Errand Pumpkin Destruction Day

Date: 10th November

Dialogue: Darkred

Errand

Word Count: 460/400

Destruction. It was the only word Mason needed to see on the sign-up sheet to be interested, it just so happened they would be destroying pumpkins. The classes and endless homework was finally waning on him and he just needed something to take his frustration on, and this was the perfect opportunity to do so. As he hiked around the grounds, in a plain white t-shirt and black jeans that he didn’t mind got ruined, to no surprise, many of his fellow students were already scattered around, swinging their hammers about, and by just looking at them he’d be surprised if there’d been no accidents at all.

“This is gonna be wicked.” he said out loud to himself, tightly gripping onto one of the multiple hammers that laid on a long table in front of him.

After spending some time searching the grounds for something to smash, he approached a medium-sized pumpkin perched on a wooden platform. It was squat and lopsided, with a deep gouge on one side that made it look like it was already halfway to give up. Mason planted his feet firmly on the ground and lifted the hammer over his head.

“Take this!” he said, as he swung the hammer down with all the strength he could muster.

The hammer connected with a satisfying thunk, and the pumpkin caved in slightly, its tough skin splitting just enough to let some juice and seeds ooze out. Mason couldn’t help but grin, this was probably the most fun he had in weeks. He swung again, this time harder, and the pumpkin practically exploded under the force, chunks flying in all directions.

He quickly moved onto a nearby pumpkin, this one was a bit taller than the other, but that didn’t stop him from swinging his hammer again, this time needing three solid hits to crack the rough exterior. By the time he was finished, the pumpkin pulp and seeds were splattered all over his clothing.

Mason wiped some orange goo from his cheek and gave a sheepish grin as he turned to the next victim. He worked through pumpkin after pumpkin, each one slowly taking away the build-up of frustration he had gained over the past few weeks.

His arms eventually began to ache, and he fell back on his arse just to take a breath. The ground around him looked like a war zone, littered with chunks of orange flesh, slippery seeds, and the occasional intact pumpkin that had somehow survived the chaos. He couldn’t stop the grin that tugged at his lips.

All he could think was how Pumpkin Destruction Day was now probably his favourite unofficial holiday.

PUMPKIN DESTRUCTION DAY!
Destroy pumpkins. Like, lots of pumpkins. Why not? You'll get to earn a house point and all. And destroy pumpkins. Speaking of destroying pumpkins, you really should.

Date	:	November 10th, 2024
Color code	:	Written|Thought|Said

Finished with her business in destroying pumpkins using magic spells, Sere looked around and just realized that more students were coming and joining this activity. Sere who had finished early intended to immediately go back into the castle. The girl turned around and stepped away from the activity's area, but only after a few steps her gaze accidentally caught two familiar students interacting.

Being in such a good mood, Sere decided to approach and greet both of them: the girl who was her train-back-home compartment mate and the gorgeous boy -her senior in duelling- who was nicely willing to be her duel practice partner. "Nice to meet you again, Kim." Sere nodded politely to Kim Sato then said to Brookline, "Hi! So you're joining this event too!" Sere saw the hammer that Brookline had put back in its original place, "How does it feel? Good? It feels like getting my sanity back for me." She tidied up her hair.

The British-Korean girl then continued her words, asked for accompany "I am going back into the castle. Wanna walk together?" The girl didn't forget to turn to her senior and ask the same thing, "You too, Kim. Let's walk back together if you're done with your business here." Sere waited for their answers. However, whether she has accompany or not, she will still walk back into the castle.

OOC Notes :
For Brookline and Kim, please bother to godmod Sere walking back into the castle if you want to make a reply against this post because I won't make anymore replies. Thank you!

Interacting with : @Brookline Quinn & @Kim Sato
Word Count : 460+227/400

Aston was just sitting under a tree in the grounds, he wanted another sketch of the great lake.
He was leaning against the tree, after that one time last year where he fell off he avoided climbing on tree when other people might be around. Most people seem to not take kindly to suddenly realising a whole person was in the tree above them and they never noticed. Even though that only happened once it was enough for Aston to move his place to drawing under the tree instead of on the tree.

