Detention Detail
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Detention on a humid, Scottish June day. It was nearly the end of the school year and you just could not keep it together. In fact, you were caught doing something so reprehensible that the Headmaster himself has exiled you to the edge of Hogwarts's property to perform hard labor on what could have been a glorious Saturday. Indeed, you did not even get out of your classes.
So what did you do?
Well, don't play dumb with me, you know exactly what you did. Please roll a 1d20 if you are in our discord, if you do not have a discord, I will roll for you.
1. Fed a Pygmypuff an espresso
2. Started a food fight
3. Repeatedly meowed at a professor
4. [Muggleborn and halfbloods only, purebloods you have to re-roll] Put googly eyes on all the suits of armor
5. Created a fake secret passage map and sold it to first years
6. Convinced younger students the Black Lake had a mermaid monarchy
7. Broom racing indoors, possibly with a stollen school broom
8. Illegally brewing butterbeer in a dormitory cauldron
9. Out after curfew
10. Fighting in corridors
11. Unauthorized dueling
12. Stealing potion ingredients
13. [Year 1 or 2 only, all others re-roll] Sneaking into Hogsmeade
14. Caught entering the Forbidden Forest
15. Tampering with Quidditch equipment
16. Forging permission slips
17. Vandalizing moving portraits
18. Selling exam answers
19. Creating fake prophecies for profit
20. Hosting occult rituals "ironically"
The sky above Hogwarts had the bruised color of an old injury. It was quarter to six in the morning, corporal punishment to some means waking up at the ass crack of dawn. And it stunk here.2. Started a food fight
3. Repeatedly meowed at a professor
4. [Muggleborn and halfbloods only, purebloods you have to re-roll] Put googly eyes on all the suits of armor
5. Created a fake secret passage map and sold it to first years
6. Convinced younger students the Black Lake had a mermaid monarchy
7. Broom racing indoors, possibly with a stollen school broom
8. Illegally brewing butterbeer in a dormitory cauldron
9. Out after curfew
10. Fighting in corridors
11. Unauthorized dueling
12. Stealing potion ingredients
13. [Year 1 or 2 only, all others re-roll] Sneaking into Hogsmeade
14. Caught entering the Forbidden Forest
15. Tampering with Quidditch equipment
16. Forging permission slips
17. Vandalizing moving portraits
18. Selling exam answers
19. Creating fake prophecies for profit
20. Hosting occult rituals "ironically"
Heavy clouds pressed low over the castle, there was no storm coming, at least not according to the Seers but it would seem that prophecy was not their strong suit. The air smelled of wet earth and rain not yet fallen. Somewhere in the distance thunder rolled low enough to vibrate through the sod beneath their feet.
Detention.
For some, it was deserved. For others, merely unfortunate timing. Someone claimed they saw them committing a crime and that was evidence enough to cast the hooligan into a temporary workcamp assignment. A fight in the corridor. Contraband found beneath a mattress. Being caught out after curfew. An attempt to become immortal for "academic reasons." An illegal duel. One particularly unfortunate student had attempted to apparate in a setting that is warded against apparation and got trapped inside a suit of armor - he was not able to make it, he was in St. Mungos getting ahem "seperated" from their armor.
Whatever the reason, all roads had led here.
At the edge of the Hogwarts grounds, just beyond the safer walking paths near the caretaker's cabin, a small collection of students had been assembled beneath the watchful gaze of Professor Solomon Lear.
The professor looked exhausted already. He had not taught a class in several years, and he had no intention of teaching one either. In fact, he had a large tote bag, the sort one brings when they are headed to the beach for the day and a pair of sunglasses. Despite the disharmony of a full suit of leather-covered full plate armor and vacation gear, he maintained an ominous aura.
"Listen carefully," he said gruffly over the distant rumble of thunder. "The grounds near the old wardline have become overgrown after the storms this spring. Branches need clearing. Several of the old boundary markers have collapsed. You will assist with cleanup until sunset." Sunset which was a good 10 hours away.
