13 Oct 2024, 21:08
Great Expectations at Table Ravenclaw
@Xiomara Torres
Aamon had been planning this for days. His heart raced as he clutched the small bundle of gifts in his arms—everything perfectly chosen, or so he thought. As he entered the Great Hall during breakfast, he spotted her at the Ravenclaw table, surrounded by friends, classmates and one could suppose intelligent strangers. She was eating everything she could find, it was mightily impressive what she could fit inside her small yet muscular frame. His knees wobbled just thinking about it.
He cleared his throat, puffed out his chest, and made his move.
With all eyes on him, Aamon strode over, climbed onto the bench, then the table itself—his legs shaking as plates clattered beneath his feet. People turned, gasping, whispering, but Aamon was too far gone to care. He took a deep breath and pointed dramatically at the muscular girl of his dreams.
“You!” he said, his voice cracking slightly, but louder than intended. "You with the arms that could probably crush a mountain! The biceps that haunt my dreams! You... are like a glorious oak tree with... limbs of steel, and I... I can't look away!"
Her friends, likely classmates, certainly housemates stared in stunned silence before looking over at Xiomara, but Aamon pressed on, rummaging awkwardly through his bundle. "I—I've brought gifts! To prove my... my feelings! My deep appreciation for your, uh, well..." he did not know how to phrase it, he thought of her regularly. Perhaps it was a genetic predisposition to be drawn to muscular women.
First, he pulled out a lopsided bouquet of wildflowers—some of the stems bent from being carried in his satchel, but still colorful. "These, because they're strong... like you! But also soft, sometimes. Just like—well, your heart?" He shook his head resolutely, it could have come out better and he needed to finish this before he lost his nerve. "But... you get what I mean."
He quickly stuffed the flowers into her hand, then fumbled out a shiny, over-polished rock. It was actually a gemstone, a rather expensive one that most women would have killed to have set in a necklace. Brown, like her eyes probably. He was pretty sure they were brown. "And this! It's a rock. Because you're solid. Unbreakable. And... um, I found it outside and thought of you." He found it in a shop, it had many well cut facets. He definitely lied just then and he was not even sure why he did.
At this point, everyone was staring, but Aamon was fully committed. His next gift was a small, hand-carved wooden dumbbell. “I made this myself. I—it’s not as heavy as the real ones, obviously, but I thought you could... maybe hang it up somewhere? As a symbol of our—well, not our strength yet, but... potential strength?"
By now she would likely be unsure whether to laugh or run. Aamon's voice softened, sincerity suddenly replacing his nerves. “Look, I just think... maybe you and I... could go to the ball? Together? I mean, who wouldn’t want to go with someone as... powerful and majestic as you?"
With that, Aamon attempted a grand, sweeping bow on the table—but his foot caught a plate and he slipped, crashing into a bowl of porridge. Drenched and red-faced, he quickly sat up, grinning sheepishly. "So... what do you say?"
Everyone waited, holding their breath, as he gave her his best (and messiest) smile, still holding out the tiny wooden dumbbell.
Aamon had been planning this for days. His heart raced as he clutched the small bundle of gifts in his arms—everything perfectly chosen, or so he thought. As he entered the Great Hall during breakfast, he spotted her at the Ravenclaw table, surrounded by friends, classmates and one could suppose intelligent strangers. She was eating everything she could find, it was mightily impressive what she could fit inside her small yet muscular frame. His knees wobbled just thinking about it.
He cleared his throat, puffed out his chest, and made his move.
With all eyes on him, Aamon strode over, climbed onto the bench, then the table itself—his legs shaking as plates clattered beneath his feet. People turned, gasping, whispering, but Aamon was too far gone to care. He took a deep breath and pointed dramatically at the muscular girl of his dreams.
“You!” he said, his voice cracking slightly, but louder than intended. "You with the arms that could probably crush a mountain! The biceps that haunt my dreams! You... are like a glorious oak tree with... limbs of steel, and I... I can't look away!"
Her friends, likely classmates, certainly housemates stared in stunned silence before looking over at Xiomara, but Aamon pressed on, rummaging awkwardly through his bundle. "I—I've brought gifts! To prove my... my feelings! My deep appreciation for your, uh, well..." he did not know how to phrase it, he thought of her regularly. Perhaps it was a genetic predisposition to be drawn to muscular women.
First, he pulled out a lopsided bouquet of wildflowers—some of the stems bent from being carried in his satchel, but still colorful. "These, because they're strong... like you! But also soft, sometimes. Just like—well, your heart?" He shook his head resolutely, it could have come out better and he needed to finish this before he lost his nerve. "But... you get what I mean."
