4 Sep 2025, 21:31
A Little Help Here?
date: 12th september 2025
time: afternoon/early evening
location: hogwarts grounds, scottish highlands
When one was a carver, a sculptor, a purveyor of the visual arts, there were only so many ways to take observation and mould it into a proper form in one's hands. Since arriving at Hogwarts, Livia had hardly touched a chisel or a hammer, and all the stone that had graced her was that of Hogwarts's ever-cold floors and walls. She had whittled away at a block of cedar her grandfather had sent her from his orchards in Kutaisi, ultimately ending up with a half-decent imitation of a swan's feather in her hands by the time she was finished. Perhaps greater in volume had been the wood chips left over, the dust sprinkled on her fingers.
Having decided a better approach was necessary, she arrived at the grounds with a determined glint in her emerald green eyes. She had hurried to change into some proper observational clothes—a plain, off-white shirt and dark beige trousers, paired with the closest thing to 'work boots' her parents had let her own. She had adjusted her chignon and put a small, olive green hat on her head, deciding that such a hat made her a true explorer. She left the castle with her heart pounding, but despite that, she did her utmost to ensure that each step she took made no extra noise. She walked heel-toe, heel-toe, with extra effort given to avoid any stray twigs or crunchy leaves.
Livia paused beneath a well-needled pine, resting in the dappled shade cast by its spindly branches, and she stretched. Then, she surveyed the surrounding area: where elsewhere in the grounds, even saplings could be rare, here, near the outskirts of the forest the professors dubbed as 'forbidden', conifers sprung ever upwards. Some appeared to lurch in the breeze, their branches bearing the weight of the whistling wind, but others, perhaps older, stood stronger, stiffer. Livia pressed her hand to one of them and gave it a small push, and her eyes narrowed when it did not move.
She tried the same with a skinnier tree—the rough bark of what she thought might be an ash tree scraped against the pads of her fingertips, leaving behind faint white lines when she pulled her hand away. The tree remained still. Her chin lifted, and she gazed at its upper branches, lifting one hand to shield her face from the blaring heat of the sun. Her eyes still scrunched, squinting, as she attempted to focus between scattered rays of Northern Scottish sunlight.
The lustrous endeavour of observation ended when Livia stepped backwards, took a deep breath, and placed both of her hands against the trunk of the larger tree. Her breath rattled out of her as she dug her fingers into creases in the bark, and she set one boot's sole against the base of the tree. She steadied herself, and then she slowly, painstakingly, lifted herself up. Her left hand found a low-hanging branch, which she seized with all of her might, and then her right hand found a slightly-higher branch, and then her other foot found a small crevice to use as a ledge. She lifted herself up again, and again, until her upper arms ached beyond reason with the effort they had expelled. Her right leg shook, although her foot now remained lodged in a nook in the bark, and she rested against the tree as much as she could. She took a shuddering inhale and swallowed to ignore the burning in her lungs. Finally, she swung one leg and then the other over a branch thick enough to support her weight, and she paused, straightening her posture so that she could better heave until she had caught her breath.
As her chest rose and fell, Livia glanced down and stared at her hands. Crumbs of bark had gotten beneath her fingernails, and she began to pick at them, occasionally dusting them off as one might do in a stage play. Slowly, her breathing became more regular, and she stared about her. Alone, surrounded by trees far taller and more powerful than anyone she knew, she had no qualms about the rest of the dirt on her. Clothes, skin and hair could be washed numerous times; an experience, however, could only occur once.
Sowly, she lifted her hat off of her head and set it on a twig jutting out from the branch that was her seat. It was with immense caution and care that she then placed her palms on the branch and scooted backwards until the branch hung in the crook behind her knee. She leaned backwards, doing her best to keep her hands on the branch, until the world had flipped its orientation. Now, the sky was the infinite ground beneath her; the leaf-strewn grass beneath her beckoned like a hiker's favourite ceiling. Her lips curved into a half-smile as her eyes tracked the movement of a furry squirrel beneath—or, perhaps, above—her.
The young girl remained in such a position, sometimes letting a stray gust of wind buffet her about, and occasionally adjusting her posture so she could breathe better, and so that blood would not rush to her head. Her heart pounded, and lifted her hands in front of her face, extending both index fingers and thumbs to mimic a 'camera', or otherwise a frame, in which she could better focus on the scene in front of her. All the while, locks of dark hair that had come loose swung about her like stray vines hanging from an otherwise organised trellis.
