9 May 2020, 21:09
Tainted Service
The kitchens are located at the end of a brightly lit, colorful hall directly below the great hall. Large food-themed paintings lined the stone walls, saccharine treats, bowls of fruit and steak dinners on full display. It was the sort of passageway that caused tummies to rumble. At the very end of the hall, a great panting not unlike the painting that guarded the Gryffindor Common Room awaited them. Only there was one distinct difference, it was just a bowl of fruit.
Tickle the pear and gain entry.
Tee Hee Hee!
Something would push through the canvas, like a trapped... pear? Yes, a pear... trying to break free. The giggling pear would become a great doorknob.
The kitchen was not a place for students, it was too dangerous for careless hands. Yet three students would find themselves here @Aida Mòrsgor-Ama Ellwood, @Alexander Varellion and @Celynne Gray. It was unlikely that they were here for the sake of deviance or even an investigative spirit. It was merely the kitchens after all. They were here for a simple reason, a polite but ill-timed request for some soothing tea. It was hardly a powerful elixir capable of healing whatever ailed them yet it as what all three sought and for a rather important reason...
For you see, these three had been poisoned. They did not know it of course but it happened during their lunch time meal, while they enjoyed an overly heavy meal of treacle tart and steak & kidney pie. The three of them had made the same mistake without realizing, they took from the Professor's table as they passed by a handful of sugar-dusted blueberries (or some other fruit if I somehow chose a fruit none of you liked that could be coated in sugar). It was not that the students were refused fruit, just that it was not commonly consumed by -most- students short of the rare raspberry or apple-laced tart, fresh fruit was present albeit in limited quantities at the student tables.
Their little stomachs were ill-prepared for the nausea that followed. They were not retching nor were they at risk for staining their knickers, however their stomachs pained them and they sought respite. None knew -why- they were afflicted in the manner which they were, it was not an incredibly obvious parallel.
Inside the kitchen they would see an astonishing sight: a large, warm slightly larger than the the Great Hall one floor above. Indeed they were directly below the Great Hall here in the kitchen, this being a mirror image in terms of table placement as the Great Hall above. So much space, but why? Well, Gamps Law --
"Food is one of the first of five Principal Exceptions to Gamp’s Law of Elemental Transfigur— ... It’s impossible to make good food out of nothing! You can Summon it if you know where it is, you can transform it, you can increase the quantity if you’ve already got some."
Five great tables were placed exactly where the four house tables and one staff table sat in the great hall. There were only a few house elves at this hour busying themselves in the main part of the kitchen. Most were scouring pots and washing plates in the room adjacent with their version of the scouring charm one could only presume. There were others that were taking the newly cleaned plates and placing them in a neat row on the great tables, preemptively setting the table for the next meal in a few hours.
A single elf was stirring a great cauldron with a long wooden spoon. The sweet, slightly peppery scent was reminiscent of a bouillabaisse. Alongside the massive cauldron was one that was much smaller, a hearty bouillabaisse mixture in that pot also. Others were dicing vegetables, sweet peppers and onions primarily. Still others pulled great copper pots from the shelves that lined the walls, filling them with water or with diced vegetables and aromatics. The kitchen was incredibly hot but the House Elves did not seen to mind.
"Mr Varellion sir, you should not be here," an elf carrying a stack of plates would announce. "Are you hungry? Canbey will get you food. Sit young mister. Sit." The House elf, not unlike the rest with large bat-like ears, a slightly thicker mid-section and spindly arms and legs. His most defining feature was the the white cotton shorts and ribbed white tank he wore. Yes, he was a free-elf under the employ of Hogwarts. While some pure-blood wizarding households still have house elves that joyfully accept their slavery, these poor dejected elves were actually paid. That said, they still loved to serve.
"And you Miss Mòrsgor-Ama Ellwood," what a mouthful "free from your studies. You should not be here, too dangerous with the hot kettles and Canbey always underfoot..." The House Elf was wave their hand and the House Elves would stop working, at least most of them. They would approach the trio with wide eyes and perked ears.
