mr olymipa

There is a saying that goes, "It's not magic that makes a magician, but rather a touch of eccentricity." And nowhere is this more true than in the case of the eccentric of the Royal Academy of Magic. The Royal Academy of Magic is an esteemed institution that has been training wizards and witches for centuries. Every year, a select few are chosen to enter its hallowed halls and learn the ancient and mystical arts. And among this talented group, there is always one individual who stands out from the rest - the eccentric. The eccentric of the Royal Academy of Magic is not your typical student.

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Juliet Andrews has lived a past life that included drugs, partying, alcohol, sex, and everything else you could imagine, including her old flame, Ronnie Radke. Juliet Andrews has lived a past life that included drugs, partying, alcohol, sex, and everything else you could imagine, including her old flame, Ronnie Radke.

The eccentric of the Royal Academy of Magic is not your typical student. While others strive for perfection and adhere to the rigid rules and regulations of the academy, the eccentric marches to the beat of their own drum. They have a unique style of dress, often sporting vibrant and mismatched robes adorned with peculiar accessories.

Tragic nagic yattoo

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People always say, 'the past is gone', right? Wrong. Juliet Andrews has lived a past life that included drugs, partying, alcohol, sex, and everything else you could imagine, including her old flame, Ronnie Radke. Years have passed and things have ch.

Why Does This Have to Happen to Me?

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by TeamJacobLuvsMj Follow

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He already had his head leaned back, and had his eyes closed. He looked very peaceful. It was almost kind of cute . . . almost.
 
"Mhm." Was all I heard from him. I quickly but gently began to run the needle onto his skin. He slightly cringed when it first touched him, but relaxed again in the same second.
 
"So," I said, dipping the needle back in the ink, "your a rockstar, you're stereotypical, and you have anger issues. Is there more to you that I don't know about?" I asked casually.
 
I saw him glanced at me through the corner of my eye, though I didn't stop to look at him.
 
He either smirked or smiled, I couldn't tell. I was too focused.
 
"Why do you care? I'm just some guy who you can't stand."
 
"No you aren't. Today, you're my client, remember? I'm just trying to make small talk like I do with everyone else."
 
He sighed softly, "there's a lot more too me. But it'd take too long to explain."
 
I smiled and shook my head, "it's not like we haven't got the time . . ."
 
I felt him slightly shrug, "I guess we do . . . well, I'm twenty-seven, music is my life, I'm clean . . . I've got a dog named Charlie." He said the last part with a smile.
 
"Friends, girlfriend . . .?"
 
"My best friend is my girlfriend. She's an amazing woman. She's smart, funny, and sexy as hell . . ."
 
"Good deal," I said, with a slight disinterest. I wasn't jealous of Ronnie's girlfriend, I was just jealous of the way he described her to be. I wish someone would say that about me . . . I thought to myself. He brought me back out of my thoughts, "so what about you? You do anything in your spare time besides tattoo and be a bitch to me?"
 
I smirked, "but I don't have time for anything else! And bitching at you is the most fun I've been having since I came to California."
 
"Where were you before you came here?"
 
"I lived in Vegas right before this. But I grew up in Chicago."
 
"I used to live in Vegas too."
 
I glances up at him curiously when I finished the line I was doing, then looked back down and continued. I nodded my head.
 
"So how old are you?"
 
"Old enough that nothing's really illegal for me anymore." I said, laughing.
 
"Oh, so you drink?" I could hear the slight disgust in his voice.
 
I laughed again, "not avidly. Only on my birthday or a holiday."
 
"Drugs?"
 
"Used to . . . I'm never doing that again though."
 
I saw him look at me again, "yeah, I've been there too. Those were some of the worst years of my life."
 
I stopped to grab more ink. As I did, I looked at him, "we seem to have a lot more in common than I thought we would," I said, slightly smiling. He smiled back at me, a genuine smile. I kind of liked it.
 
"I guess so . . . maybe you aren't so bad after all."
 
I smirked, "you say that now . . . next time I see you, I bet you'll be back to normal."
 
"We'll see what happens," he said, winking at me. I shook my head and got back to work.
 
~ A Few Hours Later ~
 
Ronnie and I continued to talk throughout the tattooing process, and we got to learn a lot about each other. To be honest, Ronnie isn't that bad. I could see myself actually becoming friends with him as time progresses. I can't believe I'm saying that, but it's true.
 
I finished up his tattoo with a couple minor details, and then shut the tattoo machine off.
 
"You're all done for today. Come look at it."
 
