3 Jul 2019, 17:35
Colours By Night
All was silent, the night was as black as pitch and not even the sleeping portraits that mounted the walls made a sound. A figure, invisible in the darkness, trailed her fingers along the wall as she walked, her touch only parting with the cold stone to avoid the odd hanging painting. She had trodden this path so many times before that she would recognise its turns even if abducted- and even knew the pattern on the ceiling by memory. She held a small, black bag over one shoulder and its contents bumped against her back as she walked. The fabric was almost see-through, so anybody with a light would have been able to see the spray paint within.Private to @Marla Quinlan, set in the early hours of a Hogwarts school day
However, no windows could be found on the walls of that corridor,so there was no danger of moonlight. In fact, it was far underground, and on a path that only Slytherin students took. That is, until that night. The previous day Margo White had been sitting in History of Magic and an idea had come to her that had had nothing whatsoever to do with the Goblin Wars of the 16th Century. She had taken out a fresh piece of parchment from her bag and had procceeded to scrawl a note in the messiest handwriting she could stomach.
So there Margo was, leaning against the tapestry that she’d walked past so many times and waiting for movement in the corridor. She’d worn all black clothes, of course, and had even pulled an old Halloween mask over her face in case a prefect had discovered her message. However, she’d been careful to hide it in the crack between desk and leg, out of sight where only a bored student would find it. It was always to be careful though- there was no knowing of the security systems and scrying spells that were present in a school like HogwartsTo whomever it may concern,
You have proved your curiosity, now prove your spirit. Meet me in the Dungeon Corridor at 2AM Tuesday morning, in the alcove where the tapestry of Wenda the Wandless is located. Prepare for some artsy times.
With rule breaking tendencies,
Anonymous
Last edited by Alexx Séverin on 3 Jul 2019, 18:04, edited 1 time in total.
A grin like a crocodile and a bob like a funny catfish
4 Jul 2019, 23:50
Colours By Night
[quote]Okay, this was probably a bad idea. I mean, who takes a really ominous, random note trying to coerce you into sneaking out into account? Then again, this was Marla Quinlan we were talking about. Equally stupid curious and brave, she simply had to find out what this... Person meant by 'artsy times'. Maybe they'd murder Marla in the hall way and have an 'artsy time' with her bl... Never mind. Anyways, who knew?
To keep herself concealed and the 'Sherlock Holmes' vibe of the whole thing, Marla had turned her hair black. Being a metamorph was honestly really creepy, but it came useful in times like these. Many people knew the girl by her bright, nearly blinding red hair, and keeping that whole thing on the down low would come in handy. To match her now charcoal colored hair, dark clothing hid her rather pale skin well in an attempt to blend in with the velvet sheet of night.
And now came the hard part. Marla had snuck out many, many times before, though this would be more difficult. The year was weening, meaning that many teachers were on guard for mischievous kids pulling end of year pranks or looking for the rush of trouble just for the hell of it. Getting out of the common room was effortless enough, the corridors were another story. They were much more hollow, making every step an even bigger risk of getting caught. The stairs shifted, leading to who knows where in an endless maze of confusion and trouble. Especially at this time of day, with no upperclassmen or professors to guide you.
Thankfully she knew her way around. Being the adventurous girl she was, Marla had spent her months at Hogwarts searching every nook, cranny, and inch of the place for each secret passage, shortcut, and room. At one point in a panic she had even found this place called the Room of Requirement, which was a pretty great feat, if she said herself. Honestly, she had to refrain from bragging about it a few times. Marla wanted to keep the place to herself. In a way, it was her new safe haven. The abandoned bathrooms were a good place in the beginning, but many people caught wind of them and started hanging out there after Kaegan Deathmote blew the damn thing up. Stupid. And even worse, she had to clean up after them in detention. Ironically, after being caught sneaking out.
Enough of the senseless mind-rambling though, Miss Quinlan was on a mission. Soon enough, she had made her way to a stairwell that led down so deep that there was an ominous shadow emitting the rest of the journey down the steps. The infamous path that she had taken every weekday to potions.
"Lumos." She murmured, flicking her wand and squinting as a yellow-ish light protruded from the top of the carved handful of ash. Pushing her arm as far out as it could go (which was, in fact, not that much) for a safer path downwards, she made her way into the dungeons as quickly as possible.