"Miss Grey?" Another elf would ask, its small hand attempting to tug at the tail of her shirt. "What can we help you with?"[/color]
People don't often consider the little people... the elves. Constantly running to and fro, often seen but rarely heard. Happy to serve. Dutiful. Masterful. Quiet and precise. They are, well rather were the perfect servants. A life of serfdom that they were born into that despite possessing great power, they chose to remain deferential to their wizard lords. For generations, lines of house elves would service a family.
That was until guidelines on house-elf welfare were enforced. A difficult undertaking as there was resistance not only among old wizard families but also among elven kind. You see, elves believed in their lot. There was a sense of duty, pride and purpose in what they did. By earning a wage, much was taken from them as they saw the world differently and adhered to an alternative set of rules.
Of course there was something strange happening. Not just the unsettled feeling in their stomach. The house elves were only setting the students' plates. The day was a bit of a haze, not that they were amnesic but time seemed a bit off. While it was already three in the afternoon they felt as if they just left the lunchroom. It should be hardly past noon.
Last edited by Hjørdis Jensen on 10 May 2020, 14:55, edited 1 time in total.
Reason: Incorrect topic type, changed to RPG :)
There is something about ambition, how it not only propels you but also defines you.
10 May 2020, 02:23
Tainted Service
Aida grew very uncomfortable upon entering the kitchens. Not only was there an unsettling feeling in her stomach, lanced with pain, but now she was now inside an enclosed and bustling space packed with house elves. Regardless of the height of the ceilings or the distance of the walls, the sheer number of wriggling bodies in the room’s oppressive heat and the obstacles of many tables felt as if they were pressing in on her. Then there were the house elves themselves, which instinctively filled Aida with a deep animalic dread. It was not that the elves were non-human creatures, no – if anything that made Aida want to care for them automatically. The problem was the profound association she held between house elves and slavery. Even if all of the elves at Hogwarts were free and decently paid, the aura of servitude still hung thick in the air and Aida knew her history on more than a simple intellectual level. Nothing on Earth made Aida’s skin crawl as badly as slavery, and even if the scene before her was supposed to be a completely innocent example of cooking and employment, the animal inside of Aida did not want to be here. Her head began spinning from the lingering smells of cooked meat and kidneys from earlier in the day. This was a bad place, she felt. Why am I here? I must have underestimated, or… how did I get here? How did I know about that painting? I want tea, somehow, but… none of this makes sense. Aida felt a lurch between her mind and her body as she swooned with a feeling similar to that of putting on someone else's glasses. Aida felt like she was missing time. I thought that… it was just past noon… what... Her heart full of a feeling similar to resonance, Aida staggered forward a little and suddenly her eyes met those of an earnest little house elf.
"Mòrsgor-Ama Ellwood... You should not be here, too dangerous..." she heard the house elf say through her haze. It was a beautiful creature but Aida felt sick after her initial instinct of admiration. It looked eager to please – kind, even. This is not right. Aida looked around and saw Alexander nearby. Instantly her heart jumped. I don’t remember coming with Alexander, but he is here with me. What is happening to me? For a split second Aida suspected Alexander of poisoning her, but that was ridiculous. She knew he would never want her to be sick. The thought was cast out as rapidly as it had occurred. Aida closed her eyes as she was prone to do when she was overwhelmed by a bout of claustrophobia, which seemed to be happening more and more frequently these days. The darkness was some comfort, but she could still smell the house elves and the food. She could still hear the bodies all squirming throughout the room. She felt eyes upon her. Shoving her hand into her pocket, Aida grasped the small knife she usually used to cut fruit. Simply holding it there in her pocket made her feel slightly more at ease and she opened her eyes. Aida scanned for anything amiss. She wanted to speak to Alexander but no words came out.
Mentions: @Alexander Varellion
Primary Action: Scanning her environment for anything out of place
Character stats:
Stamina✵ 5, Evasion✵ 5, Strength✵ 4, Wisdom✵ 8, Arcane Power✵ 9, Accuracy✵ 4
Last edited by Aida Mòrsgor-Ama Ellwood on 15 May 2020, 08:11, edited 3 times in total.
