Gallows Of The Undead Valentine's Day Cabin 2025

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────────

BEAUXBÂTONS
2025-02-12
@Ruth Fairchild, @Janosch Dehoff, @Pamela Graham, @Ira Thornfield, @Saunders Napier, @Aurelia Valentine, @Ameko Minatozaki

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────────

|

Mamori had barely made it three feet with Aurelia's trunk before he heard the familiar sound of her launching into another one of her epic lectures behind him. Smart move on his part, grabbing the trunk and making a break for it. If he'd lingered even a second longer or dared utter another word, he'd likely be suffering the same fate as that poor boy. He glanced back and shot the blonde boy a sympathetic look, offering three seconds of silent condolences. When he finally reached their cabin, the first thing that hit him wasn't the luggage-induced backache but the absolutely massive floor-to-ceiling windows showcasing a misty, verdant forest stretching as far as the eye could see. His initial reaction was appropriately childlike: pure awe. This lasted approximately 1.2 seconds before his brain kicked into its default mode — internal criticism. Windows that size meant curtains that almost certainly wouldn't block 100% of the light. Whoever was unlucky enough to be a night owl with a hatred for morning sunshine was absolutely screwed come dawn. After depositing Aurelia's trunk near the bedroom entrance, he was immediately accosted by Pam's textbook "concerned-for-the-recently-hospitalized" greeting: "I'm glad you're doing alright!" Mamori was sorely tempted to point out that he hadn't actually gotten into any trouble or faced punishment — he'd simply had the minor inconvenience of briefly touching death's doorknob before spending several luxurious days unconscious, conveniently missing classes, and waking up just in time for a Valentine's trip. If anything, that sounded more like winning than trouble. But instead, he flashed Pam a finger snap that smoothly transitioned into an OK gesture before waving her off. "I'll sort my stuff out first. We can play explorer later," he said. They had an entire week, no need to rush the first five minutes. His decision to prioritize unpacking proved prescient when he walked into the bedroom just in time to witness one of his roommates claimed a bottom bunk with a simple "Dib this!" So it was a race, then? Challenge accepted. Mamori immediately bolted to the second bunk bed and flung his belongings onto the bottom mattress with impressive speed. "Y'all don't mind if I take this one, right?" he asked the two boys behind him, feigning innocence and blinking twice. "I'm fresh out of the hospital wing. If something goes wrong with me in the middle of the night, it'll be easier to make it to the infirmary." Without waiting for an answer, he flopped backward onto the bed with a theatrical thud. As if on cue, Jugemu swooped in and rolled alongside him, shedding a few feathers across the freshly claimed territory. Mind or not, the bed was his now — first come, first served was the universal law of bunk selection. Taking a closer look at his roommates, he realized one of them was the blonde-haired unfortunate who'd been on the receiving end of Aurelia's verbal onslaught. So this poor soul would be sharing their cabin? Mamori mentally extended his earlier moment of silence to a full six seconds. After the first bed-claimer (name still pending) collected his things and left the room, Mamori hauled himself upright and began extracting items from his Mokeskin backpack. He'd pulled out a couple of shirts when his fingers brushed against something with a distinctive plastic texture. "Oh right, I brought this," he muttered, yanking with considerable effort until a body-pillow-sized object emerged — except it wasn't a body pillow at all. It was, inexplicably, a family-sized — no, feed-your-entire-neighborhood sized — bag of marshmallows. Absolutely massive. How had this monstrosity ended up in his possession, let alone his bag? The short version: that weird grandma of his had sent it as a get-well gift during his hospital wing stay. He still couldn't figure out how she'd managed the delivery — something involving a coordinated effort from about ten owls, according to witnesses. The spectacle had apparently been quite impressive, if logistically nightmarish. Having no better solution, he'd stuffed the ridiculous thing into his backpack. "Blimey, heavier than I remembered," he grunted, dragging the massive bag out to the living room. Once there, he called out to anyone within earshot, "Guys! Anyone fancy some marshmallows?"

|

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────────

The windows were massive. They stretched from floor to ceiling and showed the lush, flourishing forest that the cabins were trapped within. The curtains were definitely not going to be able to block all the sunlight, and if anyone forgot to draw the curtains when they left or went to sleep, then anyone could peek into the cabins very easily. Obviously a design meant to be impressive, not practical.

