1 May 2018, 02:24
Restoration
This wasn't the worst thing he has ever seen in his life, it was quite tame and he didn't find it anything horrific. The damage could have been worse and he was thankful it was contained the way it was. Fire was a vicious beast but tamable, even a conjuration like Fiendfyre would have ravaged this forest to the ground. It was early in the morning, albeit he didn't entirely sleep much. Morning and midnight seemed to meld like two in the same, perhaps he was drinking too much of that coffee.
He fixed the flatcap on his head, shrugging his shoulders as he pulled his wand from his side. It may seem like a peculiar thing to have, but he had a holster to hold his wand in the same way a gun was held. It made things easier for him, especially since he often misplaced things as of late. He was waiting for Maya, this seemed like something he didn't need to bother the other Head of Houses about. Plus she seemed like she needed something to do, he'd feel anxious being so stationery after the announcement of the mask.
He took a step towards the debris, his feet sinking into some of the ash and dirt. Sergei was simply glad that there was no body found among the burnt treeline. All he was doing at the moment was inspecting the damage, it was easy to tell where the epicenter of the blast came from. What was the casted spell? It looked like the work of confringo, but it seemed that the fire was something more fierce and constant. "Incendio, perhaps." he muttered, leaning down to pick up a piece of bark. Part of it already came off, falling to the ground as he analyzed it.
Instant incineration, it ate at it quickly. It must have been the casted fire. There was no word that reached his ears about the students at the campout, but he hoped that they would recover well. Although he trusted Lear's abilities, a lot of factors simply seemed to have gone wrong. The bark was dropped on the floor and he began rolling up the sleeves of his dress shirt. What spell could he use to help this? There was no repair for this, but what is dead doesn't always mean it would stay dead.
The man knew this well enough from experience, from the ashes, life could still grow. Sergei used his boot to scrape the ash and dirt away, slowly crouching to dig his hand into the earth. It was a little dry, but a few more Scottish rainfalls and this place should be good as new. Scooping up the dirt, he rolled it around his hand and fingers to see if it truly lacked rainfall. It was hard to grow back things in unsuitable conditions. Herbivicus could only do so much after all.
He fixed the flatcap on his head, shrugging his shoulders as he pulled his wand from his side. It may seem like a peculiar thing to have, but he had a holster to hold his wand in the same way a gun was held. It made things easier for him, especially since he often misplaced things as of late. He was waiting for Maya, this seemed like something he didn't need to bother the other Head of Houses about. Plus she seemed like she needed something to do, he'd feel anxious being so stationery after the announcement of the mask.
He took a step towards the debris, his feet sinking into some of the ash and dirt. Sergei was simply glad that there was no body found among the burnt treeline. All he was doing at the moment was inspecting the damage, it was easy to tell where the epicenter of the blast came from. What was the casted spell? It looked like the work of confringo, but it seemed that the fire was something more fierce and constant. "Incendio, perhaps." he muttered, leaning down to pick up a piece of bark. Part of it already came off, falling to the ground as he analyzed it.
Instant incineration, it ate at it quickly. It must have been the casted fire. There was no word that reached his ears about the students at the campout, but he hoped that they would recover well. Although he trusted Lear's abilities, a lot of factors simply seemed to have gone wrong. The bark was dropped on the floor and he began rolling up the sleeves of his dress shirt. What spell could he use to help this? There was no repair for this, but what is dead doesn't always mean it would stay dead.
The man knew this well enough from experience, from the ashes, life could still grow. Sergei used his boot to scrape the ash and dirt away, slowly crouching to dig his hand into the earth. It was a little dry, but a few more Scottish rainfalls and this place should be good as new. Scooping up the dirt, he rolled it around his hand and fingers to see if it truly lacked rainfall. It was hard to grow back things in unsuitable conditions. Herbivicus could only do so much after all.