Professor, no Headmaster Lear narrowed his eyes.
"You are not here to socialize. You are not here to explore. You are absolutely not to enter the Forbidden Forest under any circumstance." He paused. "And if I catch anyone attempting to wander off, your next detention will involve the owlery and a shovel."
Behind the group stretched a neglected portion of Hogwarts grounds rarely visited by students. The grass grew taller here. The trees stood unnaturally dense, their dark trunks packed tightly together beyond a sagging line of ancient standing stones half-swallowed by moss and ivy.
Some of the stones had cracked. One had fallen entirely.
"Pairs," he ordered, thrusting old dragonhide gloves and rusted shears into waiting hands. "Clear debris from the wardline and stack anything usable near the trail markers. Stay where I can see you."
An unseasonably cold wind moved suddenly through the trees.
Headmaster Lear turned his back to the gathered students and opened the worn leather tote slung over his shoulder. The bag appeared entirely unremarkable: faded, weather-stained, held together in places by old stitching and what looked suspiciously like spellotape.
Then he reached into it.
And kept reaching.
Out came a folding lawn chair first, which unfolded itself obediently onto the damp grass. Then a whole pineapple. Then a clear unlabeled bottle filled with some amber-colored liquid that definitely did not belong anywhere near students. Finally, with the sort of grave concentration one might dedicate to a delicate ritual, Solomon Lear produced a tiny paper umbrella and stuck it carefully into his drink.
The tote sagged no lighter for any of it.
Lear settled into the chair with a tired sigh that suggested this was far from the strangest detention he had supervised in his lifetime. One leg crossed over the other as rain-heavy wind stirred the edges of his robes.
Drink in hand, sunglasses somehow obtained now on his face. Solomon had found his place for the day "observing."
And for that reason he did not hear somewhere deep beyond the treeline the sound of something knocking softly against wood. Once... Twice. Then silence again. Not a third. There was always three.
And with that, the detention began.
Please enter the thread, this is basically the breakfast club in that you get to meet, get introduced to certain story elements and then I try to get you murdered in subsequent threads. Consider how you got here, what you are doing. Some of you will likely end up in the medical wing for a follow-up.
This thread is a private thread for the users who signed up in this link.
There is something about ambition, how it not only propels you but also defines you.
Detention Detail
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Last edited by Tina Carille on 21 May 2026, 01:44, edited 3 times in total.
"A wise girl knows her limits; A smart girl knows she has none."-Valentina Carille
Detention Detail
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Interacting with: @Mikey Forville
Mentioning: N/A
Date: N/AWord Count: 608
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✽Something felt. . . off to Avery as she trudged along the beaten path towards where detention would be held that day by none other than Headmaster Lear. What had she done, exactly? Well, it was somewhat of a fluke if she was being honest to herself. She had been caught stealing potions ingredients. Why? Well, with exams coming upon her at a rapid pace, Avery wanted time alone to push her skills and test a potion she had not successfully attempted since earlier in the year.
Of course, as always when rules were broken, she had been caught and told to meet at a part of the Grounds she had yet to explore. If it had not been so humid that day, Avery would have enjoyed the walk, but the sticky air made it hard for her to breathe. She had never truly been healed of her asthma, but she was too stubborn to admit that to herself. If anything the effects were. . . masked thanks to a school nurse that had no clue as to what was happening to her. Then again, asthma was a self-diagnosis and not official. Anything could have caused the suffocating feeling she felt in that exact moment.
When she arrived, the smell, worse than any she had ever smelled hit her. Avery choked and began to cough. This was worse than anything she had smelled even in the owlery. What was causing that smell?
The feeling of damp earth beneath her feet and the air heavy with impending rain threatening to fall. The clouds darkened above. No rays of the sun daring to peek through and bathe the earth in golden light. Something was definitely off. But the question of what still lingered in the air.
Avery turned her head and it was at that moment her eyes widened in surprise at who she saw. Mikey. Her boyfriend. There he was standing there before her. It had been nearly a year since they last shared a detention together. That was before everything that had happened between them. Before the wedding, before the confession, before. . . everything.