Eventually reaching the bottom, which she knew by the silent sound of water dripping down the cool stone and the stench of moss and dew inevitably making its way up into her nose. In the distance stood a fellow student, who she couldn't see clearly, as her face was blacked out. Marla bit her lip, getting a bad feeling in her gut about this.. But it was too late. Plus, this did look fun. If this student tried to kill her, or try anything, she'd just use flipendo. Or whack them with a broom. That could work too.
"Hey!" She whisper-yelled, which sounded louder because of the echo of the halls, waving to the person as she made her way closer. They were wearing a really... Strange mask to say the least. It made sense, they didn't want to be known, especially if they were to get in trouble... Didn't make it any less creepy. "I got your note. What're we getting up to?" Asked the (former) redhead, shoving her hands in her pockets to hide her now slightly damp palms, discarding the feeling of misgiving brewing in her stomach.
To keep herself concealed and the 'Sherlock Holmes' vibe of the whole thing, Marla had turned her hair black. Being a metamorph was honestly really creepy, but it came useful in times like these. Many people knew the girl by her bright, nearly blinding red hair, and keeping that whole thing on the down low would come in handy. To match her now charcoal colored hair, dark clothing hid her rather pale skin well in an attempt to blend in with the velvet sheet of night.
And now came the hard part. Marla had snuck out many, many times before, though this would be more difficult. The year was weening, meaning that many teachers were on guard for mischievous kids pulling end of year pranks or looking for the rush of trouble just for the hell of it. Getting out of the common room was effortless enough, the corridors were another story. They were much more hollow, making every step an even bigger risk of getting caught. The stairs shifted, leading to who knows where in an endless maze of confusion and trouble. Especially at this time of day, with no upperclassmen or professors to guide you.
Thankfully she knew her way around. Being the adventurous girl she was, Marla had spent her months at Hogwarts searching every nook, cranny, and inch of the place for each secret passage, shortcut, and room. At one point in a panic she had even found this place called the Room of Requirement, which was a pretty great feat, if she said herself. Honestly, she had to refrain from bragging about it a few times. Marla wanted to keep the place to herself. In a way, it was her new safe haven. The abandoned bathrooms were a good place in the beginning, but many people caught wind of them and started hanging out there after Kaegan Deathmote blew the damn thing up. Stupid. And even worse, she had to clean up after them in detention. Ironically, after being caught sneaking out.
Enough of the senseless mind-rambling though, Miss Quinlan was on a mission. Soon enough, she had made her way to a stairwell that led down so deep that there was an ominous shadow emitting the rest of the journey down the steps. The infamous path that she had taken every weekday to potions.
"Lumos." She murmured, flicking her wand and squinting as a yellow-ish light protruded from the top of the carved handful of ash. Pushing her arm as far out as it could go (which was, in fact, not that much) for a safer path downwards, she made her way into the dungeons as quickly as possible.
Eventually reaching the bottom, which she knew by the silent sound of water dripping down the cool stone and the stench of moss and dew inevitably making its way up into her nose. In the distance stood a fellow student, who she couldn't see clearly, as her face was blacked out. Marla bit her lip, getting a bad feeling in her gut about this.. But it was too late. Plus, this did look fun. If this student tried to kill her, or try anything, she'd just use flipendo. Or whack them with a broom. That could work too.
"Hey!" She whisper-yelled, which sounded louder because of the echo of the halls, waving to the person as she made her way closer. They were wearing a really... Strange mask to say the least. It made sense, they didn't want to be known, especially if they were to get in trouble... Didn't make it any less creepy. "I got your note. What're we getting up to?" Asked the (former) redhead, shoving her hands in her pockets to hide her now slightly damp palms, discarding the feeling of misgiving brewing in her stomach.