- S.Y., Professor of Transfiguration
1 May 2018, 03:21
Restoration
It was early morning; the sun had just peaked from behind the frosted tipped mountains, slowly taking control of the darkness. Why to be up this early was not a choice for Maya. She had received a message late at night from Ravenclaw Head of House, Sergei Yornikovych, asking her to meet him in the forest. The message read:
Slowly getting out of bed, she got into clothing she did not care much to be dirty from the ash of the fire. Putting on a pair of black pants and a black top, she added her favorite accessory: her red robe. Retrieving the hood from behind, she placed it over her head, and looked in the long mirror that was to the left of her. She forgot the last time she wore something else other than her robe. The only person who has seen her in other clothing was Rosemary Ethel, but that was another story. Perhaps a story too long to relive.
The last to put on were her boots. To Maya, these boots were more than just an article of clothing. They were reflected as hope. The boots were last worn by her when she was in combat in the Israeli Defense Force. The black leather, scuffed, were like battle wounds. She believed it was fitting to wear for the restoration. Prior to leaving, she grabbed a small, velvety purple bag. She tied the roped handles of the bag on the belt loop of her pants.
Leaving the castle, she made her way towards the Forbidden Forest through the Great Lake. The closer to got, the more the air was contaminated with the smell of smoke. The thought of whether being in the area was healthy or not did not bother her. This is what her people would call a mitzvah, or a good deed, for the people who live near, the creatures who live in, and the Earth that provides for all.
Arriving at the treeline between the lake and the forest stood Sergei Yornikovych. It had just occurred to Maya that the last time they spoke was during their confrontation in his office. They were both in a heated debate in regards to method of the safety of the school and students. Even still, Maya believed that the best course of action was for the students to practice dueling to defend themselves.
"Yornikovych," she greeted, her Israeli accent thick, walking slowly towards him as he was analyzing what seemed to be a torched bark from a tree. Looking around, Maya thought the area they were in was to be a land mine more than a forest. The ground filled with ash as thick as snow, it was hard to believe that this part of the area was once a forest.
"I highly respect you to take on such a project," she started, "but why do you feel responsible enough to do it?" Yornikovych had no ties with the fire. It was a dreadful accident of the students in Hufflepuff house, which made the responsibility fall on Solomon Lear, their Head of House. So what made Sergei Yornikovych yearn to restore the land?
"In my country, taking care of the Earth is vital," she said as she squatted down to the ground to touch the ash with her skinny, long fingers. "For it is the Earth who takes care of us," she finished, grabbing a handful of the ash in the palm of her hand and stood back up. She twisted her wrist and slowly let the ash fall from her hand like an hourglass pouring sand.
"Tell me, what was your plan to restore the damage done here?" she asked, already knowing the answer herself. It would be no fun if she had led his project.
Her head laying on the fluff of her pillow, she stared up at the ceiling. The message still rang in her mind. I assume you don't have much to do... It was true that she did not have much to do until another year and a half when her class, which was an elective, would start. It was true that in the mean time, there was nothing asked of her by the Deputy Headmaster or other professors. In a way, she was not stung by the statement, but content that someone had noticed her lack of duties on the campus. Perhaps then, the year and half would go by faster and she will then teach her students the true meaning of muggles than rumor.Galim,
This is a late request. I assume you don't have much to do, but I am going to go try and restore the damaged part of the forest. If you're free, meet me near the treeline - I don't think I'm going to be that hard to miss. I'll be there tomorrow, early morning.
S.Y.
Slowly getting out of bed, she got into clothing she did not care much to be dirty from the ash of the fire. Putting on a pair of black pants and a black top, she added her favorite accessory: her red robe. Retrieving the hood from behind, she placed it over her head, and looked in the long mirror that was to the left of her. She forgot the last time she wore something else other than her robe. The only person who has seen her in other clothing was Rosemary Ethel, but that was another story. Perhaps a story too long to relive.
The last to put on were her boots. To Maya, these boots were more than just an article of clothing. They were reflected as hope. The boots were last worn by her when she was in combat in the Israeli Defense Force. The black leather, scuffed, were like battle wounds. She believed it was fitting to wear for the restoration. Prior to leaving, she grabbed a small, velvety purple bag. She tied the roped handles of the bag on the belt loop of her pants.
