ERRAND Embroidery 101 Finished

Mod Post

Flash Holmwood – 5 house points
Alexis Asterion – 5 house points
Cassandra Ironwoods – 5 house points
Clay McGlinchy – 5 house points
Cassandra Ledesma – 5 house points
Amadea Campbell – 5 house points
Katrina Walker – 5 house points
Dealla Prince – 5 house points
Alan Vanes – 5 house points
Jo Morgan – 5 house points
Damion White – 5 house points
Maria Dee – 5 house points
Serena Towers – 5 house points
Elspeth Gollens – 5 house points
Airlia Winter – 5 house points
Alexander Varellion – 5 house points
Ileen Knight – 5 house points
Mars T'ien – 5 house points
Jack Burnett – 5 house points
Sylvain Indarys – 5 house points

All of the above participants will receive their points shortly.
[P.S. Thank you to Ruby Cazares for putting together this list]

Already Reached Limit
Evelynn Decipio – Sorry, you've already reached the limit of house points per year. Will owl with more information.

Extended for 24 hours
Anyone who wishes to enter for a last chance, this errand has been extended for 24 hours. Anyone who meets the word count within that time will receive the rewards too.

Dmitri isn't one for menial labor. And no, it didn't come from an innate sense of superiority because of an aristocratic upbringing, nor was it an acquired repulsion of workers and laborers. No, it was the fact that physical labor left so much to the hands of fate and fortune--no matter how perfect the boy wanted things to go, there was always going to be some type of crap that happens to all the things he does. And when something indeed does happen, the boy makes sure he'd start the process all over again just so he could get the perfect results that he desired--he was nothing if not thorough. Which, considering his relationship with luck, left him redoing and remaking things multitudes of times, getting much more increasingly frustrated and heated and sloppy each time, turning into this vicious cycle of perfectionism and regret. And you know how that will go.

It is then understandable when the boy walked into the embroidery area grumbling and muttering to himself how much he regretted coming there immediately. He wasn't even doing this for himself or for his "self-enrichment" or some bull like that people liked to spout about extracurricular activities. Aside from the extra house-points it gave his house in their pursuit of the House Cup, it was also a chance for reparations from the mess he made of the last errand his Head of House hosted.

Dmitri accidentally called her old. And might have read "I could have expelled you" implied in the letter Professor Jensen sent him back.

Joining this activity, though not self-enriching, was entirely self-serving. He'd have to make sure nothing--and absolutely nothing jeopardizes his academic place in this educational institution. He would endure this bland, frustrating, and repetitive torture of all things just to preserve his dignity.

Sitting through the brief lesson was the highest form of torture he could have ever experienced in his entire life--and that's coming from a nerd! It was just a bunch of embroidery jargon that didn't seem interesting nor engaging enough to garner any of the attendees' attention if their blank-eyed stares and non-stop prattling were any indication. Dmitri figured embroidery was such a simple art anybody could pick up on the first try! It surely didn't seem hard. You just had to push the needle in and push it back out--over and over and over... and over again until you either die of boredom or finish the artwork. In this case, the Slytherin resolved himself to live through the bone-crushing dullness of the job in favor of preventing his expulsion.

His planned design was simple enough. It was just a few words on a single-color background. It shouldn't be that hard. And for a while, it was.

The more Dmitri got into the rhythm of the needlework, the more he saw why many people did this for a hobby. It was so painfully simple that one could just space out and mindlessly fill the stretched fabric with the appropriate colors. It was something one could do in their sleep--something one can pass the time without actually exerting too much effort.

This newfound realization transformed Dmitri from an unwilling, muttering participant, into a hurricane--a flurry of activity.

But it didn't take long before things started to go awry.

It happened at the blink of an eye. One moment, the needle was going smoothly into the cloth, and the next, it was embedded inside of his finger.

"FU--!" Dmitri started to curse, recoiling at the sight of red beads of liquid stemming from his finger. "...ck..." At the end, he lowered his voice and glanced cautiously at his Head of House, hoping beyond hope that she didn't hear him cuss. The boy stifled another loud expletive when he looked down at what happened to his masterpiece.

See, when Dmitri pricked his finger and recoiled quickly back, he didn't notice that he was still clutching his needle and thread on one finger. As he pulled back quite violently, the thread sliced through the already-tensile fabric that was the base of his embroidery, unraveling at least half of his hard work into loose curls of cotton thread. He couldn't even easily Reparo that crap as it would only serve to fix the torn fabric and not the unraveled threads. It was much easier to toss the bloodstained mess of thread and fabric and start anew.