10 May 2020, 09:43
Tainted Service
Alexander walked into the kitchen following Aida inside. Swaying slightly on his feet. He had to contain himself from barfing on the ground. That would be quite impolite to do in the kitchen with all the food around. Alexander's eyes grew as he saw the dozens of house elves who were spread around the kitchen.
He had read of them in Hogwarts a History but to see them in person......
Alexander took a moment to look around and he was impressed by the kitchen. It was huge based purely on surface area almost identical to the great hall. Then the heat hit him and Alexander leaned a little against one of the tables. Normally he liked the heat and was quite tolerant to it, however, today combined with the nausea it had a far less positive effect.
He then saw how a house-elf approached him. One who promptly introduced himself as Canbey. And who was kind enough to offer him food. Though Alexander wanted pretty much anything but food, what with almost throwing up at any moment.
Which would have been a better course of action as it could remove part of the potion from his body. Though Alexander did not know that.
Alexander spoke to the house-elf with an almost raspy voice.
"Thank you Canbey for the offer. But I think I'd like some soothing tea. My stomach is killing me right now." As he said so he sweated quite a bit. Either from the nausea, the heat, or both.
He hoped the tea would help. He himself was not that much of a tea lover but he heard that it had some calming properties. Which was precisely what he needed right now.
He had read of them in Hogwarts a History but to see them in person......
Alexander took a moment to look around and he was impressed by the kitchen. It was huge based purely on surface area almost identical to the great hall. Then the heat hit him and Alexander leaned a little against one of the tables. Normally he liked the heat and was quite tolerant to it, however, today combined with the nausea it had a far less positive effect.
He then saw how a house-elf approached him. One who promptly introduced himself as Canbey. And who was kind enough to offer him food. Though Alexander wanted pretty much anything but food, what with almost throwing up at any moment.
Which would have been a better course of action as it could remove part of the potion from his body. Though Alexander did not know that.
Alexander spoke to the house-elf with an almost raspy voice.
"Thank you Canbey for the offer. But I think I'd like some soothing tea. My stomach is killing me right now." As he said so he sweated quite a bit. Either from the nausea, the heat, or both.
He hoped the tea would help. He himself was not that much of a tea lover but he heard that it had some calming properties. Which was precisely what he needed right now.
Actions: Attempting not to throw up and asking for tea
Memory is all we are. Moments and feelings, captured in amber, strung on filaments of reason. Take a man’s memories and you take all of him. Chip away a memory at a time and you destroy him as surely as if you hammered nail after nail through his skull
13 May 2020, 08:59
Tainted Service
-It wasn't like she made it a habit sneaking into places she wasn't supposed to be . That was her brother's job. But, well, at this point, did the Kitchens even count as somewhere she wasn't supposed to be? She'd already been there more than once. The House Elves were laughably ready to help—she didn't have much to offer on an opinion regarding the servicing behavior, she supposed this might just be part of their instinct or something, but it was one of the very few things she'd resolved not to spend too much time thinking about—and there was no better place to suffer a stomachache than here. Not like they were going to judge her. Maybe one would know where to find a hot water bottle or something, if tea didn't do the trick, which it usually did.
She hadn't wanted to climb the stairs all the way to the Hospital Wing for something that would probably go away in a little bit. Then again, maybe there was something else wrong too—she felt... hazy. Disconcerted. If it got much worse, maybe climbing those stairs would be worth it. After three years, she'd gotten used to the stairways in Hogwarts as much as anyone, but still... they were a little annoying sometimes.
When she tickled the pear and slipped inside, she wasn't expecting to see anybody else. But there they were—two youngsters, maybe first years, one with a remarkable shock of white hair—albino, apparently, like her former dormmate had been—and one blonde and looking just as queasy as she felt. Cel herself didn't show sickness well—the only sign she was feeling unwell was a slight furrow of her brow, perhaps the downturn of her mouth, but her skin was pallid enough as it was naturally, and beyond a slight bend in her posture, her gait stayed true as always... at least for now. Jesus, what'd happened? Why was her stomach so upset? Did she eat something she shouldn't have? It didn't feel like gas or indigestion, either.
