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« Last post by Kate Baker on Yesterday at 10:32:30 PM »
At the end of the class, Kate swore she heard a buzzer go off in her head. She sprung to her knees–too quickly–and swayed for a second, pressing the heel of her palm up against her forehead. She wondered when her vision returned if she looked like one of those classic cartoons did when they got hit in the head with something. It was a shame real life wasn’t decorated with embellishments like that, in a theatrical, emotional way, but it was even more beautiful that the real gold nuggets of life were hidden in subtleties. All that to say, she was glad she probably didn’t actually look like a cartoon.
She wasn’t surprised by his decision to linger, but Kate’s reasonable ego wouldn’t let her assume that this had been anything more than a happy accident, seeing him here. Sticking around to catch up with a friend was a very normal thing to do, and Kate was glad she had friends at all, particularly ones who occasionally did normal things. She got to her feet and closed most of the distance between them, so she didn’t have to shout to him from across the room. She’d done enough things she would consider humiliating today; yelling in public wasn’t one she wanted to add to that growing list.
“It was your fault, really,” Kate teased him and sounded slightly out of breath. “What do you mean, you’d expect to?” She asked, hypocritically incredulous because she’d thought exactly the opposite about him mere moments ago, that he looked entirely out of place–and, secretly for now, she stood by it.
2
The last few months had been anything but easy on the fourth year. The change in scenery, the changes in class work, expectations, library access and availability, but most of all the lack of Quidditch. This year was supposed to be their year. Phil had spent the summer months devising strategies for himself as to how he could be a better Keeper and more adequately help his team meet their goal of the house Quidditch cup. No amount of philosophy, time with his friends, or even the menial tasks that they had been set to in order that they might get the manoir up to snuff. Phil wasn’t used to a life of luxury, but this place didn’t even meet his meager expectations…
The spiders were quickly becoming all anyone could or would talk about. Heading to class, spiders this, laying in bed and trying to catch a little sleep, spiders that. He understood this was probably the biggest crisis to happen at Beauxbatons since the school had been overtaken once before years ago. Something about wizards with elemental magic or something…he had read about it once, but it failed to keep his interest. Because of all the constant talk of the spiders, Phil had seen even some of his closest relationships falter a bit over the course of the term. He was tired of mindlessly wondering when the aurors, professors and mousquetaires might finally put an end to things and get them back home. Such chatter would do little to make it happen any more quickly. They were stuck here, and all that was left was to try to find something to take his mind off of it.
It wasn’t but a few days after this thought passed through his head, that, as Phil had been wandering back up to the manoir after Botanique, he was approached by Mathilde – the girl who had disappeared not all that long ago. He knew her in a friendly way. The two hadn’t been close in past years, but this year she had had it hard. The disappearance had really shaken the school, but it seemed that everyone had forgotten that they were French, and courtesy was the name of the national game. Speaking about her, around her, and to her as though she was a damaged flower was going to do nothing to help her feel as though she was back. She might even begin to feel worse than she had during her time away. As such, Phil had made up his mind that he was going to treat her as normally as he could have.
Smiling in a very authentic manner, Phil waited for her to finish her thought. “Bien sûr, I would love to fly. It’s been forever since I have been able to get away from this stuffy house and up in the air. If you’d like, we can go. It isn’t like there will be space in the dining hall for us to eat anytime soon anyhow…shall we?” As he posed the question, Phil had already presumed an answer in the affirmative. It wasn’t like Mathilde would have come and asked him if she didn’t want to get right to it. He didn’t know if the school had even bothered to bring the balls or not, but he was sure that when they got to the makeshift pitch area he could find out. Looking back over his shoulder and only just realizing that he had left Mathilde there standing, holding her things, he called out with a laugh, “well, are you coming? Allons, lets go.”
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« Last post by Kate Baker on Yesterday at 10:00:19 PM »
Hypervigilance was buzzing uncomfortably underneath Kate’s skin and there was nothing she wanted more than to be alone. She wasn’t the shy wallflower she used to be, not in every respect, anyway–and this interaction was truly more uncomfortable than anything she’d experienced in a long time. Cordelia’s piercing assessments, her laden words, her calculated movements, all these things made Kate feel like she was under a cursed microscope.
The other woman was apologizing now for the way she’d acted. Kate’s face barely moved and she swallowed, tensing her jaw slightly as she listened to Cordelia’s spiel. In retrospect, she understood that responding to Cordelia’s note to begin with had been a huge mistake, and that things were pretty well beyond any kind of “reasonable doubt” now.
Kate was sure, underneath it all–the pretend obliviousness and the novel curiosity–that Cordelia already had what she needed to run the story. Someone, whom she’d mistakenly trusted–again–had told her. She’d simply been giving Kate the opportunity to get ahead of it, add her own twist, whatever kind of sick spin she was going to put on it.