Just as Aston was finishing up the drawing he heard his name get yelled out as someone came over. He didn't get much time to pack his things before Alex just dragged him up and told him they were going pumpkin smashing. He does remember hearing about Cass setting up something like that. "Uh okay!" At least Aston managed to shove his pencils and sketch book in his jacket pockets before Alex dragged him away.

When they got to the place of the pumpkins Aston excitedly took the hammer offered to him from Alex,. He was glad to see that Alex seemed to be as excited about the event as him. "Sure, some practice for my aim will be nice. I wonder how similar this will be to axe throwing, not like I've ever done it, I hear it's fun though." Aston was a little disappointed that his plan was disrupted, but this plan seems just as fun as his original plan of spending the afternoon drawing. It felt like since he came to Hogwarts he's spent a lot less time doing his hobbies, a strong contrast to home. During the holidays he spent a lot of time doing things since his dad was still working. He read a few new books and even did some drawing of his dad that Aston thinks isn't too bad. Certainly far better than any of his other attempts in the past, there was a reason he mainly drew lakes and forests.

Speaking of hobbies it's been a while since Aston last went camping, back before he started school every once in a while his dad would take a few days off and go camping with him. But now that barely happens, Aston doesn't remember the last time he really spent time with his dad. I guess he's just been busy?

Aston nodded along to Alex's instruction, smiling at her threat. "Don't worry I got pretty good aim." After he said it he lifted up the hammer and threw it at the pumpkin, his pumpkin on the left. And it hit right on it, smashing the pumpkin to bits. Aston laughed and said to Alex "Okay your turn now!"

Word Count 458/400

Brookline saw the taller older boy wedge his way into her path towards the rubbish bin. She smiled, and glanced at him as he spoke. He was talking about pumpkin goop and pulp and seeds and the rest of those pumpkin things that probably had names for but Brookline didn’t know.

Oh yes, food! Pumpkin pie, yes, that is how you make pumpkin pie: right out of the solid/liquid sticky stuff inside! Yes that’s right, folks, it looks yucky but taste good! The Welsh Ravenclaw thought as she processed the boy’s question. She tipped her head, and nodded, “Mmhmm, of course! I just didn’t want anyone to hurt themselves, because, well, someone could slip on it. And I do not want to hurt absolutely anyone.”

Then the boy held out his container, Brookline nodded, and took bits of the pulp in her arms inside the container. She was almost done putting the rest inside when a familiar voice had made its way to the boy and Brookline. It was Sere! She was speaking to the boy, calling him “Kim”. Then Sere turned to her.

“Hiya Sere! It’s nice to see you again. Yes, it feels good.” Brookline smiled, and took a breath of fresh air. The cold smelled smelled greatly of pumpkins. She would loved to smell non-rotten pumpkins as their scent is much better than smashed pumpkins that might be slightly rotten. Oh great. Now I’ve gotta tidy up and I’ll smell like a shitty pumpkin for weeks on end now! She put the rest of the pulp in Kim’s container. “I hope this will be able to be baked into delicious pies!” Brookline remarked, glancing at Kim.


Then Sere spoke up again, asking the Ravenclaw and the older boy to walk back with her. “Sure, I’m done now!” Brookline smiled, and pulled her hair back. It was in two Dutch-braids but working and smashing pumpkins, makes you feel warm. She waved her hand to get direct breeze on her face.

A day of smashing pumpkins certainly sounded fun, but Aly was beginning to wish she hadn't dressed like one. Plucking at one of the protuberant stitches on the sleeve of her thick orange sweater, the Ravenclaw wondered, briefly, how many of the ickle firsties at today's event would try to take a swing at her. These days, she was on a short enough thread that if an eleven-year-old tried to take her out at the kneecaps, she might just swing back - presuming she wasn't shorter than them, of course. (Seriously, what were they feeding kids these days?)