Too hazy to overhear what the two other students were here for, the girl darted for one of the tables, sitting down on the edge of the bench for support as another wave of nausea washed over her in such a way that sent prickles of discomfort down her spine. She barely registered the tug on her shirt. "Huh? Oh," she muttered belatedly, her language uncharacteristically scrambled instead of precise and well-worded. "I... think I must've eaten something bad, my stomach's been... unpleasant..." If that wasn't an understatement of the year—each wave of pain seemed worse than the last. If this kept up, she wasn't sure she would be able to drag herself up to the Hospital Wing at all. She was regretting this decision more by the second. "Do you have some... some tea or something else good for stomachaches?"STAMINA 5
EVASION 8
STRENGTH 2
WISDOM 11
ARCPOWER 10
ACCURACY 9
ABILITIES Prodigial DADA and Perfectionist I awaiting approval.ACTIONS none except asking for tea-
16 May 2020, 23:32
Tainted Service
Celynne Gray, Aida Mòrsgor-Ama Ellwood, Alexander Varellion
A great many things were out of place here in these kitchens. Would Aida Mòrsgor-Ama Ellwood notice?
The house elf would tug the arm of a scampering house elf. "Get the young master some tea," Canbey perhaps the doyen house elf. Giving orders rather than taking them. He seemed intelligent, not that there kind were incapable of cleverness.
Poor Celynne Gray, she always had a bit of a sick look to her. Frail and fragile, she was not one for dramatics. She would find a place to rest her weary form. Her legs were a bit sore, unbeknownst to her she had started to make the climb to the nurses' office already, in fact more than once before she had gotten herself turned around. The soles of her feet also ached. The elves were not cooking, they were chopping and they were stirring but they were also watching the trio out of the corner of their eye.
A great many things were out of place here in these kitchens. Would Aida Mòrsgor-Ama Ellwood notice?
Roll: 15
 ============================== | Indeed, she would see it. In fact she was already catching on to it. These gaps in time. As if the day had folded onto itself. It was making her queasy. The house elves were staring at her with big eyes, still busying themselves about the kitchen. There was one who had addressed her, however she had nothing to say in reply. Little did she know, she had likely been here before. In fact, there was a partially consumed cup of juice on the corner of a table. Three in fact. Alexander Varellion wobbled behind the albino. The offer of food politely declined, just a spot of tea. "Ah of course young master Varellion, drinks. Foolish Canbey, you preferred drinks." Another elf would take away the trio of abandoned glasses of what appeared to be juice. "Sit-sit," the house elf encouraged with an innocent smile as he padded the table with their palm. there was no bench to sit on, this was a space that was not intended for eating. |
The house elf would tug the arm of a scampering house elf. "Get the young master some tea," Canbey perhaps the doyen house elf. Giving orders rather than taking them. He seemed intelligent, not that there kind were incapable of cleverness.
Poor Celynne Gray, she always had a bit of a sick look to her. Frail and fragile, she was not one for dramatics. She would find a place to rest her weary form. Her legs were a bit sore, unbeknownst to her she had started to make the climb to the nurses' office already, in fact more than once before she had gotten herself turned around. The soles of her feet also ached. The elves were not cooking, they were chopping and they were stirring but they were also watching the trio out of the corner of their eye.
| ============================== | The clatter of a trio of glasses and a small pot of tea, several vibrant green leaves floated in the slightly verdant fluid. "Mint," the Canbey would preemptively state as the house elf that delivered the tea would place a glass in front of each of them and wordlessly fill the glasses two-thirds full. "Drink the tea and feel better again." the house elf proclaimed. Another House Elf would make their way to the entrance and stand at the edge of the doorway. |
There is something about ambition, how it not only propels you but also defines you.
17 May 2020, 05:23
Tainted Service
Aida noticed Celynne when she entered, and glancing at her and Alexander, Aida wrinkled her nose. Breathing in deep, Aida caught wind of a mystery, which boosted her morale despite still feeling ill. “You guys are sick too, eh? How did you know how to get in here?” she asked, recognizing Celynne as an upperclassman in her own house of Ravenclaw, though not remembering interacting much with her before. Aida did not like that they were all ill and somehow in the same unusual place at the same time without a good explanation. “I know some antidotes to poison, if you think that's what's wrong. However, I lack components.”
