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@Evelynn Decipio

Date: June 7th, 2025	Speech | Thoughts
Time: Late Morning	Interacting with: @Lyssandra Amaranth Navarus
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Oliver hadn't giving his sexuality any thought at all, not one little thing. He didn't think it mattered currently, had other things to think about rather then his sexuality. And any love life, if and when he would have it. He hardly liked many people as friends, let alone in any romantic ways. Oliver hated most of the people that he talked to. So why would he see them in any other way then disliked? Clearly there wasn't any reason.

Despite this, Oliver didn't hate gay people. If he did, it wasn't because they were gay. It was always some other reason, and he didn't know they were gay. Be it they breathed to loud, talked to him to much, asked him for things to many times, There name was @Aodhan Shaw claimed they were friends, called him nicknames, thought they were better then him but they weren't, thought they were better then him and they were, because they were muggle born, they were named Aodhan, they saw him cry. There last name was Shaw. Really the reasons were endless. Not one of them was because they were in any way queer.

In fact, one of only people Oliver liked, one of the only he could say he was a friend and not want to obliviate himself afterwards. Was queer, at least he thought so. In reality it was a silly misunderstanding. @Cirrus Nam had called Oliver 'luv' a few times, and now that had led the Slytherin to the conclusion that Cirrus had a crush on him. Naturally of course. What else would be the reason? Tl;Dr was Oliver thought Cirrus had a crush on him. And because both of them were boys, Oliver thought Cirrus was queer.

And didn't mind it at all. The crush maybe, because Oliver liked him as a friend in a very friendly way, he didn't want that to end because of a silly crush that would no doubt go away. Because Oliver didn't feel the same. Whatever. Oliver liked him, and Cirrus was nice. And there was an errand about pride. So Oliver was coming, as he heard there were arts and crafts. And Oliver liked arts, and he liked crafts. That had been what led him to the courtyard today.

When he walked out to it, he almost made a full 180, and walked out. There were people. Naturally of course, why wouldn't there be? He had expected that, he wasn't clueless. But there was more then he thought there would be. He took a deep breath, "your already hear Oliver.. make the best of it." He whispered to himself, walking up to the craft table, there were lots of supplies. More then he would have thought, he raised an eyebrow. Silently impressed by the spread. His hand twitched to what he knew, paint and a canvas for it. But he bit his lip and held back.

If he wanted to be good at art, he should at least have a decent enough understanding of other forms of it. Watercolor was his beloved, he went to it just about every time. There was a charm with acrylics as well, chalk pastel was ok enough. But he wasn't sure Oliver wanted any of that. Maybe water color. But he wanted a challenge. Something that would make him stand out, ish. If it sparked a conversation he didn't want it. Color pencils were off the table. Those took some skill, And people would look over his shoulder.

People who used that knew what they were doing. He sighed, and something caught his attention out of the corner of his eye. A box of crayons. Oliver grabbed it before anyone had any chance of thinking about grabbing it. His. He wanted a challenge, He didn't want to talk to people, and he wanted his art to be better then anyone's. Crayons were perfect. They were childish, so no one would look at him using them. Thinking that he didn't know what he was doing, because they were childish, Oliver felt it may take some time and thought to make something good. And because of that, once he did make something good, with crayons. Everyone would know Oliver was the best one there.

Perfect. He grabbed some paper as well, then the hard part. Finding a place to sit. Somewhere he wouldn't be annoyed, and by someone not annoying. He walked around looking at the faces. Sneering at a few people as he walked past. Then he saw her, Alyss, he thought her name was. She may have been in his house to? But he didn't know. He'd seen her at a party once. But hey, he'd seen her. And he had a thought about her name. So he walked up to the girl on the pink beanbag, and sat in a red one adjacent to it. "Hello there," He said, starting to do some bare bones work on the paper with green. Looking up at her. Of course she would be impressed once he was done with his crayon art. Why wouldn't she? if not, well, Oliver could add her to the growing list of people he didn't like. "I'm Oliver."