Why was he there? What had he done to be guilty of such a torturous detention? Well, there was only one way to find out.
That was the moment Headmaster Lear explained the task. They were to work in pairs and clean the debris littering the area. Great. At least it was simple, but spending the next ten hours in the dank atmosphere made it all the worse. At least she would have her boyfriend by her side. That made things somewhat lighter.
Once Headmaster Lear finished speaking, Avery immediately approached Mikey. She knew exactly who her partner would be if she had to spend the next ten hours in the awful area. He was the kind of guy that made light of any and every situation.
"Mikey." Avery whispered out barely audible.
Clearing her throat, Avery finally spoke up, "Hi. What are you doing here? It's been forever since we last shared detention together. Ready to clear some debris?"
Avery's attempt to sound cheerful about their situation failed miserably and ended in a small chuckle at the attempt. She was never great at false cheeriness. Not with everything she had experienced and seen thus far in her life.
Though deep down there was a feeling of dread creeping within her. One that screamed for her to run as far away from that place as possible no matter the consequence, but she pushed it down. She had to do this. She had to figure out the truth of why she and many others were brought to this mysterious place.
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Credit: Mylo Atkins
Stats: stamina ◦ 7 | evasion ◦ 6 | strength ◦ 7 | wisdom ◦ 7 | arcane power ◦ 6 | accuracy ◦ 7
Abilities:
's Grace | FearlessNote: Rolls were done by Lear on Discord (7 was rolled)
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in the world. |
Detention Detail
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If there's one thing Angel is feeling right now it's really just being livid. Cecilia had tricked her in to getting sweets. In the wrong place! Hogsmeade was for adults only. Angel wished she could've been not oblivious to the fact. Realizing that now what was done was sealed. Detention. What a horrid day for her to have ended her morning with such disdain. Unfortunate how the others are walking inside the room with her. Being the only one was not her plan and would not be anytime sooner.
Little "Ms.Perfect" inside detention. Such a thing would not even happened! Considered it very much dumb and a situation that could have been prevented. But woe is her all she really wanted is to just get out of here. This felt like prison and she's doing her time. A sentence she did not even want to undergo.
No she was not little Ms.Perfect nor did she regard herself as one. Everyone makes mistakes, acts foolish or something but right now if one person decides to rub it in she'll only keep her mouth shut. Angel really was not having it not one bit.
The clock was chiming and Angel was keeping herself busy by staring ahead. How long will she be in here? Certainly not for long right? Hoping her own assumption is right she did have a horrible feeling this was not the case especially if she had to share the space with others. Professor Lear said to be in pairs. Angel simply obliged and went to Cecilia. Not looking at her any longer. A prefect and the one in detention. She was not aware of any of it yet she was the one inside along with her! Bad prefect and definitely made her question what happened to the selection process.
So unfortunately Tina were inside as well. Oh gosh darn! That girl? Least expected really! Sighing in disbelief and annoyance she just looked at Cecilia and decided to shake her head. What adventures await her now. If there's one thing she hated about Cecilia she was sly and utmost a bad influence or one who kept secrets!
Angel was not a perfect person. But to be in detention for something she was smart enough to question was about to lose her mind. No this can not be happening! This is like the breakfast club. A few students were here serving their detention and expected to get along. News flash this was not a movie and far from the reality Angel wished the ending was for her own detention.
rolled a d!20, 13, sneaking into Hogsmeade
(Open to interaction!)
Last edited by Angel Dayes on 20 May 2026, 23:46, edited 6 times in total.
INPC: Chelsea Mitzchel
Detention Detail
This cool banner was made by Novalie Moon
Zach came to the Hogwarts Ground with embarrassment. Never in his life had he been given detention, especially from the Headmaster himself. Though once he thought about it again, he knew that he deserved it. It started from a passing thought, something that came to him out of boredom, a random idea he believed might help a lot of people. Forging a Permission Slip 1d20(16). And he has been caught. He didn't know the person. When he copied what was written from his own Permission Slip, someone, he didn't know who they were, caught him making around 15 copies in the Library. And boom.