He stiffly stood up and shook his body a bit before walking over to the full length mirror in the corner of the room. his eyes widened when he saw the tattoo.
 
"Whoa . . .This is amazing, Jules . . ." He spoke so softly, I wasn't even sure I heard him.
 
I turned my head towards him, "wait, what'd you call me?"
 
He seemed to get a bit nervous when I asked that, "oh, um, I said Julie."
 
I was actually a bit disappointed by that, "oh . . . sorry, it's just that I thought you said Jules, and only one person has ever called me that . . ." I drifted off. I think he was lying to me, though. This only made my mind have a flood of old memories, though I still can't remember who was with me. I stood there with my lips pursed until I heard my name again.
 
"Hm?" I answered.
 
"I said when can we do the color? I don't know how long I should wait on this one."
 
"Uh, we can do it sometime next month if that's cool. That's some of my best work, and I really want to finish it so I can add the picture to my portfolio."
 
He nodded in agreement, "sounds good to me." He then reached in his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. He grabbed a single bill, folded it up, and handed it to me.
 
"Thank you for the tattoo, I really appreciate it." He said, smiling at me again. For some reason, I felt my face heat up, and I knew I was blushing. I glanced down so he wouldn't be able to see my cheeks, and happened to look at the bill. it was a hundred dollars. I glanced back up at him, "Ronnie, I can take a hundred dollars from you. That's way too much," I said, holding the bill out to him. He held his hands up so I couldn't give it to him, "hey, you deserve it. And it's not really making that big of a dent in my wallet," he said, chuckling.
 
I stuck the money in my pocket, "well thank you, then."
 
After that, I grabbed some gauze from the counter and bandaged him up enough that it would protect his tattoo for a while.
 
"Thank you so much," he said, and unsuspectingly pulled me into a warm hug. After I realized what he was doing, I carefully wrapped my arms around him too.
 
There was something comforting and familiar about being in his arms. I can't explain it, but his hold was just so strong and warm . . . I didn't want him to let go.
 
Although he did pull away after only a few seconds, he still left me with a good feeling all throughout my body. I smiled at him. He smiled back softly.
 
"So I guess I'll see you around sometime then?" He asked me.
 
I smirked at him, "of course! I'm coming to your next rehearsal."
 
"You better not piss me off again," he joked. Though I could tell he was somewhat serious.
 
I shrugged, "no promises."
 
He rolled his eyes and laughed quietly. Then he reached over me and snatched a pen from my notebook. He grabbed my arm and scribbled something on my skin.
 
"What are you doing?" I asked him. He only spoke when he finished, "call me sometime. Maybe we can go hang out. Just us." He said, tossing my pen back where it came from.
 
I raised my eyebrows and gave him a questioning look, "I thought you said you had a girlfriend?"
 
"I do. It's not like we're going on a date though. We're just hanging out. I want to get to know you better. You're story doesn't piece together."
 
"Neither does yours." I snapped back in defense.
 
"Guess we have some explaining to do then," he said with a small smile.
 
"I guess we do . . ." I said smiling back at him.
 
He laughed, "I'll talk to you later then. Thanks again," he said. I watched him gather his things and wave at me as he walked out. I waved back just as he walked out the front door.
 
There's something about him . . . something . . . I can't explain. It's like I know him, but I know that I don't . . . Uh, why does life have to be so confusing?
 

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Their classroom performance is equally unconventional. Rather than following the prescribed curriculum, the eccentric prefers to explore uncharted territories of magic. They experiment with unusual spells and enchantments, always pushing the boundaries of what is deemed possible. This often leads to unexpected and sometimes chaotic results, much to the dismay of their professors. The eccentric is a character of contradictions. While they may seem aloof and absent-minded, their brilliance and creativity are unmatched. They possess an unyielding passion for magic and an insatiable curiosity for the unknown. This unorthodox approach to learning and discovery often leads to groundbreaking advancements in magical theory and practice. Despite their quirks and peculiarities, the eccentric is well-respected and admired by their peers. They serve as a reminder that magic is not just about rules and formulas, but about being true to oneself and following one's intuition. Their unbridled enthusiasm and unique perspective inspire others to think outside the box and consider new possibilities. In conclusion, the eccentric of the Royal Academy of Magic brings a touch of magic to an already magical world. Through their unconventionality and unrelenting pursuit of knowledge, they challenge conventions and redefine what it means to be a magician. They are a constant reminder that sometimes, it is the unconventional that leads to the extraordinary..

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