Nevertheless, she showed up - at the end of the allotted time, to avoid coming in contact with any of the early birds she may or may not have been avoiding. While some of the other errand-goers had chosen to take their pumpkins out with magic, Aly was in for some good old-fashioned rage-room-ing (of course, she didn't even know about the concept of a rage room, but the idea of taking out your anger in a healthy and harmless way is a universal concept even for wix). Sure enough, there were a lot of smaller students about (age-wise, perhaps not height-wise), and Aly carefully picked her way around them and their scattered pumpkin guts as she headed over to the pumpkins and grabbed one of the biggest ones. It was nearly the size of her head, but she managed to tuck it under one arm and walk to an unoccupied area of the grounds.

After all, her other hand was already full - with a bat.

@Rebecca Lark, Aly's mini-me and captain, had been kind enough to lend Aly her Beater's bat for the day. The sixth-year had tried many a Quidditch position - Keeper, Seeker, Chaser - but the one she'd never touched had been Beater, despite her willingness to bounce around the Ravenclaw team and fill in wherever she was needed. (Well, at least she had been willing to do so before landing the coveted first-string Seeker spot. Now she was more focused on honing those skills.) Still, the bat had always called to her a little bit, as if she'd held it in another life, and destroying pumpkins seemed like the perfect way to test it out.

So, armed with Bex's bat, Aly went ham on the pumpkin, bringing the heavy ligneous club down onto squishy orange skin - that, satisfyingly, broke in two beneath her wooden wrath. Bringing the bat up over her head, Aly swung it down, repeating this process until the giant globe was nothing but chunks of pumpkin pulp under her. She completed the somehow-gratifying destruction with a couple stomps of her boots, then used her wand and a well-placed "Scourgify!" to siphon any leftover stringy seeds and orange mash off of the Beater's bat. Can't return a dirty bat to Bex, or she'll never let me borrow it again!

For she had enjoyed her time as a Beater, even if it hadn't been atop a broom. The smile lingered on Aly's face as she turned heel and left the grounds, swinging the bat from hand to hand as if she'd held it her whole life...

It was a chilly late autumn day at the Hogwarts Ground, where a crisp breeze rustled through the remaining leaves on the trees. Jan stood before a messily scrawled sign that seemed to have been written in quite a hurry. He was bundled up against the cold in his favorite sweatshirt and well-worn cargo pants, with a prized Ravenclaw scarf from his older housemate wrapping around his neck. An unofficial celebration dedicated to the destruction of pumpkins had never crossed his mind before today, but here he was, contemplating participation.

The reward in the form of several chocolate frogs had caught his attention, and after careful consideration of the rather unusual task at hand, he decided to add his name to the growing list of volunteers who were willing to undertake the errand of destroying the orange gourds.

“Let's get this job done,” Jan muttered to himself after carefully reading through the sign one more time. With determined steps, he headed to the wooden table where various hammers had been laid out for the task. He picked up a sturdy-looking hammer, testing its weight in his hand and giving it a few experimental swings to get a feel for the tool before gathering a plenty of unsmashed pumpkins nearby the table.

Being mindful of the other participants engaged in their own destructive endeavors, Jan found himself a relatively secluded spot away from the crowd where he could work without disturbing others. With careful movements, he set the pumpkins down in a neat arrangement on the ground, took a moment to properly adjust his protective gloves for better grip, planted his feet firmly in a stable stance, and raised the hammer high above his head in preparation for the first strike. With a mighty swing, he smashed the first pumpkin into chunks, its seeds flying everywhere.

“One down, nine more to go,” he sighed, brushing some of the orange flecks off his sweatshirt and scarf. He turned to the next pumpkin, continuing his methodical destruction—smashing some with the hammer and stomping on others.