Inside the bedroom, Jan claimed a bottom bunk with a “Dibs this!” and was followed by the pink-haired Mamori throwing himself and his belongings upon the remaining bottom bunk bed, as if scared someone else would take it. Maybe Saunders could have, but Ameko preferred heights.

“Y’all don’t mind if I take this one, right?” he asked Ameko and Saunders, his large turquoise eyes blinking twice in an effort to seem innocent. With that face, Ameko was sure that he could commit genocide and still get away with it. People could probably watch him disembowel a crowd of humans and still say that he did nothing wrong. ‘Tis the abilities of a presence that was bigger than life and loved by all. “I’m fresh out of the hospital wing. If something goes wrong with me in the middle of the night, it’ll be easier to make it to the infirmary.” Then he flopped down onto the bed, an owl rolling on top of the covers along with him.

That was sound logic. Ameko would rather not have to assist him down and accidentally cause a worse injury, then be blamed for it.

Wait…

Was this the pink-haired menace who was one of the few that got into a coma with the Hufflepuff’s Potions Incident? How did Ameko not realise? How many pink-haired Hufflepuff first years were there?

What an idiot. Both him and Mamori.

Climbing up the ladder to the bunk above Mamori’s, Ameko gave Saunders a polite bow of his head and no decision. It was his fault for not moving fast enough. Ameko put his things at the far corner of the bed, quickly moving and rearranging the things he’d need first to the top for convenience. This Valentine’s trip was bound to be interesting, especially with the mix of all these people, but he had no doubt that something not-so-good would happen eventually. It came with mixing a whole bunch of children together in the same space. Knock on wood.

Then -

A crinkly crunchy sound of a plastic bag. It lasted for ten to twenty seconds, then from below Ameko: “Oh, right, I brought this.”

There was a practically human-sized plastic bag of teeth-rotting, chewy-soft pillows of sugar. Ameko had no words to describe the absolute horror that could be produced from the minds of insane mortals. And Mamori had brought this monstrosity with him? What, the moron had failed to die by potions, so now he was going to do so by marshmallows?

Why are you testing the limits of your mortality?

There was more crispy and grating noise, then over the edge of the bed, Ameko observed the boy dragging his massive backpack - with the thing still poking out of the opening - into the living room. Ameko leapt off the bunk and landed smoothly, traipsing to where Mamori was grumbling something.

“Blimey, heavier than I remembered.” Well, it wasn’t as if anyone had forced him to take that bag of chemical foam here. Mamori finally got to the living room, yelling, “Guys! Anyone fancy some marshmallows?”

Leaning on the doorframe to their bedroom, Ameko internally rolled his grey eyes whilst pertaining his stoic face, muttering, “More like the sweet temptations of a sickly death. Tch, trying to kill us all so you can have the entire cabin to yourself?”

Very quietly, of course. No one would hear him.

@Aurelia Valentine@, @Janosch Dehoff, @Ruth Fairchild, @Ira Thornfield, @Mamori Anezaki, @Pamela Graham, @Saunders Napier

Banner done by lovely @Aurelia Valentine

@Janosch Dehoff | @Pamela Graham | @Mamori Anezaki | @Ira Thornfield | @Saunders Napier | @Aurelia Valentine | @Ameko Minatozaki

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────────

BEAUXBÂTONS
2025-02-12
@Ruth Fairchild, @Janosch Dehoff, @Pamela Graham, @Ira Thornfield, @Saunders Napier, @Aurelia Valentine, @Ameko Minatozaki