"your loss, baby !!"
stamina 10 | evasion 7 | strength 6 | wisdom 7 | arcpower 6 | accuracy 9
stamina 10 | evasion 7 | strength 6 | wisdom 7 | arcpower 6 | accuracy 9
6 Jul 2019, 14:23
Colours By Night
Margo stepped further back into her shadowy alcove as wandlight neared, her heartbeat thrumming loudly in her ears. Her put her hands up to her face and slipped one under the mask, trying to muffle her breathing. However, the person carried on down the corridor, walking around the corner until Margo could see their face. It was a girl, her skin so pale that her illuminated wand gave it an eerie, glowing quality. Her hair was as black as pitch and framed her face, creating a stark contrast to her skin tone. She had an almost devilish look, Margo thought, but then, perhaps she was not a devil, but an angel, saving the castle from rulebreakers- Margo would have to check to make sure. If the girl was a prefect, or some other kind of saint, then she had a plan. This person obviously wasn’t a Slytherin; she would have recognised someone so striking from her own house... unless magic had been used to change the features of her face. However, Margo thought that it was a little much to go to such lengths for a discovering a rulebreaker, and that the balance of probability would agree with her. Taking the fact the the person was either a lion, a badger or an eagle into consideration- Margo thought it would be unlikely for them to know this corridor well enough to run down it blindfolded, and they would definitely not know the exact whereabouts of the entrance to the Slytherin Common Room. Therefore, all Margo would have to do to escape their clutches would be to deprive the girl of her wand; and considering the amount of physical combat she’d done with her brother whilst growing up, she reckoned she had a pretty good shot.
Now that she had perfected her plan, Margo allowed a smug smile to make its way across her face. However, when the girl opened her mouth and whispered a greeting it faltered a little. Gosh, the echo sounded loud; perhaps this had not been the perfect place after all. If the girl was nervous, then Margo was not aware of it- but this only put her in the young Slytherin’s good books, for her greeting and supposed confidence only proved that she was indeed there to fulfill Margo’s pranking wishes.
"I got your note. What're we getting up to?" The girl asked and Margo’s smirk grew. There was still a slight chance that it could’ve been a prefect with excellent acting skills, so she didn’t remove her mask, but she did take the bag off of her shoulder. The spray cans clinked slightly as she lowered them to the floor and beckoned with her free hand for the girl to come closer. It had been surprisingly unchallenging to bring spray paint into Hogwarts. She’d had the cans in her trunk since the beginning of the year, wrapped up in her clothes making fabrics and sitting quietly, waiting to be used. She’d been prepared for teachers to check their bags, but had been pleasantly surprised when it had not happened.
“What’s your favourite colour?” Margo asked, pulling out a green spray bottle and shaking it before handing the bag to the girl. “What do you want to create?”
Now Margo was not an artist. She excelled only in the arts that concerned a needle and thread. However, she had used spray paints before- in the locker room of her old school, and had practiced a little at home before coming to Hogwarts, so she didn’t consider herself that terrible. This might surprise many people, but she did not break the rules for no reason. She was conducting an experiment down in the dungeons that night, for she found those who were rebellious great fun to be around.
A grin like a crocodile and a bob like a funny catfish
13 Jul 2019, 07:21
Colours By Night
[quote]So far, so good. The mysterious person honestly looked like that one dude from that horror movie... Freddie Kangaroo? Something like that. Either way, it was sketchy. That didn't mean Marla was going to be a chicken and leave. There was something on 'Freddie's back, supposedly a bag, and she was completely craving to find out what was in there. Most likely some sort of paint if she took the note from before into account... And if that was the case, it would be pretty awesome. To make her mark on the walls of a magical castle's mysterious stoney depths... What could be better? She smiled to herself at the thought, anticipation building up, electrocuting its way through her body as she moved the weight of her feet from the right to the left.
And finally, Freddie slipped the 'bag' off of their shoulder, a small metallic noise coming from inside as it hit the surface. As they made a hand motion for Marla to come closer, she obliged, eyeing the bag with obvious curiosity and enthusiasm. The mysterious student began to unzip the bag, keeping Marla on her toes. They dug inside for a while, more clinking and clanking noises emitting from the depths of the bag, until they pulled out a green can and shook it. Marla was sure she had seen something like that before, the word for the item on the tip of her tongue... But she couldn't place her finger on it. She knew what it was, and a grin spread across her face. They were making art on this beautiful, beautiful morning. As soon as the person asked what her favorite color was, Marla knew it was a girl. The pitch and tone was all too familiar, and being a girl herself, Marla could recognize another. "My favorite color..." She murmured, bending down to search through the bag. While red was a signature color of Quinlan over here, for it was the color of her hair and house...That wouldn't compliment green very much. So she went with her second best, yellow. The color of a raging fire, and the delicate badgers. Ironically two things that went together. Marla waved the spray can near the girl's field of vision, so she knew what color Marla had selected.
