19 May 2021, 19:20
Painting Friendship
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It is a true Spring day. The sky is in its softest form of pale blue with only whispers of clouds in the air, the blue offset by the warm, buttery sun.
Atop the rolling green hills of the Scottish countryside sits a lone castle, only seen by the most magical of eyes. In that castle, young minds are growing as lessons are being taught and friendships are being made, well all lessons are being taught except for one.
A lucky group of first years had there last class of the day canceled, told to study up for upcoming exams and enjoy the beautiful day.
While there may be a lone soul or two studying, Aspen Summers is not one of them. Wanting to take a peek at the visiting schools and just relax before the Blossom Ball tomorrow, Aspen brought some nail polish, a portable phonograph, and, because the House Elves insisted when she asked for a picnic blanket, some iced tea, and berries.
The girl is sprawled out on her picnic blanket, basking in the warm sun, listening to the Evermore album by Taylor Swift.
After popping a blueberry into her mouth, Aspen cracks open her nail polish bottle. A bright white color, one that will match the cloud motifs on her dress for the coming evening, was sent to her with the dress by her parents. It was more than the first year was expecting when she wrote home asking for a weather inspired dress, but her parents said it was a gift, a reward for all the hard work she had been putting in over the past year- though Aspen is still planning on putting in extra hours in her family’s restaurant to help make up for the costs.
As she finishes opening up the bottle, Aspen picks up the brush and delicately swipes it over a finger, but somehow manages to get more paint on her fingers than the actual nail. Groaning in frustration, Aspen tries again, and again, and again, but never manages to get the results she so desperately wants.
Banner by Ivy Bellamy
Stat Relevant +2 ACC
Wisdom: 5 Stamina: 7 Arcana: 4 Accuracy: 8 Strength: 6 Evasion: 7
The Aspen Collection
24 May 2021, 15:49
Painting Friendship
[font=times new roman]DATE ..28/5/2021 .. TIME ..AFTERNOON.. OUTFIT ..X ..
TAGS ..@ASPEN SUMMERS [/font]
[font=times new roman]A season of change had fallen on Hogwarts, painting the grounds verdant as the sun nourished the young grass that surrounded the centuries old castle. The air was sweet with blossoms and stirring with the laughter of the students who escaped their studies to bask in the warm glow of the sun. Several new voices could be heard around the campus, no doubt the students who came from abroad to join in the festivities of Spring. As a first year student, he couldn't ignore the buzz in the air about the Blossom Ball. Some spoke of it with excitement, while others who had witnessed how such an event can harbour danger, nervously chewed at their lips and changed the subject to avoid digging up old wounds.
Despite the warnings Lamont had received, it did little to hamper the mystery surrounding the event. Besides, he had been too preoccupied with planning every second of leading up to the moment he would finally swallow his fear and invite the boy he was infatuated with to join him on this possibly daring date. Even now as Lamont thought about it while strolling across the grounds with his violin case tucked safely beneath his arm, his cheeks began to match the powder pink handkerchief stuffed haphazardly in his lapel pocket and anxiety stirred in his chest as if he were standing on a ledge. There was a possibility that if he stitched his heart onto his sleeve, it would get caught on a barbed rejection and completely unravel.
How would he string it all back together when the friendship it was built on starts to crumble? The thought made the evening all the more daunting, something he now began to dread instead of the static feeling of excitement that had been there just a moment before. Lamont had to remind himself that he had not escaped from his studies to fret over what the future would hold. For now, he would keep his feet solidly planted in the present, not on his tippy toes trying to peak over the horizon at the unknown or behind him where a dismal past followed him like a shadow.
His attention was drawn back to the violin that occasionally thunked against his elbow when he heard a distant tune from an artist he hadn't heard of, but was no doubt of the muggle sort. He had brought the instrument to channel his restless energy into something more productive than wearing down the fabric of his sleeve. The sleeves of his cloak were greying from wear by his incessant anxious thumbing habit he picked up recently, threatening to loosen the threads that kept the cuff neatly folded. It would save him a trip to the tailors and a stern lecture from his uncle if he didn't come back with a tattered cloak. It was bad enough that he had grown several inches over the course of the semester. He had to keep hitching up his socks to narrow the gap from the top of his shoe to the cuff of his pants, which looked more like an odd fashion choice than anything else. Today, he gave up on bending down every ten minutes to straighten his sock and instead decided to roll the cuffs of his pants up just above his ankle, just high enough where the grass wouldn't leave stains on his expensive pants.
The melody from across the grounds caught him like a siren's song, and like the sailors of yore, was steered away from his original path to catch a glimpse of the source to satiate his curiosity. He did not have to walk more than a few minutes to find a young girl and what looked like a solo picnic of sorts. While the music was modern in tone, the contraption that was playing it looked centuries old. It seems like the girl was having a lovely picnic, basking in the warm rays of sun. That was, until he saw her struggling to apply whatever was in the tiny bottle to her nail. He instantly recognised it as nail polish, something his mother had worn nearly everyday before her untimely departure and often matched with the flowers she was selling that day. Occasionally, his mother would let him paint her nails with whatever his boyish heart pleased. It wasn't until Lamont's mother had broken her arm that Lamont had time to perfect the perfect swipe of the polish the girl was so desperately trying to achieve as she sat there on the laid out blanket.