Resisting the urge to cry out loud in frustration and cursing (magically) the nearest target, Dmitri grabbed a new embroidery ring roughly and violently out from a nearby basket and started redoing his work with renewed vigor. In fact, it looked like he was more likely stabbing his archnemesis with a sharp needle than actual embroidery. Needless to say, it was obvious Dmitri didn't cope well with failed efforts, fortuitous events, and having to redo a task over again.

Once, in primary school back in the Philippines, all the pupils were tasked to grow mung beans during their science lesson of germination or some other thing like that. It was simple enough. Students were given glass jars with no lids, a large piece of cotton, and a handful of mung beans. Dmitri and his other peers were asked to soak the cotton balls with water, plop it into the glass jar, and scatter the beans on top, and that was supposedly gonna be all they needed. They'd be able to watch the beans turn into sprouts and then into full-grown plants by the end of the month--it was all gonna be educational and crap. See, the boy wasn't anything but over-the-top and competitive, so Dmitri steeled himself to have the best and most beautiful thing of Mung beans out of all his classmates and he'd be praised and probably receive loads of gold stars for his efforts. Needless to say, he made sure his jar had the most sunlit space near the classroom windows and had the most maintained jar and cotton ball anyone could ever manage. Lo and behold, putting the jar in such a precarious spot did not do any wonders for it. In fact, it was what spelled its doom. Because during playtime, his classmates were playing roughly near the area and accidentally knocked over his jar--breaking it and flourishing plants inside it onto the floor. That was the first time Dmitri would ever see red. After coming to, he'd find all the other jars shattered onto the floor, and upon recollection with his time with the school's guidance counselor, he found out that it was him who raged and threw all the other jars onto the ground. If Dmitri couldn't have perfect plants, nobody can.

What Dmitri was feeling while he hastily redid his embroidery was pretty similar. It was a barely-restrained rage that boiled under his skin, threatening to boil over. It was the poor embroidery kit that had to deal with his frustrations--his treatment of it was anything but gentle.

This attitude would greatly affect his results as he finished his work.

Words: 1140/1000

RESULTS

Reducio

Imagine this but messier xD

Interacting with @Hjørdis Jensen

Margo skipped excitedly across the courtyard, her smile remaining intact despite her stumbling on an unfortunately raised cobblestone. For a second, the sun blinded her and she saw the figures of a mysterious dark-haired girl and two kittens by the opposite wall. She blinked and shook her head with a small shrug. Nostalgia was not something with which she was accustomed. Nice days came and went like the rise and fall of the sun, and today was sure to be a good day indeed.

It had all started when Margo had opened her eyes that morning and decided that her four-poster was getting boring. The tiger-like stripes of her cat, Hades', fur were the only decoration on her duvet - something that needed to change pronto. Two plain cushions were just not enough for a fashion-oriented girl's sleeping fortress. She spent a big part of her life in that chilly dorm and it was time she gave it some character. She'd been planning to spend some quality time embroidering anyway, so when she'd read about Professor Jensen's embroidery errand, she'd been ready to cry with happiness. Well, not cry. She was much tougher than that!

But it didn't change the fact that she was being given house points for something she loved. It was almost like the Head of House could read minds. Margo scrutinised the professor carefully as she approached before shooting the woman a respectful nod. Legillimens couldn't just surf people's mind like the muggle Ontinet could they? Margo had broken some rules that she'd like to remain unrecognised for, and besides, nobody who sort-of-kind-of hid from their emotions liked to have their mind cracked open like a fortune cookie. But what were fortune cookies? Hadn't muggles heard of Seers? Biscuits couldn't tell the future! Just like it was unlikely that Professor Jensen could read her mind - and thank goodness for that.

Embroidery had been Margo's passion for as long as she could remember and she had always loved the first part best. She loved selecting all her colours and brainstorming the possibilities of creation. So what did her comfortable fortress of darkness need? Margo thought the slogan 'Independent souls since 2006' seemed like an adequate representation of her and Hades' priorities, but Hades hadn't even know 2019, let alone Margo's birth year. Besides, she wanted something that would appeal to her furry little princeling too - he wasn't her second in command for nothing. Her stomach rumbled in thought. Food! She could embroider some food. Both she and Hades had giant appetites and hugging a cushion with food embroidered on it was sure to bring tasty dreams. But what kind of food?