The squirrel beneath her continued to move, causing Livia to adjust her position until her knee nearly slipped. Her left hand flew upwards to grip the branch, and she hissed softly when, although she managed to right her legs, her hand came back towards her with a fresh scratch. However, now that she was better situated, she did her best to survey the upside-down world around her, pleased to see the inverted interplay of shadow and light, although she was disappointed to find that she had lost sight of the squirrel.
time: afternoon/early evening
location: hogwarts grounds, scottish highlands
roleplaying as livia machavariani
sta: 2 | eva: 10 | str: 0 | wis: 7 | arc: 8 | acc: 8
terrible presence
sta: 2 | eva: 10 | str: 0 | wis: 7 | arc: 8 | acc: 8
terrible presence
When one was a carver, a sculptor, a purveyor of the visual arts, there were only so many ways to take observation and mould it into a proper form in one's hands. Since arriving at Hogwarts, Livia had hardly touched a chisel or a hammer, and all the stone that had graced her was that of Hogwarts's ever-cold floors and walls. She had whittled away at a block of cedar her grandfather had sent her from his orchards in Kutaisi, ultimately ending up with a half-decent imitation of a swan's feather in her hands by the time she was finished. Perhaps greater in volume had been the wood chips left over, the dust sprinkled on her fingers.
Having decided a better approach was necessary, she arrived at the grounds with a determined glint in her emerald green eyes. She had hurried to change into some proper observational clothes—a plain, off-white shirt and dark beige trousers, paired with the closest thing to 'work boots' her parents had let her own. She had adjusted her chignon and put a small, olive green hat on her head, deciding that such a hat made her a true explorer. She left the castle with her heart pounding, but despite that, she did her utmost to ensure that each step she took made no extra noise. She walked heel-toe, heel-toe, with extra effort given to avoid any stray twigs or crunchy leaves.
Livia paused beneath a well-needled pine, resting in the dappled shade cast by its spindly branches, and she stretched. Then, she surveyed the surrounding area: where elsewhere in the grounds, even saplings could be rare, here, near the outskirts of the forest the professors dubbed as 'forbidden', conifers sprung ever upwards. Some appeared to lurch in the breeze, their branches bearing the weight of the whistling wind, but others, perhaps older, stood stronger, stiffer. Livia pressed her hand to one of them and gave it a small push, and her eyes narrowed when it did not move.
She tried the same with a skinnier tree—the rough bark of what she thought might be an ash tree scraped against the pads of her fingertips, leaving behind faint white lines when she pulled her hand away. The tree remained still. Her chin lifted, and she gazed at its upper branches, lifting one hand to shield her face from the blaring heat of the sun. Her eyes still scrunched, squinting, as she attempted to focus between scattered rays of Northern Scottish sunlight.
The lustrous endeavour of observation ended when Livia stepped backwards, took a deep breath, and placed both of her hands against the trunk of the larger tree. Her breath rattled out of her as she dug her fingers into creases in the bark, and she set one boot's sole against the base of the tree. She steadied herself, and then she slowly, painstakingly, lifted herself up. Her left hand found a low-hanging branch, which she seized with all of her might, and then her right hand found a slightly-higher branch, and then her other foot found a small crevice to use as a ledge. She lifted herself up again, and again, until her upper arms ached beyond reason with the effort they had expelled. Her right leg shook, although her foot now remained lodged in a nook in the bark, and she rested against the tree as much as she could. She took a shuddering inhale and swallowed to ignore the burning in her lungs. Finally, she swung one leg and then the other over a branch thick enough to support her weight, and she paused, straightening her posture so that she could better heave until she had caught her breath.
As her chest rose and fell, Livia glanced down and stared at her hands. Crumbs of bark had gotten beneath her fingernails, and she began to pick at them, occasionally dusting them off as one might do in a stage play. Slowly, her breathing became more regular, and she stared about her. Alone, surrounded by trees far taller and more powerful than anyone she knew, she had no qualms about the rest of the dirt on her. Clothes, skin and hair could be washed numerous times; an experience, however, could only occur once.
Sowly, she lifted her hat off of her head and set it on a twig jutting out from the branch that was her seat. It was with immense caution and care that she then placed her palms on the branch and scooted backwards until the branch hung in the crook behind her knee. She leaned backwards, doing her best to keep her hands on the branch, until the world had flipped its orientation. Now, the sky was the infinite ground beneath her; the leaf-strewn grass beneath her beckoned like a hiker's favourite ceiling. Her lips curved into a half-smile as her eyes tracked the movement of a furry squirrel beneath—or, perhaps, above—her.
The young girl remained in such a position, sometimes letting a stray gust of wind buffet her about, and occasionally adjusting her posture so she could breathe better, and so that blood would not rush to her head. Her heart pounded, and lifted her hands in front of her face, extending both index fingers and thumbs to mimic a 'camera', or otherwise a frame, in which she could better focus on the scene in front of her. All the while, locks of dark hair that had come loose swung about her like stray vines hanging from an otherwise organised trellis.
