1 Sep 2018, 02:43
Make A Wish
« PRIVATE TO ADAM, DORIAN, ERIS, PHAEDRA, REID, RHEA, ROSIE, SERENA »
Great Hall Table
September 1st, 2018
23:40
If there was one thing Max had royally underestimated out of the whole affair, it was how eerie things would look about three hours off of Witching Hour. The flickering light created shadows that occasionally became ghosts peering in to see what was going on, the stuff he had brought looked alive with the way the light moved, and it was so quiet that his head conjured up things that weren't there (or were they?). Setting up the measly decorations and cake he'd acquired, he was again reminded of all the reasons why he hated the dark. If no one decided to listen to his perhaps needlessly ominous invitation, he'd be left here alone at midnight with only his imagination to keep him company. Not the most pleasant thought in the world.
"They'll come," he muttered under his breath to give the space some semblance of sound. In hindsight, he was an absolute buffoon to not ask for help when he was operating with a broken arm, but hindsight was always 20/20.
Stretching on his toes on top of the table, he wound a bright red streamer as best he could around the bottom of one of the floating candles. It hung sad and limp and he scoffed lightly before moving onto the next one, this time hanging a blue one. Red and blue, blue and red. He'd been setting this crap up for the past forty minutes - almost double the time he'd expected. Merlin, he hoped they wouldn't be here soon.
Finishing it up and humming some stupidly catchy muggle song hoarsely under his breath, he jumped down from the table with enough force to send pins and needles crawling up his legs. All around in a circle, the candles were decorated with the sad streamers and between two that were particularly far apart hung a banner that said "HAPPY B-DAY PHAE N ERIS". Best he could do under the circumstances - most of his work had went into getting the cake anyways. He could've asked one of the House Elves to make it but his newfound taste for independence had left him scanning through recipe books on his own until he came to something chocolate-y. It... it wasn't the best looking cake he'd ever made. And there may have been bits of eggshells mixed in but! A little crunch added character to the cake. Or - or something.
"Why'd you even try?" he asked himself, still trying to distract from the uneasiness that came with being in the dark in a castle children had died in. Although the answer to that question came with apparent ease; Phaedra and Eris deserved a party with all of their friends that wasn't a pure-blood showoff thing. They were great friends as far as Max was concerned and so were in need of a great party that was solely for the sake of having fun. If that meant inviting a few half-bloods or mudbloods then so be it. He'd spent the summer with muggles and knew they were much stronger than people gave them credit for. The thought sent a random pang of phantom pain through his arm, and he shook himself out of the memory of yelling.
23:47. People would probably start showing up soon, and he had a duty to be fully in control of his faculties when they did. He eased his arm behind him, the bulk of the cast resting resolutely on the small of his back as he set his other arm behind him as well and began pacing the floor. Sharp snaps were purposeful to keep the quiet away as he considered how tonight should go. Regardless of the politics (his mother was interested in that Kovacs kid's family, which was the reason for the invitation to that particular boy), networking would be last priority. He'd come to see duty as something more important than fear of punishment, and at present his duty was to ensure that everyone had fun. Eris and Phaedra especially, but the others as well. Crowd mentality could mean mobs but also that if the crowd was happy, everyone's mood within it would be elevated.
He stopped his pacing at 23:50, coming to a rest beside the table where his cake sat along with two poorly wrapped gifts. Like Rosie's gift, these were wrapped in the newspapers of the Gryff Gazette and looked wrapped more for the functionality of hiding what they contained than any sort of decorum. He hoped the birthday girls would like them. Taking in a small breath to calm his nerves, he faced the door with squared shoulders as if he were about to begin a fight. Hopefully the battle of keeping everything civil wouldn't be too hard.
And hopefully they'd come. Now that he thought about it, those invitations had really been something else. He'd meant for them to sound like a surprise but... Well, now that he thought about it, only a real idiot would accept a detail-less invitation from an anonymous school owl. Merlin. This was going to be a bloody disaster.
"There’s something brittle in me that will break before it bends."