Margo looked around thoughtfully, her mind going back to muggle fortune cookies. A stroke of inspiration suddenly hit her like a lightning bolt. It was only due to her nonimpeccable balance that she even managed to remain standing. A burger! Wasn't that what they were called? An ingenious muggle creation introduced to her by her friend Sean. Margo's pride swelled at her muggle prowess. Now all she had to do was figure out the Ontinet. But that mission was for another time. Right now she had to focus on creating the best burger possible.

Margo fished out some green, brown and yellow threads from the box to create her fabric-style burger. If she spread some linen across a hoop until it was taught and embroidered on that then she could easily transfer it onto a cushion. She tested out a needle on the pad of her thumb and frowned at it’s bluntness. Ah well. At least her Head of House was smart. The scissors also looked distinctly unthreatening, but somehow a boy in front of her had managed to draw blood with his needle. Margo half though that the professor might have sterilised the equipment too. He’d survive.

Margo traced out the rough shape of a burger on her hoop, careful to make the cheese layer big enough. She liked cheese in sandwiches a lot. A burger couldn’t be too different. When Margo went to the muggle supermarket with her mum, she couldn’t believe the variety of cheeses they sold. Muggles might not have magic, but they definitely lived in style. Advertising a burger in her dorm might not be a bad idea either. She liked to think of herself as open-minded, and displaying a muggle food could inspire curiosity from others as well. She mentally patted herself on the back for her excellent decision making.

As Margo stitched, she hummed slightly under her breath. Her guitar playing was coming along excellently, and sometimes she even dreamed of forming a new band like the Weird Sisters. Unfortunately they were getting old now, having played their peak around the time of the dark war. Those famous heroes didn’t know how lucky they were to have been able to see them live... if you forgot about all the war stuff. But if Margo was to form a band, she’d have to manage gigs, and perhaps that responsibility was a little bit above each her eye-line at the moment. She was more suited to the stylist type of role. Imagine what cool t-shirts she could make for a rock band... certainly more fashionable embroidery than a burger.

But Margo liked her burger, no matter what anybody else might say about it... even her own judgemental inner voice. The colours were vibrant, if a little unrealistic, and Margo felt herself getting hungrier by the minute. She unfastened the linen from the hoop and went to deposit it back in Professor Jensen’s supplies. Margo was still a little wary of the Professor’s possible mind reading abilities, but assured herself that her honourable intentions towards Muggle awareness couldn’t make any kind of bad impression. She tilted her face towards the sun and shoved her piece of embroidery in one of her many numerous pockets. She shouted a thanks to the Professor and ambled back up towards the castle. Hopefully she could get herself some lunch and show her princeling the new addition to their fortress. But where could she get a spare cushion? Hm, perhaps it was time to test her brother’s knowledge on furniture transfiguration. Surely nobody would miss one rickety desk? She could also tell Toby about all of her newfound muggle knowledge. Now wasn’t she a smart cookie? Not that cookies could do anything besides tell the future...

Word count: 1072

Bridget didn't have a lot of experience with a needle and thread. There were simply so many better uses of her time; why sit and stitch when you could read or sketch? Or, better yet, why do the activity she could only picture grandmas doing when she could climb trees and explore? Still, rewards were excellent motivation. Sure, it was only five house points, but Slytherin was behind Ravenclaw and she wasn't about to just sit around and let her house lose. So if that meant sitting around like someone's grandma and poke a needle through fabric, then she would do it.

If she was entirely honest, it was really all that bad. Sewing was still an art form, and Bridget liked art. True, she expressed her creativity through pencils on paper most of the time, preferring to draw, but that didn't mean she couldn't find some enjoyment. After all, making houses for toads had been fun enough and she'd enjoyed decorating cookies. She hadn't done much of any art as of late, though. There was simply too much else to think about, worry over. Since the spider attack it had been made very clear that nowhere was safe. Add in the interrogation of Marion Davenport, and there were enough puzzle pieces she just couldn't fit together to keep her up at night and away from her sketch pad.

The second year was uncharacteristically late to the errand. Sure, it wasn't as though there was a strict arrival time, but most of the students were already wrapping up. She'd just have to work fast, then. That was the thing about these errands--as long as you showed up and did what they told you to do, it didn't matter if you did a half job because you'd still get that reward. Maybe such reasoning was strange coming from such a hard-working girl, but she didn't care. All she cared about was obtaining an extra five house points.

