<div class="floatleft">(http://i1263.photobucket.com/albums/ii625/RainbowRian/859aafe2-6718-44f4-86cd-67e3d8cfe9df.jpg)</div><table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td><strong>Character Name</strong>: <em>Theodore "Theo" Belvedere</em><br/><strong>Who:</strong> <em>The Witches of Robichaux's Academy</em><br/><strong>Where:</strong> <em>Robichaux's Academy - Outside</em><br/><strong>When: </strong> <em><em>Friday, 13th of June</em></em></td></tr></tbody></table><hr/><br/>Theo chewed the plastic and rubber end of his mechanical pencil, as he poured himself over the Latin of an old, coven spell book.  He wanted to know what he was in for as far as trials went, and researched the tasks themselves.. and the noted the times noted in coven history that mentioned the Trials.  The task that He was less familiar with, and that creeped him out the most, was Descensum.  Descensum was the decent into hell.  But it wasn't just any hell, or any generic version of it.  It was your own, personal, hell.<br/><br/>According to the journals and archives of the Coven,  It wasn't the most difficult task, falling second to Vitalum Vitalis, but it was a task few could complete.  To him it seemed to weed out the weak, and those who did make it were lucky.  Because if one did not make it back from their "hell"  before sunrise.  They turned to dust and vanished in the breeze.  Each task sounded Easy.. mostly.  But he knew there was more to it, and more danger, so he had every intention on studying up.<br/><br/>All of the sudden, Theo's thoughts were broken by a soft knock at his bedroom door.  Devin seemed nervous as he rushed in, to rush out.  He mentioned his thanks, and washing his shirt before turning to leave.<strong>"Hey hey woah woah hey..  You didn't have to wash that, but thanks.  Heck, you didn't even have to return it if you didn't want too.  Why are you rushing off?"</strong>He asked, just noticing he had grabbed the young man's hand to keep him from escaping.  Due to his emerged power, Devin would hear no thoughts but his own.  Not even the whisper of a thought or spirit, as though he had no powers.