Leaving the castle, she made her way towards the Forbidden Forest through the Great Lake. The closer to got, the more the air was contaminated with the smell of smoke. The thought of whether being in the area was healthy or not did not bother her. This is what her people would call a mitzvah, or a good deed, for the people who live near, the creatures who live in, and the Earth that provides for all.
Arriving at the treeline between the lake and the forest stood Sergei Yornikovych. It had just occurred to Maya that the last time they spoke was during their confrontation in his office. They were both in a heated debate in regards to method of the safety of the school and students. Even still, Maya believed that the best course of action was for the students to practice dueling to defend themselves.
"Yornikovych," she greeted, her Israeli accent thick, walking slowly towards him as he was analyzing what seemed to be a torched bark from a tree. Looking around, Maya thought the area they were in was to be a land mine more than a forest. The ground filled with ash as thick as snow, it was hard to believe that this part of the area was once a forest.
"I highly respect you to take on such a project," she started, "but why do you feel responsible enough to do it?" Yornikovych had no ties with the fire. It was a dreadful accident of the students in Hufflepuff house, which made the responsibility fall on Solomon Lear, their Head of House. So what made Sergei Yornikovych yearn to restore the land?
"In my country, taking care of the Earth is vital," she said as she squatted down to the ground to touch the ash with her skinny, long fingers. "For it is the Earth who takes care of us," she finished, grabbing a handful of the ash in the palm of her hand and stood back up. She twisted her wrist and slowly let the ash fall from her hand like an hourglass pouring sand.
"Tell me, what was your plan to restore the damage done here?" she asked, already knowing the answer herself. It would be no fun if she had led his project.
Stamina: 11 || Evasion: 7 || Strength: 7 || Wisdom: 20 || ArcPower: 15 || Accuracy: 10
2 May 2018, 10:15
Restoration
"Galim." He returned the greeting, still seemingly preoccupied as he observed the barren landscape. It was early in the morning and he wished he brought his drink with him, for the Israeli woman nearly had his head turn. The lack of coherency was truly due to his sleep deprived mind, but even at his age, he was able to do just well with piecing what she had in mind. There was a slight grunt that came from him, thinking of a solid answer to satisfy her with.
Besides, the one at his classroom didn't seem to suffice her enough. He only meant well to provide something sufficient. But even as he thought of it, a clear purpose came to mind. "A forest surrounded Durmstrang, did you know?" he asked, slowly standing up. There was an easily spotted weakness in his left leg and it was unfortunately even his leading leg in duels. But the years of injuries he's suffered, his muscles didn't seem to hold onto the weight of it all anymore.
There were some things magic could not fix, microscopic tears so hard to tell were one of them. Leg braces and a cane were options often thrown at him, all of which he denied since he did not want to seem weak. If he was going to die one day, it would not be with a worn brace or a cane in hand. The man brushed his hand on his pants, leaving a strong streak of ash upon the fabric.
"One year, a student unleashed a poison that nearly killed a whole section of the forest. It left much of the magical creatures there without a home and that only became an issue for us. Students were being attacked on our own grounds, no casualties but it was a problem nonetheless." Sergei started forward, breathing slightly as he easily overturned a few fallen logs with a push of his foot. It sent ash ever so slightly into the air, one that he quickly deflected by turning his head down and using the brim of his hat.
"If we do not respect the nature that magic provides, it has a tendency to ... lash out. A student of my house was attacked by a spider, it nearly killed the poor girl. It may not be the last if we were not to do this soon. If I had the choice, I would no have this troublesome forest at all." Sergei didn't speak young, he often seemed like he talked as if he was from a different time. In short, he was. His mannerisms and how he paced himself was odd, he found it sometimes difficult to adjust to the muggle world, but it was rare he even interacted with them anyway,
He pulled the cap from his head, brushing the top to turn himself back to the brunette woman. Wrapped callous hands would brush his knuckles as he spoke, "It would be in our best interest to maintain it, would it not? It shields the school from the muggle world and from the beasts within it. Plus, there will be a lot more disrespect done to us if we are not careful."