Cocking her head ever so slightly and narrowing her eyes, Aida continued to feel it – that disturbing feeling that she had lost something. Not just several professors, not just her memory, but in fact time. The feeling of resonance in her heart stirred again. Canbey was bringing tea, but Aida had lost her interest in it now that she had a mystery to solve, even if she were to remain just as sick. “Excuse me, dear Canbey,” said Aida politely, who had regained her automatic affection for non-humans as her wave of claustrophobia ebbed. She had decided to ignore the servile atmosphere as best she could even though it made her skin crawl. “Do you know what time it is? What day it is?” It was a basic enough question, Aida supposed, and might seem about as out of place as talking about the weather with any stranger. But was he a stranger? “And if you’ll excuse me for asking, how do you know all our names?”
Aida looked around, now a bit suspicious. She watched an elf at the corner of the table taking away three glasses which appeared to contain partially-consumed juice. Making a mental note of their number, three, Aida was about to look around some more when she stopped herself. It still bothered her that three students had suddenly showed up in the kitchen without a known explanation.
Canbey gestured at the table and indicated for them to sit. Yet, however rude it may have been for Aida to remain in the walkway and interfere with the flow of kitchen work, the flighty animal inside her felt that table was a place where animals were chopped up. Sitting on the table would have felt very disturbing to Aida. In fact, the sound of chopping filled the air, possibly heightening Aida’s paranoia.
When Canbey had drawn Aida’s attention to the tables, she concluded they were preparation areas due to their lack of chairs. Actually, it seemed out of place that the elves would be eating or drinking here, leaving glasses laying about. Had the three of them just drank those juices, leading them to be sick? Aida had no reason to believe it was actually due to some tainted blueberries from the professors’ table, and honestly this juice idea did not feel like a very satisfying theory since it really did not explain the sense of lost time. However, Aida was grasping for some reason for why she would be here and sick. “Excuse me sir, do elves usually drink juice while at work here in the kitchen? Are those yours?” she said, addressing the elf taking the cups away.
Just then, another elf brought tea along with three cups. Mint, apparently. Aida crossed her arms and rolled her head back, considering all uses of mint she had learned during her studies of herbology, on the ranch, in the library, and in class. As a budding naturalist, Aida made it her business to learn as much as she could about things in the natural world, but it was possible that there were properties to mint she did not know about. Thus, Aida knew that mint was used as a remedy for the fire-breathing potion and for mad dog bites, but she concluded that the effects of mint in her current situation would be no better than a good placebo at best. Perhaps it was rude to refuse, but Aida noticed another house elf walking over to the entrance in order to simply stand at the doorway. Potentially blocking an exit was an excellent way to get a claustrophobe upset enough to not drink tea when it was offered, even if it was all a product of a delusional sickness-induced paranoia. Was she insane? Certainly the last few days could have brought her over the edge. Would it matter? Not if the exit were blocked, growled the claustrophobia inside her.
There was a thrumming in Aida’s chest. It was like a guitar string that, when plucked, oscillated faster around its centerpoint as the string slowed, regaining equilibrium with the rest of the instrument. Aida closed her eyes and focused all of her non-visual senses on her surroundings, trusting that the others would be her eyes.
Cocking her head ever so slightly and narrowing her eyes, Aida continued to feel it – that disturbing feeling that she had lost something. Not just several professors, not just her memory, but in fact time. The feeling of resonance in her heart stirred again. Canbey was bringing tea, but Aida had lost her interest in it now that she had a mystery to solve, even if she were to remain just as sick. “Excuse me, dear Canbey,” said Aida politely, who had regained her automatic affection for non-humans as her wave of claustrophobia ebbed. She had decided to ignore the servile atmosphere as best she could even though it made her skin crawl. “Do you know what time it is? What day it is?” It was a basic enough question, Aida supposed, and might seem about as out of place as talking about the weather with any stranger. But was he a stranger? “And if you’ll excuse me for asking, how do you know all our names?”