That person snitched. Zach was caught.
Great.
And so the boy walked with his hand looking down. He wondered if his mom would be informed about this, which he hoped she wouldn't be. He just had the freedom to do what he wanted without getting nagged, and he didn't want to lose it.
When he looked above, the sky was not friendly. Gloomy. Dark. Cold. Somewhat reflected what was inside Zach's mind. He was indeed still sleepy; looking at the time, he must get up to attend this. However, his embarrassment was greater than his drowsiness.
He stood there to listen to the instructions from the Headmaster. He was still in his armour suit, something that Zach didn't understand the reason for, even after hearing some rumours about it. But whatever. Finishing this detention as soon as possible was his main goal right now. He could look for his true reason next time.
When the Headmaster turned his back, Zach looked around with the hope he could find someone he was familiar with so he could lose the weighted feeling in his chest.
None. He wasn't close to anyone there.
Should he have started to introduce himself? He kept wondering. Introducing himself would make things easier in a shorter period. Knowing more people means easier work. But would he want to tarnish his reputation for a longer period by exposing his name?
Whatever.
He walked towards the pile of draonhide gloves. He saw a brunette girl and thought. She seemed... good. Looked like someone who wouldn't tell the whole world that Zach Zaphiere got a detention. Though it would be a gamble since Zach himself was bad at judging people, reaching out to her might be a good idea. He didn't want to work alone. After all, finishing the detention as quickly as possible would be beneficial for him.
And so the gamble began.
"Hi. I'm Zach. Care to do this detention with me? It's better to do this together than do it alone," he said, hoping the girl would accept the request.
Action: -
Interaction: @Rosaline Everhart
Open. Please mention me.
TRUNK
STA 8 | EVA 11 | STR 3 | WIS 12 | ARC 10 | ACC 12
Rapid Reviver | Blindvision | Healing Sage | Paragon of Health (Haven't been decided since he knew no one)
Last edited by Zach Zaphiere on 20 May 2026, 02:28, edited 1 time in total.
Detention Detail
time. detention
location. edge of the grounds
mentions. open for interaction
Dahlia was not supposed to be here. The Gryffindor girl's gaze was fixed upwards, a pair of dark eyes staring directly into the sun. Her eyes squinted shut at the pain. (Had she forgotten the sun did that? Perchance.)
The darkness formed by the backs of her eyelids gave way to a scene... a bleak scene. Dahlia disliked this scene very much.
It had started in a fifth-floor corridor. A set of notes containing the answers of a certain second-year exam had made their graceful descent out of a professor's back pocket. Dahlia had almost stepped on them before stopping to pick them up. It was only by chance that she had overheard students studying for the same exam that evening. What was she supposed to do? Give them the notes for free?
Dahlia knew for a fact it was commonplace in modern society to exchange money for objects one wished to gaze upon, case in point, museums. Dahlia was setting up a museum to aid students in their time of need. These students were simply her benefactors. They paid ten sickles each for a glance at the fallen manuscript, she allowed them a peek, and each party went on with their day. Dahlia did not see the problem in that. She had seen how much these students were willing to pay and offered them a respectable rate given their budget.
The professor who caught a whiff of this scholarly endeavor did not seem to think so. Hence, detention.
Forced labor was the more accurate description. Dahlia was not being detained anywhere. Proper detention necessitated a room and perhaps guards at the door. She was currently outside and allowed to run free in a forest as long as she did not “escape” or wander into the forbidden forest. Dahlia had not been planned on passing said threshold, however, perhaps the headmaster’s prohibition had inspired her.
She wasn’t so brave as to do go alone, though. The Gryffindor peeled open her eyes to glance at her detention-mates. A variety of faces were tied to a variety of crimes… but which to which? Dahlia’s imagination ran wild with the prompt and spun ideas until her mind was weary.