"And to create..." Pondered the girl, closing her eyes. What in the world could they possibly make? And then it hit her. She looked into the mysterious girl's eyes, epiphany shining in her own. "A dragon." Something she had always been captivated by, elegantly terrifying creatures of the sky, fierce and strong. Beings that she had been inspired by even when she believed them to be objects of just fiction. Reading stories about them when she was little, she fell in love with them. Do you know how awesome you had to be to breath fire and fly to the highest of mountain tops? Dragon-level awesome.
Oh, Marla Quinlan had struck gold. Whoever in the world this girl was, she was interesting. Captivating. And had a thirst for danger. Whoever she was, she had spunk. And Marla liked it. Grinning, she shook her spray can and looked at the wall, picturing the completely majestic masterpiece that would soon bestow them. "You ready?" She asked, her pointer finger on the nozzle of the can.
And finally, Freddie slipped the 'bag' off of their shoulder, a small metallic noise coming from inside as it hit the surface. As they made a hand motion for Marla to come closer, she obliged, eyeing the bag with obvious curiosity and enthusiasm. The mysterious student began to unzip the bag, keeping Marla on her toes. They dug inside for a while, more clinking and clanking noises emitting from the depths of the bag, until they pulled out a green can and shook it. Marla was sure she had seen something like that before, the word for the item on the tip of her tongue... But she couldn't place her finger on it. She knew what it was, and a grin spread across her face. They were making art on this beautiful, beautiful morning. As soon as the person asked what her favorite color was, Marla knew it was a girl. The pitch and tone was all too familiar, and being a girl herself, Marla could recognize another. "My favorite color..." She murmured, bending down to search through the bag. While red was a signature color of Quinlan over here, for it was the color of her hair and house...That wouldn't compliment green very much. So she went with her second best, yellow. The color of a raging fire, and the delicate badgers. Ironically two things that went together. Marla waved the spray can near the girl's field of vision, so she knew what color Marla had selected.
"And to create..." Pondered the girl, closing her eyes. What in the world could they possibly make? And then it hit her. She looked into the mysterious girl's eyes, epiphany shining in her own. "A dragon." Something she had always been captivated by, elegantly terrifying creatures of the sky, fierce and strong. Beings that she had been inspired by even when she believed them to be objects of just fiction. Reading stories about them when she was little, she fell in love with them. Do you know how awesome you had to be to breath fire and fly to the highest of mountain tops? Dragon-level awesome.
Oh, Marla Quinlan had struck gold. Whoever in the world this girl was, she was interesting. Captivating. And had a thirst for danger. Whoever she was, she had spunk. And Marla liked it. Grinning, she shook her spray can and looked at the wall, picturing the completely majestic masterpiece that would soon bestow them. "You ready?" She asked, her pointer finger on the nozzle of the can.
"your loss, baby !!"
stamina 10 | evasion 7 | strength 6 | wisdom 7 | arcpower 6 | accuracy 9
stamina 10 | evasion 7 | strength 6 | wisdom 7 | arcpower 6 | accuracy 9
15 Jul 2019, 11:47
Colours By Night
The meeting was going surprisingly well. Margo had not been forced to think about her plan of escape once, and the crow haired girl seemed a curious character worth analysing. Lately, it was becoming more and more appealing to break the rules- because when she did, things happened that were worth remembering. Margo could argue that this bout of rulebreaking would be the best so far. There was no better way to stand out than to personalise the walls of your house’s part of the castle. Crow Hair obviously thought so too. She looked wired, and ready to complete the task at hand.
Crow waved a yellow spray can in front of Margo’s face, causing a small grin to break out. It was far from an innocent expression, filled with hidden thoughts and shrewd plans, but it was a smile all the same. She was glad that the mysterious girl had chosen a colour that matched her shade of green. Together, they would make the best surprise possible for the Slytherin students walking up to breakfast the next morning. But what to create? Crow also seemed to be weighing the possibilities. She closed her eyes for a moment and Margo followed suit, thinking. They could always make a hilarious portrait of the school’s staff, but maybe that was going a bit far... Lear would look stunning in a pink dress. Maybe something stronger would be more appropriate, something stunning with a message. No matter what they created, it would have a have a hidden meaning. Their work of art would be a symbol of two strangers coming together, working towards a shared goal with their only communication being a collaborative vision... and the girl’s idea.
