Duress of Circumstances
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mentions| @Archer Duncan
ooc notes| none! enjoy :]
date| 10/10/25word count
val/regent |aliases
robes over their pyjamas |outfit
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The evening was so still, Valour could practically feel the blood thrumming in their veins. Their dormmates had long since gone to sleep, the sound of their shallow breath so loud against the quiet static of the night. They felt a periodic wave of energy with every attempt at sleep they made, turning this way and that. Never quite comfortable, they gave in to the feeling, sitting upright. It was no use even trying anymore. What on earth were they doing, confining themself to bed when they had an entire castle at their disposal? It seemed a terrible waste of such potent hours; little interruption, high stakes, an excellent opportunity to explore. She quietly slid out of bed, finding their shoes and pulling on their robe over their slip. It was nearing the witching hour, and Valour had a particular destination in mind for their foray into forbidden territory.
With their wand gripped tight in their palm, they slipped out of the common room, past exhausted fifth years who had fallen asleep over their books and eagle-eyed portraits, who began to murmur. They wrapped their robes around themself tight as the cool chill of the marble corridors hit them, paired with the now familiar waft of dust and parchment. With a concerted effort to keep their footsteps feather-light, they traced the familiar route up to the highest point of the school. Around the halfway mark, Valour began to reconsider their plan, silently sucking in deep breaths of stagnant air. The spiral staircase was not for the weak. Not to mention their imagination picked up on every draft, creak and echo, wondering what they’d do if someone were to intercept them here. There’d be nowhere to hide. Suffice to say, they were incentivised to make it to the top as quickly as they could.
Ever since their arrival, the Astronomy Tower had proudly secured its position as Valour’s favourite place in the castle. While they did not inherit their parents’ avid academic interest in the subject, it felt as though the study of stars was deeply rooted in their DNA. They felt at home amongst the shimmering drapes and towering windows, reminiscent of their beloved estate. The skyline from this high was nothing short of breathtaking at sunset, but at night, the real showstopper was the glittering expansiveness of the universe above. There was something so primeval and innate about the awe it instilled in them. She could only wonder how many other eyes had gazed up at the same sky and felt that all too familiar feeling. Her fingertips tingled and her head spun a little, a little off kilter as they stood with their throat bared to the skylight. Valour inhaled slowly before returning down to earth and examining their surroundings.
Night always casted a delightful twist on ordinary memories. The classroom, usually abuzz with other students and Professor McCroire’s musings, was now eerily foreign. As if the veil of daylight was now lifted and Valour was seeing the room in its true form for the first time. They started by rummaging through the bookshelves, tracing a finger lazily across the dusty surface as they skimmed the ‘A’ section. The shelf was cluttered with Argentums. ‘Altair’ to ‘Ambrose’ to ‘Vada’ and ‘Vega’. There were a few more distant relatives, ones who had co-opted the title of ‘Argentum’ despite being various times removed. Although Valour lacked her family’s distinct pride in scholastic prestige, they couldn’t help but turn their nose up a little in smug satisfaction. A habit they often tried to shake but nonetheless indulged in from time to time.
Valour’s eyes soon trailed involuntarily to the beanbags and blankets that lay strewn under the observation dome. On many occasions, they had found themself guiltily drifting off to sleep during lessons, having stayed up most nights in the week doing Merlin knows what. Ironic that now they found themself now wide awake and still tempted by the idea. Maybe they could curl up in a corner and fall asleep, innocently claiming they had drifted off during a lesson, and nobody had found them.
Just as their mind drifted into counting sheep, they were lurched back into reality as a floorboard screeched under weight. It wasn’t them. They hadn’t moved an inch. Valour stood frozen, staring in the direction of the sound for a beat too long before scanning the room for a place to hide. The classroom was infuriatingly open plan. Valour moved like a startled deer, underneath the spiralling steps of the central orrery. Crouching to the floor and cursing their lack of practical charms, they held their breath and peered between the floating steps. Was their intruder a figure of authority on patrol, or another student out past curfew? More important still, had they been seen?
