Through the Tower Door…
The sun filtered gently from the few windows within the tower onto the young Slytherin as she made her way up toward the caretaker’s office. It was late in the afternoon, just before dinner would begin.
Ava likely should have been studying to ensure that she would pass the year, but another topic had piqued her interest. Or rather, a person. There had certainly been talk of all of the new professors and staff members, but that didn’t mean that everything that was said was true. However, if this was true it would certainly brighten her life just a little more.
The rumor was that the new caretaker was a metamorphmagus, much like Ava herself was. Although on Ava’s side, her talent was more often used for troublemaking and entertainment, especially because she hardly understood the ability. In many cases, her abilities caused more harm than good. Maybe the reason she struggled so much in school was because her focus was always directed toward something else: keeping her hair and eyes from flashing wild shades that revealed how she really felt.
It wasn’t as though there was someone she could ask about it, rather all she could do was practice in her limited free time. It would be…nice to have someone who understood. Ava knew that there were other metamorphmagi within the school, but none that Ava was willing to pursue. If the interaction resulted in her vulnerability, well, that was her worst fear.
As Ava continued to climb, she nervously paused in front of the door. There were few times within this school that she had knocked rather than just entering wildly. She felt extremely out of character, or maybe she was just feeling exposed. She took a steadying breath as her hand hovered just a bit from the door, a quiver going through her body. For a moment, her hair turned a shade just between blue and green. She took one more moment to compose herself, pasting a grin on her face and focusing some attention to keep her hair its normal color, although her eyes revealed her true feelings.
As she moved her fist toward the door, she wondered if her reputation would have preceded her. Would the new caretaker turn her down based on the wide range of stories that seemed to float around the castle?
Knock. Knock. Knock.
@Avery Phineas Finch
Through the Tower Door…
Appearance: 5'9. Wavy, dark green hair, bright green eyes. Thin and lean.
Date: June 25, 2025 | Time: Pre-dinner | WC: 374
Language: English - Spanish - French
Interacting with: @Ava Winchect | Mentioning:
Mr. Finch speaks with a light Spanish-British accent.
Date: June 25, 2025 | Time: Pre-dinner | WC: 374
Language: English - Spanish - French
Interacting with: @Ava Winchect | Mentioning:
Mr. Finch speaks with a light Spanish-British accent.
After the knock on the door, the bear upon it called out, "COMING!", just loud enough to be heard, but probably loud enough to startle anyone who wasn't expecting the ornament to talk. A few moments afterward, the caretaker's flop of curly, dark green hair could be spotting trotting up the stairs, then rest of his body following to come up on the landing that held his office. The rather young caretaker wore a white to green gradient robe that came just short of brushing the ground and didn't do anything to hide his black converse sneakers.
"Ah. Hello, there." He said with a wide grin at the sight of the girl. She seemed fourteen-ish and as he observed her, her nervousness, and caught a glimpse of her blue-green eyes he could tell she was a metamorph like himself. Even if he noticed, he didn't usually comment on those things unless someone else brought it up. His family had taught him very strictly that revealing another metamorphmagus was rude. "I suppose since you are knocking on my door, you already know who I am, but you can call me Mr. Finch. How may I help you?" He asked brightly, moving to open the door and invite the girl into his office.
If the girl had any kind of reputation that had reached his ears, Avery probably wouldn't have remembered it anyway. He was terrible with names, including calling almost all of his co-workers simply Professor, Sir, or Miss, because he couldn't get their names straight, and, if they weren't interesting enough to pursue the truth about, he usually disregarded rumors about anyone immediately. He might recall a rumor he had heard as they were talking, but generally matched it up with the information in front of him before really believing it. He preferred to make his own mind up about people, especially since they usually hid their real selves away behind various self-made masks.
Although it was clearly locked before, the door granted Avery entry at his mere turn of the knob and he swung it wide open before the girl, giving a cheery, "Would you like some tea?" as he led her inside and over to the plush couches sitting before the fireplace.
Skilled Transfigure | Impartial | Mimic | Spell Spread | A.P.F. | Insight | Nonverbal | Major Shift | Wandless
ST: 15 | EV: 13 | STR: 11 | WI: 10 | ARC: 7 | ACC: 9
Student: EmmaLee L. | iNPC: Yasha V.
ST: 15 | EV: 13 | STR: 11 | WI: 10 | ARC: 7 | ACC: 9
Student: EmmaLee L. | iNPC: Yasha V.
Through the Tower Door…
Ava startled as the bear seemed to shout at her, and nervously tapped her foot as she waited. What would he think of her? What would she think of him? From behind her, she heard a man approach her.
He wasn’t what she had expected. A long green and white robe and…were those converse? As her gaze moved upwards, she was startled to discover his hair was a deep shade of green. Her eyes widened as she opened her mouth, unable to help herself. “Your hair! It’s green!”
Sure, Ava had seen many students with dyed hair, but never one of the staff members! He moved quickly and quietly, turning the knob to the door to invite her into his office. He seemed extremely cheery, a stark contrast to her nervousness. She slowly stepped into his office, following like a lost dog toward the couches near a fireplace.
"I suppose since you are knocking on my door, you already know who I am, but you can call me Mr. Finch. How may I help you?"
“Er–Mr. Finch–sir,” she stammered, trying to find the right words. She took a deep breath, composing herself. She hated talking about her vulnerabilities. At his offer for tea she seemed to consider for a long moment before nodding. The foul brew her grandmother had offered her would forever be engrained within her memory. “I heard that you were like me? A metamorphmagus?”
There wasn’t anything shameful about being a metamorphmagus, more so it was her embarrassment over her own lack of control on her ability. Too often she found her appearance betraying her true feelings, a reaction she hoped to remedy.
Ava bit her lip, squeezing her eyes tightly shut and clutching her hands together tightly. “I have no idea how my ability works even though I’m already a third year student and I want to learn!”
The statement came out more like one continuous word as she nervously opened her eyes to gauge the caretaker’s reaction.
@Avery Phineas Finch