The witch chose not to touch the task just yet, opting rather to balance on top of it. She stepped up onto a log, testing for balance. Dahlia was not yet full-grown and, hence, not that heavy. It held her just fine. She rested her full weight on the wood, pulling her second foot up as to stand on top of it. She took a few careful steps with one foot in front of the other before speeding up. Could she jump to the next stump? It wasn't too far. Dahlia bent one leg behind her, pushing off of her front foot and landing just barely on the wooden surface, gloved hands outstretched on either side for balance. The task at hand was left forgotten.
rolled 18 for detention cause | exploring the stumps
Detention Detail
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@Skylar Blue
426 words
Not M having a schizo moment in there lol
Coded by Melissa BlakeI... Clearly wasn't just sleepwalking. But if I wanted to get out of this, I had to say their I was sleepwalking. Ironic, isn't it?
Cause that night, after going to sleep with the girls, as usual, it looks like I woke up and somehow ended up at the trophy room with Sky. Sky. How was I supposed to explain this to her?
And now I had detention. For the first time ever. Not even in my old schools it had happened. I had detention, and Sky had detention. This wasn't supposed to happen, at all. It's just... Sometimes I don't have control over my body. It sucks, honestly.
I had barely seen her during the following days. Actually, I tried to avoid her.
She just sent me a note two days ago telling me we had detention now. Was she mad at me cause I kept the secret? I had to do the right thing with her. This was my fault. Always my fault, completely.
And worst of all, the detention was with the Headmaster. Mr. Lear. Great.
I started praying to my Saints as I tried not to pass out from shame. And how suddently exhausted I was feeling now.
At least the headaches were gone. I felt nauseous now, but I recognized it because I was surrounded by people. It always happened.
I was given a pair of dragonhide gloves and rusted shears and ordered to pair up.
Hold on, pair up!?
Oh, no. Was there any way to dodge detention? Escape it?
I inmediately started looking for subtle ways to run away when I saw it. A familiar blue hair.
And, sadly, the only familiar face in here. Slowly, I walked towards her, stopping just a few steps from her back.
"... Hey. Wanna... pair up?" I asked Sky.
'What a coward.'
And there it was again. That irritating voice that kept judging me. Why wouldn't it leave me alone? I wasn't in the mood.
'Shut up.' I mentally ordered, not even realizing the way I was frowning and pressing my lips together like I was mad at the air for existing.Stamina: 6 | Evasion: 6 | Strength: 4 | Wisdom: 7 | Arc Power: 6 | Accuracy: 6Abilities:
Last edited by Mikaela Hendricks on 31 May 2026, 01:02, edited 1 time in total.
Detention Detail
⋆꙳•❅*°⋆❆.ೃ࿔*:･*❆ ₊ ⋆꙳•❅*°⋆❆.ೃ࿔*:･*❆ ₊ ⋆꙳•❅*°⋆❆.ೃ࿔*:･*❆ ₊⋆Detention Detail
Isabeau did not particularly look like someone who belonged in detention. She decided that had been the most irritating part, well, besides the hours of manual labor. The hour of the day, she could tolerate. She stood just a touch apart from the other students as the headmaster gave them all shears and gloves, her gaze drifting not towards the Forbidden Forest or the Wardline, they would be fine-tuning, but instead to Headmaster Lear's borderline... absurd setup.
The Headmaster sat in a foldable lawn chair, sipping a drink from a pineapple with one of those tiny decorative umbrellas, and sunglasses placed over his eyes like this was leisure rather than supervision.
Her nose wrinkled in displeasure and disbelief, a fleeting expression. "...Alright then." she muttered to herself, the information filed away for later judgment.
Begrudgingly, she began to inspect the dragonhide gloves with quiet scrutiny, as though they personally offended her. Deeming them somewhat tolerable, she slid them on her hands with careful precision, smoothing her fingers into place.
Isabeau was still annoyed that she was here.