Despite this private admission, Kate remained quietly stubborn and nodded once as her unwelcome guest announced her departure. She’d noticed the door was locked, then, earlier. She could understand.
“Travel safely,” Kate told Cordelia calmly.
The wards were going to have to go back up.
[out]
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Freya helped Ari tuck herself in beside her, letting her steal a little blanket. “Mmm,” she said, a sound of feigned protest as Ari touched her cold arm to Freya’s.
Oh, she should be more thoughtful. “Okay, yeah, okay” she said quickly, understanding immediately what Ari was saying. Did Freya really think Prosper didn’t care about people? Right this moment, she did really feel like that. But was it what she thought? Freya found Ari’s hand under the blanket and patted it sympathetically. She strongly felt that listening to Jeremy and Danny for dating advice was a bad idea (although it didn’t stop her from going to them any time she needed it, so — hypocrite).
“Maybe he’ll reach out,” Freya said, trying not to sound annoyed. Maybe she was too upset by the whole thing; she wanted to be whatever Ari needed — sad, wallowing, angry, spiteful. Whatever she wanted, Freya could summon to herself. Maybe it was too soon to hate Prosper; their relationship probably still felt like a part of Ariana, in a sense, she thought. The feelings carried through.
She felt uneasy as her mind spun up the comparison between Prosper and Finn, again. She couldn’t quite shake the idea, and wasn’t quite comfortable with the patience and understanding she had for only one of them. Some sense of unfairness tugged at her mind, but she wasn’t exploring it. The shock of seeing Ari like this was one thing, but Prosper had been nothing but nice to Freya for two years, too. Her sense of loyalty to her friend and her sense of fairness and her sense of general friendliness were a little at odds.
But, she couldn’t even imagine what was going on inside her friend right now. Ari’s heart must be hurting a lot. Freya’s feelings were very irrelevant here.
Freya let Ari rest on her shoulder, and she rested her head on her friend’s. Freya chewed her lip for a moment, trying to work out what kind of response she should give to that. It annoyed her, angered her, that he felt like he could walk out and leave her with those kinds of words. But then… When she and Kerr had broken up she had wanted to stay friends, even though she’d cried about it and stuff. Freya wished she had more boyfriend experience to draw from.
“You’ll have to work out what you want,” she settled on, her voice gentle. “I’ll come stay for a bit,” she added, “help you out.” Ari had a problem of dealing with things on her own, she thought. Freya gave her hand a little squeeze.
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« Last post by Remi Park on Yesterday at 09:35:02 PM »
hello! i would once again like to apply for terry boot. my other app & sample is here, lemme know if i need to write up a new one. the characterisation will be the same.
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“Mmm,” Cinda said, sort of agreeing. It was true that nothing had happened, and she was personally skeptical of what the presence of a bunch of aurors could actually accomplish here. Then again, the two-person rule thingo had had her in some very interesting places lately; she was sure Séverin never would have talked to her if it hadn’t been for that rule, for example.
“Why don’t we just actually break out,” she suggested dramatically. “We just creep out through the forest and find our way south,” she added, gesturing with a hand on through and south. She didn’t like the north so much, she’d decided. Cinda was sure that she’d be more into it if she hadn’t been forced to be here. Once more, she wondered why they had to stay in France at all.
Cinda marched past him to the window, clasping her hands behind her back as she leaned back against it. “You got us off to a bad start with the chair kicking,” she whispered loudly, giving him a sidelong look. “People are still looking,” she added. By ‘people’ she meant, like, one first year girl she was pretty sure had a crush on her friend, but whatever. Cinda took a large, comically slow, step towards the door, keeping her back against the wall.
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Clementine’s eyebrows rose briefly and then her face changed again, resembling something much more quizzical, far more curious. This was more information than she’d possibly ever gotten about Lionel’s romantic tendencies or the landscape of what a relationship like that might be with him, and she was soaking that insight up like a sponge.
If he’d thought all this time that the two of them were like oil and water, as he’d insinuated so many times, then surely there had been something about Blythe–some kind of quality–that he also valued within himself. Lionel wasn’t predictable in every way, but there were certain similarities between the people he kept for company.
“Suppose that’s true, there’s only so far you can go away from Hogwarts, even if you sneak out.” The corners of her mouth twitched up. Even sneaking out wasn’t as thrilling as it used to be, and Clementine had a suspicion that her Head of House would be reluctant to demote her just because of an infraction like this. Things seemed to blur more and matter less with regards to morality the more she aged–or maybe it wasn’t that things weren’t a big deal anymore, just that she was more confident she’d be able to handle whatever happened.