It was a nice day to be outside and she had to admit, being in the sunlight just felt safer than the damp, dark Hogwarts corridors where literally anything could be hiding. The weather was warming up, summer approaching quickly, and Bridget had compensated for the heat by wearing shorts. No amount of heat would achieve her shedding long sleeves and her single black glove. They were the only things hiding the terrible black veins and she wasn't comfortable enough even seeing them herself to show the scars off. She had found the thinnest, most threadbare sweatshirt in her possession, but in the end no degree of sweating and discomfort would have her showing off the scars. Supporting Illowy was one thing, but just doing it because it was hot was another. She could handle a little heat.

Trying to not draw to much attention to her horribly late self, she quickly selected a square of fabric and a embroidery hoop, only stopping long enough to make sure the hoop was smaller than the fabric. Snatching up both pale green and deep purple floss, a needle, scissors, and a marker, she made her way to one of the walls of the courtyard so she could lean against it.

Threading the needle, she learned, wasn't something you could rush. Bridget did had a sharp eye but even that wouldn't allow her to do it fast. With a small huff of annoyance, she slowed down, licked her finger to wet the fraying ends of the thread, and carefully guided it through. There. Then, tucking a strand of her thick brown hair behind her ear, she uncapped the marker. Well, what to embroider? Years of sketching had taught her much of the best inspiration came from her surroundings, so she scanned the courtyard. A patch of lavender caught her eye. That would do. Tracing the shape of a few lavender stems and petals, she closed the hoop over the fabric. It was a little messy, but again, she didn't care.

Another thing that wasn't wise to do in a hurry--the entire process of embroidery. The first few stitches went off without a hitch, but on the fourth she stabbed her own finger. Bridget bit down hard to stop herself from screaming. Seriously? Her poked finger now had a drop of blood pooling on it, which would definitely stain her fabric. With a sigh, she dug through the satchel she brought everywhere until she found an extra napkin. Thank goodness. Tearing a strip off the napkin, she wrapped in rather clumsily around her damaged extremity. That was that, then.

After that, Bridget decided not finishing the whole thing in time sounded a lot better than spearing all her fingers, especially considering she had to be able to play Quidditch. After a while, her furrowed eyebrows and fierce concentration ebbed into a train of thoughts and questions. Had Marion ever participated in an errand? Where did she sleep if she didn't return to the Dormitory? Had she been entirely honest in the Owlery, or was she hiding something? Considering she was a Slytherin, she probably was hiding something. But was it something big and important? Something they needed to know? Was she somehow connected to the spider attack or the mess of the Masked Ball? What did she know about the murder of Dolores Umbridge that she wasn't telling them?

Slowly, her fabric started to sport an actual design. It was far from her best work, yet there was something nice about doing something new, something different. She could point out dozens of mistakes and she had managed to poke her finger again, the second time thankfully without drawing blood. Still, she didn't mind. It was nice to have something she wasn't pressured to be good at, to have all the answers to. And in the gray winter months, or while she was at home missing Hogwarts, maybe the imperfect little flowers could bring a little color, a few happy memories.

Finally finished, she removed the embroidery hoop and returned all the materials, safe for the fabric with her threaded design, of course. Some students were handing their finished product to Professor Jensen to complete, but Bridget liked it as just a square. She could frame it if she wanted. With a quick thank you to her Head of House for organizing the errand, she headed back to the castle. Maybe the errand had been just the break she needed to go figure every other much more complicated thing out.

Word Count | 1083/1000
Errand Complete

Reducio

It was quite nice to see that students were present and actually turning up. In all honesty, the head of Slytherin expected that no one would show up. It seemed like the sort of thing that children did not really enjoy. Perhaps it was her showing her age but nonetheless, seeing students appearing made her happier than she would care to actually admit.

She greeted the students as they showed up in return. A few even came up to her and asked her for her help. Picking up a piece of linen that was medium sized, she set it up into the embroidery hoop. Sometimes, the hardest part was actually coming up with a design that you wanted to make. But not today. She knew what she wanted to create, she just had to make it. Hjørdis collected some embroidery thread in a few different colours and the rest of her supplies, seating herself down in the corner. Every so often, she would put down her own work to help a student with theirs. Once she had, she would return to it.