There was a slight chuckle in his voice as he rolled his neck. It was enough talk on his end, he was nearly ready to fall asleep after what he said. With his wand in hand, he proceeded. "You know the spell, yes?"
- S.Y., Professor of Transfiguration
27 May 2018, 12:48
Restoration
The man who knelt down to the ground before her was a man of many colors. Just like her, there were shells that had to be knocked down before knowing the true nature of their being. Maya, perhaps for the first time within the year, she had witnessed a physical weakness from Sergei, which, in turn, had forced him to push himself.
Maya can relate to that way of life. It was her training to never show weakness of any kind. If a shell were to crack, it was in her best interest to form another one in its place. There was no room for emotion with no purpose in her actions.
Listening. Sergei's shell was cracking and all she was able to do was listen. Safety of his students and of the magical world seemed to be in his best interest. Her interest was primarily the restoration of what once was. Granted, she had never given too much thought of consequences of such an outbreak.
His laugh, it reminded her of her father. She hadn't seen him in years as their last encounter was a falling out. However, for some reason, hearing Sergei's laugh had seem not only familiar, but calming for her.
In turn, Maya had let out a small chuckle of her own. It seemed that he was just as many steps ahead of her as she was. Perhaps she met someone of her own ability. While she perceived that to be rare, it was definitely a sense of relief that someone else in this messed up world was at her level. She wasn't alone.
A smirk spread across her face, she took her wand out of the inside of her red, crimson robe and held it towards the ground. "I thought you'd never ask," she joked, dryly.
Concentrating on the spell, she motioned her arm to the shape of a leaf and very tensely stated the incantation, "Herbivicus." Instantly, a green light fled from the tip of her wand and onto the ground to where she was aiming.
The ground began to grow green. Fresh green grass was sprouting up from the ashes. From her perspective, it had symbolized a sense of rebirth; a new beginning of the Forbidden Forest. She looked at Sergei, the smirk on her face untouched.
"I did not think of you a man of emotions. Perhaps your sensitivity is what holds you back from fighting," she said, nudging at him their previous conversation. If they were to restore a section of the forest, there might as well be a confrontational discussion.
Maya can relate to that way of life. It was her training to never show weakness of any kind. If a shell were to crack, it was in her best interest to form another one in its place. There was no room for emotion with no purpose in her actions.
Listening. Sergei's shell was cracking and all she was able to do was listen. Safety of his students and of the magical world seemed to be in his best interest. Her interest was primarily the restoration of what once was. Granted, she had never given too much thought of consequences of such an outbreak.
His laugh, it reminded her of her father. She hadn't seen him in years as their last encounter was a falling out. However, for some reason, hearing Sergei's laugh had seem not only familiar, but calming for her.
In turn, Maya had let out a small chuckle of her own. It seemed that he was just as many steps ahead of her as she was. Perhaps she met someone of her own ability. While she perceived that to be rare, it was definitely a sense of relief that someone else in this messed up world was at her level. She wasn't alone.
A smirk spread across her face, she took her wand out of the inside of her red, crimson robe and held it towards the ground. "I thought you'd never ask," she joked, dryly.
Concentrating on the spell, she motioned her arm to the shape of a leaf and very tensely stated the incantation, "Herbivicus." Instantly, a green light fled from the tip of her wand and onto the ground to where she was aiming.
The ground began to grow green. Fresh green grass was sprouting up from the ashes. From her perspective, it had symbolized a sense of rebirth; a new beginning of the Forbidden Forest. She looked at Sergei, the smirk on her face untouched.
"I did not think of you a man of emotions. Perhaps your sensitivity is what holds you back from fighting," she said, nudging at him their previous conversation. If they were to restore a section of the forest, there might as well be a confrontational discussion.
Stamina: 11 || Evasion: 7 || Strength: 7 || Wisdom: 20 || ArcPower: 15 || Accuracy: 10