24 Apr 2020, 11:50
Fake Boyfriend, Real Feelings
Date: Wednesday, April 22nd, 2020
Time: 6:00 am, Morning (just before breakfast)
The stage was set. After a week and a half of planning, asking around, running errands, researching, and preparing, Jack had finally managed to prepare everything to his satisfaction. For such a simple act, he the first-year was surprised at how much time and effort it had taken to pull everything off, but he was certain it would be worth it. For Erin, it would be worth it.
On the first night he had met her, Jack recalled Erin saying something about having mistaken someone for him at the Blossom Ball. 'Some freak named Jack', she'd said, and confessed to having kissed him when he'd questioned her about it. From that and other statements she had made about Parce - the boyfriend she was convinced Jack was - the Slytherin boy deduced that the real Parce had not gone to Erin to the ball the previous year if he'd even gone at all.
Ironically, though the redhead was not the boy she had originally kissed, he also happened to fit the description of 'some freak named Jack' who looked remarkably like Erin's so-called boyfriend. The difference this time was that this Jack actually chose to play along with the role he had had thrust upon him. That, and this Jack was betting he was probably more interested in Erin and her happiness than the other Jack and the actual Parce put together.
It was for this reason that the Slytherin boy had worked tirelessly in between classes and investigations regarding strange happenings around Hogwarts - all in order to make sure that that year, Erin received the best invitation in the whole school asking her to attend the Blossom Ball as his 'date'. Though he thought the difficult part would be the planning, Jack soon discovered that the execution of said plan was just as challenging if not more so.
The ideas began when Jack decided he wanted to make things look really nice. Recalling Lark.Flaer's exceptional mastery of decorating the entire Rehersal Room for her best friend AJ's talent show, he quickly owled her for advice. After giving her some advice of his own on how to ask a certain someone to a certain secret ball and including a few words of encouragement along with some ideas, Lark seemed more than happy to offer some suggestions regarding his own endeavor.
Being a decorator who seemed to rely a great deal on getting most of her work done herself - such as when she had hand-written all the programs for AJ's talent show - Lark was not only exceptional at coming up with ideas, but also clever at figuring out ways to accomplish the necessary tasks required to make those ideas into reality. The first plans for decorating began with the flowers.
Jack had explained that while anyone could guess that Erin's favorite color was purple, she had also told him at one point when he'd asked that her favorite kind of flower were sunflowers. They were her favorite because they 'looked weird and were tall', which, to her, evidently made them 'the kings of gardens'. Along with finding this ridiculously adorable, Jack realized when he was talking to Lark about it that the rich, deep purple that Erin loved and the sunny yellow of her favorite blossom were complimentary colors. Delighted by this revelation, the Ravenclaw girl excitedly began to mention more ideas for what could be done regarding the theme.
Upon his inquiry, Lark had originally suggested Jack attempt to acquire the necessary flowers from the Herbology greenhouse, potentially in exchange for a few favors from the Herbology Professor, Professor MacTavish. After some consideration on the matter, however, Jack decided he didn't want to bother the professor, especially for plants he couldn't be sure were void of magical properties. Besides, he needed a lot more 'normal' flowers than he thought the professor would have simply for students' use, favors or no. In the end, he decided to request the aid of his muggle parents, asking them to send a few packaged flowers in secret a little at a time, hiding them in the storage closet he like to use (aka the Room of Requirement).
Although his parents were a bit surprised and somewhat suspicious at the amount of flowers he asked for, his clarification of his attempt at a grand gesture and his reasons for why soon won them over - but not without the certain promise of advance allowances and future favors in exchange once he came home for the summer. After all, there would be a great deal to do in preparing for Ruka's welcome into their home and family once school ended.
Pleased at the arrangements he had made, Jack eventually had smuggled enough flowers into the castle by the morning of Tuesday, April 21st - the last Tuesday before the Saturday ball. It was cutting it kind of close, he knew, but everything else had already been gathered and prepared by him by that point in time. His poem had been written since the previous week's Monday on the 13th and had been carefully practiced by a few portraits Jack had managed to convince to help him. That hadn't been as simple as he had hoped, either.
It turned out that a few portraits along the corridor near the baths had something of a grudge against Erin Ryan. From what Jack understood of what he had been told, at one point, Erin had threatened those particular portraits with a quill and ink to keep silent about her attempts to take a painting into an abandoned bath. Despite the threats, the portraits ratted her out anyway in order to prevent her heinous crime.
While Jack couldn't help but find the story somewhat funny and wonder at the reasoning behind it, he solemnly thanked the portraits who had warned him about the corridor ones' vendetta and was careful to steer clear of them. Instead, he decided to focus requesting assistance from the ones lining the stairway leading up from the Dungeons, where the Slytherin Common Room and dormitories were located, all the way to the next floor up. The ground floor, after all, was the location of the Great Hall where many students took their breakfast.