Selling exam answers, in her mind, hadn't really been a moral failing. Perhaps a lapse in discretion. After all, being caught suggested carelessness, and that was an offence she didn't intend to ever repeat again.
Her gaze flickered over to the other students present at the detention, her eyes calculating and dismissive. A few faces she had seen around, some she knew, but most were irrelevant to her.
A small exhale left her lips as she gripped the shears in one hand, shaking her head before muttering to herself. "A whole day's worth of labor," she murmured, her voice quiet enough for only those standing next to her to hear, "for contributing to academic success."
She paused again, considering that next time, she ought to raise her prices. If the students she'd sold answers to performed poorly, that was their failure and humiliation, not hers. She cringed a bit at the thought, just now realizing that if they did do poorly, it might reflect badly on her. And she did not tolerate poor reflections.
Without another word, she looked through the crowd of faces again, this time searching for someone who seemed like they would be a tolerable partner for the next 10 hours.
action; searching to pair up
stats; sta 6 ⊹ eva 6 ⊹ str 6
wis 5 ⊹ arc 5 ⊹ acc 7
open to all ;interaction
please mention
evasive manuvers ;abilities
Roll of 18 by Lear for Detention Cause
Last edited by Isabeau Nevara on 22 May 2026, 23:35, edited 1 time in total.
sta 6 ⊹ eva 6 ⊹ str 6 |
E N C Y C L O P E D I A |
wis 5 ⊹ arc 5 ⊹ acc 7 |
Detention Detail
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████████████████ 𝔑𝔬𝔱𝔢: Thoughts, Speech 𝔄𝔠𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫𝔰: Standing in the back, looking for Winnie. ℜ𝔬𝔩𝔩 1𝔡20: 20. Hosting occult rituals "ironically" ████████████████ |
Hags conspired, whispering old secrets young wizards were warned from the candlelight at their bedside. Tales as old as the blood stain on a pearly white gown.
Innocence said to be nothing but a mere mask that cracked with each cackle.
Each murmur, each twirl of a hand.
Nabi had always wondered why others thought of her as something akin to an angel, a perfect creature of silks and pearls. Why? When even her innocently kind lady in pink was stained with the screams of pain, the sharp cracks of Gideon's fingers crumbling inside flesh.
Beneath the stars.
She had seen just what the Lady Athanatos was capable of, and she quite liked that version of the lady, more... alive. Enough to have decided that a girl's night would have been worthwhile as she spoke to Winnie, whispering beneath faint giggles. The topic? The oil that rose above her chained thoughts of which remained drowned in a still lake.
Aamon.
Brewing had always been volatile; too much time and the tea grew bitter, too little time and it would not be tea. But just how long had her feelings been brewing under thick, burning oil? The sound of teacups being filled would be interrupted by the sound of a door opening, a voice claiming to have been informed of rules being broken with prohibited words.
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The chain felt cold against her skin as the word detention hung in the air, unescapable along the stone of a looming labyrinth, the castle's corridors were. Her pale gray eyes stared ahead while she made her way to the castle's grounds, wondering if Winnie had already arrived at their sentence.
Perhaps she saw kinship in the lady; they were, after all, punished for the same alleged crime.
Her steps would be quiet as she took in the dark skies; it was a weekend morning she would have been enjoying with a newspaper and utter silence. Yet she found herself surrounded by other students and the gaze of the old geezer headmaster she had not seen since September. Though the man looked worse than before, his gruff demeanor remained intact.
Barking orders so early in the day... manual labor being expected, as if she had ever picked up a mess in her life... besides Aamon. House elves would have been more convenient than her dainty, soft hands. With a curt hum, she would look around for the lady Athanatos, finding another familiar face, @Matthew Campbell. Until she felt a pair of gloves hit her arm and pathetically plop on the floor as the Headmaster continued to throw gloves at his convicts. Who even claimed such a crime? Nabi had not even found a way to get her hands on a suspicious book yet. Her eyebrows would slightly furrow while she reached down and grabbed the gloves to dust them before she turned to the faint taps past the treeline.
hm... I wonder if Gideon ever made it out of there... Perhaps the crazed prophet succumbed to the forest. Tied and left to rot with his meaningless shouts to the cackling trees.