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────────

|

After emptying what felt like enough marshmallows to build a small fort into the serving bowl he'd liberated from their cabin's kitchen, Mamori stared in mild horror at the bag that remained stubbornly seven-eighths full. At this rate, they'd be finding the things in every corner until checkout day, and the mere sight of anything white and puffy would trigger their gag reflex by day three. A familiar voice behind him raised the perfectly reasonable question of how he'd managed such a feat of storage. Mamori secured the torn opening with a quick knot before turning to Ruth with his best deadpan expression. "Me? Oh, I just casually smuggled a portkey in my bag. Made a quick trip back to my room while everyone wasn't looking, grabbed the stuff, then portkeyed right back here," that straight face didn't last long before he broke into a giggle. "Kidding, obviously. Mokeskin products — bottomless storage and thief-proof. Worth every galleon." Someone in the mokeskin business better be sending him some pocket money for that free advertising. Ruth's first suggestion earned an approving nod and thumbs up from Mamori. Their marshmallow crisis needed creative disposal methods, and with crackers already in play, surely someone would step up with chocolate. Or at least know how to acquire some through possibly questionable means. Her next bright idea, however, was where he had to draw the line. Because what better way to experience a new place than to sit indoors drinking leaf water when every last corner of the grounds sat unexplored? His experience with proper travel might have been non-existent, but even he could spot the flaw in that logic. "Ah wait, maybe not just yet," Mamori interjected, definitely not stalling for time. "Aren't we perhaps neglecting a small but rather fundamental social custom here? Like, oh, I don't know... introductions? Because I only know about half of you." Three people including himself made half, but mathematical precision wasn't the point here. What mattered was that every other face in the room belonged to someone whose name was lost somewhere between the sorting ceremony and his brain deciding that facial recognition was overrated. "Unless everyone's already done the whole name exchange while I was busy being unconscious," he scanned the room before clutching his chest in mock betrayal. "How very inclusive of you all." Through his interactions with peers (not specifically targeting anyone named Gemini), Mamori had learned that sometimes you just had to be direct. Otherwise certain individuals would contentedly emanate their unique frequency of social obliviousness, never bothering with basic introductions, only to later ponder why no one knew who they were after a week of being cabin mates. What was that thing that Ravenclaw girl suggested during Halloween? Right — "How about an icebreaker?" Credit where credit's due, that was a solid idea worth stealing. "Name, house, and one or two random facts. Bonus points if they’re weird enough to make us remember you. We'll go around in a circle, starting with yours truly." Not that he had any idea what made an icebreaker different from any other get-to-know-you game, but the term had a nice ring to it. Clearing his throat with unnecessary ceremony, he continued, "Mamori Anezaki, first-year Hufflepuff, interests include...eh, never mind." A vague wave was given as his torrid love affair with money, flying, and illegal magical creature feeding operations went conveniently unmentioned. "The owl currently passed out on my bed is Jugemu — he's got a longer name but Jugemu stuck because, well, effort. Looks adorable but actually quite vicious and will bite, so keep your distance unless you've brought tribute in the form of owl treats." He jabbed a thumb sideways. "Next in line." OOC Note: sorry for being uncreative but trying my best to push the scene forward i'm keeping it vague who's next to him so literally anyone can jump in!!

|

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────────

It was an understatement that Ameko was used to being left out. It was more than expected - just like how people knew that they were breathing, like when someone knew they were hungry, when they were thinking (whether or not their thoughts were intelligent and counted as actual ‘thinking’ did not matter) - Ameko knew that it was a fact of life that he would be ignored. He was an insignificant blade of grass in a meadow of infinite kaleidoscopic flowers. You knew the green carpet adorning the field was there, hidden beneath the forest of colour that they grew upon, but with everything else you could - should - see, why would you be interested in that single, inconsiderable leaf? It wouldn’t even cross your mind, too focussed on the multichromatic work of art instead of the plain, indistinctive wall it hung on.

So why had Aurelia Valentine been staring at him like you would with a pinned insect collectable? Directly at his mouth, too, like she had been able to see what he was saying by reading his lips. What if she had? He’d have to keep his thoughts inside of his head for now; the Hufflepuff girl was much too observant. Aurelia didn’t seem like one of those weirdos who fancied themselves saviours of the ‘loners’ and ‘rejects’ of society, so at least there was one thing Ameko didn’t need to be worried about.