The squirrel beneath her continued to move, causing Livia to adjust her position until her knee nearly slipped. Her left hand flew upwards to grip the branch, and she hissed softly when, although she managed to right her legs, her hand came back towards her with a fresh scratch. However, now that she was better situated, she did her best to survey the upside-down world around her, pleased to see the inverted interplay of shadow and light, although she was disappointed to find that she had lost sight of the squirrel.
@dennis tumberton
| [staff] jessamine lancaster even you cannot conquer the sun. | marina alacrán [inpc] her hair is kinda wild and free. |
5 Sep 2025, 05:11
A Little Help Here?
Third year was shaping up to be his most dangerous yet. It started with a summer fraught with emotional turmoil. A majority of last year was spent running around with a group of friends that were no longer anywhere to be seen. Whether they were actively avoiding him, transferring, or just generally not interested, he never got a chance to ask. Perhaps it all had to do with his last minute decision to end things with a certain spicy Gryffindor, or it was all coincidence.
He definitely paid a price for whatever transgression he perpetrated as summer camp ended up being toastier than he would have liked. A chance run in with an asian girl left him looking at every other girl like they were about to torch him. As long as he could survive until the next semester, Dennis was certain he could turn his luck around - he always could!
Or that was the thought. First week of classes proved to be no better than his summer. He had been foolish enough to volunteer to demonstrate a spell in Transfiguration for the second year class after his. What the quite frankly intimidating professor forgot to tell him was that he wasn’t demonstrating casting but was the one being demonstrated on! If Dennis ever wondered what it would be like to be a bird, he got his chance and it still left him shivering with fear over the ordeal.
On this warm September evening, the Ravenclaw walked the path around the castle grounds pondering what rotten luck he’s had recently. Perhaps he needed to see if the Divination professor could help him figure out how to change things around or the Astronomy professor could identify which star he had upset…that was how that worked right?
The trail stopped suddenly and Dennis looked up from kicking around dust as he walked. He had meandered to the end of the forgotten forest. Why? He groaned - he had just been trying to figure out how to turn everything around and now he is facing the one place he wasn’t in the mood for that was certain to be trouble. He took out a small box (courtesy of @Alphonse Toussaint), jostling it until a cig poked out and putting it in his mouth. Surely he wouldn’t be getting caught all the way out here with no one around. He lit up and took a puff. A throaty growl rumbled softly in his throat as he scanned the tree line, his hands in his pockets.
Feeling calmer after a few drags his eyes fell on a fairly peculiar sight. There was a young girl in a tree hanging upside down. Didn’t she know it was dangerous playing so close to the forest? Surely she had a death wish. Well, Dennis was always the helpful sort. Hands in his pockets and cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth he strolled over. Cocking his head as if trying to match the girls angle, he greeted her, “Need some help there? Or trying to transfigure into a bat?”
It was quite impressive she managed to get her up so high up the tree. She was both young and slim but perhaps looking like you don’t weigh more than a feather had it’s advantages. The only problem was, if the girl ended up getting stuck because she looked like her arms were already quite noodle-y, Dennis wasn’t entirely sure he would be of much use. He just ended up standing there contorted leaning trying to meet her eyes, the cig slowly dwindling the embers in the glow of the evening matching the color of his hair.
He definitely paid a price for whatever transgression he perpetrated as summer camp ended up being toastier than he would have liked. A chance run in with an asian girl left him looking at every other girl like they were about to torch him. As long as he could survive until the next semester, Dennis was certain he could turn his luck around - he always could!
Or that was the thought. First week of classes proved to be no better than his summer. He had been foolish enough to volunteer to demonstrate a spell in Transfiguration for the second year class after his. What the quite frankly intimidating professor forgot to tell him was that he wasn’t demonstrating casting but was the one being demonstrated on! If Dennis ever wondered what it would be like to be a bird, he got his chance and it still left him shivering with fear over the ordeal.
On this warm September evening, the Ravenclaw walked the path around the castle grounds pondering what rotten luck he’s had recently. Perhaps he needed to see if the Divination professor could help him figure out how to change things around or the Astronomy professor could identify which star he had upset…that was how that worked right?
The trail stopped suddenly and Dennis looked up from kicking around dust as he walked. He had meandered to the end of the forgotten forest. Why? He groaned - he had just been trying to figure out how to turn everything around and now he is facing the one place he wasn’t in the mood for that was certain to be trouble. He took out a small box (courtesy of @Alphonse Toussaint), jostling it until a cig poked out and putting it in his mouth. Surely he wouldn’t be getting caught all the way out here with no one around. He lit up and took a puff. A throaty growl rumbled softly in his throat as he scanned the tree line, his hands in his pockets.