OUTFIT & INVENTORY Reducio here

OOC NOTE & STATS/ABILITIES Reducio Fearless - Oliver does not scare easily, not effected by terrible presence or unsettling aura { Stamina: 7 }{ Evasion: 5 }{ Strength: 10 }{ Wisdom: 3 }{ Arcane Power: 2 }{ Accuracy: 8 }

Interacting : @Alyss Gilmour |||| @n/a : Mentioning

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Lyssandra considers his words carefully as she moves back to sit on her beanbag.

“I understand what you mean.” She takes up her drawing and gives it a look.

“It was odd to me how much stigma and barbarism happened before things finally took a turn. In my family…” Lips pressed, she glances at Luca as though gauging his reaction to what she was about to say.

“Well, our House is… shall we say odd. So romance between those of the same or other gender and/or identities didn’t really faze us. Growing up, I always thought that it was normal. Or, at the very least, understood.” Picking up her a pencil, she adds a few more details to the amorphous figure—empasizhing its being of non-entity.

It was odd.

Had she been told that her Cousin Dion and his husband Carolus’relationship was considered unlawful and taboo, it would be an outrage. Some things were just not fair nor kind to others, Lyssandra frowns.

With a spare quill and some ink, she signs her work with her initials and rose from her bean bag with a satisfied nod. Lyssandra hands in her work and returns her borrowed materials to the organizer and walks back to Luca.

“Very well. I’m done with my work. I think I’ll accompany you, for now. By the way, how would you like to be addressed?" Lyssandra offers him her hand with a smile.

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Word Count Reducio 229

Legend "Speech" 'Thoughts'

Date: June 7th, 2025	Speech | Thoughts
Time: Late Morning	Interacting with: @Lyssandra Amaranth Navarus
« Preceding | Following »

His story continues: Hogwarts Got Talent

ℬrookline nodded simply as the older year spoke about the meaning of panromantic and how she didn’t know what the flag colors meant. “Ahhh, that makes lots more sense. I didn’t know about panromantic or pansexual? Do - does it mean the same thing? Or are they just similar terms?” She was a bit confused but it would all right.

"Well, I mean, I... I'm probably not the best person to ask." The older student stated, looking a bit confused. Brookline just smiled a little, her cheeks hurting in the slightest bit, and added, “It’s okay. I don’t mind if you don’t know much about the community.” Mentally cursing herself, she glanced down, looking at her shoes, “I was just curious and wondered if you would know.” The Ravenclaw gazed back up, and did a little shrug.

But Mahlioz (Brookline doesn’t their name yet), was determined shed at least some knowledge. She started off by stating they weren’t an expert on the LGBTQ+ community, especially not knowing much of the history. Brookline started, “It’s fine! I’d just like to learn...” And never got to finish when the third year said they would love to help Brookline learn about the community and that they knew some of the terms and the flags. The Welsh pure-blood nodded, becoming quite a bit interested.

Starting with a simple question, that she was sure wasn’t going to confuse or make the older year uncomfortable with her many questions, she asked, “Would you happen to know how many flags there is? The question just popped in my mind, and if you don’t know the terms for those flags, that’s okay! I’d just like to know a fee terms, just to learn a little bit.”

Then, soon, a older girl, with pretty red curly hair (Evelynn) came along and Brookline was pretty sure the older year was a sixth year, same as Peri and Dee. The girl had spoken quietly to the older year, a little good afternoon, and the Ravenclaw finally got the third year’s name! Then the sixth year gave a greeting to her as well. Brookline dipped her head again, almost seeming a bit excited to be in the somewhat comforting presence of the sixth year. “Good afternoon!” She had replied, and then her eyes started gazing around the room.

Brookline noticed the upbringing in the two students’ conversation, and was ready to escape and walk to her dormroom when two more questions popped in her head. She decided to stay a little longer.

ooc notes:

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She meets his eyes with a certain gaze that Lyssandra hoped was not too judgemental as she carefully considers his words. It was when he continued that she found herself giving him a satisfied nod.

The thing that happened after he finished speaking, however, impressed Lyssandra.

It was a new age, therefore certain practices have long since gone or perhaps are only upheld for tradition’s sake. Lyssandra’s stance on decorum and perfecting her etiquette was more of a personal thing. She liked the elegance it poses so she can’t help but admire whenever she is met with someone with impeccable grace and decorum.