Fearless | Poison Resistance
STA - 7, EV - 5, STR - 1, WIS - 9, ARC - 10, ACC - 8
Fearless | Poison Resistance
STA - 7, EV - 5, STR - 1, WIS - 9, ARC - 10, ACC - 8
3 Sep 2018, 02:07
Make A Wish
Adam knew just how risky it was to be out of his dormitory at such a late hour. He could lose his Prefect position, he could be punished, and he could even be attacked. Yet, he couldn't find it in him to worry about any of the daunting consequences this excursion offered. It had been a little over four hours since he'd received the mysterious owl instructing him to take a late-night trip to the Great Hall, and he'd been naturally suspicious. With the unspeakable events of the past year still unsolved, and the threat of the mask still lurking over Hogwarts, it was incredibly foolish for anyone to be out of bed after curfew. It was even more idiotic for them to be out of bed on the instruction of an anonymous letter, written on a small scroll and delivered by one of the school's own owls. The whole thing had a murder-mystery vibe shadowing it, and though he knew the dangers, Adam couldn't help himself. It was the first day of school, and to already be embroiled in something like this was intriguing. It was human nature to be attracted to danger; Adam's first year was a perfect example. Although he could never take for granted the safety that had been bestowed upon him, there was a small part of the boy that had been almost envious. Brushes with death or danger, while heart-stopping, made you infamous, made you exciting. Students that he went to class with every day could say that they had seen the cursed mask for themselves, that they had gotten the chance to duel evil and had come away relatively unharmed. What could he say: that he had spent Christmas with his new friend? That he had snuck a joyride on a school broom? Neither of those things even came close to comparing. So, though it was wrong, Adam had gone to bed fully dressed the night of August 31st with adventure on his mind.
He'd painstakingly kept track of the passing minutes, aided by the tolling of Hogwarts' great bells on every hour. They had struck ten times, then eleven -- and before they could strike twelve, he had risen from his bed as silently as possible, slipping on a pair of shoes while desperately trying not to disturb his dorm-mates. His wand had been stored carefully in one of the pockets of a heavy winter coat, prepacked for November and December, and he'd worked his way though the darkened bedroom in a bizarre waltz of sorts. Finally, he'd reached the stairs, descending lightly and carefully, imagining how embarrassing it would be if he were to be caught out of bed simply because he had tripped. From the foot of the staircase, it had been easy to cross the common room and reach the door to the West Tower. His mind was racing, the logical part of him shrieking out warnings about what he was really doing. Logic had no place at midnight, however, and he cut it off quickly, favoring the thrill of the unknown. He was like a super-spy, following up on a lead.
Adam made a game out of avoiding the many portraits and ghosts that could threaten his journey if they caught him on the staircases, feeling more and more like the star of an action movie with every passing floor. This was exactly what it must feel like to be in MI6, slipping through shadows in enemy territory with the fear of extreme punishment always in the background. If he thought he could, he would have tried a few somersaults or rolls as he darted from staircase to staircase, staying just in front of the digital gaze of the imaginary security cameras watching him from the corners. In his left hand, he clutched the secret letter, thinking that maybe he'd need it as proof when he reached the Great Hall at last for his covert rendezvous.
He navigated the staircases and corridors of the castle smoothly until the first floor, pausing outside of the History of Magic classroom at the sound of a distant noise. He'd been compromised. Crouching down, he considered his options. He could stay and wait for the noise to disappear, of course, and that would probably be the smarter thing to do. On the other hand was a plan far more interesting: the ground floor was within his reach, and if he wanted to get to it, he'd have to run as fast as he could to avoid notice, or at least capture. It was something that every great special agent had to do in their time, and though he was far from espionage material, it was something that Adam felt was necessary. He rose to his feet, bounced on them to get himself warmed up, and took a deep breath. Then, before he could overthink it, he ran.