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sta 5 | eva 8 | str 5 | wis 2 | arc 1 | acc 9
seer | intuition
sta 5 | eva 8 | str 5 | wis 2 | arc 1 | acc 9
seer | intuition
Duress of Circumstances
Night dawned swiftly in the Scottish winters; a shadow sweeping over the cloud-blinded stars. Darkness was quick to slip on its mask, these stars twinkling desperately behind the fog. The hum of nothingness had settled in, accompanied only be the howl of the untamed winds and the soft, heavy breathing of sleeping students.
Archer was not amongst those lucky enough to live without insomnia. He tossed and turned, flipping through his blankets, and churned through his. He sat up in jolts of thought, laid back down again as he settled for peace, and repeated the cycle until he tired himself to the bone, eyes blinking open as soon as they managed to close. Yet still he did not sleep, not when his heart beat with the unmistakable thumps of anxiety. His head throbbed with the repeated remnants of circumstance. He glanced over at his dorm mate, steady, silent. There was such tranquility — a tranquility he could never experience.
He pushed himself up and stood, a shudder sent down his back as his bare feet met the cold stone floors. He pulled on socks and a pair of boots, slipping into his cloak. Taking one final glance at the asleep Pass, he let out a long, pensive sigh, straightened his clothes, and closed the door gently behind him with a soft flick. He gathered himself, glanced around furtively, and crept towards the darkened lobby of the common room, extending hand to trail his path down on the wall.
His destination was clear, his mind set. The astronomy tower was his solace, the stars the final resting place of his mother. Her soul was enteral in those flickering lights, the last reminder of her presence. Mother and son, their memories reinforced into constellations, their love projected onto nebulae.
These nebulae, however, were not enough to save her. Love, was not enough to save her.
Bitterly, he stuffed his hands deep into his robe pockets, mind racing against his own self as he attempted to dispel his thoughts. He grimaced, the gesture hitching his breath at those mere thoughts. His footsteps quickened, boots clicking dangerously on the corridor floors, giving away himself with every sudden footfall. Eventually he lit a light with his wand, a flickering Lumos illuminating the corridors, and he found a streak of solace and warmth.
Archer was soon to wonder his way to the astronomy hall, climbing the dining stone staircase all the way to the top. There was a loneliness to his sole steps. The agility usually observed in the daytime was toned left only by a desolate trudging, each part of him empty, from the hollowness in his stomach to the absence in his heart. A nothingness crept up his body and threatened to conquer his mind, reduce him to…
Nothing, he was nothing.
Hands white-knuckled around the fabric of his cloak’s inside, he set his eyes with determination to the door, and pushed it open with the wire or his shoulder. Fresh, crisp winter night air whistled in, enveloping his face in the sudden rush of cold, forcing his mind into a clear one. He skimmed as the wind scattered apart the clouds above, and but down on his teeth against the chattering cold. He felt a small smile creeping up his face, embracing the chill with a glee that was almost masochistic as he turned his gaze to the stars, the wind stinging his eyes.
His smile spread, and he did not notice the amount of he made as a spring finally found itself into lightened steps. His boots left trails of his presence as he hit the floor, and a light hum escaped him as the glimmering sky above was finally revealed in its full glory. He sighed, and for once, it was entirely out of joy.
Caught up in the nighttime loneliness, he did not see them at first, with their dark skin and black hair they bled into the colours of the night. They were quiet too, a cat slipping into the darkest. It was late, yet they were still there.
Silence was enough for Archer. The quietude of the night with only the company of stardust. In the proximity of a stranger, yet perfectly content.
@Valour Argentum
Archer was not amongst those lucky enough to live without insomnia. He tossed and turned, flipping through his blankets, and churned through his. He sat up in jolts of thought, laid back down again as he settled for peace, and repeated the cycle until he tired himself to the bone, eyes blinking open as soon as they managed to close. Yet still he did not sleep, not when his heart beat with the unmistakable thumps of anxiety. His head throbbed with the repeated remnants of circumstance. He glanced over at his dorm mate, steady, silent. There was such tranquility — a tranquility he could never experience.