After working on setting everything up just before curfew (and perhaps a little after) on Tuesday night, Jack was at last ready on Wednesday morning. The previous evening had been spent arranging flowers tastefully all along the stairway, railing, and between portrait frames leading up to the ground floor. They were all carefully tied and decorated with various ribbons of green, purple, and sunflower yellow while Jack went over with each designated portrait along the way what they were meant to recite. Eventually, even the portraits seemed excited for their parts in the plan and were eagerly awaiting Erin's entrance up the stairs early the next morning.
Jack himself found he could hardly sleep a wink that night even after the exhaustion of festooning the stairway with flowers and rehearsing lines with the portraits. He hadn't thought his objective would make him so nervous, especially because - as most people were well aware - Erin was likely to say yes simply because her beloved Parce asked her to the ball at all regardless of how.
Even so, he found his nerves on edge wondering about the pureblood's potential reactions to the whole thing. Perhaps she wouldn't like all the attention or all the flowers would be too girly and cliché to her. Maybe she would be allergic? He should have checked about that first. Worrying about this and more had kept him up for many hours until at last he finally managed to gain some shut-eye.
At exactly 6 o'clock when curfew had ended, Jack hurried out of his dormitory dressed in a young wizard's dress robes - something he had picked up at Gladrags Wizardwear in Hogsmeade for occasions such as this - and hurried up the stairs to stand at the top with the necessary materials. A few of the portraits cheerfully wished him good luck while others anxiously went over their lines again and again. Everyone seemed to wait with baited breath for the entrance of the Slytherin third-year, Erin Ryan.
@Erin Ryan - Sorry for the delay! XD;
PC: Jack Burnett | iNPC: Ginyami Midorimori
24 Apr 2020, 15:36
Fake Boyfriend, Real Feelings
Better late than never.
Erin did not have high expectations for the Ball. First and foremost the Blossom Ball was canceled. Second, she would have likely gone to the ball alone had it been held. Paracelsus had never taken her to a school dance in all of the time that they were together. He preferred to remain in his dorm room, at least that was where she often presumed he was. In truth they had not seen one another in well over a year. Last year, Erin had used the ball as a means to lure a young man, some Slytherin whom she had forgotten the name of, to the dungeons with her to meet the crones. She did not recall the outcome, everything after the smell of old meat and sulfur filling the air like a strong perfume was a blur.
Erin had been up since five. She was always up before her dorm mates and she always left their shared sleeping quarters while they were still asleep. She avoided her housemates whenever she could because many of her actions as of late were dictated by fear. Fear of the part giant menace and the insidious threat of death witches and the Prefects as well as Professors that had allied with them. With diminishing numbers among her peers, she was certain that they were being killed and eaten. She had been lucky, made few attachments and sadly regretted one third of the ones she had made. LeStrange was a traitor, had he ever meant their friendship in the first place. His loss in the end, she was the only one that even bothered to look for him. Nobody else even cared.
She considered herself fortunate, having Oliver Hart as an unexpected ally and Paracelsus as her paramour. It was more than he had as far as she was concerned and more than he would ever have. She would protect them and leave Thomas to rot. Yes, she was angry. She felt betrayed in fact because there was the sentiment of comradeship that had been dashed and the spiteful youth would ensure he suffered a miserable ends. Even her enemies did not betray her limited trust. She would get stronger, faster and become more capable. She did not need him, she did not need anybody - they would need her.
Yes, the hero Hogwarts never asked for and really did not want.
Erin spent her mornings in the depths of the dungeons, she ran there in the darkness. Yes, she was well aware of the proliferation of the darkness. She was aware of the encroaching threat. Of the scent. The stink. The rot and foul decay. She was used to it, saw it as home. As something that was normal. The crones rarely shown themselves these days, she wondered what sort of fear compelled them to remain hidden. She would never ask but after this day she would likely come to them with glorious news - of how her heart became full and how there was going to be a secret ball (yes, she told them).
After she ran to the point of near exhaustion those desolate corridors she would limp to the common room dorm and change. It was always busier at this hour, the girls were rising and they demanded all of the mirrors and the counter space. All Erin needed and wanted for was a bit of bath water and a towel. The sweat of the morning gone, her hair towel dried and pulled back in a messy high ponytail she donned her robes. She had cared more for academics as of late, she wanted to -try- and be capable. To keep up, perhaps even surpass her peers. The girl was as ambitious as she was insatiable.
It would not be until then that she would see something 'wrong.' The stairs ascending to the main floor were festooned with sunflowers and purple. Some sort of celebration? She would walk up to a painting and curiously thumb the decorations. The painting knew it would seem, she could tell by his expression. "What is this?"
Rather than answer, the portrait had something nonsensical to say. [Presuming a line from this poem]
Erin's mouth cocked to the side, curious of course, confused but more than either concerned. Erin had grown into a paranoid young girl, the sort that believed that there were death witches and midget giants, secret plants and dangerous orders that cannibalize children. That she could only trust a pair of young men as well as a trio of crones that she knew were hags but at some point came to the erroneous conclusion or truthfully told herself until she believed it that they were the 'good' kind.