The first student to approach her was a Gryffindor that she did not really know, who asked her to create the writing. Nodding, Hjørdis picked up a pen and scribbled down a 'Gryfferin' in her handwriting, which was naturally cursive. The concept was interesting. A mix of two houses that were not normally seen working in collaboration.

Hjørdis internally cringed a little when @Alexis Asterion mentioned that her grandmother had taught her. In truth, Grandma Jensen was the inspiration and reason behind Hjørdis actually knowing how to do it too. However, it made her realise that maybe, just maybe, she was getting old. In the eyes of these students, she was starting to teach them things that grandparents taught. That was terrifying. Nonetheless, Hjørdis helped her with her inquiries and showed her how it was done. Perhaps next time, she would have to do something more suitable for younger audience. What did teens even do these days? How was she supposed to know?! After some time, Alexis finished up, "I think your grandmother would be proud," Hjørdis replied as she looked at the finished result. The 'R' was very nicely written, she appreciated the penmanship. And creating an embroidery designed bird was easier said than done. Alexis did well.

@Katrina Walker's words were music to her ears. If there was one thing Hjørdis loved, it was how relaxing crafting could be. It was why she crafted. More importantly, it was why she encouraged the children to do so too.

Spotting a very hesitant @Ileen Knight loitering around the table but unsure if she ought to join in, Hjørdis decided to speak up, "Miss Knight, it won't embroider itself if you keep staring at it. Why not just give it a go?" She asked the young child. It was rather sweet but the girl seemed a bit nervous. "No need to apologise," Hjørdis replied, waving it off. Really, most eleven - twelve year olds had not. Hjørdis was not surprised, nor did she think it was anything to be embarrassed about. The whole point was to learn. She showed her a few stitches and helped her through the process. What Hjørdis did not expect is that the first year would return when she had completed the embroidery, only to gift it to her. The Head of Slytherin blinked, as she took the gift from Ileen, "It's beautiful, thank you," She responded, accepting the embroidery. It was far better than the girl thought it was - especially given it was her first attempt. It was also the thought that counted.

Hjørdis nodded as @Mars T'ien approached to ask about the running stitch. Grabbing a spare piece of linen and another hoop, the professor demonstrated the stitch a few times before handing it to the student to practice a little, guiding her if she needed it. After some time, Mars reappeared once more. Her question caused the professor to quirk an eyebrow. She was the only student that wanted to keep the materials. They came from her own pocket, rather than the school's. However, it was refreshing to see someone ask than to just assume they could keep it (aka stealing it), "You may keep it," She agreed with a nod, not bothering to ask for payment. She had no intention of taking money from a student.

A number of students also created their own works and then left. It was nice to see a few familiar - and rather unexpected faces too. @Flash Holmwood seemed to be dedicated in his own creation. She could not see it properly but from where she was, she liked seeing how much colour he put into it. It looked like the whole hoop was filled, which took some dedication. Hjørdis could not help but wonder who he was making it for.

@Cassandra Ironwoods had managed to get herself a little hurt but despite the pricks, she persevered. Her finished result was rather sweet. Hjørdis could only quirk an eyebrow at the interactions of @Maria Dee and @Serena Towers. Maria seemed to be getting herself tangled in her own web of an embroidery and Serena seemed to be far more focused on her rat than anything else.

@Cassandra Ledesma seemed to be having quite a lot of fun, giggling to herself and creating the work out of art. It spoke wonders about her character that she was going to deliver the package straight away, gifting it. It was a very sweet thing to do. Without being intimidated by the large blank canvas, @Amadea Campbell picked a large hoop and got to work immediately. Her floral design was so elegant.

Hjørdis found herself looking at a small Ravenclaw by the name of @Dealla Prince, who seemed to have just... given up... with the embroidery. Instead of actually creating anything with the hoop and the linen, she went straight for the embroidery floss. The thread itself was soon turned into a bracelet, from what the professor could see. It was unexpected, it was definitely wrong. But... she liked the creativity. If this was a lesson, Dealla would have failed. But this was an activity for fun. And that meant, Hjørdis had no problem with the students being creative in their own ways.

There were a few who presented their house spirit. @Alan Vanes was one of them. He created an adorable lion design. Hjørdis had no idea who it was for but it was cute, nonetheless. She assisted him a little but the end results were entirely down to his own success. That was something to be proud of indeed.

What might have surprised Hjørdis the most was the appearance of one @Dmitri Jones. She could not help but smirk a little as she heard him almost curse. It was clear that he had managed to prick himself with the needle but she said nothing, just silencing working on her embroidery as she pretended not to notice him. But she was literally smirking at her embroidery hoop if he did look at her.