He quickly stuffed the flowers into her hand, then fumbled out a shiny, over-polished rock. It was actually a gemstone, a rather expensive one that most women would have killed to have set in a necklace. Brown, like her eyes probably. He was pretty sure they were brown. "And this! It's a rock. Because you're solid. Unbreakable. And... um, I found it outside and thought of you." He found it in a shop, it had many well cut facets. He definitely lied just then and he was not even sure why he did.
At this point, everyone was staring, but Aamon was fully committed. His next gift was a small, hand-carved wooden dumbbell. “I made this myself. I—it’s not as heavy as the real ones, obviously, but I thought you could... maybe hang it up somewhere? As a symbol of our—well, not our strength yet, but... potential strength?"
By now she would likely be unsure whether to laugh or run. Aamon's voice softened, sincerity suddenly replacing his nerves. “Look, I just think... maybe you and I... could go to the ball? Together? I mean, who wouldn’t want to go with someone as... powerful and majestic as you?"
With that, Aamon attempted a grand, sweeping bow on the table—but his foot caught a plate and he slipped, crashing into a bowl of porridge. Drenched and red-faced, he quickly sat up, grinning sheepishly. "So... what do you say?"
Everyone waited, holding their breath, as he gave her his best (and messiest) smile, still holding out the tiny wooden dumbbell.
iNPC: Taylor Athanatos
13 Oct 2024, 22:22
Great Expectations at Table Ravenclaw
X I O M A R A - M A R I S O L - T O R R E S
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Interacting with @Aamon Athanatos ♥ ♥ ♥♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ Date & Time: Breakfast, pre-ball
Metamorphmagus: Active ♥ ♥♥♥ ♥ Outfit: Plaid PJ bottoms and a t-shirt
♥♥♥ Xiomara was doing what she did best when it came to the Great Hall - stuffing her face with pretty much everything. If there was one rule she lived by, it was that she ought to try everything. Hogwarts had a huge variety of dishes and more often than not, it was things she had not really had the opportunity to try before now. Perhaps she would get used to it over time but for now, everything was still 'new' and 'exciting'.
Blissfully unaware, she stuffed her face with a fork full of beans on toast, with extra cheese for added flavour. She heard someone saying 'you', followed by some weird crushing mountain thing but she had no idea that that voice was addressing her, so she continued to eat - taking another mouthful before looking over her shoulder at the commotion. It was a voice she, probably, should have recognised but she did not. They didn't know each other that well and well, she was busy eating! What was a girl supposed to do?!
The reporter in her made her curious though. Perhaps there was some drama that she could write about. She did need another article for her gossip column, after all. Looking over her shoulder, she blinked as her gaze met a tall (at least to her) boy that she instantly recognised. It was Aamon. They had met at camp. And... he was pointing at... her? Why was he staring at her? Why was he pointing?
Wait - was he expecting her to crush a mountain? She stopped chewing, her mouth still full and looked down at her arms for a moment as she wondered if her arms were really that big. Wait - an oak tree? Was he insulting her? In truth, she had absolutely no idea what was going on. She was not particularly tall. In fact, she was probably very average in height and stature as far as she knew. Maybe she had eaten too much food and he was insulting her for it? She slowly put the fork back down onto her plate. She had not finished eating but she also had stopped chewing, her mouth still full as she was not sure if she should continue to eat in front of him.
Xiomara blinked, staring at him with a confused look on her face. He seemed quite nice when they had met on the train and they had even shared a tent over the summer without any trouble. She had no idea why he would be mean to her all of a sudden. Her straight hair started to coil at the roots as the sadness started to seep into her - a fear that, maybe, she had misjudged him or that she was doing something wrong? She ought to have been angry but the sadness hit her first in her confusion.
But then he mentioned having gifts. What was going on? Maybe she was misunderstanding. Maybe it was a good thing to be an oak tree. Not that she understood how but they were, uh, strong and useful? Maybe that was what he was going with. Was she really that strong? Xiomara did not think she was particularly strong. If anything, she might have been average but he seemed to be harping on about her supposed limbs of steel.
Slowly, she started to chew the food that was still in her mouth. He showed her some flowers that seemed a little sad, if anything. And she could not help but tilt her own head to match the lopsidedness of the flowers. They looked a little... trampled. Did he literally just pick those from outside? There were so many questions running through her mind at that moment. Her hands instantly moved up a little to react when he came closer with them. She grabbed the flowers that were shoved into her hand, trying not to drop them. As it was a reaction, they were practically in her face since her hands were higher than she had expected them to be.