The classrooms flew by as the boy sprinted down the hall, careening through a stone archway and down the final staircase to the entrance floor. His footsteps thumped quietly against the floor, louder than he had thought they would be, but hopefully not loud enough to draw attention. Finally, he slid to a stop just next to the Great Hall's doors, completely out of breath. This was it. The final confrontation. Adam rounded the corner, prepared to meet the mystery man (or woman) that had sent him down here so secretly.
"Max?!" he asked, incredulously. What reason did Max Avery have for meeting with him in the middle of the night? Adam found his question answered by the decorations set up around the room -- if you could call them that. A few drooping steamers, a banner, two gifts, and what Adam suspected was a cake set the scene for the most obscure birthday party he'd ever attended. As he stepped inside, he fixed the other second-year with a bewildered look. "What the hell is this?"
3 Sep 2018, 06:23
Make A Wish
The figure was coming for her, just as Eris knew it always would. The professors were incompetent, and she woke up drenched in sweat the morning the letter had found her, knowing something was off. Or maybe she was just hot, but Eris had dismissed that, considering the sweat to be a sign of cosmic fate. Something bad was going to happen today, and that much was proven from the anonymous letter. She was going to die at 12 at night, and this time, Dorian wouldn’t be there to get in the crossfire. Eris did not sleep that night, not even changing out of her pjs as the clock struck 11. It was time to get up and face her death. If anything, Eris would take down the figure with her. At least, that was what she whispered to herself.
The new few minutes went by in a dance of sorts, as the girl silently moved around the Lily Potter dorm, using the moonlight as a natural lamp, carefully moving around to make sure her roomates did not stir from the bundles of red covers they all slept under. The faint snoring of her dorm mates filled Eris’s ears, and for once, she didn’t mind the snoring.
Everything seemed different when someone was about to die. Eris didn’t feel any hatred towards her roomates, even strange Aurelia. It would of been nice to have more time with the girls, but alas, Eris had not picked to be a preteen martyr. However, if the crown fit, she would accept it. Maybe she could get a cool trophy out of it.
“Eris Fawley; was better than the professors and killed the masked figure for us. Died trying, but was still better than the staff.”
Sounded good to her. As the motions passed on, Eris imagined herself in a movie, counting down the minutes, as she dragged out the minutes, slowly getting ready. She savored every little moment, knowing this was the last time she would ever get ready for a late night adventure. Hopefully Max and Dorian would carry on her legacy as the best troublemaker of all time. Maybe at her funeral they could kick some hufflepuffs.
11:01- putting on socks
11:06- setting feet down on the floor
11:08- getting shoes on
11: 10- grabbing wand from nightstand
11:11- checking to make sure letter to friends is written (Eris had made a death note, just in case.)
11:14- Silently wishing said friends goodbye
11:16- Sneaking out of the Common Room.
From then on, the moments blended together, as Eris marched towards the Great Hall. She took her time, running her fingertips over the paintings and statues, no longer giving a damn if the paintings woke up and alerted the castle staff. The professors were bad, they wouldn’t care about Eris’s death at the hands of the figure. That was why she hadn’t gone to the professors after receiving the letter, why she hadn’t gone to Max or Dorian, or anyone. She had vowed to defeat the figure herself, and she would.
Pausing to stare at the moving staircase, wondering if she would be seeing the annoying stairway for the last time, Eris rolled her eyes. “Good riddance. I never will miss you, lame moving stairs, but I hope you miss my feet.” In truth, Eris was scared to die. She had never imagined dying before, but Eris was a Gryffindor.
She was supposed to be brave, and she was doing the school a service, anyways. It was better than waiting around to die. If she was going to die, Eris would do it on her own terms. Already huffing slightly, tired from the long walk from the seventh floor to the Great Hall, which was on the First Floor, (even though Eris wasn’t even halfway done walking down the stairways) Eris leaned against the rail of the stairway, as a painting finally opened an eye and snapped at her.
“What are you doing up at this hour?” The old man in the painting inquired, as Eris sighed, shaking her head. These paintings just didn’t understand martyrdom. If she could pat the painting on the head, she would.Now that it was her last night alive, could she cuss at adults?