Jan's swings grew increasingly aggressive with each passing moment, his movements becoming much more purposeful as the pile of intact pumpkins steadily diminished before him. The rhythmic thud of hammer meeting the orange gourd had become almost meditative, and a thin sheen of sweat now glistened on his forehead despite the autumn chill. As he worked his way through the collection, the scattered remains of his previous victims created an ever-growing sea of orange fragments around his feet. Eventually, only one pumpkin remained untouched. Jan wiped his brow, adjusted his grip on the hammer, and approached the pumpkin.

“Alright, big guy, you're the last one standing,” Jan declared in a drained manner as he adjusted his stance once more. “I'll make this a memorable finale.” He took a deep breath to steady himself before he swung his hammer a couple of times, each initial strike merely produced a dull thud rather than the satisfying crack he had.

“Oh come on,” he groaned in frustration before kicking the massive pumpkin. To much of his surprise, the pumpkin suddenly burst apart with a loud splorch, scattering sticky chunks and seeds in every direction, leaving him with sticky stains of the pumpkin. Sighing heavily, Jan trudged over to the wooden table, his footsteps sticky with remnants of pmpkin. He slammed the hammer onto the table with a little more force than necessary before heading to the castle. The last, massive pumpkin was indeed a memorable finale.

WC:437
Interacting with : Open
Date: 08/11/24

𝕽uth Fairchild was bored out of her wits.

No, not bored,she corrected herself. Just need something to do with my hands.A brisk walk around the school grounds was pleasant but not filling enough for the girl. She needed action, excitement, exhilaration.

A sign caught Ruth’s attention from a distance, and she wandered over in curiosity. Scrawled handwriting greeted her, and after careful re-reading (and re-reading), Ruth could still barely comprehend the information. Smashing pumpkins? Smashing pumpkins? Despite herself, a sly smile peeked out from her lips. Oh, yeah.

Ruth glanced over the sign to the ground behind it. She was met with a fascinating sight, with numerous students smashing the pumpkins in what seemed like…glee? The emotions that ran through everyone’s expressions were similar but so different. Some yelled as they struck, others silent and concentrated. Some did the work in twos, most on their own. Ruth grinned and made a grab for a hammer available, testing its weight in her hands. She had never really held a hammer before, her parents insisting on leaving the rough work to the boys in the family. Out of all things, mused to herself, smashing pumpkins is what I ended up using a hammer for.

Chuckling, she made her way around the already smashed fruits, eyeing the ones still standing. Perhaps it was the cold or from all that walking, but Ruth could barely smells the scent of pumpkin in the air. When she could, it barely lingered, unconsciously reminding her of a pumpkin iced latte that her dad used to have during this time of the year.

She squelched the feeling as just like how she squelched her very first pumpkin, underestimating her strength as she smashed cleaned through a small pumpkin, leaving a dent in the soft ground. Grunting, she tugged the hammer out, surprised. Ruth wasn’t the strongest girl around and would probably consider herself the weakest. The homesickness must have attributed to the impact in some way.

Despite how effective that would make to smash through pumpkins, Ruth wanted to have fun. It wasn’t fun to think about her family from so far away. Instead of channeling sadness into the work, she relaxed her shoulders, braced herself, and smashed through a far bigger one. Joy surfaced out of the minor accomplishment and she ignored the pumpkin stains on her boots, laughing to herself as she crossed the grounds to reach another.

She swung her hammer again, and again, and again, the sounds and the flesh giving her a strange sense of satisfaction. Am I really that ruthless?she thought to herself as she flexed her wrist. Taking a quick break, she settled the hammer down and took a look around. Everyone around her seemed to be taking each pumpkin out in a relentless desire to extinguish something, such as violence and anger. She stared off into the distance, where a familiar boy was working his back off smashing pumpkins. Jan?

Ruth raised a hand and prepared to holler into the distance, but she caught the intense look in his beautiful pale eyes and halted. She dawned with quiet realisation. A frustration reliever. That was the indirect name for the errand, wasn’t it?

Drained, Ruth trudged back to the sign and placed the drenched hammer down. As she walked back to her common room, she licked a speck of pumpkin off her top lip, and smiled.

WC:572
Mentions:@Jan Dehoff