They were very colourful, though - which she did really like - and they kind of smelt quite nice now that she had them shoved up her nose. "Oh urm. Thanks- why-" She mumbled through the flowers but he continued to speak before she could really ask him why he was giving her a bouquet of flowers. Did they remind him of her because they were colourful or because they looked sad? She was not entirely sure how to react to this strong and yet soft thing he had said. He did not know her!
He said something about a rock that he found outside. The feeling of confusion only grew in Xiomara. She had no idea what was going on. Did he literally come from outside, grabbing some flowers and a rock just now? Why a rock? Because she was like dirt or belonged in the ground or people walked all over her? Was this a prank of some sort? She could not tell. It seemed like backhanded compliments or kind of nice insults but she had no idea why. Her hair stopped coiling but her eyes flickered as they changed colour. As she lowered the flowers, her formerly very brown eyes were a bright blue - very vibrant, close to the colour of an azure gemstone. Her gaze fell onto the 'rock' that he had gotten from the grounds. It was a brown, very well cut, gem. It was not the sort of rock she had pictured.
Xiomara opened her mouth and then closed it again. Her voice was failing her today - or maybe he was just talking enough for the both of them. If he stopped long enough to breathe, she would ask, "You- you found that outside?" But in his rapid fire speech, she was not even sure if she managed to get the words out loud enough for him to hear or before he started talking again.
He handed her something that looked like one of the exercise things that her mother had at home. She could not remember the name of it, nor did she really use them herself but her mother had a set and would often use them when she was exercising indoors. The Ravenclaw had no idea how to hang the item, it did not seem to have an obvious hole or anything that she could attach to the wall but she supposed she could tie some rope around it? Wait- did he say he made it himself?
Was this... incident (for the lack of a better word) something that he had actually planned longer than his walk from the dorms to here? She had no idea but she had been assuming that the Slytherin Dorms were located outside somewhere or had an exit that led to the grounds and he had just found these gifts on the way in but now... she found herself staring at a gem that could not have been picked up from the ground - unless someone else had dropped it - and this was made by him so it had to have taken some time.
Xiomara swallowed as she stared at the boy. Wait - was he asking her to go to the ball? She had no problem going with him if he needed a friend to go with but she could not shake the feeling that this was some strange prank of some sort because of how sarcastic he sounded when he kept saying she was 'powerful' or 'majestic' - two words that she would never have associated herself with.
A gasp escaped her as she witnessed his quite literal downfall. Putting the gifts down onto the table quickly, she grabbed a napkin and rushed over. Crouching down by him, she lifted the napkin to offer it to him, "Are you okay?" She questioned. In truth, she was not asking about if he was okay from the fall. She was asking if he was feeling okay today or if something had happened because this behaviour was... strange, at best. There were no other words to describe it, really.
"You know that I'm not really all that strong, right?" She asked him after a moment, not quite answering his original question as she was trying to buy her time to work out an answer. People often say to trust your instincts but she had no idea what hers was saying. He seemed friendly over the summer, and she had no reason to think he would be pranking her right now but his behaviour was very weird. "Do you need... protection or something?" She continued, wondering if that was why he wanted her to go along with her. Maybe someone was bullying him and he needed someone 'strong' to help him out. If that was the case, she would definitely stand up to them and fight for him - even if she was kind of weak - because that would be sad!
"I mean, if you want... sure. But you know you didn't have to uh get me... well, anything. If someone's bullying you or something, then well, I'll punch them for you, sure," She continued, making a decision. Aamon had been nothing but nice to her. He was a little strange, sure, but if he was being bullied then that might explain it! "I don't think it would help much but like, I'd do it," Xiomara had absolutely no problem admitting that she was not the strongest person - nor was she very skilled with magic (evident by the fact that she still had no control over her metamorphmagus powers) - but she would defend her friends.
She did not know if they were friends, admittedly, but he was pleasant enough (if she just ignored today's encounter) and they probably could have been friends.
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.⋆✩•₊⁺∙°❀∘∙☽𝄞☾∙∘❀°∙⁺₊•✩⋆.
13 Oct 2024, 23:02
Great Expectations at Table Ravenclaw
Aamon was still sprawled on the floor, half-drenched in porridge, when Xiomara crouched down beside him. His face was burning—part from the embarrassment of his spectacular fall, but mostly because she was so close now, looking at him with those azure eyes, a mix of concern and confusion etched on her face. She didn’t seem angry, at least. That was something. Right?
Then it hit him like a goblin's hammer, he got it wrong - her eyes were blue, not brown and panic overtook him. "Wait, I grabbed the wrong rock," he cried in a half-panic. "I left your actual gift in my trunk," the same trunk she had helped him lift when he boarded the train those weeks ago. "I'll get you another on-" He blinked at the napkin she was offering, quickly taking it and wiping porridge off his face with as much dignity as he could muster. Not much.