Eris decided she could.
“I’m saving your ass, my dear sir.” The child responded, before hopping down the last set of stairs. She would die a glorious death or maybe..maybe the nurse could heal her? Yes, that seemed like a better idea.
Eris stood outside the Great Hall for a long while, eyes welling with tears as her bravo vanished. She really didn’t want to die. She was only 12 years old and had never kissed anyone, had never even owned a cat yet, and hadn’t won the Quidditch cup yet! Eris was bound by her own vow, though. She had promised to destroy the figure, and she would. In the end, what was one girl’s life, if the rest of the school was freed from menace?
A sense of calmness flooded Eris’s bones, as she drew her wand out, walking into the Great Hall, only to see Adam?! Wait, was Adam the figure? “Adam, what the heck? You’re the one-” She studied the room even more, seeing the banner and the cake, and then Max.
“Oh.”
Eris wasn’t dying, which meant that she had said ass to an old man for no reason. She was doomed, but on the other hand, she wasn’t dying. She recognized the handwriting as Max’s, wondering how Adam had gotten there for a split second, before grinning at both of them.
Eris winced slightly, studying the broken arm, but still bounded across the room, drawing both boys in for a hug. Someday, she would remember that Max did not like hugs, but overcome with the happy feeling in her gut and the grand knowledge that she wasn’t dying, Eris was too overjoyed to do anything else.
She would have time to ask Max about his broken arm, but first they needed to surprise Phaedra! “Oh Max, this is wonderful! You should of told me, I would of gotten Phae a present! Well, another one. I mean, I couldn’t find flowers to send her, because they don’t sell special wizard flowers, but this is amazing! Did you, uh, bake that cake?”
Eris finally noticed the cake, studying it. Huh. It looked a bit strange, but she wouldn’t be against eating it. Cake was cake.
sorry not sorry bout' what i said
STA: 6 EVA: 7 STR: 1 WIS: 8 ACC 9 ACC: 9
abilities: transfig DC -5
18 Sep 2018, 17:45
Make A Wish
Well. To say that Rosie wasn't a little terrified would've been a lie.
She had gotten probably one of the most ominous, suspicious, and in general spooky notes that she had ever received in her young, young life. She was certain some kid had already wanted to jump her, or some psycho ghost murderer would possess her and force her to kill her entire student body. Whatever it was, it was freaking her out a bit. And personally, Rosie just wanted to sleep. It was late!
But with a sigh, Rosie pulled her curly hair into a ponytail, in case she had to kick some butt. Her hair was getting longer and longer, it would smack in her face. The girl hiked up her pajama pants and pulled on a big golden sweater. It was a little big -- it did belong to her dad, after all. Well, one of them. It was still so odd, Rosie had to get into the habit of referring to one of her dads, as dad, and the other as papa, to avoid confusion.
Her footsteps were quiet as she slowly made her way out of the girl's dormitories. Rosie had gotten a good set of girls in her room this year, one of them being Serena Towers, AKA her year long first year crush. It was still so weird, thinking that all that time Rosie was confused about being so nervous, was because she liked her. And the feelings were still strong it seemed, because her heart flipped when she saw Serena that day.
But that was besides the point.
Rosie yawned and slid through the dark room of the Hufflepuff commons, her footsteps silent. She practically weighed a pound and her feet were tiny, being sneaky wasn't a hard task. She was just glad the common room was basically silent. Rosie hadn't told anyone about the note she had received, fearing they'd be killed along with her. If she would even BE killed, that was.
It wasn't a long trip, the Hufflepuff section was only a floor away from the Great Hall. She slid down the stairs and pushed open the doors, her hands shaking. Rosie was afraid she was opening the gate to certain death, however, what she was faced with was not that.
The first thing she noticed was the banner, and a light bulb above her head turned on. Of course! Eris and Phae's birthday! How could she have forgotten? Their birthdays were back during the summer, so the dates had completely brushed past her mind. The first person she noticed was Adam, who looked shocked. She walked over to him and gently took his arm, smiling a bit. "Hey Adam. I'm just as confused as you are," she muttered, before turning to the only other two in the room.