Feeling calmer after a few drags his eyes fell on a fairly peculiar sight. There was a young girl in a tree hanging upside down. Didn’t she know it was dangerous playing so close to the forest? Surely she had a death wish. Well, Dennis was always the helpful sort. Hands in his pockets and cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth he strolled over. Cocking his head as if trying to match the girls angle, he greeted her, “Need some help there? Or trying to transfigure into a bat?”
It was quite impressive she managed to get her up so high up the tree. She was both young and slim but perhaps looking like you don’t weigh more than a feather had it’s advantages. The only problem was, if the girl ended up getting stuck because she looked like her arms were already quite noodle-y, Dennis wasn’t entirely sure he would be of much use. He just ended up standing there contorted leaning trying to meet her eyes, the cig slowly dwindling the embers in the glow of the evening matching the color of his hair.
@Livia Machavariani
Adult: Makaio Kāne | iNPC: Maria Leung de Almeida
7 Sep 2025, 18:43
A Little Help Here?
date: 12th september 2025
time: afternoon/early evening
location: hogwarts grounds, scottish highlands
The atmosphere's first inclination towards change came in Livia's slow inhale of smoke-tinged air. Such a scent differed greatly from the previous hint of leaves and dirt that hung in the forest's tree-lined aether. The hanging girl surveyed her domain, but no fires blazed on the detritus-ceiling. She did, however, leave her eyes and ears open to further changes in the world around her, occasionally sniffing the air to see if the acrid aroma of smoke grew stronger.
The following harbinger of oscillation in the natural world came in the quiet crunching of shoes against the ground. Livia remained fully still, aside from closing her eyes to have a better chance at hearing the intruder. The footsteps drew closer, and the smokiness of the air intensified. Her head began to throb with the rhythm of her heartbeat, and she did her best to regulate her breathing to combat this. With the unusual smoke in the air, it grew difficult for her to inhale as deeply as she might have wished, but she still refused to sit up.
An unfamiliar voice interrupted the crunching of leaves and the whistling of the wind. Slowly, Livia's eyes opened, and she stared forward to see that she was nearly face-to-face with a person she could only assume was another Hogwarts student. The brightness of his hair matched the hue of what could have been a particularly well-stoked fire, which duly complemented the smoke in the air. She observed him first, her eyes narrowing as she analysed his features while still listening to his words. The contraption caught between his lips intrigued her; her gaze lingered where embers shined before slowly travelling upwards—or rather down, for her—to meet his eyes.
It was with a gentle rasp that she spoke: 'Help?' was all she began with. Livia slowly extended her arms to hang beneath her, stretching before crossing them over her chest. 'I do assure you, this entire predicament was, in fact, intentional.' She took longer to answer his other question, opting to pause for a few quick breaths before adding, 'And, no, it was not for the express purpose of transfiguring myself into a bat. However... what an interesting endeavour. I suppose that would be something to try in the future.'
No matter what he said or did next, she would remain relatively quiet, all too comfortable to watch, smell and listen, rather than fully interact. That the boy had acquired something to smoke with meant she would assume he was older than her—perhaps thirteen, fourteen, but certainly not older than that. She had not met him before, but given her newness to the school, that was certainly to be expected. He was hardly the worst of the people she had happened to encounter, after all.
Her irises flitted downwards—perhaps upwards to the boy—to check that her hat was still resting on the branch. After ascertaining that it had not moved, she returned her attention to the boy, but moved her head slightly while doing so. The sudden relocation of her centre of balance caused one of her legs to slip; she suppressed a yelp, and by a rather insane feat, considering her lack of athleticism, managed to hook her foot beneath a smaller, nearby branch, to stabilise herself. Her upper body swung without control, much like a pendulum, until she began to slow to a stop.
Livia's breathing came quickly after the ordeal, and as she tried to calm herself, she made to look at the boy. She would have been incredibly surprised had he missed such a misstep on her end, so there was very little reason in denying even a bit of help now. 'Well... I suppose that just a bit of help would not be objectionable. Surely you've a wand on you?'
time: afternoon/early evening
location: hogwarts grounds, scottish highlands
roleplaying as livia machavariani
sta: 2 | eva: 10 | str: 0 | wis: 7 | arc: 8 | acc: 8
terrible presence
sta: 2 | eva: 10 | str: 0 | wis: 7 | arc: 8 | acc: 8
terrible presence
The atmosphere's first inclination towards change came in Livia's slow inhale of smoke-tinged air. Such a scent differed greatly from the previous hint of leaves and dirt that hung in the forest's tree-lined aether. The hanging girl surveyed her domain, but no fires blazed on the detritus-ceiling. She did, however, leave her eyes and ears open to further changes in the world around her, occasionally sniffing the air to see if the acrid aroma of smoke grew stronger.