"Are you okay?"
“Uh… yeah,” he croaked out, his voice a little shaky as he pulled himself to a sitting position. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just… just a small misstep, nothing major. Happens all the time!”
"You know that I'm not really all that strong, right?"
Her next words made his stomach flip over—You know I’m not all that strong, right? Aamon’s heart practically froze. What? Not strong? Did she not see what he saw? The way she lifted things, the quiet confidence in her movements. The sheer, majestic strength in her arms—even if she didn’t think it was there. Was he the only one seeing it?
He started shaking his head vigorously. “No, no, no! Xiomara, you—uh, you don’t get it. You are strong. Like, really strong. I mean, you don’t have to be all big and bulky or whatever to be strong. It’s… it’s in how you carry yourself, you know? And how you carry things, and, uh…” He trailed off, realizing how silly he sounded. “And your arms! I mean, they just seem really—uh, I mean, it’s a compliment, I swear!” His words were tumbling out faster than he could catch them.
"Do you need... protection or something?"
Her mention of protection made him stop short, his brows furrowing. Was that what she thought? That he needed protection? Well… maybe. But not like that. She was not strong enough to protect herself from them. And then he remembered them, just for a brief moment and what a terrible idea this was. They can't come here, or there he reminded himself. Too many people. Too many witnesses. Besides, she was not in the least threatening. They would like her.
“Wait, no—there’s no one bullying me!” Aamon sputtered, waving his hands frantically. “I don’t need someone to punch anyone for me—though that’s, uh, really sweet of you to offer, I guess? No, I just… I just wanted to ask you to the ball. Because, well, I think you’re amazing—not in a 'help me fight bullies' way, but in a 'I’d really like to go with you' way. Like, you’re just… so cool and strong, and I—well, I like that about you." He sort of rambled, omitting the fact that it was more a liability for the bullies than for him as long as they were around. "Besides, their parents could never afford it," he added without offering further explanation. He came from an incredibly affluent family, iof his father did not employ them, it was rather possible a colleague of his did. It would be economic suicide to bully him he believed with juvenile misplaced confidence. He was privilaged, but he was also warned that this school was a temporary equalizer. If anything this was the world's chance to knock him down and make him into the fool, the victim. He should have listened to Vladimir.
He let out a nervous laugh, glancing down at the sad flowers and makeshift dumbbell she’d put on the table. “Okay, maybe I went a bit overboard with the gifts. I was trying to impress you and it, uh, didn’t go exactly as I planned. At all.” He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, suddenly aware of how ridiculous this all must have looked to her.
“Look, if you don’t want to go, that’s totally fine! I’ll understand. But I just thought… maybe we could have fun? And maybe I could, uh, learn a few things from you? Not about punching people, but, like… about being cool and, um, confident like you are?”
He grinned, hoping his sincerity was shining through the mess he’d made.
Then it hit him like a goblin's hammer, he got it wrong - her eyes were blue, not brown and panic overtook him. "Wait, I grabbed the wrong rock," he cried in a half-panic. "I left your actual gift in my trunk," the same trunk she had helped him lift when he boarded the train those weeks ago. "I'll get you another on-" He blinked at the napkin she was offering, quickly taking it and wiping porridge off his face with as much dignity as he could muster. Not much.
"Are you okay?"
“Uh… yeah,” he croaked out, his voice a little shaky as he pulled himself to a sitting position. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just… just a small misstep, nothing major. Happens all the time!”
"You know that I'm not really all that strong, right?"
Her next words made his stomach flip over—You know I’m not all that strong, right? Aamon’s heart practically froze. What? Not strong? Did she not see what he saw? The way she lifted things, the quiet confidence in her movements. The sheer, majestic strength in her arms—even if she didn’t think it was there. Was he the only one seeing it?
He started shaking his head vigorously. “No, no, no! Xiomara, you—uh, you don’t get it. You are strong. Like, really strong. I mean, you don’t have to be all big and bulky or whatever to be strong. It’s… it’s in how you carry yourself, you know? And how you carry things, and, uh…” He trailed off, realizing how silly he sounded. “And your arms! I mean, they just seem really—uh, I mean, it’s a compliment, I swear!” His words were tumbling out faster than he could catch them.
"Do you need... protection or something?"
Her mention of protection made him stop short, his brows furrowing. Was that what she thought? That he needed protection? Well… maybe. But not like that. She was not strong enough to protect herself from them. And then he remembered them, just for a brief moment and what a terrible idea this was. They can't come here, or there he reminded himself. Too many people. Too many witnesses. Besides, she was not in the least threatening. They would like her.
