Caught Red-Handed
Curiously, Aleks studied the camera. Resting between his two hands, the mechanical marvel of enchanted film caught the sunlight on its lens. Clouds stretched across the curved glass, as if some rushed artist had tried to paint their fluffy nature, and in his haste, had drawn them skinny. It reminded him of his mother‘s endless talks and frustrated yapping about cover girls on magazines these days.
One didn’t stumble upon such things every day. He had only found this beautiful piece by accident, as if karma has bestowed him a belated gift. Somewhere in the courtyard it had lain, perched on a stair leading toward a lesser-used exit. That anyone might have simply lost it, Aleks could hardly imagine. Who in their right mind would leave a camera lying about?
A grin began to unfurl on the lips. Aleks turned the device over on his lap, inspecting its back.
Truthfully, he‘d never had a camera this close before. Certainly not one presented to him with the unspoken invitation to use it. The young Slytherin pulled his legs into a cross-legged seat, while his back was leaning against the wooden plank that served as a makeshift bench in the courtyard. It pressed into his shoulder blade, wrinkling his already untidy school robes. Although the autumn wind teased cold air across his nose, and a leaf nearly slapped his face, he ignored it. The camera absorbed all his attention.
His excited grin spread wider, ascending the freckles along his cheeks. The boy studied the button at the top and lifted the small device toward his face. To his surprise, it felt much heavier in his grip than expected, weight pressing into his palms. Aleks squinted one blue eye and peered through the tiny hole— only to see the world slightly distorted. It felt as though it was purposely veiled by a natural vignette! What was it for? The question dug into his expression, planting a faint frown in his brow.
Meticulously, he panned the device with his upper body and shoulders, letting the world drift past. For a moment, a plump little creature stood on the verge of vanishing into a bush, jumped and disappeared. The rustle had caught his ear, and Aleks lowered the camera in surprise. “Hm?” Perplexed, he stared into the dense green. The hedge beside the bench offered a small gap, its thin twigs and leaves snapped as if some tipsy squirrel had blundered home from the local tavern.
A thought struck him—it deserved a photograph— for evidence! The idea was celebrated by a soft snickering sound. Joy for the investigation spread to his eyes. Aleks raised the camera again, aimed at the opening, and pressed his finger gently against silver button. But nothing happened. So much for intuitively understanding the design.
Drawing a deeper breath, he steadied his aim and pressed harder. This time the button slowly sank into the metal body. Bit by bit it disappeared in the mysterious insides. Finally, it aligned out with the frame—and a glaring flash buzzed in front of his eyes.
It declared the attempt a success. Even he was startled, not having expected the noise. His shoulders froze, fingers tightening on the device as though it might leap from his hands and bolt away.
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Speech: Me #84319f, Others Mentioned: @Ewan MacLeod 15/10/25BABYSHARkDUhDUhDUHDuhDUhDUHMOMMY SHARKDUDUH |
· · ────────────Oh a signature. Encyclopedia >CLIcK$<──────────── · ·
Stamina - 8 ✸ Evasion - 8 ✸ - Strength - 7 ✸ Wis. - 5 ✸ ArcPower - 5 ✸ Accuracy - 7
Stamina - 8 ✸ Evasion - 8 ✸ - Strength - 7 ✸ Wis. - 5 ✸ ArcPower - 5 ✸ Accuracy - 7
Caught Red-Handed
That day had seemed like the perfect for Ewan to go out on the castle grounds and explore: despite loving the lessons he had been attending up until that point, Ewan would always rejoice to spend some time in the outdoors, as the fresh air caressed his cheeks and ruffled his hair. That is the reason why he had been crouched low, among tree roots and bushes, tongue sticking out of his mouth slightly and pressing up against one of its corners as he scribbled out a few notes on his journal: he had come across a rather peculiar cluster of red spotted caps mushrooms, that looked like they had been arranged rather deliberately to form a circular shape, at the edge of the grounds near the wooded line.
The light had been perfect, gently filtering through the canopy, and his wizarding camera had seemed like just the right tool to snap a photo of the natural specimens, for later study. The young boy had momentarily set it down on a flat-looking rock nearby, just so he'd be able to take notes properly. However, when his hands reached back for the camera, they found nothing but cold stone.
He spun around, blinked, and stared at the empty, formerly "wizarding camera"-shaped space.
"... Huh?" His voice was a little more than a whisper, though it perfectly encapsulated Ewan's confusion and disbelief. The camera wasn't that small, it couldn't just vanish into thin air. His heart-rate quickened. Could it have sprouted legs and run off somewhere far away?
"C'mon, Ewan, don't jump to conclusions too quickly." The young student tried to reassure himself: perhaps he had mistakenly thought that he had placed the camera on the rock, when really it was elsewhere, like by the base of one of the nearby trees. He quickly checked, but found nothing. Having safely tucked his notebook in one of the inner pockets of his robe so as to avoid losing it as well, Ewan began combing the grass and the ground, brushing fallen leaves aside and peering into the underbrush. No luck.
