her choices. They act as a sort of hivemind, and the general consensus of them will cause her thoughts to sway. She won't notice that she's being manipulated and freak out - to her, it will mostly feel like random compulsions. You, as the spirits, control her decisions, whether for better or worse! Moods: > Comply with Holly's orders, and help her get ready for the day. You can do a favor for such a cute girl! > Be mad! Who does this girl think she is, huh? You won't do anything for her! If she was stupid enough to put you in her head, then she can suffer your wrath! > Be subtle. You're mad at this girl asking you to bow to her every whim, but you won't let it show. Maybe you'll pretend to comply, and play a few tricks on her. That'll be fun. Possible options: > Get dressed > Eat > Drink > Use the bathroom > Fix her hair > Put away ritual equipment > Prepare for class > Go to class on time > Go to class late > Skip class You don't have to pick one of the options, or post it word-for-word, or anything. They are simply guidelines and suggestions, unless stated otherwise. The general consensus will shine most brightly, but if the opinion is divided, this will also show in Holly's choices. You also don't have to pick just one! Pick all of the things you think apply to the situation, unless stated otherwise. (That being said, do try not to pick too many things at once, I may struggle a little! Don't worry about ignoring fine choices if you don't think it's a good time yet - they might show up again later, so prioritize the most important/urgent things!)
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