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@Winnie Athanatos
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Detention Detail
 d20: 2. food fight. terrible presence sta: 2 | eva: 10 | str: 0 | wis: 8 | arc: 8 | acc: 8 In hindsight, she would say it wasn't her fault. Anyone possessing significant sanity, after all, would be abhorred to hear of Livia Machavariani starting a food fight. The girl herself would, of course, vehemently deny all accusations. Food was disgusting. Why would she deign to touch it with anything other than utensils? Furthermore, fighting with it was simply out of the question. Livia had been trained in etiquette and decorum, not in slinging slimy sustenance at other students. She had merely been caught in the crossfire – some sweaty student had shot a sausage at her, resulting in her whipping out her wand and uttering a disgusted, ‘Stupefy!’ Unfortunately, it appeared that magical aggression was taken more seriously than its physical counterpart. Livia did not know if her assailant would be punished; all she knew was that this was an utter injustice, and she would be speaking to whomever she might about these horrors. Suffice to say, she nearly bristled with offence at the fact that, due to some rumour spread by some idiotic plebeian, she was required to attend to a detention. Worth more outrage was the fact that this ‘detention’ (which might more aptly be referred to as ‘torture’) was listed to begin at the sun’s rise. Livia was not ashamed to admit that one might refer to her as a ‘night owl’; it was far easier for her to spend hours underneath the moon’s watchful gaze than to duffer through lifting herself out of bed before six. Nonetheless, she remained quite punctual, and she begrudgingly dressed herself, hoping her beloved Evpraksyushka would not comment on her horrible scenario as she tugged on a short-sleeved blouse and set of linen trousers. A small set of sunglasses perched itself on her nose, and she tied her hair back into its usual chignon with the comb of vanity her mother had gifted her. After lacing her boots and latching her fingers around her wand, she wordlessly left the dormitory. When she arrived, she had finally blinked the sleep out of her eyes, she was forced to observe a number of students, all of whom must have, similarly, garnered trouble. She did not belong here with these miscreants. Thus, she found herself on the edge of the crowd, with a clean line of sight towards the headmaster, whose garb was most revolting. The armour did not match the colourful beachgoing gear he sported. Being privy to this injustice to proper fashion brought her more disdain than the fact that he expected her to clean. Despite her proper upbringing, cleaning was something she could do – there was something calming about the tedious nature of organisation, and, when no one was looking, Livia quite enjoyed sorting objects and placing them where they belonged. The next sentence, though, horrified her. You will assist with cleanup until sunset. An external reaction would have been beneath her, but Livia would have been lying if she had stated her stomach did not shift. She had woken up far earlier than she wished, and now, if the headmaster’s wishes were fulfilled, she would not rest for the greater part of a day. Already, she could imagine her muscles and bones turning to mush. The gloves she was handed sickened her – who was to say what hands had sullied them? – and the shears were not much better. Were she any less intelligent, she would not have worn them; however, as she knew that not all magical plants were safe, she begrudgingly glared at the gloves. She levied her wand at them and would attempt to incant, ‘Scourgify,’ before slipping her fingers into them. Only then did she register the individual she had been paired with. Livia lowered her chin and glanced over the rims of her sunglasses, lifting her eyebrows. Oh, oh no. She would not address Camille (as he lacked the maturity to be called Mr De Varenne) by name, instead attempting to maintain eye contact with him as she led the way towards what had been referred to as the ‘wardline’. She did not expect that Camille would be of any assistance, so, out of sheer pettiness, neither would she. xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx @camille de varenne | currently sulking modded action if necessary: attempting to cast ‘scourgify’ on the dragon hide gloves. |
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| [staff] jessamine lancaster even you cannot conquer the sun. | marina alacrán [inpc] her hair is kinda wild and free. |