As an heiress, she is taught what is required of her to present herself as a proper heiress but it does not mean that she was made to act like a perfect little doll. In fact, she was fortunate that House Navarus does not expect perfection from her in every aspect. Thus, Lyssandra does not expect others to follow etiquette to a T.

So, when she offered her hand to Luca, she had expected a firm shake. As he took her hand in his and gave her knuckle a kiss, she was pleasantly surprised and simultaneously amused.

“A pleasure to be with your acquaintance, Luca.” Lyssandra takes her position by his side and takes his arm.

“You may call me Lyssandra,” She looks forward to what their destinations holds and can’t help a smile.

“Lead the way."

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Word Count Reducio 239

Legend "Speech" 'Thoughts'

Interacting with : Reducio open to any and all interactions!

Date: Reducio June 7

Notes: Reducio Speech: #3CB371 Thoughts: italics

Outfit: Reducio

After marching in the pride parade, Kaitlyn skipped toward the rest of the pride events. Noticing the Pages and Paints section, she made a dash over to the area. There were plenty of other students there already … likely some lesbians like her, other orientations, and allies for the LGBTQIA+ community. It will always make her feel warm and supported to see so many other students come out for a just cause. It was even better to see those same students enjoy themselves and have fun. That was the whole point of these events.

After the parade, however, Kaitlyn’s social battery was already feeling a little drained. So, she fell into one of her usual habits … falling quiet. Not completely shy like she was last year, just that she felt a little tired from the social interactions from before. Her blue eyes spotted a few classmates that she knew, but she decided not to get involved in other people’s conversations.

Heading to the supply area, Kaitlyn’s eyes widened at the sewing and stitching supplies. ‘Huh. I’ve always wanted to try those … eh, but I’m not feeling like it right now … I think I’ll paint,’ she decided, while spinning on the toes of her sandals. She skipped to the paint supplies and picked out a mixture of paints and a canvas.

Sitting comfortably, Kaitlyn began to paint … slowly at first. The very first thing she painted was the lesbian pride flag for Pride Day, as she slowly hummed. She didn’t know what she wanted to incorporate just yet, so she quietly worked to make an awesome flag.

Word Count:

Reducio

Note: 270 words

Credit to Sienna Lenoir for my awesome banner!

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Emma was torn. She had woken up not feeling all that amazing, mainly just feeling a bit run down. It happened occasionally and was something she was used to. But it also was the day that the pride festivities were taking place. She had really wanted to attend, even if it was only the one event rather than the whole thing, but she didn’t know if she wanted to when she was feeling this way. Honestly, she’d prefer to just chill in the common room, in an out of the way armchair. But that being said, it was a once-a-year event (or at least she was only aware that it tended to happen once a year). So, in the end she had decided to suck it up. One of the events she knew because she had planned to attend that one for sure was the book and crafts area. Since she didn’t feel up to the other events (or at least not at the moment) Emma figured she could attend the Craft and Book area, find a quiet space to read any of the books that they might have and then engage if she felt like it. And then if she felt like it or needed a bite she could head to where the BBQ was held. Or at least that was what she told herself.

Grabbing the first things she touched, Emma tossed on a light, short-sleeved bluish shirt, some brown capris and wrapped a light sweater around her waist. Leaving her hair down, not feeling like adding to how she was feeling by courting a headache if a ponytail was too tight, she exited the common room and made her way out to the courtyard. It wasn’t super crowded but there were definitely people around. Looking down, she did her best to avoid anyone’s eyes, knowing if she made eye contact that was more likely to invite conversation. Though admittedly it didn’t always work on extroverts, but hopefully most read the signal.

Emma carefully considered the options they had available, which was more than she had thought there would be. But admittedly other than some of the things she had picked up first at muggle school and then here at Hogwarts, she was a bit clueless about LGTBQ or pride itself. It wouldn’t hurt to learn more, and maybe it would take her out of the funk she was in. It wasn’t a guarantee, but it would allow her to stay out of the way of others for the moment.

