4 Dec 2024, 16:15
A keen sense, aye?
Coming back from Christmas break is hard for a lot of people. They got to sleep in late, not do school, and more. For Oakleigh, it was honestly both a break and a stress. She was away from home, which meant she wasn't reminded of such troubles that occured. However, she was back at school, where she had to interact with people. She honestly didn't want to. Things were trouble enough. A sheet of parchment was laid out in front of her on the table. Didymus was on the table, odd for him as he enjoys her hair, making a web on the corner of the paper to the table.
She read through the letter. One send from her brother earlier in the year. Oakleigh was a collector of many things. Every letter she got she kept in a box under her bed. No execption was made for this exact letter. The loops on every letter was a distant comfort to the storn raging deep inside.
She let Didymus make his web, as it made him happy. Taranutlas didn't use their web like normal spiders. They used it for homes. However, for Sir Didymus's case, leisure.
The girl had hardly spoken to anyone since christmas break. Oddly enough, she even stayed away from the blond that was slowly fading from her mind. The occasional 'G'day' or 'Nice day, ain't e'te?' was all that was spoken. She'd been forgetting her contects, so the migranes were over the roof. Ever since a lioness gave her a weird look about her glasses, she stopped wearing them. Geez, one was coming on at the current moment.
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ReducioOwl moi to join.
ReducioJanuary 7th, 2025
Reducio@Elena Clarkword count: 272/200
ꜱʜᴇ ʜᴀᴅ ᴀ ᴘʀᴇᴛᴛʏ ꜰᴀᴄᴇ, ʙᴜᴛ ʜᴇʀ ʜᴇᴀᴅ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴜᴘ ɪɴ ꜱᴘᴀᴄᴇ. ꜱʜᴇ ɴᴇᴇᴅᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴄᴏᴍᴇ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴅᴏᴡɴ ᴛᴏ ᴇᴀʀᴛʜ.
Sylvie LaCroix
4 Dec 2024, 17:04
A keen sense, aye?
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| xxxxxxxx | Humming to herself, Elena pushed the heavy wooden doors, revealing a familiar and comforting sea of books stacked on shelves, warm lights flickering there and then. Trailing her slender fingers across the railing, she slowly walked down the stairs. A heavy bag, filled with extra school work and books she had yet to read was resting against her hip. Her honey hair was trailing down her shoulders, a single strand falling in front of her navy eyes. She muffled a yawn, tugging on her dark blue sweater - a christmas gift, along with the pearl necklace decorating her neck. January's air was freezing, causing a light rose colour to lighten her nose and cheek. She rubbed her hands against each other, the warmth of the library slowly chasing the cold away. Her gaze wandered through the somewhat empty area, searching for a free table. Spotting one tugged in the corner, she started walking towards it. Her tracks stopped when she saw a girl about her age sitting at a nearby table. She didn't know what had stopped her. Elena couldn't see the girl's face, but it was something about the way she held herself. Hurt. No, not hurt. Deeper. Grief. The scene flickered. She was young again, looking at her mother's silhouette. Her back facing her, the once radiant smile faded, replaced by a hollow gaze. The despair of her father, unable to help her. Powerless. And that pain. Invasive. Like smoke, everywhere, blinding, choking. Poisoning the air. Slowing your movements, your brain, turning you into a shell of what you once were. Elena blinked twice, making the flash back go away. She hesitated - maybe she wanted to be alone ? One would guess the young raven would be use to comforting people by now, but it never got easier. Clutching her bag, she slowly made her way to the table. "Hi," she said softly, a shadow of a smile lingering on the corner of her mouth. After a short analysis, she thought this girl would be more likely to open up if she appeared calm and comforting rather than overly happy. She seemingly needed an ear to listen and a shoulder to cry on, not to be cheered up. The unknown girl was looking at a letter, a small spider making its web next to her. "Would you mind if I sit ?" She asked, her right thumb slowly rubbing her left ring - the only external sign of her inner dialogue. |
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| ❝ 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐧-𝐝𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐤, 𝐡𝐚𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝, 𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐥.❞ ☘︎ STAFF ACCOUNT ; ᴍᴀʟᴀɪᴋᴀ ᴏᴍᴇɴᴜᴋᴏ |
5 Dec 2024, 14:31
A keen sense, aye?
The young eagle looked up at the girl who had spoken to her. She reconized her, she knew who she was. The blonde girl from the ball. She didn't do anything to her, execpt catch the eye of the Demarst boy.
The calm deamenor of the girl was... soothing. She was even more surpised that she didn't jump at the sight of Didymus. He was a good size, his body the good size of a baseball. His legs were excluded in this sizing. "Uh, sure. Yeez cannea sit." The scottish girl said, closing the letter and putting it back in the envelope. Her voice was soft and breathy. Didymus raised his front two legs in a form of protest towards Oakleigh. She put her hand out to allow the tarantula to climb up. He did just that, climbing up to her shoulder to nest in her hair. There was some webbing behind her ear and in her hair to make a little cave that he snuggled into.
She looked at the girl beside her. Beautiful. Yeah. She would've thought that the girl was stuck up. Oakleigh was wrong. She was... glad that she was wrong. Hopefully this was the start of some comfort.
