Audience Of One
The small girl had sought out the boathouse, having learnt that it was one of the less heavily trafficked areas of the school. On a good day, if she was exceptionally lucky, she would have only herself for company. That was what she hoped for when she struck out onto the grounds following her final class of the day. While the common room would've been more ideal than making such a long trek, there were always other lions there, always several pairs of prying eyes.
Do you ever feel like a misfit?
✪ Everything inside you is dark and twisted ✪
Outfit: School robes
It wasn't that she thought she was guarding a careful secret. This far into the school year, it was unlikely that any of her yearmates and perhaps the majority of her housemates didn't know about her...condition.
Whether she liked it or not – more often when she did not – her hair and eyes broke rank, taking on whatever fanciful colour happened to match her more intense moods. It was something her parents had been trying, without success, to curb for as long as she could remember. As she grew older, Poppy was finding it more and more difficult. In the past, it required feelings strong enough that they made her shake. Now, it felt almost as if whatever hidden magic lay within her was floating on a whim, making itself at home and leaving her utterly embarrassed in the process.
For a girl who withered under scrutiny and short-circuited in the presence of any sort of attention, suddenly having her hair go purple in the middle of a conversation she was barely fumbling her way through, or her blue-green irises melting into gold without her noticing, was nothing short of a mini-nightmare.
If for no one else, Poppy resolved that she needed to learn all she could for herself. Even more, she needed to learn how to control it before her body had the chance to turn itself into an effervescent Christmas tree equipped with things flashing that had no business flashing at all.
Poppy sat in perfect concentration inside the greenhouse. Beside her, her shoes and socks sat on the damp wood of the dock while her feet dangled into the cool water of the black lake. The sound of the water gently lapping against the structure ebbed in and out with each small wave, creating a soothing environment to get lost in her work.
If she could only find out how it worked, Poppy was confident she would be able to make less of a spectacle of herself. What readings she'd found had made it clear that it wouldn't be going anywhere and had even suggested that a failure to hone it could result in even more uncontrollable changes in her adult life. It was enough to make her chest tighten. The very thought of her body betraying her every time she felt anything too strongly was mortifying. The girl was equally not thrilled with the idea that she might have to avoid feeling anything – never mind how impossible the notion itself happened to be.
If ignoring wasn't an option, then training was all she had left.
She would be lying if she said she wasn't also...curious. It was something that had been with her her whole life and not everything she'd read had been doom and gloom.
Poppy held both braids in her hands, trying to change the colour of the strands. It was always so effortless when she wasn't thinking about it, a full-body hijacking in her opinion. Now, it was the hardest thing. The ends would take on a gentle cerulean, barely creeping a quarter of the way up, before fading back to their usual blonde.
It was her seventh attempt, and she wasn't any closer to figuring out how she ticked.
Encyclopaedia ✿ Metamorphmagus ✿ If the sun shines, that's reason enough.
Audience Of One
Coming upon @Persephone Grimsbane unexpectedly
CLICK!
The sharp click of a camera shutter broke the quiet in the same. The sound camera from the wizarding camera cradled in Simon Kincaid's hands as he stepped into the Boathouse that early evening. Anyone watching might have assumed he was simply taking a photograph of her.
In reality though, the Hufflepuff was just advancing the film within the camera, having just loaded it on his way to the Boathouse. The small mechanical click-whirr sounded almost embarassingly loud in the quiet space.
He was there to retrieve a boat to hopefully capture Herman, the giant squid. Simon had been trying to capture the illusive Herman for years and while he had seen him plenty - it was never on time through the lens of his camera. It seemed almost like a game now between him and his mollusk friend, one that he didn't quite agree playing.
Simon's fingers fumbled with the back latch and he checked it again, ensuring that the film had caught correctly. The would be just his luck to finally catch sight of Herman, have his camera, but have the film malfuction from his own wrongdoing.
Simon glanced up from his camera to see the girl there. Someone else might not have seen her from the darkened shadows and low light of the Boathouse but his dhampir sense allowed his eyes to dialate more so than that of a human and allowed him to see just fine in the space. "Hello," he called out, hoping not to startle her.
He looked beyond her to where some of the wooden boats were lined up, but they had rope across them and a sign written RESERVED: DO NOT USE. Not convient. Not cool.
Be kind to one another. (*iNPC is Miles Thatcher)
Audience Of One
CLICK!
Do you ever feel like a misfit?
✪ Everything inside you is dark and twisted ✪
Outfit: School robes
In a busier place, Poppy may not have even registered the familiar sound. Caught in her own business, lulled by the ambience of chatter and subtle mischief, the click of a camera wouldn't be enough to set her nervous system ablaze.
Alone, so far from others within the cold stone and damp wood of the boathouse, the sound may as well have been thunder clapping across the sky.
The little girl's head shot up at once, swivelling in both directions in her search for the source of the disruption as her hands fell from her braids. Sitting so long in the low light, her eyes had already done their adjusting, allowing them to make out the figure that had stepped through the entrance and taken several steps inside.
A chill ran through her, the fine hairs on the back of her neck rising despite the lack of distinguishable threat. A stillness gripped the boathouse, unlike the serenity that had been there before. It was subtle but perceivable, building in her an inexplicable sense of unease.
Poppy's gaze shifted from the camera in the boy's hands to the boy himself when he greeted her, but while her mouth fell open, there were no words that she could draw forth.