The following harbinger of oscillation in the natural world came in the quiet crunching of shoes against the ground. Livia remained fully still, aside from closing her eyes to have a better chance at hearing the intruder. The footsteps drew closer, and the smokiness of the air intensified. Her head began to throb with the rhythm of her heartbeat, and she did her best to regulate her breathing to combat this. With the unusual smoke in the air, it grew difficult for her to inhale as deeply as she might have wished, but she still refused to sit up.
An unfamiliar voice interrupted the crunching of leaves and the whistling of the wind. Slowly, Livia's eyes opened, and she stared forward to see that she was nearly face-to-face with a person she could only assume was another Hogwarts student. The brightness of his hair matched the hue of what could have been a particularly well-stoked fire, which duly complemented the smoke in the air. She observed him first, her eyes narrowing as she analysed his features while still listening to his words. The contraption caught between his lips intrigued her; her gaze lingered where embers shined before slowly travelling upwards—or rather down, for her—to meet his eyes.
It was with a gentle rasp that she spoke: 'Help?' was all she began with. Livia slowly extended her arms to hang beneath her, stretching before crossing them over her chest. 'I do assure you, this entire predicament was, in fact, intentional.' She took longer to answer his other question, opting to pause for a few quick breaths before adding, 'And, no, it was not for the express purpose of transfiguring myself into a bat. However... what an interesting endeavour. I suppose that would be something to try in the future.'
No matter what he said or did next, she would remain relatively quiet, all too comfortable to watch, smell and listen, rather than fully interact. That the boy had acquired something to smoke with meant she would assume he was older than her—perhaps thirteen, fourteen, but certainly not older than that. She had not met him before, but given her newness to the school, that was certainly to be expected. He was hardly the worst of the people she had happened to encounter, after all.
Her irises flitted downwards—perhaps upwards to the boy—to check that her hat was still resting on the branch. After ascertaining that it had not moved, she returned her attention to the boy, but moved her head slightly while doing so. The sudden relocation of her centre of balance caused one of her legs to slip; she suppressed a yelp, and by a rather insane feat, considering her lack of athleticism, managed to hook her foot beneath a smaller, nearby branch, to stabilise herself. Her upper body swung without control, much like a pendulum, until she began to slow to a stop.
Livia's breathing came quickly after the ordeal, and as she tried to calm herself, she made to look at the boy. She would have been incredibly surprised had he missed such a misstep on her end, so there was very little reason in denying even a bit of help now. 'Well... I suppose that just a bit of help would not be objectionable. Surely you've a wand on you?'
@dennis tumberton
| [staff] jessamine lancaster even you cannot conquer the sun. | marina alacrán [inpc] her hair is kinda wild and free. |
8 Sep 2025, 15:05
A Little Help Here?
What was this girl? Dennis had never really met anyone quite like her. She was clearly stuck but instead of taking the offered helped seem to double down on her predicament claiming she was up there intentionally. He had no evidence to the contrary so he could only take her word for it. Taking the cigarette out of his mouth he blew smoke from the corner of his mouth as he watched. “Well you are certainly doing a great job of the bat thing. I’m sure you will be victorious in your quest.” Dennis gave her a half-hearted salute with the hand holding the cig and put it back in his mouth.
He obviously wasn’t needed and would leave bat lady to her rather peculiar exercise routine or whatever it was she was attempting to do. Even if it was just to observe some squirrel, he’d find that even more far-fetched than wanting to tern into a bat! He turned to leave, and about to bid her adieu when her leg slipped. On instinct, Dennis launched forward as if he were to catch her before she seemed to rescue herself by clinging onto a lower branch with the leg that lost its grip.
He snorted and couldn’t help but be amused at her current state of disorder. She finally admitted she needed help. Well well well. The precocious one finally wanted some assistance. The redhead crossed his arms and looked around to see if there was like…a stick? Or maybe like a pile of leaves he could make to cushion her fall. Failing to find anything suitable he took the cigarette, now a little stub, flicked it at his feet and stomped it lightly into the ground until the embers died. Blowing the last bit of smoke he shrugged, “I’d help but I don’t have a stick to poke you with.” Dennis said, obviously forgetting where he was and what he had on him. And why would poking her with a stick actually help her?