Aida looked around, now a bit suspicious. She watched an elf at the corner of the table taking away three glasses which appeared to contain partially-consumed juice. Making a mental note of their number, three, Aida was about to look around some more when she stopped herself. It still bothered her that three students had suddenly showed up in the kitchen without a known explanation.
Canbey gestured at the table and indicated for them to sit. Yet, however rude it may have been for Aida to remain in the walkway and interfere with the flow of kitchen work, the flighty animal inside her felt that table was a place where animals were chopped up. Sitting on the table would have felt very disturbing to Aida. In fact, the sound of chopping filled the air, possibly heightening Aida’s paranoia.
When Canbey had drawn Aida’s attention to the tables, she concluded they were preparation areas due to their lack of chairs. Actually, it seemed out of place that the elves would be eating or drinking here, leaving glasses laying about. Had the three of them just drank those juices, leading them to be sick? Aida had no reason to believe it was actually due to some tainted blueberries from the professors’ table, and honestly this juice idea did not feel like a very satisfying theory since it really did not explain the sense of lost time. However, Aida was grasping for some reason for why she would be here and sick. “Excuse me sir, do elves usually drink juice while at work here in the kitchen? Are those yours?” she said, addressing the elf taking the cups away.
Just then, another elf brought tea along with three cups. Mint, apparently. Aida crossed her arms and rolled her head back, considering all uses of mint she had learned during her studies of herbology, on the ranch, in the library, and in class. As a budding naturalist, Aida made it her business to learn as much as she could about things in the natural world, but it was possible that there were properties to mint she did not know about. Thus, Aida knew that mint was used as a remedy for the fire-breathing potion and for mad dog bites, but she concluded that the effects of mint in her current situation would be no better than a good placebo at best. Perhaps it was rude to refuse, but Aida noticed another house elf walking over to the entrance in order to simply stand at the doorway. Potentially blocking an exit was an excellent way to get a claustrophobe upset enough to not drink tea when it was offered, even if it was all a product of a delusional sickness-induced paranoia. Was she insane? Certainly the last few days could have brought her over the edge. Would it matter? Not if the exit were blocked, growled the claustrophobia inside her.
There was a thrumming in Aida’s chest. It was like a guitar string that, when plucked, oscillated faster around its centerpoint as the string slowed, regaining equilibrium with the rest of the instrument. Aida closed her eyes and focused all of her non-visual senses on her surroundings, trusting that the others would be her eyes.
Mentions: @Alexander Varellion @Celynne Gray
Primary action: focusing her non-visual senses on examining the environment
Ability: Blindvision
Inventory: a pocket knife that basically never left her side, and probably her wand
Character stats:
Stamina✵ 5, Evasion✵ 5, Strength✵ 4, Wisdom✵ 8, Arcane Power✵ 9, Accuracy✵ 4
Color code: #351C75 (Persian Indigo)
19 May 2020, 09:25
Tainted Service
As Alexander listened to Canbrey and looked around the kitchen he slowly felt goosebumps rise along his arms and legs. This general chill, even though Alexander was in a warm room.
And this time he was sure that it was not because he felt sick, well mostly sure.
He just felt as if something was inherently wrong here. As if something bad was going to happen at any moment. As he looked around he could see the eyes of the many house-elves watching them.
Alexander especially felt this sense of wrongness when Cambrey put some emphasis on tea. And then there was that one quote. One that brought Alexander's senses from fear and weariness to almost a sense of dread.
'Drink the tea and feel better again.'
The quote could just have been an inherent concern, genuine wish to help.
But combined will all the other factors that were in this room Alexander could not help but take it in another context. A far worse and darker context. feel better again. It could imply something far different than simply aiding his stomach ache.
And as a cherry on top of the pie, he saw how a house-elf moved to the exit door. Blocking any escape.
And as such, with all of this danger, Alexander straightened himself up and gave a warm smile. A seemingly carefree smile. A smile that masked Alexander's inner dread. The same mask he often used during the tense family meetings before his family moved to England. But now this mask was more important than ever.