“Wait, no—there’s no one bullying me!” Aamon sputtered, waving his hands frantically. “I don’t need someone to punch anyone for me—though that’s, uh, really sweet of you to offer, I guess? No, I just… I just wanted to ask you to the ball. Because, well, I think you’re amazing—not in a 'help me fight bullies' way, but in a 'I’d really like to go with you' way. Like, you’re just… so cool and strong, and I—well, I like that about you." He sort of rambled, omitting the fact that it was more a liability for the bullies than for him as long as they were around. "Besides, their parents could never afford it," he added without offering further explanation. He came from an incredibly affluent family, iof his father did not employ them, it was rather possible a colleague of his did. It would be economic suicide to bully him he believed with juvenile misplaced confidence. He was privilaged, but he was also warned that this school was a temporary equalizer. If anything this was the world's chance to knock him down and make him into the fool, the victim. He should have listened to Vladimir.
He let out a nervous laugh, glancing down at the sad flowers and makeshift dumbbell she’d put on the table. “Okay, maybe I went a bit overboard with the gifts. I was trying to impress you and it, uh, didn’t go exactly as I planned. At all.” He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, suddenly aware of how ridiculous this all must have looked to her.
“Look, if you don’t want to go, that’s totally fine! I’ll understand. But I just thought… maybe we could have fun? And maybe I could, uh, learn a few things from you? Not about punching people, but, like… about being cool and, um, confident like you are?”
He grinned, hoping his sincerity was shining through the mess he’d made.
iNPC: Taylor Athanatos
13 Oct 2024, 23:50
Great Expectations at Table Ravenclaw
X I O M A R A - M A R I S O L - T O R R E S
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Interacting with @Aamon Athanatos ♥ ♥ ♥♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ Date & Time: Breakfast, pre-ball
Metamorphmagus: Active ♥ ♥♥♥ ♥ Outfit: Plaid PJ bottoms and a t-shirt
♥♥♥ "Oh-" Was all that left her mouth as he suddenly claimed to have given her the wrong gift. Maybe he had intended on giving her an actual rock but somehow accidentally gave her the gem instead? She did not realise her eyes had changed colour, which was why he was behaving in this way. Xiomara had no idea how someone would make such a mistake but she was starting to learn not to question his strangeness. It seemed to be a part of his... charm? "It's okay," She replied with a smile, trying to make him feel a bit better - or at least, more comfortable, so he did not start panicking again (if what happened earlier could be called panic).
She grinned a little at his next words, nodding in response as he claimed that it happened all the time. Was he clumsy too? He would be in decent company if so. She was not the most graceful person in the room, that was for sure, but she could safely say that she had not fallen in porridge before.
Xiomara blinked as he started to compliment her again, this time making it very clear that he was complimenting her. She carried herself in a strong way. That was not something she really thought about before. Nonetheless, she could not help but smile at his words as her confusion started to dissipate. It was replaced by a surge of... a mix of emotions, in truth. Relief and perhaps, happiness? The first year could not help but blush a little as she realised that he was trying to compliment her this whole time. That was sweet. In truth, she was not sure how she could protect him anyway as she was struggling in class anyway - magic did not come easily to her. There was a reason that her family thought she would be a squib and not go to Hogwarts, after all. "O-oh..." She whispered, blushing as she was not sure what else to say.
His compliments continued as he explained that he wanted to go to the ball with her because he thought she was cool. As she grinned, her eyes turned back to a brown but the colour of her hair flickered. For a mere second, it turned to a dark rich purple before switching back to her regular dark brown hair. Controlling her metamorphmagus powers was difficult for her - especially when she got emotional. She could not help but blush a little at his compliments. Not in a romantic way but rather, she had just not expected any of this. She tucked her loose hair behind her ear, brushing it off her face as she smiled softly at his words. Wow, she had really misjudged the situation. She was being so paranoid when she thought he was insulting her or pranking her or something. Turns out, he just thought she was cool and got a little nervous about it? That was really sweet, actually.
"Oh, well uh thank you. I'm glad- I mean, I'm glad that you're not being bullied. Not that you're complimenting me. I mean, I don't think that's a bad thing either. You know what I mean!" She managed to stammer out before shaking her head to herself, taking a breath and starting again, "I'm glad you're okay and thank you for the compliments."
In fairness, the comment that he made about being unable to afford it was lost on her. She had no idea how different their families were when it came to wealth. Whilst she had magical folk in her family, her grandfather and mother worked incredibly hard to earn money. They were not poor, by any means, but they were not well enough to quit their jobs and just chill. They worked for a reason and with the amount of squibs in her family line, they had very little influence on the magical world. In fact, they had more influence in the muggle world than the magical and in truth, they had basically no influence in the muggle world either. Aamon's family had a level of money and the affluence that she could not quite comprehend. But she did not question it. Maybe bullies had to pay some sort of fine if they were caught. She had no idea, but that would have made sense. Hogwarts needed money too!
