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Sky did indeed tend to study in the study room, but it was not the typical studying for classes that Sky was here for today. She had brought her tarot cards for a small readings she always felt a bit odd just breaking them out when she had the urge to do so, but she always did because it would nag her till she did. Now for some reason it had to be in the middle of her very important studying for an exam.
She managed to pull the old but still in pristine conditioned cards out of its safe place within her cloth from her bag. They were a gift from her mother in, which was very special, her mother told her that you should always be kind enough to gift someone their first set it makes the deck special and more in tune with its workings. Sky had felt herself almost shoot out of her room the moment she had received the deck she had been so happy. She remembered her first reading and how it felt so magical and helpful, then she remembered the many times it was not so good using the deck how she struggled with the meanings of the cards. But she smiled now because she was a lot better at it now with all the practice she has put into it and well  the fact that the deck never once let her not doing a reading. It would always call to Sky for us like it knew something she didn’t and it almost always did like now. So Sky set to work with her usual spread and begin to wonder what the deck had so urgently had to say to her.
Last edited by John Johns on 1st July 2018, 11:47 pm, edited 2 times in total. Reason: Inactive

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While rushing from the crowd on the stairs, she walks into the study room to get some time and peace of mind. She turns around from the door and lets out a yelp of surprise as she sees a girl sitting there. She walks to the farthest corner from the door and sits down in darkness and lays head on the wall while letting out a sigh of relief. People have never liked her, so being in a room with only one other stranger was nothing compared to other things she's experienced. Verla avoids all contact with the stranger in the room.

When finding out that her nervousness restricted her from speaking, she pulled out a piece of paper and her latest pen from the muggle world. She hid her protection rune tattoo on her arm with her sleeve, cursing her mother for making her get it. Thanks mom She thought to herself. People might begin to think I belong in the Slytherin house with this thing on my arm When she began to think of her mother while drinking some sugar high coffee, she relaxed a bit and began to write to her on her first day and then tried to think of her schedual, not knowing where to find it.

"What cannot be seen, felt, or carried?" Person who gets this right I will donate some money to them.

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It'd been quite the busy, stressful day for the young Hufflepuff until this point in time. He's spent the last half an hour or so pacing and trying to seek out this specific room to look over his material, maybe get a headstart so that he could advance quicker in his classes and score a few house points for his impressive knowledge. He was just an over-achiever like that, spurred on by his ambitions to make his father proud as he lay beneath the earth. Asher shifted his books to lay more comfortably in his arms, so that they wouldn't fall and make a fool of him, as they'd already been slipping. Why he's bothered carrying them in such a taxing way, and for so long, was beyond him- he could have just tucked them away, but he had the idea that he'd find the study sooner. Alas, he hadn't, and now he's perspiring underneath the wisps of deep, chocolate brown that sweep over his forehead. First and foremost, he knows he needs to rid himself of the weight cradled between his thin limbs. So, at long last, he enters the little research facility, a since of urgency to the way he crosses over to a lonely nook in the corner and drops the novels haphazardly onto the tabletop. Just in time, too. He was about to drop them! Merlin's beard, that was a close one. He gives a sigh into his thought, soon thereafter pulling out his seat and cozying up in it as he organizes the literature into their rightful subjects, plucking one from the piles. He is, quite literally, up to the neck in his work. He chooses to read through a couple sentences before peeking up from the page, and, oh, there are people in here. Admittedly, he feels a little guilty for going out of his way for this corner spot, but to be fair, he was in such a hurry when he came in here.. and he would have been too timid to approach either of his housemates, anyways. The handsome, freckle-faced first year directs his attention to the text once more, keeping his mouth shut despite better judgement and shattering his hopes of making a potential friend, teal orbs centering in on his last sentence.

~Lundell~

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Verla had looked at the new boy, she'd never seen him before. Her bowtruckle narrowed his eyes on him as he sat on her shoulder while she struggled how she was going to create a 20line rpg for one of her classes. She looked at him and figured she needed a break, so she got out her piece of paper, wrote HI on it, and walked over to him and handed it to him with a smile. Trying not to come off creepily, her smile quickly disappeared when he looked at her, maybe this was a bad idea. She turned around to walk back to her spot. 