The camera was nowhere to be seen. It felt like a weight was beginning to burden him slowly, something heavy in his chest despite trying to maintain calm and positive. That camera had been given to him by his father, Rory, as a gift, the morning before he'd left for Hogwarts. Always a man of few words, his father knew about how Ewan liked to explore, and rightly thought that photography would be a great medium for capturing his son's escapades and whatnot. The young MacLeod had really liked the gift, promising to take good care of it. A month later or so, and he had already lost it.
He swallowed hard. "Come on, where are ye..." He called softly, though it made no sense to do so: it wasn't like the camera could reply. After a longer while of searching in vain, Ewan stood with a downcast mood and brushed the dirt from his knees. He trudged toward the castle absent-mindedly, as his feet carried him through the wooden bridge that led into the clocktower courtyard. He was about to make his way inside the castle, feet dragging on the cobbled floor, when suddenly he heard it.
CLICK!
He turned around, his gaze sweeping over the empty courtyard. Well, turns out it wasn't so empty after all. His eyes settled on an older-though-not-by-much-looking boy sitting cross-legged on a wooden bench, Slytherin-coloured robes slightly rumpled, seemingly intent on taking a picture of a nearby bush with a camera. Realistically, it could've been anyone's. But what if...? Only one way to find out.
Ewan stopped in his tracks, and slowly retraced his steps until he was closer to the bench and to the other student, feigning casual interest. Just as he was a few paces away, his examining gaze caught on a small, unassuming detail: a little half-faded sticker of a star at the lower side of the casing. Ewan let a few moments pass, to steady his nerves and resolve. Then, calmly but determinedly, he spoke.
"That's a fine camera ye've got there." He tilted his head, strands of auburn hair falling over his eyes. "I reckon I'd know, since it's mine." Ewan's voice concealed a silent accusation, as did his eyes. Had he just crossed paths with a thief?
Caught Red-Handed
Aleks’s eyes examined the device intently, then lifted it up until he could stare at it on eye level—almost accusingly. As if the young Slytherin held a prisoner between his tense fingertips, the camera seemed to stare back. With its large lens it appeared both bewildered and insolent, as though on the verge of picking a fight.
His gaze darkened, narrowing into slits until only a plaintive look showed beneath his lashes. Like a critic, Aleks studied its form, trailing briefly a finger over the texture of its grip. Wihin a second the stroking became a cautious scratching. To threaten it—forcing the device to answer the question rattling through his mind. “Why did you startle me—do you not like me?” he whispered.
“That’s a fine camera ye’ve got there.” a voice all of a sudden pierced into his freckle-dusted ears. Aleks startled. His breath jolted, rushing hard into his lungs. At once, all the while the newcomer‘s voice insisted the camera was his property, Aleks’s fingers snapped back. The weight slipped from his palms, tumbling between them.
Aleks‘s blue eyes flared wide and his breath froze. In his throat he hissed a faint “Fuck.”, watching the camera drop. Luckily, it slid against his torso. In a rush he pinned it with one arm, locking it into safety.
It hung there now, pressed tight against his chest and collarbone, as though he had decided to comfort it with a hug. His pulse still thundered as he finally turned his head, gaze whipped toward the voice’s source. There stood a boy unknown to him. Clutching his treasure more firmly, his breath slowed into a steady pace.
Aleks unfolded his cross-legged seat and took in the first thing to catch his eye—red hair. In the sunlight it gleamed like the fire in the Slytherin common room hearth. Only the wretched green of algae and grime was missing around it. Instead it lay in soft waves across the face of the supposed camera owner.
Aleks pressed his lips shut, casting his critical gaze up and down—from the stranger’s shoes back to the warm crown of hair. He wasn’t inclined to believe him outright. After all, the young Serb could easily imagine someone lying just to get their hands on a camera for themselves.
Especially in the green Slytherin house, where so many had sarcasm and deceit pierced into their tongues.
“Okay.” he began, though the distrust was obvious between the vowels, “And what tells me you’re not just showing up here to steal my camera?”
Steadily Aleks pressed his mouth into a straight line. The smile was tucked away for caution’s sake, replaced instead with the lift of a single brow.
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Speech: Me #84319f, Others Mentioned: @Ewan MacLeod 15/10/25BABYSHARkDUhDUhDUHDuhDUhDUHMOMMY SHARKDUDUH |
· · ────────────Oh a signature. Encyclopedia >CLIcK$<──────────── · ·
Stamina - 8 ✸ Evasion - 8 ✸ - Strength - 7 ✸ Wis. - 5 ✸ ArcPower - 5 ✸ Accuracy - 7
Stamina - 8 ✸ Evasion - 8 ✸ - Strength - 7 ✸ Wis. - 5 ✸ ArcPower - 5 ✸ Accuracy - 7