Xiomara shook her head, with a smile on her face, as he claimed to have gone overboard as she tried to make him feel better. Yeah, okay, maybe he had been a little much but it was for a nice intention and that was enough, right? She felt bad for judging him so quickly and jumping straight to mistrust when he had done nothing to deserve that. Conversely, she completely believed his words now and had jumped right into trusting him again - not even noticing any of his lies.
"No no, I think it would be fun! I got a new camera recently and was going to go to take some photos anyway so, yeah, I think it would be nice! I was thinking I should take some pictures for the Headliner, yanno?" Xiomara replied - not really realising that she was implying she would be there anyway so she "might as well", "And don't worry about it, I think it was kinda sweet, actually," She continued as she tried to make him feel better. When it came to words, she was not really the most articulate person - nor was her vocabulary as expansive as his, but she was trying, "I mean, what I'm trying to say is that, I'd love to go with you. " There, that wasn't so hard, was it!
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.⋆✩•₊⁺∙°❀∘∙☽𝄞☾∙∘❀°∙⁺₊•✩⋆.
14 Oct 2024, 00:16
Great Expectations at Table Ravenclaw
Aamon’s heart practically leapt out of his chest when Xiomara smiled at him. He had been certain he’d completely blown it with his, well… over the top display. But now, she wasn’t running away, wasn’t giving him weird looks anymore—she was actually smiling.
As she spoke, fumbling with her words, Aamon’s own nerves began to settle. He even found himself chuckling softly as she stammered through her reply. There was something about the way she blushed and nervously tucked her hair behind her ear that made him realize how much they were both in the same boat—both awkward, both trying to make sense of this strange interaction. Preadolescence is a strange thing. Wait, did her hair had changed color for a second? Well, he wasn’t sure what that meant, but it made her seem even more... unique. Cool, even.
“O-oh!” Aamon blurted out, still a bit off balance but definitely grinning now. “That’s—yeah, I’m not being bullied, I swear. I just—well, I guess I didn’t know how else to say it, you know? I thought maybe the flowers and the dumbbell were good ideas but, uh, in hindsight...” He scratched his head sheepishly. He left out how he practiced his dramatic lines. “Maybe I should’ve gone with something more normal. Like a card? Or just, uh, saying ‘hey’” like a regular person but he had no concept of normalcy.
He laughed awkwardly, still sitting on the floor, but feeling a lot less embarrassed now. When she mentioned her camera, Aamon’s eyes lit up. “A camera? Oh, wow, that’s awesome! You’re gonna take pictures for the Headliner? That’s so cool, you’re like... going to be famous! I mean, yeah, totally! We can go together, and I’ll... I’ll hold your camera bag or something?” He was babbling again, but at least now it was out of excitement.
When she said, I’d love to go with you, Aamon froze for a second, blinking as the words sunk in. She... actually wanted to go with him? Cool.
“R-really? You would? Wow, I mean, that’s amazing! Thank you, Xiomara!” He smiled so wide his cheeks started to hurt, finally standing up and offering her a hand—though she probably didn’t need it. “I promise, I’ll try not to be so... weird at the actual ball," lie number four. "Maybe I’ll even practice not falling into any food.”
He laughed again, feeling lighter than he had all day. Sure, it hadn’t been smooth. Sure, he’d made a fool of himself in front of everyone. But now, she was going to the ball with him—and for Aamon, that was all that really mattered. He would fish his breakfast out of his pocket, it was a granola bar he had brought from home and find a nearby open seat that would now be porridge-stained.
He was going to have to owl his father than tell him the good news, ask for funds to be fitted, coordinate a barber, a cobbler, a florist. He would take a bite from his bar and look around him. Today was going to be a good day. Nothing would go wrong at the ball in a matter of days he silently told himself, briefly hopeful.
As she spoke, fumbling with her words, Aamon’s own nerves began to settle. He even found himself chuckling softly as she stammered through her reply. There was something about the way she blushed and nervously tucked her hair behind her ear that made him realize how much they were both in the same boat—both awkward, both trying to make sense of this strange interaction. Preadolescence is a strange thing. Wait, did her hair had changed color for a second? Well, he wasn’t sure what that meant, but it made her seem even more... unique. Cool, even.