“A dragon!” Margo hissed in excitement. “It’s perfect.” She had to give it to Crow, the girl was a genius. So, with the wary eyes of Wenda the Wandless watching them from her tapestry, Margo waved her hand to indicate that the other girl should make the first move.
“You ready?” Crow asked.
“Born ready.” Margo replied, lifting her spray can as her index finger found it’s rightful place on the nozzle. She would do everything she could to make this dragon worthy of its scales, something so beautiful that nobody would ever want to clean it off. She dreamed big, Miss White, and always did everything within her power to achieve those dreams. Soon enough, their dragon would morph from dreams into reality.
A grin like a crocodile and a bob like a funny catfish
29 Jul 2019, 02:08
Colours By Night
[quote]Marla had to admit, this Freddie dude, whoever she was, seemed awesome. The sheer courage that she had... Sending out a random note like this, for anyone to find? God, the Gryffindor could already tell she was a riot. As Freddie gushed in approval of her suggestion to draw a dragon, a grin crept across her face. While Marla was no stranger to causing mischief, she had never, ever done something of this sort. It was riveting. Of course, growing up she had done the good old ding dong ditch with the little to none friends that she had and even attempted to steal from the potions room in this very basement. She had even painted in the abandoned bathrooms with Emile Yorke, but there was no mystery behind it. This.. Now this... It was different. More exciting. Who knew that she could be so ecstatic and completely terrified at the same time? Honestly, the poor girl thought she was going to hurl.
But even if she did throw up, this was not a chance that Marla Juliet Quinlan was missing out on. No way. And so, she stood up, bouncing on her feet, alternating the ones she was leaning on. Left, right, left, right. There was only so much she could do to numb all the nervous energy radiating off of her body. She wiped her empty hand on her robes, who knew she would be this freaking sweaty? Why was she nervous? Gryffindors were brave. She was brave. Right? A dragon. Just like the one that they were going to plaster on this wall. A ginormous, epic, fire breathing reptile with all the time and freedom in the world. She inhaled deeply through her nose, rolling her shoulders back before making eye contact with Freddie, who exclaimed that they were ready quite clearly. So, that left Marla only one thing to do: they had to get to work on this thing.
And get to work on 'this thing' they did, for saying Marla 'went ham' on the paint was an understatement. She was no artist, but there was no way in hell she was going to let this masterpiece be mediocre at best. It was going to make jaws drop. Eyes pop out of their sockets like in the cartoons. Okay, that's gross, but you get the gist. It was almost as if Freddie and Marla were in sync. Well, because they were. Making divine marks onto the thousands of year old stone as she sprayed the paint across the walls, adding accents to the stencil that her companion was creating. And in the midst of it all, she was so focused, that her jet black hair had reverted back to a vibrant coppery-red. If a fire had the capability to be "frizzy", it would look exactly like so.
After a few minutes of making a complete mess of this poor, poor damp, brick wall, Marla took a few steps backward and put the spray can down with a small clink echoing through the corridor. She looked up to Freddie while leaning her hands on her knees, exhaling with a laugh. "Okay, we probably should have done this, like, ages ago. But I'm Marla." She introduced herself with a devilish smirk, a glint in her golden eyes. She blew some hair out of her face, the smug look on her face fading as soon as she realized her hair was red. Shit. As quickly as she could, she shuffled into the shadows. "Nox," She murmured, flicking her wand as it extinguished itself, before concentrating as hard as she could to turn her hair back to a jet black. This was such a stupid plan, she probably already noticed. Ugh. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Shaking her head, she hastily cast Lumos once more and let out a chuckle, trying to ignore the– well– the hot mess that just happened. "As I was saying, uhm... What's your name?" Asked the redhead, narrowing her eyes as she looked into the other girl's, as golden and brown as Marla's. Who was she? Oh, how she so desperately wanted to find out. It seemed as if she wanted to keep her identity concealed, but it wouldn't hurt to give the girl a little shove, hmm?
But even if she did throw up, this was not a chance that Marla Juliet Quinlan was missing out on. No way. And so, she stood up, bouncing on her feet, alternating the ones she was leaning on. Left, right, left, right. There was only so much she could do to numb all the nervous energy radiating off of her body. She wiped her empty hand on her robes, who knew she would be this freaking sweaty? Why was she nervous? Gryffindors were brave. She was brave. Right? A dragon. Just like the one that they were going to plaster on this wall. A ginormous, epic, fire breathing reptile with all the time and freedom in the world. She inhaled deeply through her nose, rolling her shoulders back before making eye contact with Freddie, who exclaimed that they were ready quite clearly. So, that left Marla only one thing to do: they had to get to work on this thing.