She wished she could disappear, embarrassing her self like that. Everyone must think I'm a mute when I'm just shy. Coming to this school was a mistake. She thought silently to herself. She hoped she didn't come off as strange, that was the last thing she needed. She quickly sat down in her seat and hid her face with her arms laid on the table. She felt like she was becoming sick with anxiety. What was she going to say if he said he didn't like her, or just didn't feel like talking? She didn't know.

"What cannot be seen, felt, or carried?" Person who gets this right I will donate some money to them.

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Likewise, sir Lundell had never met Verla -he's very new here, much like his author-, and that was, quite rightfully, the source of a majority of his pent up anxiety right now. As a habit of releasing this energy he has festering within his person, he's taken to quietly tapping his shoe's heel against the floor. Not enough to disturb the others or be annoying, but enough to relieve him. Adding to the noise of his own rapping, was the footfall of the approaching Hufflepuff, and he couldn't help but to glance over the black cover of his book as she slipped him... a note? He fought a tiny smile and ultimately lost. It turned out, he wasn't a total loser after all. Someone wanted to talk to him! '𝐻𝑒𝓁𝓁𝑜.' He scrawled, in messy, yet gorgeous cursive, nearly faultless in its execution, before pushing out of his chair and delivering the paper back to the girl with tentative strides. He returns back to his seat afterward, with a lingering grin on his face, as he buries himself back in his reading. Sure, he could have just spoken to her, used his voice, but he was trying to keep up with the whole note passing shtick. The seat beside him in that cozy cranny is just so empty and inviting, so one could only hope this encounter went well.

~Lundell~

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Verla smiled at his note. She looked back at him, gathered her things, and sat next to him. She wrote on the piece of paper Do you mind if I sit here? She smiled kindly and in an adorable and innocent way. Being the way she was, maybe sitting next to him would make her more comfortable to talk. She moved closely toward him, but not in a weird way "I'm Verla" she said very softly, almost in a whisper, but loud enough for him to hear her. Maybe she could make friends with this boy, since he has yet to introduce herself. Her bowtruckle smiled at him kindly, he liked him. 

She began to nibble on a cookie, but she didn't feel like sharing one with the boy yet, she didn't know him well enough yet. She took a sip of coffee to calm her nerves, it worked. She looked at the boy and smiled in a kind way, without freaking him out. She could tell he was new, so she decided to make him feel welcome and that he wouldn't be entirely lonely his whole school life. She knew the feeling fairly well, and it wasn't a good feeling.

"What cannot be seen, felt, or carried?" Person who gets this right I will donate some money to them.

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Asher finally abandons his book, casting it aside into the rest of them, realizing, once he's through, just how close the brunette(?) has gotten. He didn't look startled, or disgusted. Rather, intrigued. Surprise registers in his expression first, as the note is passed to him a second time. He reaches for his quill once again, to write out his next reply, '𝐵𝑒 𝓂𝓎 𝑔𝓊𝑒𝓈𝓉.' He hadn't expected her to introduce herself so suddenly, but the when she does in the next minute, he can only greet her with dimples and a side eye as he pushes the paper back toward her. How silly, that he's still communicating like this when.. Well, it couldn't kill him to talk, could it? He musters up enough guts to acknowledge her in his own hushed voice, so silky and accented that it could register as 'heart-warming', with a slightly higher pitch as a cruel result of the prepubescence ordeal. "Nice to meet you, Verla. I'm Asher." Announces the male, turning his head as to face his fellow Hufflepuff, halting in his tracks to gape at the little plant creature- it was rather cute. "How adorable. Does it have a name?~" Nice going, Lundell. You've gone and flattered the pet, and not its owner, and now you're doomed to a life of loneliness. :,)