Looking around, she saw someone who looked like they knew what was going on near the bookstall. “Excuse me? Do we return the books here, or are they meant to be taken and not returned?” Emma, ever the rule follower, just wanted to clarify around the concept, as sometimes it seemed that they were meant to be borrowed and other times they could be taken. Mylo answered, basically telling her that they needed to be returned. “Okay, thank you. I appreciate it!” Emma did her best to come across as upbeat and excited because she didn’t want to discourage them or come across as disappointed or uninterested. Admittedly she might have been overthinking the whole interaction but that was what she did, so she wasn’t really surprised at the thoughts that went through her head anymore.

Again, returning her view to the books in front of her, she picked two or three and read the blurbs on the back. Finding a non-fiction one that seemed to have an interest blurb and be a bit of the history of the LGTBQ and Pride itself, she took a moment to read the first few pages. It might have seemed overboard but when she sat down, she didn’t want to have to get up for a little bit. She had been disappointed by books whose blurbs had been very interesting but then she couldn’t get into the book itself. Sometimes it was just the style of writing, or sometimes she just wasn’t in the mood for that particular genre. She tried not to force herself to read, because then she found reasons to avoid reading just because she didn’t want to read the book she had. Emma knew she could just put it back, but it was hard to do that when she had already spent an hour or two reading it and was more than a quarter into it.

But this book seemed like it would be a good fit. Making her way over to a beanbag in the far corner, she turned around, and didn’t say throw herself down, but she definitely didn’t carefully sit either. It was more of a plop. Squirming her body slightly, Emma found a position she was comfortable in, with her legs folded to the side, and her arms close to her body. Her head rested on the back of the beanbag chair and was slightly tilted so she had to hold the book at a slight angle. Opening to the first page, she jumped right in, silently reading the words aloud in her head.


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banner by Pericles Dralt| interacting as Archer Duncan

Archer watched with inquisitiveness as the boy furrowed his brows at the word, pondering over it in a way that suggested he was not quite certain of himself either. It seemed odd why anyone would not support queer people, even if that word sounded uncanny, almost derogatory to his ears. After all though it was not anyone else’s place to care who liked whom and which gender someone identified at, but, mind snapping back to his very first interactions with Campbell, prejudices existed everywhere Man stepped foot. He had apologised enough times for that particular incident, and perhaps he ought to have said more if only for the sake of closure. He gritted his teeth at the thought, and soon he hurried to divert the subject back to Pride Month. “And that means you identify as straight?”

As Cassian pointed to the extra button his eyes swept over the words and symbols. The world and self-identification for that matter seemed to have been moving so fast while he stood caught fast in place, a bird snagged on a branch that even the strongest of winds could not dislodge. While he would readily give the movement celebrating diversity his support, he had no idea what role he played in it all, if any at all. He experienced no dysphoria, nor any attraction to peers of the same sex, nor any to peers of any different or opposite sex either. As far as he could care the entire notion was overwhelming when applied onto himself and he could find better things to do with his time than ponder over yet another factor when he already had enough identity crises. Perhaps “ally” was just the safest word he could label himself as right now.

Archer took the adornment curiously but with a nod, hands almost cautious as if it were a button to induce nuclear warfare rather than a common bottle cap. Skipping over gratitude in a manner that would not have only been deemed uncouth but also quite unlike of him, his only acknowledgement of the sign was to quietly pin it to his lapel, which, being the strong fabric that it was and not some arbitrary suit, fought against the tip, but eventually relented as he gave it a push. It felt right to give himself a defining word, even if lexicographers might have disagreed with how well it did its job. At least it made him feel less isolated.

Taking his hand Archer grasped onto his fingers hard and shook, force too little to suggest care yet grip strong enough to recreate some semblance of intimidation. A question posed out of pure curiosity, he had seen Cassian more as a means to an answer than anyone he would want to keep around for the sentimentalities of company. “Archer,” he said returning the favour, and not bothering to display the rest of his name as he would have once had for the sake of empty formalities. “Second year, Slytherin. Duellist, I work on the Headliner as well.” He tipped his head up slightly at the last few words, as if they gave him more worth when attached.

Offering one of the two books with his free hand, Archer slid Carmilla before him. Arts and crafts, after all, seemed to be quite the bore. “Even if your badges are of questionable quality, does literature interest you?”