He pushed himself up and stood, a shudder sent down his back as his bare feet met the cold stone floors. He pulled on socks and a pair of boots, slipping into his cloak. Taking one final glance at the asleep Pass, he let out a long, pensive sigh, straightened his clothes, and closed the door gently behind him with a soft flick. He gathered himself, glanced around furtively, and crept towards the darkened lobby of the common room, extending hand to trail his path down on the wall.
His destination was clear, his mind set. The astronomy tower was his solace, the stars the final resting place of his mother. Her soul was enteral in those flickering lights, the last reminder of her presence. Mother and son, their memories reinforced into constellations, their love projected onto nebulae.
These nebulae, however, were not enough to save her. Love, was not enough to save her.
Bitterly, he stuffed his hands deep into his robe pockets, mind racing against his own self as he attempted to dispel his thoughts. He grimaced, the gesture hitching his breath at those mere thoughts. His footsteps quickened, boots clicking dangerously on the corridor floors, giving away himself with every sudden footfall. Eventually he lit a light with his wand, a flickering Lumos illuminating the corridors, and he found a streak of solace and warmth.
Archer was soon to wonder his way to the astronomy hall, climbing the dining stone staircase all the way to the top. There was a loneliness to his sole steps. The agility usually observed in the daytime was toned left only by a desolate trudging, each part of him empty, from the hollowness in his stomach to the absence in his heart. A nothingness crept up his body and threatened to conquer his mind, reduce him to…
Nothing, he was nothing.
Hands white-knuckled around the fabric of his cloak’s inside, he set his eyes with determination to the door, and pushed it open with the wire or his shoulder. Fresh, crisp winter night air whistled in, enveloping his face in the sudden rush of cold, forcing his mind into a clear one. He skimmed as the wind scattered apart the clouds above, and but down on his teeth against the chattering cold. He felt a small smile creeping up his face, embracing the chill with a glee that was almost masochistic as he turned his gaze to the stars, the wind stinging his eyes.
His smile spread, and he did not notice the amount of he made as a spring finally found itself into lightened steps. His boots left trails of his presence as he hit the floor, and a light hum escaped him as the glimmering sky above was finally revealed in its full glory. He sighed, and for once, it was entirely out of joy.
Caught up in the nighttime loneliness, he did not see them at first, with their dark skin and black hair they bled into the colours of the night. They were quiet too, a cat slipping into the darkest. It was late, yet they were still there.
Silence was enough for Archer. The quietude of the night with only the company of stardust. In the proximity of a stranger, yet perfectly content.
@Valour Argentum
I am not even singed. My wings are untouched. You use them for everything, except flight.
Liliya Starkova| Anthonie Engelbrecht
Liliya Starkova| Anthonie Engelbrecht
Duress of Circumstances
✦ ───────────────────────────────── ✦
mentions| @Archer Duncan
ooc notes| university can NOT stop me from procrastinating
date| 10/10/25word count
val/regent |aliases
robes over their pyjamas |outfit
✦✦✦
Valour’s lungs burned with a fury as they held their breath, cautious that even the slightest exhale would give away their presence. For now, they watched, silvery eyes landing on the shrouded figure as they embraced the view above them. He was slightly older; his eyes suggested by many, many years, while his stature gave away only by one or two. Dull brown locks of hair fell around his gaunt visage. Sharp and sunken, like the child had been hung out to dry. His slow, heavy footfalls reverberated around the room as if a giant.
They quietly observed their new companion’s somber smile, the expression looking so anomalous on his miserable face. Some people, Valour often found, had emotion scored deep into the lines of their cheeks and beneath their eyes. Anger and resentment settled upon their brow, while sorrow chipped deep into the sockets of their faces. However, as the boy let out a hum, breath materialising like smoke, all that wear and tear seemed to dissolve away. Sugar in black coffee. For a moment - if that - he looked fourteen again.
In the midst of the very touching moment, Valour almost forgot themselves. They let their muscles relax and deflated, letting their attention amble slowly back to the stars above. He clearly wasn’t there to patrol the place. Perhaps they could share the room in amicable silence. ‘Amicable’ might be opportunistic, but she often thought that the best company was among strangers. Gently, she rested her head against the floating staircase, peering up at the skylight between steps. Valour was almost certain that the Slytherin boy had spotted her; she knew better than to take him for a fool - a blind one at that. Ink-black hair spilled over the stairs, moon-white eyes reflecting the light above.