Eris seemed happy, thankfully. Rosie was just thankful she had gotten a present for Eris during the summer, because the surprise party that even Rosie didn't know about involved her being completely unprepared. She groaned. "Man, if I knew this was a party and not some murder scheme, I would've dressed up nicer." Rosie complained, rubbing her eyes.
Next was Max, and he must've been the one who set up the entire party. That explained the suspicious note, and the rather rough looking decorations. Despite the quality, Rosie thought they looked lovely, who knew Max could put in the effort to be nice? With that though, Rosie gently slapped her own cheeks. No. New year. Good thoughts about everyone! Including Max. Maybe she could get a hug out of him this year.
Rosie's face paled when she realized she didn't get anything for Phae. They hadn't even had a full conversation. She groaned again, rubbing her face. For the time being, she stood next to Adam, standing next to someone who was equally as confused, and not a birthday kid.
STAMINA 13 // EVASION 13 // STRENGTH 6 // WISDOM 6 // ARCANE POWER 9 // ACCURACY 8
30 Oct 2018, 00:43
Make A Wish
When Phaedra received a menacing letter from someone anonymous about meeting, late at night, in the Great Hall, she didn't know what to think. Her first inkling was a prankster; her second, a vengeance-seeking girl attempting to lure her out after dark and beat her up for being mean; and her third was that another dark being had made their way inside of the school, meaning she'd have to experience the traumatizing events of her first-year all over again. Regardless, the letter really knew how to draw a girl in. Just descriptive enough to hook her in and yet, simultaneously not descriptive enough to keep her wondering what it could possibly mean. Clever. She was fairly certain she had seen the familiar handwriting scribbled on the note before, but couldn't exactly place when. It was probably a ploy to get her to let down her guard, anyway.
After being attacked in her first-year and fretting all summer about it, she wanted nothing more than to approach whoever had it out for her this time and give them a piece of her mind. Five minutes to midnight, she was already out of her common room door and speeding down West Tower's spiral steps. Phaedra had her wand with her - any wizard with a brain would carry theirs at all times - but tried to avoid using any of the few spells she knew to avoid herself from getting busted out of bed past curfew. The school had gotten an influx of new teachers. None had taught long enough for her or anyone else to analyse and note their patrolling patterns, but luckily, in her spare pocket lay a folded-up Marauder's Map. Surely, it would be of use, just in case.
After making it into the corridors outside of her destination, Phaedra tiptoed to the large, ajar doors of the famous feast hall, the faintest beam of light radiating through the crack. She squinted her eyes, her wand hand gripping the weapon tighter in case she'd have to use it at any second. Her heart felt as if it would practically break through her ribcage as she drew as near as she could to press her back against one of the doors. This was her chance...
"FLIPE-" she shouted, jumping out from behind her cover with her wand pointed forward. Her voice catching still in her throat, she was immediately taken aback by the scene before her.
Her alert posture disappeared instantly and dark eyes widened once she realised the people standing in the room weren't upperclassman pranksters nor a possessed child doing a dark wizard's bidding, but instead were her friends who she had grown close to over the months. Max, Adam, Eris, and even Rosie stood, some of them conversing. Her gaze shifted to take in the patterns of red and blue streamers encircling some of the floating candles until it eventually landed on the biggest banner in the centre that said "HAPPY B-DAY PHAE N ERIS." Oh. It was a party. No fighting would be needed tonight.
Her freckled cheeks began to flush, and so unlike the confident way that she had burst in the room, she shyly made her way to the group of students waiting for her. Did someone really show her a genuine act of appreciation? It was unheard of to Phaedra, considering how most of the time whatever she did wasn't good enough for those around her.
Momentarily speechless, Phaedra slid her wand back into her pocket. Then, her hands flew right up to cover her red face and shield those tears that were threatening to fall. She was crying from the lovely surprise but was far from sad.