“O-oh!” Aamon blurted out, still a bit off balance but definitely grinning now. “That’s—yeah, I’m not being bullied, I swear. I just—well, I guess I didn’t know how else to say it, you know? I thought maybe the flowers and the dumbbell were good ideas but, uh, in hindsight...” He scratched his head sheepishly. He left out how he practiced his dramatic lines. “Maybe I should’ve gone with something more normal. Like a card? Or just, uh, saying ‘hey’” like a regular person but he had no concept of normalcy.
He laughed awkwardly, still sitting on the floor, but feeling a lot less embarrassed now. When she mentioned her camera, Aamon’s eyes lit up. “A camera? Oh, wow, that’s awesome! You’re gonna take pictures for the Headliner? That’s so cool, you’re like... going to be famous! I mean, yeah, totally! We can go together, and I’ll... I’ll hold your camera bag or something?” He was babbling again, but at least now it was out of excitement.
When she said, I’d love to go with you, Aamon froze for a second, blinking as the words sunk in. She... actually wanted to go with him? Cool.
“R-really? You would? Wow, I mean, that’s amazing! Thank you, Xiomara!” He smiled so wide his cheeks started to hurt, finally standing up and offering her a hand—though she probably didn’t need it. “I promise, I’ll try not to be so... weird at the actual ball," lie number four. "Maybe I’ll even practice not falling into any food.”
He laughed again, feeling lighter than he had all day. Sure, it hadn’t been smooth. Sure, he’d made a fool of himself in front of everyone. But now, she was going to the ball with him—and for Aamon, that was all that really mattered. He would fish his breakfast out of his pocket, it was a granola bar he had brought from home and find a nearby open seat that would now be porridge-stained.
He was going to have to owl his father than tell him the good news, ask for funds to be fitted, coordinate a barber, a cobbler, a florist. He would take a bite from his bar and look around him. Today was going to be a good day. Nothing would go wrong at the ball in a matter of days he silently told himself, briefly hopeful.
OC: Just tying up here, this was a fast thread. TY.
iNPC: Taylor Athanatos
14 Oct 2024, 12:50
Great Expectations at Table Ravenclaw
X I O M A R A - M A R I S O L - T O R R E S
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Interacting with @Aamon Athanatos ♥ ♥ ♥♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ Date & Time: Breakfast, pre-ball
Metamorphmagus: Active ♥ ♥♥♥ ♥ Outfit: Plaid PJ bottoms and a t-shirt
♥♥♥ "No! It's a great gift!" Xiomara declared all of a sudden as he started to doubt the handmade gift, which she quickly realised was called a dumbbell by his words. She snatched the wooden gift quickly, before he could take it back. It might not have been the most 'normal' thing to give to someone but it was crafted by hand, which gave it so much more meaning, and it was something that he had - clearly - put in a lot of work and effort into. He had thought about it, not just randomly picked something up from the ground (which was what she literally thought had been happening before). It had meaning and it was sweet, "I love it! I'll treasure it! Who wants normal anyway? That's boring," She continued, with a firm nod, deciding that she would be this strong person that he claimed to see in her, even if she was not sure it was warranted. At the very least, it seemed like he was not talking about physical strength but rather, mental or emotional strength and that was something anyone could have.
The blush on her face deepened a little and she found herself grinning back at him as he seemed to light up and be genuinely interested in her hobby of photography as well as her reporting career. Not that it could be called a 'career' yet but she was enjoying it. "That would be great, thank you," She smiled at him, starting to get a hold over herself again as she nodded. Xiomara did not really need someone to hold her camera bag for her but it was super sweet of him to offer, so she did not want to turn it down.
In the same vain, she took his hand when he offered and stood back up. A laugh escaped her lips as he made a promise to not be so weird and practice not falling into food. With a toothy grin, she nodded, "The weirdness, I can handle. But if we can avoid wasting food, that's probably a good thing!" She responded. He was a bit weird. But it was kind of sweet. And it made him unique, at the very least.
"Well, speaking of wasted food, I should probably eat that before it gets cold but I'll meet you before the ball then." Xiomara finished as she pointed towards the plate of food on the table which was still half-full of food that she intended on finishing. She did not notice that his only source of food was the breakfast bar that he pulled out of his pocket, thinking that was likely just an after breakfast snack or maybe even a pre-breakfast snack. Because come on, who only ate a bar when there were so many options.
The Ravenclaw sat back down on the table and continued her beans on toast before it got too soggy, cold and gross. She would probably go for some of the porridge afterwards, now that she thought about it. Shaking her head to herself as she chuckled lightly, she moved the flowers to the side and put the dumbbell down (and the gemstone if he had not taken it back) and continued to eat. People around were likely staring at her but she did not bother to acknowledge anything, opting to continue to eat like nothing had ever happened.