~Lundell~

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Verla smiled at Asher "pleasure to meet you, and his name is Oliver, or Ollie for short." She was glad that he hadn't looked scared of her moving closer. She was happy making a new friend. "I'm sorry I wrote on a piece of paper to greet you, I'm shy, and it's sometimes so bad that I can't speak. I'm surprised no one has thought of me as a mute, although I wish I were." She looked away in a slightly sad expression, then she quickly snapped out of it and put Oliver on front of Asher, to see what he would do. She giggled when Oliver observed him. He went down onto fours, moved his head from side to side, then jumped onto him and sat on his shoulder "hehe, I think he likes you, you should feel special, he's never done that to anyone before." Verla giggled. She knew she had to stay friends with Asher while they were there, otherwise she would pay for it somehow if she didn't. 

Asher seemed like a sweet kid. And he was already making her laugh without even trying, which didn't happen often, it probably hasn't happened at all during her whole life.

"What cannot be seen, felt, or carried?" Person who gets this right I will donate some money to them.

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"No, no. I'm quite glad that you did. I'm shy, too, and probably wouldn't have said anything otherwise. Thank you." At her look of disdain, his smile fell. Did I upset her somehow? That wasn't his intention, and he could have sworn he didn't say anything rude. Quickly, he was reassured, when a laugh met his ears. Puzzled, the boy takes a peep at the desk in front of himself. Oliver, he recalled, was scrutinizing him. And why? Did he look funny? All doubts went astray, replaced by glee when the pet hopped onto him. He, himself, releases an airy laugh. "I'm honored to be the exception." His eyes crinkle at the edges, divots forming in his cheeks. He practically exudes joy. It's been a while since he's been so genuinely happy. Maybe Verla was better than he'd thought, since she was making him feel so at home. Sadly, he wasn't felt that way since he left his mum to go to school. Speaking of which, he hoped she was alright there at home, alone. She'd never been on her own before-- "I don't have a pet, yet, although, I wish I did. How long have you had yours? You two seem very close, from what I can tell."

~Lundell~

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"I haven't had him very long, I got him about the second or third day of school. I saved him from being eaten by an ugly beetle." She replied to him, she got out the bag of bugs and fed one to Ollie. She giggled while Asher tried to figure out why she was laughing at him. When he smiled nervously, she noticed the dimples on the sides of his cheeks, and she blushed immensely, and she hid her cheeks so she didn't come off as a weirdo. She looked away from him too until the blush was gone, but it didn't go away. How rude she must've looked to him, she looked at him suddenly in case he was thinking it. 
Her face was bright red, and her blue eyes made her look sort of cute almost, though she wasn't intending to. She never thought of herself as "cute" and she didn't care. Verla was Verla and that was that.
Verla chuckled nervously and rubbed the back of her neck and bit her bottom lip like she always did when she knew she messed up on something. "Um, so, where'd you come from? I mean..." Oh my god She thought to herself.

"What cannot be seen, felt, or carried?" Person who gets this right I will donate some money to them.

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"So he's a rescue. No wonder he likes you so much. You must be proud, saving him like that." He exhales dreamily, unfazed by the feeding of the insects. They didn't bother him. The only things that really gave him the chills were roaches. They really, really, disgusted him. Especially the hissing variety.
In his peripheral line of sight, he caught a glimpse of red that stood out quite well. Upon further inspection when he turned his head to see just what it was, he learned it was the girl's face. Was she blushing, or running a fever? "Are you alright? I didn't say anything embarrassing, did I? If I did, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to."
It's hardly a complaint. Even Asher, the boy who only ever thought of animals as being cute, could agree that the Bowtruckle's owner was quite adorable. But he wasn't going to be a creep about that, whatsoever. He wasn't a playboy at all, and his flirting skills were poor, to put it simply. In the end, he marked it off as an innocent observation, rather than what it actually was. What was it exactly, anyways?
"I'm from Chudley. If that's what you mean...?" He states, and questions simultaneously, his voice wavering with amusement.