If the elves believed that he was falling into a sense of security then he might have the benefit of surprise.
Then Alexander thought about some way that he could refuse the tea without gaining some suspicion. Then he realized something and Alexander's smile grew wider. Though it was not one with an affectionate reason.
Alexander then spoke. A saddened and embarrassed look on his face. With Alexander's mind wandering to an embarrassing memory of accidentally answering a question in school when he was not asked. "Oh Cambrey I am so sorry. I am allergic to mint. I should probably have said that beforehand." and Alexander gained a genuine regretful look.
Though the regret was actually for going here to grab some tea. He should probably grab something else for what he was feeling. "I think it'd be better if I just grabbed some water and returned to my dorm room" This was an important question. If Cambrey allowed him to leave then it was a way to make sure that he did not have negative intentions. However, if Cambrey actually inspired that he stayed here. Then he could be almost sure that there were negative intentions.
Cambrey would probably give some reason such as concern for Alexander, but it would in effect be a way for Alexander to stay in the kitchen. To be in a location where Cambrey had control, his personal domain.
Then Alexander looked to Aida. Realizing that she was also there and heard her talk about how he got in here...
and that was actually a good question... He was not sure. He had never been here before. He thought he had seen someone enter here before. But he did not remember who or how he had learned why or how to tickle the pear.
Maybe he had read it in Hogwarts a history ? Alexander then looked at Aida and thought about a way that he could tell her that. He then had an idea, though it was obscure so he was not sure that Aida would get it. Even he had trouble reminding what page was what. "I found out about the entrance in Hogwarts a history. Page 290 something or somewhere around page....... 430" Page 294 of Hogwarts a history was the start of the chapter in which the conflict between the founders was described. Perhaps Aida would understand that there was some conflict brewing. Page 432 was the chapter of Hogwarts during the Goblin rebellions. A way to describe that there was something wrong with the house-elves.
Alexander then looked around the room. Looking at it tactically. How he and the rest could fight against a majority of house-elves. And seeing if there were any anomalies that could prove to their advantage or disadvantage.
And this time he was sure that it was not because he felt sick, well mostly sure.
He just felt as if something was inherently wrong here. As if something bad was going to happen at any moment. As he looked around he could see the eyes of the many house-elves watching them.
Alexander especially felt this sense of wrongness when Cambrey put some emphasis on tea. And then there was that one quote. One that brought Alexander's senses from fear and weariness to almost a sense of dread.
'Drink the tea and feel better again.'
The quote could just have been an inherent concern, genuine wish to help.
But combined will all the other factors that were in this room Alexander could not help but take it in another context. A far worse and darker context. feel better again. It could imply something far different than simply aiding his stomach ache.
And as a cherry on top of the pie, he saw how a house-elf moved to the exit door. Blocking any escape.
And as such, with all of this danger, Alexander straightened himself up and gave a warm smile. A seemingly carefree smile. A smile that masked Alexander's inner dread. The same mask he often used during the tense family meetings before his family moved to England. But now this mask was more important than ever.
If the elves believed that he was falling into a sense of security then he might have the benefit of surprise.
Then Alexander thought about some way that he could refuse the tea without gaining some suspicion. Then he realized something and Alexander's smile grew wider. Though it was not one with an affectionate reason.
Alexander then spoke. A saddened and embarrassed look on his face. With Alexander's mind wandering to an embarrassing memory of accidentally answering a question in school when he was not asked. "Oh Cambrey I am so sorry. I am allergic to mint. I should probably have said that beforehand." and Alexander gained a genuine regretful look.
Though the regret was actually for going here to grab some tea. He should probably grab something else for what he was feeling. "I think it'd be better if I just grabbed some water and returned to my dorm room" This was an important question. If Cambrey allowed him to leave then it was a way to make sure that he did not have negative intentions. However, if Cambrey actually inspired that he stayed here. Then he could be almost sure that there were negative intentions.