Although neither of them would know, @Margo White was exactly the sort of person that Hjørdis would run errands for. The kind who just needed the opportunity to do something that they loved doing, to just have fun and relax. Margo was a tough cookie though, she would not cry. But she was happy and that was enough.

Hjørdis finished up her own design. The blonde coloured embroidery thread was the portion that took the longest. She cut the thread, curling it and continuing. Honestly, she had no idea if the design was right but it was the thought that counted. It looked like it should be right. She was pretty pleased with the results.

Once she was done and everyone had left, she quickly began to clean up and move everything back into the castle.

The Design She's Making:

Reducio

[THREAD FINISHED]

((OOC Note: Sylvain and Jack continued their conversation in this thread here, but it was meant to continue after the posts made in this thread: [1 - Jack], [2 - Sylvain], [3 - Jack]. Permission has been given by Sylvain to re-post the same posts here for the sake of story-tracking.))

Sylvain Indarys wrote: 1 Jun 2020, 18:19"You got a last name? First names seem kind of...intimate to me to use too regularly. Especially since we've just met."

"Indarys is my last name." Well, it sort of is. He honestly appreciated the opportunity to remain formal for once, as there was something about formality that helped with his insecurities. So many of his incidents this year had been due to a lack of awareness for social decorum, so the invitation and restraint offered by his neighbor helped him to feel better by a significant margin.

"I do tend to get a bit focused and finish things quickly." He eyed the sketch the other boy had made, but made no attempt at prying to see what was hidden behind his arm. "It's caused me to make mistakes in the past, but I suppose I value finishing a project over achieving perfection."

He pondered Burnett's jesting and teasing. It wasn't that he found it harmful or rude, in fact, he quite enjoyed having his more eccentric side pointed out and teased for once. It was the hypocrisy of his feigned intimacy to create a nickname for Sylvain so quickly after asking for his formal name. It was playful and welcome, but he hoped the hypocrisy didn't over-extend into his other beliefs and opinions.

"I have no idea what you should embroider, but I'm certain that if you know what you're doing and you make an honest effort, somebody will want it." He didn't know the Burnett's life situation, but he assumed that since he was here at Hogwarts, Jack had to have someone to offer his creation to.

Another few moments of silent contemplation passed as Sylvain watched Jack scribble a few pieces of some sort of symbolic art in the form of an embroidery pattern. Clearly defined symbolism. Easily recognizable patterns. Was he trying to make a personal crest? Was he making one up on the spot? Sylvain thought it was an impressive display of creativity.

It felt rather invasive to ask a probing question without a good reason, and Sylvain had little to share so he could follow up on or relate to with the matter. He didn't even know his own real last name, let alone his family crest. He hoped to avoid the topic of ancestry altogether.

"Excuse me Burnett. I had a few ideas I could share. I'm certain plenty of the other students already had the idea first, but do you think that you could potentially make the Slytherin House Crest?"

It was a fairly complicated design, sure, but Sylvain's suggestion was a solid starting point, and the design could be dumbed down if Jack wasn't a perfectionist. He'd often romanticized knights and heraldry as a child, so he knew plenty about the design process to help him. He just didn't want to invade his acquaintance's privacy, or overstep his formality.

"If you don't like that idea, then maybe a family crest would help? You could give it to your parents, or maybe your grandparents would like that?" He asked as a follow up question, hoping the two might be able to relate via familial connections. Sylvain loved his mothers.

"I however, designed my own picture. It's the people I met this year. I know that might seem a little cheesy, but they helped me grow up a bit, so I thought it might be a nice memory to keep." He pushed the imperfect embroidery over in all of its flawed glory. He wasn't sure what reaction it would illicit from Jack, but he hoped that it drove him to do the project for himself.

"I think there's something to be said in crafting for yourself too. Is there anything from the school year you don't want to forget?"

Jack Burnett wrote: 6 Jun 2020, 08:18"Indarys," Jack repeated, intrigued by the sound. "Sounds kinda exotic. Mind me asking what kind of name it is; what language it comes from?"