However. The raven-haired boy hadn’t had a reason to dislike Ruth or Mamori before, but now they were moving down the scale of his people-gauge. Marshmallows, campfires, tea parties… so much work, and what for? What good thing would come out of all this? He couldn’t really hate or fault them for it, though. They were all just eleven to twelve-year-olds. Those kids were bound to have extreme lapses in judgement.

Even worse: Ameko couldn’t have objected to the ideas in the first place; everyone was already moving, some even excited to be bossed around as they went to do their jobs in preparation for the sugar crash.

This was how he found himself playing an ‘icebreaker’ game with the rest of them. Mamori - Ameko wondered if he was the main character of this group in the world, since he was a very eye-catching embodiment of human bubblegum - went first.

And it was just his luck that Ameko was next to him, the thumb of judgement pointing in his direction. He sighed internally. Might as well get this over with.

“Ameko Minatozaki, first-year Ravenclaw.” What facts about him were ‘random’ and ‘weird’, but not downright bizarre? Well, either way, it shouldn’t matter. No one would remember him anyway. Generic answer it is. “I like reading and writing.”

A safe, normal answer.

@Aurelia Valentine@, @Janosch Dehoff, @Ruth Fairchild, @Ira Thornfield, @Mamori Anezaki, @Pamela Graham, @Saunders Napier

Date: 12th Feb, 2025

Location: Great Lake

Interactions: @Ruth Fairchild @Ira Thornfield @Aurelia Valentine @Mamori Anezaki @Janosch Dehoff @Saunders Napier '@Ameko Minatozaki

⋆⁺₊❅.⋆꙳•❅*• •*❆ ₊⋆⋆꙳•❅*• •*❆ ₊⋆⋆⁺₊❅.

Speech -- Thoughts

Pam's attempt to throw herself onto her bed failed as her owl got there first, shaking feathers all over her blanket, and Pam found herself gaping for a good two minutes, mortified. "What the.... Lumi, we just got here!" She groaned as she horded the only available other bed in the room which wasn't already taken, Ira's. I'm sorry, just for two minutes I swear. Shutting her eyes, she let her body recharge, specifically to get over the horrifying experience called a portkey.

Then she heard someone say marshmallows.

Pam was out of her bed before the word had really registered in her brain, and she followed Aurelia and Ruth out of the room, and into the boys' next door. "Who said marshmallows?" she asked hopefully, before her eyes landed on the larger-than-a-pillow sized bag of the colored sugar and she found herself at a loss for words for the second time in five minutes. "You brought that....in that trunk?" she asked the pink haired boy in utter confusion, before addressing the room in general, "Is there a spell for that which I missed....?"

Pam narrowed her eyes at the suggestion of an ice-breaker and couldn't help but mutter, "Sounds like roll call.." She went with it anyway, holding up her hand in a wave, "Hello, I'm Pamela Graham, first year Hufflepuff. I mostly go by Pam though." She glanced at Mamori's owl, and said with a grin, "Well I've got an owl too, her name's Lumi. She is far from friendly and is way too judgy so please don't come to me if you get bitten, I'm not taking responsibility. She's currently claimed my bed with white feathers so...yeah." Weird points...? Something which doesn't fully make me into a sociopath... "I like to read too, a lot. On that note, I've read too many thrillers and murder mysteries so if I'm silent, I'm either plotting someone's death or questioning my existence." Do I sound crazy? Should be good, right?

⋆⁺₊❅.⋆꙳•❅*• •*❆ ₊⋆⋆꙳•❅*• •*❆ ₊⋆⋆⁺₊❅.

Banner done by lovely @Aurelia Valentine

@Janosch Dehoff | @Pamela Graham | @Mamori Anezaki | @Ira Thornfield | @Saunders Napier | @Aurelia Valentine | @Ameko Minatozaki