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ReducioNeope
ReducioJan 7th 2025
Reducio@Elena Clark@Sanguinius Demarestword count: 203/200
ꜱʜᴇ ʜᴀᴅ ᴀ ᴘʀᴇᴛᴛʏ ꜰᴀᴄᴇ, ʙᴜᴛ ʜᴇʀ ʜᴇᴀᴅ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴜᴘ ɪɴ ꜱᴘᴀᴄᴇ. ꜱʜᴇ ɴᴇᴇᴅᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴄᴏᴍᴇ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴅᴏᴡɴ ᴛᴏ ᴇᴀʀᴛʜ.
Sylvie LaCroix
8 Dec 2024, 15:03
A keen sense, aye?
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| xxxxxxxx | Tugging a golden strand behind her ear, the ravenclaw studied her new interlocutor as one would do with a new book opening before them. She had tousled coffee brown hair, that seemed to have a mind of their own, and deep, rich caramel eyes, the type that had countless different hues if met with the right sunlight. Her bangs flirted with the top of her eyebrows, and she had a faint dimple in the middle of her right cheek - a girl who lost her smile. Beautiful was not a word she would use to describe her, she looked more like a soft grizzly stumbling out from a cotton candy universe. Cute was more fitting. It however seemed like the world she evolved in had lost its colour, leaving her with faint traces of her once joyful demeanor. Seeing people loose their spark, even if she had never witnessed it in the first place, always left the young girl with an overwhelming urge to reignite it. Lively souls growing quiet was more than she could bear, and she had made it her personal mission to bring them back to life. Unable to produce a spark of her own, she had learned to stay close to those who burned brightly. Stay close to those whose fire could warm the frost clinging to her spirit. Her sapphire eyes flickered to the spider playing around on the table. Arachnids were not her favourite kind of animals, but she did not mind them. Although she would not let it climb up her arm like the brown haired girl was currently doing. Trying to ignore the fact the spider was making its web in the girl's hair, she smiled as she put down her bag on the wooden table. She pushed her blonde locks behind her shoulder and grabbed a heavy book from beneath the table. The tome was laying on the table, giving her some comfort as she tried to determine the best way of acting. The girl's brown eyes flickered strangely when she saw Elena's face, which made the young girl wonder. A gaze she could not quite place lingered at the very bottom of those caramel eyes, something like bitterness ? Envy ? Or was it simply the girl's pain that overlapped everything else, confusing Elena ? Choosing to not question any further, the ravenclaw focused on how to start the conversation. "My name is Elena," she said after a few seconds, extending a hand. "Elena Clark." |
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| ❝ 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐧-𝐝𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐤, 𝐡𝐚𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝, 𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐥.❞ ☘︎ STAFF ACCOUNT ; ᴍᴀʟᴀɪᴋᴀ ᴏᴍᴇɴᴜᴋᴏ |
11 Dec 2024, 14:11
A keen sense, aye?
Oakleigh was glad to know this girl's name. Elena.. It was a nice name with a nice vibe. Nellie, that would be a nice nickname for the girl. Well, she thought so. Why was she thinking of nicknames for a girl she didn't even know? Oakleigh sighed before taking the blonde's hand with her own, which was decorated with shiny rings of all colours. "Oakleigh Bell." She replied. A heavy Scottish accent was noticable.
The large collection of written words that the girl placed on the table was intriguing. A bit of light reading, aye? She could understand. Sometimes, when she felt like reading, she'd grab a book that size. Her eyes noticed the girl's attire. The sweater seemed to have been given with love, the pearl necklace an expensive gift for an eleven/twelve year old. If it was faux, it was understandable. Real pearls, seesh. A few Christmas gifts she guessed. Oakleigh had a few of her own on. She usually wore rainbow vans with every outfit, but her sister-in-law got her some Mary-Janes for christmas. They gave her a bit of height. The girl was already tall for her age, standing at 153 centimeters. The shoes made her around 160 centimeters in height.
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Reduciobeep
Reduciojan 7th
Reducio@Elena Clarkword count: 206/200
ꜱʜᴇ ʜᴀᴅ ᴀ ᴘʀᴇᴛᴛʏ ꜰᴀᴄᴇ, ʙᴜᴛ ʜᴇʀ ʜᴇᴀᴅ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴜᴘ ɪɴ ꜱᴘᴀᴄᴇ. ꜱʜᴇ ɴᴇᴇᴅᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴄᴏᴍᴇ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴅᴏᴡɴ ᴛᴏ ᴇᴀʀᴛʜ.
Sylvie LaCroix
3 Jan 2025, 17:48
A keen sense, aye?
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Give me something to work with,
she thought, as she shook the girl's hand - Oakleigh, if she captured correctly the heavy scottish accent that came out of her mouth. Their rings clanked against each other, bringing Elena's attention to the mismatched display of colors adorning Oakleigh's fingers. Her own rings in comparison seemed pale - heavy stones mounted on a delicate ornated ring. She wore her favourite today, labradorite and moonstone, each on either of her index fingers. Writing down that piece of information (something she could use to keep the conversation going), she let her gaze wander back to Oakleigh. "Nice to meet you, Oakleigh," she smiled, retracting her hand. "I thought I might use some company while working."
Lies, very much, as the young girl cherished her solitude. But someone had to start the conversation. And her comrade was apparently in no mood of doing so. Slightly tilting her head, she gazed at the now vanished letter Oakleigh previously held. "What about you ?" She asked with a polite yet intrigued tone. "Late homework ?"
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| ❝ 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐧-𝐝𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐤, 𝐡𝐚𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝, 𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐥.❞ ☘︎ STAFF ACCOUNT ; ᴍᴀʟᴀɪᴋᴀ ᴏᴍᴇɴᴜᴋᴏ |