His polite smile broadened briefly as Sylvain explained that he was the sort who could focus and finish things quickly; that he valued completing projects over perfecting them. Jack could understand and respect that. However, he was the opposite, preferring to take his time as more of a perfectionist. He thought that everything should be done to the best of one's abilities in order to do something well and put one's all into their work. With the concepts of 'haste makes waste' and 'quality over quantity' stuck in his head, he liked to think he could finish a project and achieve a sort of 'perfection' he could be satisfied with...even if it did take a little longer than usual. Still, the other boy hadn't asked to know about his own opinion, so Jack didn't want to seem rude by countering the other boy's with his own of the blue.

"I have no idea what you should embroider, but I'm certain that if you know what you're doing and you make an honest effort, somebody will want it."

That comment caused Jack to chuckle. "I'm not going to go looking for someone to give something specific I make to. I'm looking for something to make to give to someone specific," he explained. "I have plenty of people I'd want to make things for. I just don't know what to make. If it's just something random to give away to someone random, what's the point? All the work put into it will have been meaningless."

He stared back down at the blank cloth in the frame for a little longer until Sylvain spoke up once more, politely drawing his attention with an 'excuse me' and offering the suggestion of embroidering the Slytherin House Crest.

"Huh..." Jack thought about that for a minute. "...That might work..." Who would he give that to, though? Ruka? Ruka would like it, no doubt, but if he was seen as a Gryffindor with a Slytherin crest? As if he didn't have enough reasons to be called a traitor to his house by jerks like Rafael just because he stuck around Jack. No, Jack wasn't going to add to his troubles with something that thoughtless. What else could he do then, though? He figured his housemates themselves probably had more than enough things and possessions embroidered with the design. If they weren't sick enough of looking at it already, of course.

"If you don't like that idea, then maybe a family crest would help? You could give it to your parents, or maybe your grandparents would like that?"

The redhead blinked once in confusion before realization dawned on him."Oh! Don't know if we're even fancy enough to have a family crest," he admitted almost apologetically. "Sounds like more of a wealthy, aristocratic, pureblood thing to me. I'm just a mudblood."

Sylvain was already talking about his own custom design, however; the one of 'the people he met that year', apparently, though Jack sincerely hoped they weren't the only people he'd met. The comment about keeping memories and not wanting to forget anything from the school year got him thinking, though. It really had been one heck of a first year at Hogwarts, and not just because he had just been introduced to the wizarding world, either.

"I...can't really think of anything I'd want to make for myself," he answered slowly after thinking it over. "As for things from the school year, sure, but...nothing suitable to embroider." The Slytherin attempted to contemplate this idea deeper.

Hmm...if Sylvain had embroidered his friends...maybe Jack could embroider his...enemies? No, that was stupid; then people would just think his enemies were his friends. Why was this so difficult?

Maybe if he could figure out who, exactly, he wanted to give something to, that would be easier. Except...there were at least three people. Well, if Sylvain had taken the time and trouble to do multiple projects, why couldn't he?

Getting an idea, Jack began to mark up a design with a washable marker before starting on the task at hand. It made him grin just thinking about it. He supposed it did represent a memory of the year after all...giving a bit of humor to a more grave event of the past.

Perhaps with this, Selim's guilt could ease up on him the slightest bit.

Sylvain Indarys wrote: 7 Jun 2020, 05:00"Sounds kinda exotic. Mind me asking what kind of name it is; what language it comes from?"

He did mind that he asked, or rather he minded a whole lot about the answer and had always wanted to know the answer for himself, but it just wasn’t time enough for him to learn yet. He hadn’t even the faintest idea on where to start looking for his family name, or who might have known his birth parents.

“Sorry Jack, err Burnette. Sorry.” Mouthing the second sorry, he raised his fingers in apology. It was clear the way he grimaced he didn’t quite know what to say to the question. So he mustered his most confident “I don’t know the answer.” He gave the student a wide shrug and let his eyes drift back down to the table as he frowned.

He was worried at first he might come off as uninteresting or unintelligent for not knowing his own last name, but it was hardly something anyone else he met or knew had knowledge of. A cursory google search on the ancient dial up computer back home had come up with nothing. Not to mention his adoptive parents were muggles. For all Sylvain knew, he could’ve been anything from muggle born to pureblood. He hadn’t placed much stock in knowing since arriving to Hogwarts either so he hadn’t dug into it.

Perhaps Burnette had some cursory knowledge of Wizarding families, no; he had just confessed he was a mudblood. There really wasn’t much chance he knew anything either. He’d have to bother with it later. For now he didn’t want to let his mind wander too far from Jack and his musings on who did and did not deserve his crafts. He was spending a lot of time deliberating what to make, Sylvain spotted it as a strength that complimented his own strengths. Jack had potential to teach Syl something he had little of. Patience.