Then the dam broke.
"Oh—I—hello," she said, fumbling her way through her own greeting. Poppy scrambled to her feet, creating soft splooshing sounds in the newly disrupted water. "I wasn't expecting – I didn't know you'd wanted to – you can...you can have the boathouse – not that you need my permission; you don't, b-but if you needed it. I don't usually run into people in here, so I thought... I thought it was okay to..."
To what?
Test the physical limits of some formerly unknown trait she supposedly possessed? Poppy saw students practising magic all the time, but...did this count? It wasn't like half the school was walking around with hair that couldn't decide what colour it wanted to be whenever their emotions spiked.
Like now.
Glancing down to find her shoes, the small girl could see the once stubborn braids now engulfed in pale lilac, where before she could barely get the ends to go blue. Slowly, the lilac darkened, going a deep violet as her embarrassment over the display began to spiral.
Poppy shuffled her feet uncomfortably as her body tried to work its way through some of the rising tension that seeped into her muscles.
"I didn't..." she moved a few loose strands of hair behind her ear, "I didn't ruin your shot, did I?"
Encyclopaedia ✿ Metamorphmagus ✿ If the sun shines, that's reason enough.
Audience Of One
"No, no, you're fine. Completely fine," Simon assured her quickly. "It is I who interrupted you and apologize." His one hand was up as if trying to stop her from moving too suddenly, the way he tried to sometimes will Rascal into staying in one place just before he was to dart off - his small gray rat. It wasn't that this girl in front of him reminded him of his small gray rat by any means, but just that she seemed skiddish all the same.Apologies and compliments to @Persephone Grimsbane
Simon could see her hair begin to change before him, especially apparent from his heightened dhampir sight. "It really is okay to......." and he paused just as she had, not in a mocking way but with a smile to show her that he meant no harm.
Somehow he got the feeling that her hair might have something to do with why she was here alone and knew that the boathouse was so often unoccupied. Was she nervous about revealing she was a metamorphagus? Simon thought it was quite incredible himself. Then again, he was a dhampir so he had personal experience with not being 'normal,' - whatever that was.
"Amazing hair," he complimented her. Even if it wasn't what she was hoping for it was impressive all the same.
Be kind to one another. (*iNPC is Miles Thatcher)
Audience Of One
He...was the one who needed to....apologise?
Do you ever feel like a misfit?
✪ Everything inside you is dark and twisted ✪
Outfit: School robes
It was a strange concept for the girl who'd been conditioned to apologise before offense could even be given. There was always something to be sorry for. Her mother said as much. If she thought there was nothing, it only meant she needed to think harder. Sitting there in the aftermath of the 'click' that alerted her to the older Hufflepuff's presence, Poppy could already think of a myriad of reasons to shrink herself and concede the secluded space.
It could have been his usual spot. She could be intruding by virtue of being there at all. Him? Apologise? She was quick to protest.
"N—No, you don't have to. I—it's okay. You...you haven't interrupted, really. I..." her eyes fell to her braids again before sinking to the glassy surface of the lake. "I guess I don't really know what I'm doing out here anyway."
There hadn't been a manual, no guidebook on how to be a metamorphmagus the right way or how to get a handle on it. All she'd managed to read told her that it was connected to emotional control and the ability to eventually train one's own reactions. There was an outcome where she could master it, but there was another where she was doomed to flashing body parts for the rest of her life.
Safe to say, she knew which one she didn't want.
"Amazing hair."
"...Oh." Her cheeks pinkened at the compliment. "It's...it's nothing special. My sister Evelyn's hair is like silk – Sera's too, but she...she doesn't like having it brushed – she's only 8. Would rather roll around in hay, honestly. Doesn't leave much time for brushing." It never occurred to her that he meant the colour. Having it change had never been something...celebrated in any form back home. Her parents were never thrilled when it happened, only deeply exasperated.
Things were only ever worse if there were guests over.
"Wh–what were you taking pictures of, if you don't mind me asking?"
Encyclopaedia ✿ Metamorphmagus ✿ If the sun shines, that's reason enough.
Audience Of One
Deflecting, for now, onto photography talk with @Persephone Grimsbane
"Oh, no, I mean...it's lovely in that respect," he said as she mentioned it being the way her hair was, "but I meant the color and all that." 'All that' had been for the color changing aspect but Simon seemed to pick up now that she wasn't directly wanting to talk about that right now so unless he wanted to cut this interaction off now, he felt it was better to deflect from that for now.
"I was actually just loading the camera. When you put a new roll in and shut the back, you need to advance the film to ensure it's installed properly. You click the button up here a couple times," he pulled over his camera to show her, "and move aside this lever."
"I wasn't sure what I was going to take some pictures of yet. I've tried for years to get a decent one of Herman. That's what I call the giant squid. I've gotten a blurry one and two others that are decent of his tentacles. He's camera shy, apparently," Simon smiled.
"Have any suggestions on what to take photographs of? If you're done in here you could walk with me and be my photographer's assistant. Sometimes its helpful to see something from another's perspective." Perhaps he was asking too much and she'd rather stay in the Boathouse for some peace and quiet but it seemed if she wanted to converse with him as much right now, perhaps she would like some company. Simon always preferred company over being alone.
Be kind to one another. (*iNPC is Miles Thatcher)