Erin would ascend the stairs, she had already broken curfew by jogging and the rest of the students would not meander out of the common room for some time. Erin would investigate this evil influence that brought gifts of really pretty flowers. They made her smile as she eyed another one. Big sunny faces. The tallest and most powerful flower. The true kings of the garden. Silent sentinels whose domain was all they saw. What foul, clever ruse was this!
Another painting had something else to say. How odd.
She would slow her ascent. Was this a trap? She looked ahead, more flowers! Her heart hastened. Should she flee. Depart for the safety of her common room? And say what -- that there were flowers and they made her happy so therefore they must barricade the doors for their safety.
No, they would just mess it up like they did when the living darkness came. It was a death sentence to seek them out. Indeed her conclusion was not that her concerns were foolhardy or that she would not be believed but rather that there was a higher risk of death or failure if she attempted to find refuge among her serpent brethren. No, she must ascend!
Erin did not have high expectations for the Ball. First and foremost the Blossom Ball was canceled. Second, she would have likely gone to the ball alone had it been held. Paracelsus had never taken her to a school dance in all of the time that they were together. He preferred to remain in his dorm room, at least that was where she often presumed he was. In truth they had not seen one another in well over a year. Last year, Erin had used the ball as a means to lure a young man, some Slytherin whom she had forgotten the name of, to the dungeons with her to meet the crones. She did not recall the outcome, everything after the smell of old meat and sulfur filling the air like a strong perfume was a blur.
Erin had been up since five. She was always up before her dorm mates and she always left their shared sleeping quarters while they were still asleep. She avoided her housemates whenever she could because many of her actions as of late were dictated by fear. Fear of the part giant menace and the insidious threat of death witches and the Prefects as well as Professors that had allied with them. With diminishing numbers among her peers, she was certain that they were being killed and eaten. She had been lucky, made few attachments and sadly regretted one third of the ones she had made. LeStrange was a traitor, had he ever meant their friendship in the first place. His loss in the end, she was the only one that even bothered to look for him. Nobody else even cared.
She considered herself fortunate, having Oliver Hart as an unexpected ally and Paracelsus as her paramour. It was more than he had as far as she was concerned and more than he would ever have. She would protect them and leave Thomas to rot. Yes, she was angry. She felt betrayed in fact because there was the sentiment of comradeship that had been dashed and the spiteful youth would ensure he suffered a miserable ends. Even her enemies did not betray her limited trust. She would get stronger, faster and become more capable. She did not need him, she did not need anybody - they would need her.
Yes, the hero Hogwarts never asked for and really did not want.
Erin spent her mornings in the depths of the dungeons, she ran there in the darkness. Yes, she was well aware of the proliferation of the darkness. She was aware of the encroaching threat. Of the scent. The stink. The rot and foul decay. She was used to it, saw it as home. As something that was normal. The crones rarely shown themselves these days, she wondered what sort of fear compelled them to remain hidden. She would never ask but after this day she would likely come to them with glorious news - of how her heart became full and how there was going to be a secret ball (yes, she told them).
After she ran to the point of near exhaustion those desolate corridors she would limp to the common room dorm and change. It was always busier at this hour, the girls were rising and they demanded all of the mirrors and the counter space. All Erin needed and wanted for was a bit of bath water and a towel. The sweat of the morning gone, her hair towel dried and pulled back in a messy high ponytail she donned her robes. She had cared more for academics as of late, she wanted to -try- and be capable. To keep up, perhaps even surpass her peers. The girl was as ambitious as she was insatiable.
It would not be until then that she would see something 'wrong.' The stairs ascending to the main floor were festooned with sunflowers and purple. Some sort of celebration? She would walk up to a painting and curiously thumb the decorations. The painting knew it would seem, she could tell by his expression. "What is this?"
Rather than answer, the portrait had something nonsensical to say. [Presuming a line from this poem]
Erin's mouth cocked to the side, curious of course, confused but more than either concerned. Erin had grown into a paranoid young girl, the sort that believed that there were death witches and midget giants, secret plants and dangerous orders that cannibalize children. That she could only trust a pair of young men as well as a trio of crones that she knew were hags but at some point came to the erroneous conclusion or truthfully told herself until she believed it that they were the 'good' kind.
Erin would ascend the stairs, she had already broken curfew by jogging and the rest of the students would not meander out of the common room for some time. Erin would investigate this evil influence that brought gifts of really pretty flowers. They made her smile as she eyed another one. Big sunny faces. The tallest and most powerful flower. The true kings of the garden. Silent sentinels whose domain was all they saw. What foul, clever ruse was this!
Another painting had something else to say. How odd.
She would slow her ascent. Was this a trap? She looked ahead, more flowers! Her heart hastened. Should she flee. Depart for the safety of her common room? And say what -- that there were flowers and they made her happy so therefore they must barricade the doors for their safety.
No, they would just mess it up like they did when the living darkness came. It was a death sentence to seek them out. Indeed her conclusion was not that her concerns were foolhardy or that she would not be believed but rather that there was a higher risk of death or failure if she attempted to find refuge among her serpent brethren. No, she must ascend!
Just a trick of the lighting they said...