The stars seemed to align, curving softly like the corners of her mother’s mouth as she smiled. Some curled, wiry to the touch like her father’s beard. They weren’t gone - just far for now. The idea of such freedom in distance had always enticed Valour, but in quiet reprieves like these, ones that fell somewhere between past and present, it lost its flavour. All the deliciousness of independence seemed to shrink away like the shameplants in her mother’s garden. The allure of home, of the familiar and of routine began to fall into focus for the young witch, all while the view above her blurred. Sentimentality formed first in the eyes glazing over. They blinked the feeling away stubbornly. Batting away the thoughts of their own bed, their own room and their own place where they belonged.
It was not long before the respite shared between intruders was interrupted by confident footsteps. Each thud was poisoned with authority and purpose. Valour sat up like a whip, no longer caring for their subtle position out of sight from the boy. Now, they sought his eyes, expression level, but eyes alert to the danger approaching them both. They needed to hide.
✦ ───────────────────────────────── ✦
sta 5 | eva 8 | str 5 | wis 2 | arc 1 | acc 9
seer | intuition
sta 5 | eva 8 | str 5 | wis 2 | arc 1 | acc 9
seer | intuition
Duress of Circumstances
The distant thud of boots cut through the pristine silence between two strangers, perfectly content. The climbing of a staircase, the unmistakable sound of steps, the footfalls of a larger body. Archer’s ears perked up, his body tensed, and the serene air that had settled between the two of them slithered away into the open night sky. A loose breath was not drawn, and it tightened in his lungs. He stared at nothing, nowhere, and awaited his fate. That was until his eyes met the ones of the stranger. A deep, introspective grey, insisting.
In a flash of garments, a smudge of movement, and in a flash, he was no longer stationary. The stone-paved ground was already moving beneath his feet as his pace quickened across the tiled floors.
He turned towards the stranger. There was a brief moment of shared scrutiny as their gaze raked over each other. Archer offered a small, mischievous smile, and pressed a finger to his lips. He need not have said the words for them to be quiet — the only sound that pulsed through their tensioned wordlessness was the thundering of their heart, and the ragged intakes of breath they were fighting to hide.
Despite the stranger’s fear, it was these moments of devilish exhilaration that made each bout of teenage diablerie all the more worth it. He would have lamented towards this sky of stars above if his unlikely, unpredicted counterpart was as meek to be so easily fearful at threats of detention. After all, beyond puckish rule breaking, Archer Duncan aspired for far greater goals. It was simply against fortune that his dreams involved the bending of societal conventions, and he was ambitious enough to set his moral compass astray. North? No, he was fairly certain that pointed south.
A private smile crossed his face at the possibility of partnership. Certainly, only other lost souls called this tower a crooked home.
In their close proximity, Archer’s eyes fell over her features with further clarity. She was long-limbed, slender-bodied in a manner that reminded him of himself. And those eyes, grey bordering on black in darkness, drew all his attention to those two points. Immeasurable wells of schemes, curiosity, and a darker undertone that crept in only when the light hit in certain directions. Or when there was no light at all. He could almost feel her breath, unnaturally cold, on the nape of his neck as he pressed back into the shadows.
Finally, as the footsteps lingered at the door, before turning away, he straightened, and smoothed out the hair that had tangled in his swift concealment. His nightclothes and hastily-zippered jacket too now bore marks of dust from where his back had leaned against the walls. Vigilant hazel eyes traversed the observation deck, before flicking up to the entrance, under the stairs that led down from which they hid. At the definitive sound of a lock clicking, Archer breathed out the words, the syllables a bare whisper of teasing mockery: “You weren’t scared, were you?”
@Valour Argentum | banner by Adeline Spinks
I am not even singed. My wings are untouched. You use them for everything, except flight.
Liliya Starkova| Anthonie Engelbrecht
Liliya Starkova| Anthonie Engelbrecht