Thread Finished!!
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14 Oct 2024, 19:20
Great Expectations at Table Ravenclaw
Aamon stood there, staring at Xiomara in pure disbelief, his heart thudding so loudly he was sure she could hear it. She loved the dumbbell? She was actually keeping it? A huge wave of relief and excitement washed over him as she snatched it out of his hands. He couldn’t believe it. He had fully prepared for her to think it was too weird or just toss it aside like most people would have. But not Xiomara. She actually appreciated it—and she even said normal was boring!
His grin grew so wide that his face hurt, but he didn’t care. “Y-you’ll treasure it?” he stammered, still trying to wrap his head around the idea that she saw something in his handmade gift. “That’s… wow. That means a lot, Xiomara. I—I’m really glad you like it.”
The blush on her face didn’t go unnoticed, and Aamon’s insides fluttered in ways he couldn’t explain. This whole situation had started as a clumsy disaster, but now? It felt like he was on top of the world. She had smiled at him—actually smiled—and now she was even thanking him for offering to carry her camera bag. He made a mental note to be the best camera-bag-carrier Hogwarts had ever seen.
When she laughed at his joke about food, Aamon felt a warm surge of happiness. He had never been so relieved to hear someone say they could handle his weirdness. "Alright, noted—no more food falls!" A blatant lie even if it was unintentional. "But hey, if I do trip into a pudding bowl or something, I’ll try to make it look cool." He laughed, feeling more comfortable now. Xiomara didn’t seem to mind his awkwardness, and that was honestly the best feeling in the world.
As she mentioned her food and sat back down, Aamon nodded quickly. “Oh, right, yeah! Definitely finish up—I’ll leave you to it.” He glanced down at the bar in his pocket, realizing he looked like a complete weirdo eating only that when there was an entire feast before him. He cleared his throat, suddenly self-conscious. “Uh, I, uh—had an early start, so... you know, quick snack!” he babbled, trying to save face. She hadn’t seemed to notice, though, so he figured he was safe. He did not trust the school-provided meal, in fact he was warned against it.
“Anyway, I’ll see you before the ball, then!” Aamon gave her a small wave, still grinning like an idiot, and slowly backed away from the table. His brain was still buzzing with excitement as he bumped into an unfortunate student. Xiomara had actually said yes.
As he walked back to his seat, his heart was still pounding, and he felt lighter than air. Sure, he was weird. Sure, he’d made a mess of things. But somehow, it had worked out. He glanced back one last time at Xiomara, smiling to himself as she continued eating like nothing had happened.
This was going to be the best ball ever.
His grin grew so wide that his face hurt, but he didn’t care. “Y-you’ll treasure it?” he stammered, still trying to wrap his head around the idea that she saw something in his handmade gift. “That’s… wow. That means a lot, Xiomara. I—I’m really glad you like it.”
The blush on her face didn’t go unnoticed, and Aamon’s insides fluttered in ways he couldn’t explain. This whole situation had started as a clumsy disaster, but now? It felt like he was on top of the world. She had smiled at him—actually smiled—and now she was even thanking him for offering to carry her camera bag. He made a mental note to be the best camera-bag-carrier Hogwarts had ever seen.
When she laughed at his joke about food, Aamon felt a warm surge of happiness. He had never been so relieved to hear someone say they could handle his weirdness. "Alright, noted—no more food falls!" A blatant lie even if it was unintentional. "But hey, if I do trip into a pudding bowl or something, I’ll try to make it look cool." He laughed, feeling more comfortable now. Xiomara didn’t seem to mind his awkwardness, and that was honestly the best feeling in the world.
As she mentioned her food and sat back down, Aamon nodded quickly. “Oh, right, yeah! Definitely finish up—I’ll leave you to it.” He glanced down at the bar in his pocket, realizing he looked like a complete weirdo eating only that when there was an entire feast before him. He cleared his throat, suddenly self-conscious. “Uh, I, uh—had an early start, so... you know, quick snack!” he babbled, trying to save face. She hadn’t seemed to notice, though, so he figured he was safe. He did not trust the school-provided meal, in fact he was warned against it.
“Anyway, I’ll see you before the ball, then!” Aamon gave her a small wave, still grinning like an idiot, and slowly backed away from the table. His brain was still buzzing with excitement as he bumped into an unfortunate student. Xiomara had actually said yes.
As he walked back to his seat, his heart was still pounding, and he felt lighter than air. Sure, he was weird. Sure, he’d made a mess of things. But somehow, it had worked out. He glanced back one last time at Xiomara, smiling to himself as she continued eating like nothing had happened.
This was going to be the best ball ever.
Thread Left
iNPC: Taylor Athanatos