He obviously wasn’t needed and would leave bat lady to her rather peculiar exercise routine or whatever it was she was attempting to do. Even if it was just to observe some squirrel, he’d find that even more far-fetched than wanting to tern into a bat! He turned to leave, and about to bid her adieu when her leg slipped. On instinct, Dennis launched forward as if he were to catch her before she seemed to rescue herself by clinging onto a lower branch with the leg that lost its grip.
He snorted and couldn’t help but be amused at her current state of disorder. She finally admitted she needed help. Well well well. The precocious one finally wanted some assistance. The redhead crossed his arms and looked around to see if there was like…a stick? Or maybe like a pile of leaves he could make to cushion her fall. Failing to find anything suitable he took the cigarette, now a little stub, flicked it at his feet and stomped it lightly into the ground until the embers died. Blowing the last bit of smoke he shrugged, “I’d help but I don’t have a stick to poke you with.” Dennis said, obviously forgetting where he was and what he had on him. And why would poking her with a stick actually help her?
@Livia Machavariani
lol I spelt that on the first try!
Adult: Makaio Kāne | iNPC: Maria Leung de Almeida
9 Sep 2025, 16:26
A Little Help Here?
date: 12th september 2025
time: afternoon/early evening
location: hogwarts grounds, scottish highlands
The intruder's behaviour left Livia mildly confused. He seemed content to leave her as she was, but she had offered help, and when she had nearly fallen, she had not missed his attempt at helping. She kept her gaze on him as he crossed his arms, and although she fully expected him to just leave her, she was pleasantly surprised when he began searching for something. She stared, bewildered, and finally shook her head, except that caused a small pounding in her temple. She sighed. 'What, did you drop your wand?'
His next words only made Livia's features scrunch together in absolute obfuscation. 'I'm sorry?' she blurted, unable to stop herself. Even as she hung upside down, she wrapped her arms around her midsection, as if to shield her sides from an unwarranted poke. Her gaze flitted to the ground, where he was stepping on the smoke maker, and her frown deepened. 'You shouldn't litter.'
She waited to see if he was joking or serious about the poking, but after being able to ascertain nothing, she let out a sigh. 'You're not a first year, right?' Her tone remained largely flat despite her annoyance. 'So... you should know how to use a wand. You know. Spell-casting thing. Kind of stick-like, so you were on the right track.' She would have brandished her own, except she had left it in her dormitory, not wanting it to fall out of one of her pockets during her adventure. Now, she realised what a horrific choice that had been; her head ached rather astutely, and the initial wonder she'd held at the ground becoming the sky had slowly drained out of her as she slowly came to the understanding that, without assistance, she would not be doing much other than hanging in there.
'If you need a bit of advice... well, are you aware of some levitation spells?'
She certainly could not cast one herself, not without her wand, so no matter what the boy came up with, Livia would be privy to his whims for the time being. She continued to hang, and, slightly bored and afflicted with a mild ache of the skull, she began to swing back and forth once again, using the foot that was beneath the branch as a small 'anchor point' via which she could levy her weight.
time: afternoon/early evening
location: hogwarts grounds, scottish highlands
roleplaying as livia machavariani
sta: 2 | eva: 10 | str: 0 | wis: 7 | arc: 8 | acc: 8
terrible presence
sta: 2 | eva: 10 | str: 0 | wis: 7 | arc: 8 | acc: 8
terrible presence
The intruder's behaviour left Livia mildly confused. He seemed content to leave her as she was, but she had offered help, and when she had nearly fallen, she had not missed his attempt at helping. She kept her gaze on him as he crossed his arms, and although she fully expected him to just leave her, she was pleasantly surprised when he began searching for something. She stared, bewildered, and finally shook her head, except that caused a small pounding in her temple. She sighed. 'What, did you drop your wand?'
His next words only made Livia's features scrunch together in absolute obfuscation. 'I'm sorry?' she blurted, unable to stop herself. Even as she hung upside down, she wrapped her arms around her midsection, as if to shield her sides from an unwarranted poke. Her gaze flitted to the ground, where he was stepping on the smoke maker, and her frown deepened. 'You shouldn't litter.'
She waited to see if he was joking or serious about the poking, but after being able to ascertain nothing, she let out a sigh. 'You're not a first year, right?' Her tone remained largely flat despite her annoyance. 'So... you should know how to use a wand. You know. Spell-casting thing. Kind of stick-like, so you were on the right track.' She would have brandished her own, except she had left it in her dormitory, not wanting it to fall out of one of her pockets during her adventure. Now, she realised what a horrific choice that had been; her head ached rather astutely, and the initial wonder she'd held at the ground becoming the sky had slowly drained out of her as she slowly came to the understanding that, without assistance, she would not be doing much other than hanging in there.