And get to work on 'this thing' they did, for saying Marla 'went ham' on the paint was an understatement. She was no artist, but there was no way in hell she was going to let this masterpiece be mediocre at best. It was going to make jaws drop. Eyes pop out of their sockets like in the cartoons. Okay, that's gross, but you get the gist. It was almost as if Freddie and Marla were in sync. Well, because they were. Making divine marks onto the thousands of year old stone as she sprayed the paint across the walls, adding accents to the stencil that her companion was creating. And in the midst of it all, she was so focused, that her jet black hair had reverted back to a vibrant coppery-red. If a fire had the capability to be "frizzy", it would look exactly like so.
After a few minutes of making a complete mess of this poor, poor damp, brick wall, Marla took a few steps backward and put the spray can down with a small clink echoing through the corridor. She looked up to Freddie while leaning her hands on her knees, exhaling with a laugh. "Okay, we probably should have done this, like, ages ago. But I'm Marla." She introduced herself with a devilish smirk, a glint in her golden eyes. She blew some hair out of her face, the smug look on her face fading as soon as she realized her hair was red. Shit. As quickly as she could, she shuffled into the shadows. "Nox," She murmured, flicking her wand as it extinguished itself, before concentrating as hard as she could to turn her hair back to a jet black. This was such a stupid plan, she probably already noticed. Ugh. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Shaking her head, she hastily cast Lumos once more and let out a chuckle, trying to ignore the– well– the hot mess that just happened. "As I was saying, uhm... What's your name?" Asked the redhead, narrowing her eyes as she looked into the other girl's, as golden and brown as Marla's. Who was she? Oh, how she so desperately wanted to find out. It seemed as if she wanted to keep her identity concealed, but it wouldn't hurt to give the girl a little shove, hmm?
"your loss, baby !!"
stamina 10 | evasion 7 | strength 6 | wisdom 7 | arcpower 6 | accuracy 9
stamina 10 | evasion 7 | strength 6 | wisdom 7 | arcpower 6 | accuracy 9
3 Aug 2019, 17:38
Colours By Night
'Freddie' watched as a grin started to spread across Crow's face. It was catching, more so than an airborne disease, and she couldn't help but spread her lips with the same enthusiasm. However, Margo's grin was far from a token of innocent joy- it promised more than a bucket load mischief and a glint in her eye showed off the shrewd part of her mind to anyone that looked. She revelled in the mystery of the crow girl and her motives, looking for clues in every line of the girl's face and hands. It was a trait she'd inherited from her father, she suspected. She wasn't obsessively compulsive like him, but puzzles interested her, and once they caught her in their grasp she rarely escaped until they were fully solved. Crow was definitely an interesting puzzle, alright. Apart from the ache of adrenaline and fear of getting caught, figuring her out was the main thing going through Margo's mind. She didn't think she'd ever felt so alive before. It was partly the mystery of Crow, but also the sheer thrill of breaking the rules in a dark dungeon in the middle of the night. Yanking Margo out of her thoughts, the dark haired girl turned to her and held her steady gaze with just as much fire. That was when Margo knew. They were going to do this and nothing would get in their way.
Margo knew that she would have to be the one to create the outline of the dragon itself, all because she held the darker coloured paint can. It was a bright sort of green, she registered as she started to spray, perfect for creating the shimmering scales of a powerful dragon. She and Crow seemed to work seamlessly together on the beast, as if the same image was painted behind both of their eyelids and they were connected, dividing the roles between them. In fact, Margo was so focused that she didn't notice the gradual colour change to Crow's hair. At least, not until the girl stepped back and spoke.
Margo stared in shock at Crow, whom was in desperate need of a new nickname. Flame, she would call her now... but the alias was no longer necessary. Flame had just told the gobsmacked Slytherin her real name, Marla. Margo had nothing wrong with it, nothing at all... just the fact that the girl who it belonged to would probably expect a similar reveal from Margo, and that put her in a tricky position. Should she stay safe? Keep her name hidden and risk losing any possible future information on Marla the mysterious metamorphagus. Or should she take the risk? Remove her mask and forge a bond with the fiery, now redheaded girl that started with the revelation of her name. Margo had absolutely no idea, and then she looked up at Marla.