Not wanting to startle her and further mess up her nails, he cleared his throat softly to announce his presence. "I hope I didn't ruin your peaceful afternoon, I was just drawn in by the music. What artist is playing? I've never heard her before."
Realising he might've been a bit forward with his questions, stepped back to introduce himself with a shy grin, "Maybe as a peace offering for intruding on your picnic, I could help with that." The first year motioned to her held out hand, hoping she didn't think his comment was a jab at her attempts.
"I-I should introduce myself. My name is Lamont. Lamont Runesby. I'm a first year Ravenclaw. What about you?"[/font]
Despite the warnings Lamont had received, it did little to hamper the mystery surrounding the event. Besides, he had been too preoccupied with planning every second of leading up to the moment he would finally swallow his fear and invite the boy he was infatuated with to join him on this possibly daring date. Even now as Lamont thought about it while strolling across the grounds with his violin case tucked safely beneath his arm, his cheeks began to match the powder pink handkerchief stuffed haphazardly in his lapel pocket and anxiety stirred in his chest as if he were standing on a ledge. There was a possibility that if he stitched his heart onto his sleeve, it would get caught on a barbed rejection and completely unravel.
How would he string it all back together when the friendship it was built on starts to crumble? The thought made the evening all the more daunting, something he now began to dread instead of the static feeling of excitement that had been there just a moment before. Lamont had to remind himself that he had not escaped from his studies to fret over what the future would hold. For now, he would keep his feet solidly planted in the present, not on his tippy toes trying to peak over the horizon at the unknown or behind him where a dismal past followed him like a shadow.
His attention was drawn back to the violin that occasionally thunked against his elbow when he heard a distant tune from an artist he hadn't heard of, but was no doubt of the muggle sort. He had brought the instrument to channel his restless energy into something more productive than wearing down the fabric of his sleeve. The sleeves of his cloak were greying from wear by his incessant anxious thumbing habit he picked up recently, threatening to loosen the threads that kept the cuff neatly folded. It would save him a trip to the tailors and a stern lecture from his uncle if he didn't come back with a tattered cloak. It was bad enough that he had grown several inches over the course of the semester. He had to keep hitching up his socks to narrow the gap from the top of his shoe to the cuff of his pants, which looked more like an odd fashion choice than anything else. Today, he gave up on bending down every ten minutes to straighten his sock and instead decided to roll the cuffs of his pants up just above his ankle, just high enough where the grass wouldn't leave stains on his expensive pants.
The melody from across the grounds caught him like a siren's song, and like the sailors of yore, was steered away from his original path to catch a glimpse of the source to satiate his curiosity. He did not have to walk more than a few minutes to find a young girl and what looked like a solo picnic of sorts. While the music was modern in tone, the contraption that was playing it looked centuries old. It seems like the girl was having a lovely picnic, basking in the warm rays of sun. That was, until he saw her struggling to apply whatever was in the tiny bottle to her nail. He instantly recognised it as nail polish, something his mother had worn nearly everyday before her untimely departure and often matched with the flowers she was selling that day. Occasionally, his mother would let him paint her nails with whatever his boyish heart pleased. It wasn't until Lamont's mother had broken her arm that Lamont had time to perfect the perfect swipe of the polish the girl was so desperately trying to achieve as she sat there on the laid out blanket.
Not wanting to startle her and further mess up her nails, he cleared his throat softly to announce his presence. "I hope I didn't ruin your peaceful afternoon, I was just drawn in by the music. What artist is playing? I've never heard her before."
Realising he might've been a bit forward with his questions, stepped back to introduce himself with a shy grin, "Maybe as a peace offering for intruding on your picnic, I could help with that." The first year motioned to her held out hand, hoping she didn't think his comment was a jab at her attempts.
"I-I should introduce myself. My name is Lamont. Lamont Runesby. I'm a first year Ravenclaw. What about you?"[/font]
16 Jul 2021, 20:58
Painting Friendship
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Aspen is not the most patient of children, as, after all, she is still a child. When she attempts something and it does not go to plan, she can be quick to abandon it and switch to something easier. As she was about to give up, Aspen notices a boy in a suit walking towards her. An odd choice of outfit, but he has a kind face, something many kids at this school seem to lack. Not wanting to look like she was staring, Aspen grabbed the polish at a final attempt but is startled by the boy clearing his throat to ask her a question.
Aspen sets the polish down and quickly wipes it off before looking back up at the boy. "Oh it is no trouble, I am playing Taylor Swift a popular human... er muggle artist."
The boy then steps back, as if embarrassed or coming to his senses, "Oh um, thank you for the offer but I really do not want to pull you away from anything you may be doing. But you are welcome to sit if you want?"
The girl shifts a bit, making room for Lamont to sit and pours him a glass of iced tea. "Oh, I'm Aspen, a Hufflepuff."
Banner By Ivy Bellamy
Stat Relevant +2 ACC
Wisdom: 5 Stamina: 7 Arcana: 4 Accuracy: 8 Strength: 6 Evasion: 7
The Aspen Collection