'If you need a bit of advice... well, are you aware of some levitation spells?'
She certainly could not cast one herself, not without her wand, so no matter what the boy came up with, Livia would be privy to his whims for the time being. She continued to hang, and, slightly bored and afflicted with a mild ache of the skull, she began to swing back and forth once again, using the foot that was beneath the branch as a small 'anchor point' via which she could levy her weight.
@dennis tumberton
| [staff] jessamine lancaster even you cannot conquer the sun. | marina alacrán [inpc] her hair is kinda wild and free. |
9 Sep 2025, 17:13
A Little Help Here?
His wand. Right, He must have really been lost in his own little world. “Yes. A wand. That’s exactly what I need,” the Ravenclaw muttered coughing as if to clear his throat, brandishing it with a flourish. Tapping it on his chin though, he still wasn’t quite sure how to go about helping this girl. What exactly did she want help with? Perhaps she wanted helped transfiguring? That was definitely above his pay grade. Avifors was used to transform him into an eagle but that seemed to take a considerable amount of raw magical power from the professor, something he didn’t possess.
She mentioned the littering thing and he shrugged still lost in thought. He was sure he’d remember it later. “You know, you give me any more sass and I might just glue you up there,” Dennis quipped feeling the need for another cigarette. “I could shrink the tree. Cut the tree down. Burn the tree down. You could just fall and trust me to cast spongy in time. I don’t mean to brag but I am on the dueling team.”
At the mention of a levitation spell, the answer popped into his mind. “I got a great idea! A levitation spell!” Ok so it wasn’t an original idea. “Levicorpus!” Dennis commanded pointing his wand at the first year. With unexpected gentleness, at least for how he kind of bumbled his way along recently, Dennis sought to catch her by her heel and levitate her slowly, still up side down, to the ground. When her hands were firmly planted on the ground, he let the spell go.
Picking up the bud of his spent cigarette, Dennis flashed her his trademark Dennis grin and gestured in a “see ya later” hand motion and without another word made his way back to the castle. That was quite lucky being at the right place at the right time. Perhaps his luck wasn’t all bad after all!
She mentioned the littering thing and he shrugged still lost in thought. He was sure he’d remember it later. “You know, you give me any more sass and I might just glue you up there,” Dennis quipped feeling the need for another cigarette. “I could shrink the tree. Cut the tree down. Burn the tree down. You could just fall and trust me to cast spongy in time. I don’t mean to brag but I am on the dueling team.”
At the mention of a levitation spell, the answer popped into his mind. “I got a great idea! A levitation spell!” Ok so it wasn’t an original idea. “Levicorpus!” Dennis commanded pointing his wand at the first year. With unexpected gentleness, at least for how he kind of bumbled his way along recently, Dennis sought to catch her by her heel and levitate her slowly, still up side down, to the ground. When her hands were firmly planted on the ground, he let the spell go.
Picking up the bud of his spent cigarette, Dennis flashed her his trademark Dennis grin and gestured in a “see ya later” hand motion and without another word made his way back to the castle. That was quite lucky being at the right place at the right time. Perhaps his luck wasn’t all bad after all!
@Livia Machavariani
Ok that was way too easy. Just goes to show how often I now have to write that name.
Adult: Makaio Kāne | iNPC: Maria Leung de Almeida
12 Sep 2025, 16:24
A Little Help Here?
date: 12th september 2025
time: afternoon/early evening
location: hogwarts grounds, scottish highlands
As the boy prattled on about his need for a wand, Livia simply watched. She would give nary a blink, even less a hint of a smile, as she instead gazed at this young man for whom magic was not the first answer. His background must have been the most curious thing, but any intrigue Livia held for him was quickly staunched when he began to sputter out the most absurd suggestions. With each outlandish option, Livia's neutrality faltered. Shrinking the tree? Her eyebrows lifted. Cutting down the tree? Her peripheral vision narrowed, as did her eyes.
The blank expression did return when he stated he was on the duelling team. Livia kept her mouth shut—expressing her true disbelief would not do her any favours. However, duelling entailed intense strategic input, perhaps even genius, both of which she dearly hoped this boy could entertain. She continued to numbly gaze at him when he excitedly mentioned a... levitation spell? Livia swung herself a bit more, letting her gaze travel to the forest floor, since it didn't seem as if she were getting anywhere with the boy.
She had not expected anything from him—least of all a levitation spell that did the job, albeit in a manner that had her clenching her jaw to avoid letting out any rude words. Her hands brushed against the earth, and she breathed in deeply, relishing the grounding scent of foliage and bark. She fell in a heap when the boy dropped the spell. When she sat up, leaves and twigs had stuck themselves within her now-ratty hair, and dirt had speckled her well-intentioned outfit like the unsanitary splatter of blood. She straightened her spine and tucked her legs underneath her so she could survey the outré occasion. The only outward indication of her confusion would be a quick blink when the boy grinned at her, waved, and began to leave.