A smirk adorned the girl's face that was worthy of Loki himself, the devilish god of mischief. Confidence seemed to ooze from her very pores and that was what forced Margo to make a decision. She opened her mouth to speak, to reveal her identity, but the other girl was already moving. The dungeon plunged into darkness as she whispered to her wand and Margo swallowed forcefully. It was a good thing she knew her surroundings so well.
Marla's wand ignited once again and Margo stopped trying to pry her own magical device from the top of her boots. Quickly righting herself, she stared at the original Marla, thinking about what to say next. "I'm Margo" She uttered, thinking about the very possible risk of revealing her true face that was ringing in her ears. But no, she wasn't stupid. Self preservation coursed through her veins and removing her mask would poison it all. She would stay under disguise. She and Marla were on the same page, at the same level of trusting, and Margo didn't want to be the one to make the next move. She'd focus on the dragon instead. "What do you think?" She asked, pointing towards the paint. "Do you reckon it needs some fire?" Margo wasn't prompting the girl, no, she was just pondering the question herself and had spoken it so that they would remain on the same page. Perhaps fire would make their colour palette too varied, but maybe it would give their dragon the strength it needed.
She leaned against the opposite wall to their creation, deciding to pretend that she had not seen Marla's hair transformation at all. Their dragon ruled her thoughts now. Besides, she had no plans to betray the girl, If she got in trouble and Marla didn't then she wouldn't drag the redhead down with her. She was much too grateful for the fun that the girl had given her, and it still wasn't over yet.
A grin like a crocodile and a bob like a funny catfish
7 Aug 2019, 00:25
Colours By Night
Two in the morning. What good reason did anyone, Boniface Murtagh MacTavish included, have for dungeon lurking at two in the morning? Well, in the case of Boniface, he just so happened to be on a quest down memory lane. An odd circumstance, but a sleepless night and a lack of Valerian Root, he was wandering the halls of Hogwarts. Or, in this case, the dungeons.
He couldn't necessarily blame any students for having a fascination with the dungeons. They were quiet and lonely, only meant for the bravest of souls. However, he had to place some blame on them when they revealed themselves as lurking in the shadows at such an ungodly hour. Boniface had kept his distance, not even knowing that there were two other night dwellers, significantly younger than himself, slinking about the same area. Had he known, surely, he would have come to the rescue sooner. But alas, it was not until he saw the light the protruded from the wand of an unknown student that he was made aware of their existence.
Following the light, he squinted his eyes. Boniface had been travelling in the dark, enjoying the essence of the lonely quarters. How he had missed his hermit lifestyle, and all the hustle and bustle was beginning to exhaust him. He sought, most of all, solitude. Tonight, however, he would receive no such thing. Instead, his feet led him towards two girls. The one who had lit her wand extinguished it just as quickly. However, as a further surprise, the two were doing graffiti!
"Hey!" Boniface called out in a form of a whisper-yell. He eyed the wall, looking at their artwork. While it was beautiful, he had to admit, he wasn't going to let them get away with vandalizing the school. A brief thought crossed his mind that perhaps he should make them clean this mess up the old fashioned way- scrub it down with some sponges and what have you- but he decided that there was going to be a much more demanding punishment. One that was far more unique.
"Scourgify!" He announced, pointing his wand at the area that they had painted. In an instant, all of their hard work was gone. Boniface almost felt bad for the two of them. However, Hogwarts was a sacred school. It was beautiful, historic, and filled with wonder. Their rebellious artwork simply didn't mesh with the world around them. Though it was a wonderful take on modern art, he just couldn't let it stay there.
He turned back to the two girls, a disappointed look on his face. "Well, I hope you two are satisfied, because that is all the fun ye'll be having tonight. C'mon, I'll walk ye back to yer common rooms. Expect an owl regarding your detention first thing in the morning." With that, he motioned for them to follow, nodding his head in the direction of the exit.
Detention Notice:
You have hereby been issued a detention. I will be owling the both of you soon with further information. You are allowed one response post to this thread before it is to be locked.
Faigh eagal
Agus an uairsin dèan e co-dhiù