He watched on as the other boy crafted what appeared to be some sort of warning, not all that dissimilar from the one he’d kept on his door back home. This one had an incredibly specific message about stabbing people. Sylvain chuckled at the humor implied in its creation, and considered that Burnette probably knew the person he made it for well. Sylvain was curious as to just who it was intended for.

“Is that for you or someone else? If it’s for you, I’d hate to see what it’s like in the Slytherin common room if it warrants that you need a door hanger like that.” He smiled wryly at his own joke, the corner of his mouth rising up a bit as he winked.
He liked the playful attitude Mr. Burnette brought to the embroidery table, but worried their lingering beyond the other students might mean they’d been working a little too long on one thing.

Sylvain stood up in his seat and pushed his chair in. He lingered just long enough to hear what Jack had to say to him, but after hearing his response, Sylvain would decide to wander his way back to the Ravenclaw Tower after a brief and friendly goodbye. He still needed to help Charlie with the riddle, and wanted to write a letter to Willow while the excitement of making their friendship bracelet was still on his mind.

Jack Burnett wrote: 11 Jun 2020, 18:16"Sorry Jack, err Burnett. Sorry." the other boy apologized. "I don’t know the answer."

Jack blinked before chuckling in response. "That's alright. I'm sure most people don't know the origins of their last name anyway." He wondered what had the other boy frowning after that, as if he was potentially more troubled by his not knowing the answer than Jack was. Perhaps it was a sore subject for him or something.

Or, being a Ravenclaw, maybe the other boy just didn't like admitting to not knowing something. Still, Jack thought, it's better to be honest than lie. He thought better of the eagle for speaking the truth rather than attempting to make something up for the sake of protecting his pride.

After he had drawn up a pattern and started on his own work - a funny little warning about the embroidery itself being proof about having the patience to stab numerous times - Sylvain uttered a few chuckles of his own in amusement. Jack looked up, a crooked smile emerging on his face when he was asked about who the piece was being made for.

"It's for someone else," he confirmed, thinking of Selim. "But they're a dorm mate of mine, so you're probably better off not knowing what it's like among us Slytherins anyway."

A shade of mixed emotions, bitter and troubled, darkened the redhead's face as he stared at his work for a moment. "This was meant to make light of...something that had happened between us," he murmured ambiguously. "An inside joke of sorts. I just hope he's able to see the humor in it."

When Sylvain stood up, Jack was briefly distracted by his movement, guessing the other kid must have finally considered himself done. Well, he himself had taken long enough to pick his own design. Still, now that he had started on one, there were a couple of others that came to mind. He decided that he would stay a bit longer.

Once he had finished speaking to him, however, the Ravenclaw seemed ready to take off. Jack responded with an equally brief farewell of his own before finishing up his work and going to get something from his own Common Room.

In a little bit, the boy had returned with a plain white shirt. It wasn't his, but no one needed to know that. If its owner didn't like what Jack decided to try doing with it, he could always remove it after or even just buy him a new shirt. However, a part of him hoped Flash would appreciate the gesture. When he was finished, a pair of two, more-or-less matching, symmetrical blackbirds (not hummingbirds, as shown in the picture) were depicted with wings outstretched, facing each other from each corner of the shirt collar.

Two down, one to go. By that time, nearly all of the other students had finished their work and most of the supplies had been put away, but since the hosting professor was Jack's own Head of House, he was able to continue even once they were meant to return to the Slytherin Common Room. After having done one piece on a frame and another directly on a shirt, Jack wanted to try something a little different for his last idea.

After asking some questions about how to go about making what he hoped to create, the first year finally began his most ambitious embroidery endeavor of all: a brooch in the shape of a flaming fox head (similar to, but not exactly like this). It ended up turning out much better than Jack had expected, actually, and he guessed it was due to having practiced so diligently on his first two attempts.

When his final work of embroidery was finished, Jack carefully wrapped each one in tissue paper in order to leave each gift hidden somewhere where each of their respective, intended recipients would be sure to find them. Pleased with the overall outcome of the embroidery errand, the boy flexed his sore hands. Even if the process fascinated him and the results ended up turning out pretty neat-looking, he didn't think he would be attempting such a feat again anytime soon.

@Sylvain Indarys & Jack Burnett have left the thread.