“What did you like about her?” She asked, after he finished telling her he thought the whole thing had been inevitable. Pretty doom and gloom(par for the course), but Clem guessed it would be hard not to be D & G in his position. She’d been there before herself. Now, having to focus more on participating in this conversation, Clementine was lurching forward at uneven speeds. Her feet were shuffling in a strange, weavy, grapevine-pattern-sort-of-thing along the path. Somehow it was easier to find her footing this way, and she was blissfully oblivious to her movements. “I–you. I meant initially. Like what…” She gestured awkwardly, “made you attracted to her?”
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« Last post by Livvy on Yesterday at 08:36:26 PM »
We finished this thread Azalea Reed - Christian || Summer 2000, Camp Athena Can I drop the following threads? Kalevi Aare - Linnea || May 2000 Kalevi Aare - Jet || December 2003 Maryana Nikolaeva - Dante || NYE 02/03 Patience Blackstone - Benny || September, 2002 Valda Pavlycheva - Anders || July 2002 Requesting to start a new one: Driver 1 & Character: Livvy / @Kalevi Aare Driver 2 & Character: Michael / @Mattias Hedlund General overview of thread: Two dragon lovers- a hatred for each other because of their school, meet in the Durmstrang dragon stables during the koldo-durm merge Time the thread is taking place: March 2001
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Danielle was cautious as they crept about the school. She was glad to be in her converse and not heels at this time of night. Even with the silencing charm casted, she was still careful of her step. Soon enough they made it and she stood by keeping an eye out. How had they not been caught yet? She was starting to believe the aurors didn't actually patrol the manoir at night. Rather, the students were told this not-yet-proven-lie to get them into their dorms early. She could feel the excitement run through her as they slipped inside. She offered Florian a nod of thanks as she crept in and made her way over to the professor's desk. "Lumos," she revealed her own wand and cast the light spell only once the door had been shut. With one hand, she held the wand high for her to see. With the other, she carefully looked through a drawer of papers. "I gave it to our professor so they could review it and give me some feedback before it was due. I wanted to make sure it was what they wanted. Oh, here they are!" She revealed the four pages of art and laid them on the desk in order. "The Amandine, death, Andriel, and the Iris. I was hoping to do more with it, but for the homework, I think it's enough. I'll turn this into my own project soon enough that I can add to it." She gently slid them across the desk to Florian. "What do you think?"
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The unusually sunny spring day was doing little to raise Audrey’s solemn spirits. It was hard, sometimes, visiting the shelter. She knew she was doing good by volunteering, but it was difficult to look so many homeless animals in the eye. So many pure spirits that just wanted to be loved, that deserved to be cherished. The world was truly unfair. She wasn’t really volunteering for the sake of her application anymore. In truth, she didn’t see how she could leave it behind. She wasn’t sure if she would have time to keep it up once she started at DDS, but she thought she might try.
The interview was weighing on her mind, coming up in just a few days’ time, and so she busied herself, so as not to dwell on it too much. Even the manager of the shelter had seemed surprised that she wanted to spend her spring break cleaning kennels and scooping litter boxes, but Audrey had insisted.
The young woman’s spirits lifted somewhat as she came around the corner, her childhood home coming into view. Milo was waiting for her in the front window, and she smiled to herself as he meowed at her through the glass. She made her way along the walkway and up the front steps, using her key to open the door, noticing (but not thinking much of the fact) that it was already unlocked. The cat was there to greet her at the door, and Audrey scooped him up before she had even closed it behind her. She was overwhelmed by feelings of wanting to give him all the love she couldn’t possibly give to those poor souls in the shelter. She hugged him against her chest, pressing her lips against the soft fur between his ears, and closed the door with her foot.
She heard him before she saw him. The outrage that swept over was swift and absolute. She was not happy that her father was witnessing her in such a vulnerable state, when she had worked so hard to build an image of unwavering strength against him.
As calmly as she could, she set the cat down on the arm of the couch. She felt her jaw clenching, her lips stretching into a thin line, as she all but rolled her eyes at him. She dropped her bag with a thud.
“Yes. Busy.” She barked, as if to insinuate that she was far too busy to talk to him, although the unfortunate reality was that the rest of her afternoon was wide open. She’d have to think fast.
She brushed past him and made her way to the kitchen, grabbing a clean glass from the cupboard. Of course – the pipe. She’d forgotten. Leave it to Amelia to call on her ex-husband to do something that could easily be done by a hired serviceman. She’d never understand the relationship her parents maintained, despite their separation. It often seemed to have absolutely nothing to do with her.
Where was her mother, anyway? How could they ambush her like this?
She turned to the icebox and leaned inside to grab the pitcher of orange juice. She didn’t know what to say to him. He looked so out of place, standing there.
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