~Lundell~

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"Oh! No you didn't do anything wrong, I just hate it when I blush so much, I just get so nervous." She chuckled nervously again. Then she nodded "Cool, I'm originally from Scotland." She said in her thick accent. Verla had to get used to the bugs since she had Oliver. 
She began to not care about her blushing cheeks, so she quit trying to hide them. He must've thought she looked funny, and she was pretty sure she did. Of course, Asher looked perfect. Though her speaking skills were that of a five year old. She pulled out her sketchbook from home and looked over all she had drew, she drew lots of animals, and she showed it to Asher "Just to prove that I love animals, I drew them all the time at home when I had no friends. My mom says it looks like a professional drew it, but I think it looks like a two year old drew it." She giggled as her face got redder. She hoped it was just blush and not a fever, the last thing she needed was to be getting sick in front of a boy who looked gorgeous. In fact, in front of anyone else too.

"What cannot be seen, felt, or carried?" Person who gets this right I will donate some money to them.

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"I couldn't tell." Is his sarcastic, playful remark. Her skin, red as a firetruck now, was only getting increasingly more discolored. He'd never say it out loud, but that was a very endearing thing to behold. That she was getting flustered over someone as insignificant as him baffled him to no extent. He wasn't intentionally charming. It happened more often than he realized. It often gets chalked up to him having poor skills when it comes to interactions, but truthfully, he gives the sweetest compliments.
As she produced her sketchpad, he was captivated again. Not by admiration, but by the skill level this girl has. She just kept getting better and better. She'd make a fine friend, for sure. If they could keep this atmosphere going, that is. He sees so much potential in her work that he just has to make a comment. "Well, mothers usually make a big deal out of their kid's accomplishment, but this is really impressive. You could totally make a career out of this, you know?"
The pad of one of his slender fingers lingers over one of the creatures on the page. "This. What is this one? I haven't seen it before. And it looks beautiful." It never failed to amuse, how easily he could say those kinds of things about animals, but never about humans. Eesh. He's so awkward sometimes.

~Lundell~

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Verla giggled "yeah, especially my mother. But thank you, and that is Willow Warbler, I saw it in front of my house. It's a muggle animal." Well duh he probably already knew that Verla! She loved where this was going with Asher. She rubbed her cheeks and the color began to come back. She began to relax and wasn't so tense since they both love animals, and he gives the sweetest compliments since he liked her drawings. Then she got an idea "I could draw you, if you'd like. I've never done a portrait of someone before, so it might not be very good." She smiled sweetly at him. She never saw herself to being an artist, though the idea seemed like a good way to make a living and find a home and such. She began to start sketching the outline of the side of his head. He was gorgeous that way. She never thought she'd being drawing a person she'd just met, but she didn't care, for once, she actually didn't. He was looking down at something as she drew the side of him. She got it down to the tiniest detail of him. Then something jumped in her chest, how weird.

"What cannot be seen, felt, or carried?" Person who gets this right I will donate some money to them.

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"Willow Warbler.. Oh, yes. Now I remember. I read about it in an ornithology book once!" He'd never seen one in person though, and this drawing was the closest he's gotten to the real thing. That's expected when your childhood is cut short, and you're made to live alone.
When she mentioned drawing him, he was thrown for a loop. He has so many questions to ask her, none of which he actually does. It's not like I'm the prettiest subject. But that pesky artistic, enthralled half of him won him over, and purely out of the need to look edgy for this sketch, he turned his head to the side and looked back down into the book he'd been reading, keeping still so the shadows on his face wouldn't change. He picks up at where he left off, allowing him not to be bored while the doodle of him was being made.
His heart has skipped several beats, but that's primarily the anxiety's doing. It's a recurring reminder that he could mess up any minute now, and turn her away from him, and then he'd never make any friends. He wasn't the coolest, wasn't the funniest, wasn't the best looking, wasn't the most courageous. No one would see him as anything but an outcast and a coward for the rest of his life if he didn't do well in the few talks he's had.

~Lundell~
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