Now alone, Livia reached up and let down her chignon before picking at the twigs stuck in her hair. She crumbled a few dead leaves to ash-like smithereens and stood. The pounding in her head slowly began to subside, and she stared upwards at the branch she had been stuck on, her gaze catching on the green, lumpy figure of her abandoned cap. Only then did the corners of her lips draw downwards. Her hand slipped into her pocket, and the motion only elicited a further scowl from the girl, who once again recalled that her wand remained in her dormitory.
With posture as straight as a well-crafted arrow and a gaze twice as sharp, the dirt-covered girl with leaves and broken vines still strewn through her hair began to stalk back towards the castle. She welcomed the snapping of twigs underneath her boots, granted a half-appreciative look to the few animals she spotted scurrying about. A hint of red caught her eye, and she swivelled her chin to face a grouping of red poppies. The flowers were certainly a far more calming sight than the boy with the blazing red hair, but despite the boy's lack of tactical prowess, Livia found her agitation fading. The boy had seen her in a far-from-refined situation, so she felt no need to seek him out again. However, that he had helped her during such a happening meant that, even at a school full of mannerless misfeasors, some nonpareils of cordiality remained.
time: afternoon/early evening
location: hogwarts grounds, scottish highlands
roleplaying as livia machavariani
sta: 2 | eva: 10 | str: 0 | wis: 7 | arc: 8 | acc: 8
terrible presence
sta: 2 | eva: 10 | str: 0 | wis: 7 | arc: 8 | acc: 8
terrible presence
As the boy prattled on about his need for a wand, Livia simply watched. She would give nary a blink, even less a hint of a smile, as she instead gazed at this young man for whom magic was not the first answer. His background must have been the most curious thing, but any intrigue Livia held for him was quickly staunched when he began to sputter out the most absurd suggestions. With each outlandish option, Livia's neutrality faltered. Shrinking the tree? Her eyebrows lifted. Cutting down the tree? Her peripheral vision narrowed, as did her eyes.
The blank expression did return when he stated he was on the duelling team. Livia kept her mouth shut—expressing her true disbelief would not do her any favours. However, duelling entailed intense strategic input, perhaps even genius, both of which she dearly hoped this boy could entertain. She continued to numbly gaze at him when he excitedly mentioned a... levitation spell? Livia swung herself a bit more, letting her gaze travel to the forest floor, since it didn't seem as if she were getting anywhere with the boy.
She had not expected anything from him—least of all a levitation spell that did the job, albeit in a manner that had her clenching her jaw to avoid letting out any rude words. Her hands brushed against the earth, and she breathed in deeply, relishing the grounding scent of foliage and bark. She fell in a heap when the boy dropped the spell. When she sat up, leaves and twigs had stuck themselves within her now-ratty hair, and dirt had speckled her well-intentioned outfit like the unsanitary splatter of blood. She straightened her spine and tucked her legs underneath her so she could survey the outré occasion. The only outward indication of her confusion would be a quick blink when the boy grinned at her, waved, and began to leave.
Now alone, Livia reached up and let down her chignon before picking at the twigs stuck in her hair. She crumbled a few dead leaves to ash-like smithereens and stood. The pounding in her head slowly began to subside, and she stared upwards at the branch she had been stuck on, her gaze catching on the green, lumpy figure of her abandoned cap. Only then did the corners of her lips draw downwards. Her hand slipped into her pocket, and the motion only elicited a further scowl from the girl, who once again recalled that her wand remained in her dormitory.
With posture as straight as a well-crafted arrow and a gaze twice as sharp, the dirt-covered girl with leaves and broken vines still strewn through her hair began to stalk back towards the castle. She welcomed the snapping of twigs underneath her boots, granted a half-appreciative look to the few animals she spotted scurrying about. A hint of red caught her eye, and she swivelled her chin to face a grouping of red poppies. The flowers were certainly a far more calming sight than the boy with the blazing red hair, but despite the boy's lack of tactical prowess, Livia found her agitation fading. The boy had seen her in a far-from-refined situation, so she felt no need to seek him out again. However, that he had helped her during such a happening meant that, even at a school full of mannerless misfeasors, some nonpareils of cordiality remained.
@dennis tumberton
thread finished.
thread finished.
| [staff] jessamine lancaster even you cannot conquer the sun. | marina alacrán [inpc] her hair is kinda wild and free. |