Cambrey would probably give some reason such as concern for Alexander, but it would in effect be a way for Alexander to stay in the kitchen. To be in a location where Cambrey had control, his personal domain.
Then Alexander looked to Aida. Realizing that she was also there and heard her talk about how he got in here...
and that was actually a good question... He was not sure. He had never been here before. He thought he had seen someone enter here before. But he did not remember who or how he had learned why or how to tickle the pear.
Maybe he had read it in Hogwarts a history ? Alexander then looked at Aida and thought about a way that he could tell her that. He then had an idea, though it was obscure so he was not sure that Aida would get it. Even he had trouble reminding what page was what. "I found out about the entrance in Hogwarts a history. Page 290 something or somewhere around page....... 430" Page 294 of Hogwarts a history was the start of the chapter in which the conflict between the founders was described. Perhaps Aida would understand that there was some conflict brewing. Page 432 was the chapter of Hogwarts during the Goblin rebellions. A way to describe that there was something wrong with the house-elves.
Alexander then looked around the room. Looking at it tactically. How he and the rest could fight against a majority of house-elves. And seeing if there were any anomalies that could prove to their advantage or disadvantage.
Mentions: @Aida Mòrsgor-Ama Ellwood
Action(s): Looking around the room. Looking for anomalies or things the students could use to their advantage or what they should avoid in a fight.
Abilities: Evasive Maneuvers.
Memory is all we are. Moments and feelings, captured in amber, strung on filaments of reason. Take a man’s memories and you take all of him. Chip away a memory at a time and you destroy him as surely as if you hammered nail after nail through his skull
20 May 2020, 06:10
Tainted Service
-Haze. Hazy, hazy, hazy. Her mind whirlpooled, her vision fuzzed. What was going on? The girl held her head, waiting for a wave of nausea to pass. Something unpleasant curled at the back of her mind, something suspicious and wary. She knew this feeling... she'd felt it before. And she'd thought she'd be free of it since her absence at school—she hadn't had an episode since she recovered from her sickness at home. Was this another episode? Or was this the remnants of her sickness, lying in wait? No... it couldn't be the latter, the symptoms were different. And it couldn't be the prior, either—try as she might, she saw nothing in front of her. What was wrong with her?
She didn't notice anything yet, too focused on introspective thoughts, thoughts forming sluggish and dizzying in her mind. Ebbing... flowing... ebbing... flowing again... she seemed to grasp feebly at them, weakened by the state of her shattered memories. And when the mint tea was presented before her, she took hold of it gratefully, even as goosebumps crawled up her spine. You'd think she was more careful than that. "Thank you, Canbey," was a whisper that barely passed through her lips, too focused on catching one of the flyaway clouds whirling around in her head to give him a more forceful answer. "Did you guys eat something bad, too?" Her voice was weak, weak enough that it was barely audible, but loud enough to be carried over the clanking of kitchen utensils and footsteps of elves.
Her mind calmed again. Deep breaths, in and out, the scent of mint helping her calm. She peered over the teacup, just now realizing how sore her legs were. Her feet, which were sore only after a little while of walking, but—even that wasn't as short as walking to the Kitchens. Frowning, she examined the room, finally letting the unease grow.
And still, with this suspicion, this growing alarm, she didn't even stop to think... of what she might be holding in her hands, didn't think of what the tea, promising healing, could have contained. Perhaps it was harmless, but it was a detail overlooked. As she spotted the elf moving discreetly to the doorway, she raised a brow just so, tilting her head a little. But even that detail wasn't enough to persuade her to call off the mission of raising the cup to her face, bowing her head to the edge of the glass.
Cel sipped.STAMINA 5
EVASION 8
STRENGTH 2
WISDOM 11
ARCPOWER 10
ACCURACY 9
ABILITIES Prodigial DADA and Perfectionist IACTIONS sip tea, perception check-
4 Jun 2020, 22:39
Tainted Service
Participants: @Aida Mòrsgor-Ama Ellwood, @Alexander Varellion, and @Celynne Gray
There was a crescendoing sense of apprehension and uncertainty. The children were feeling restless and this primal sense within them was screaming for them to run, to watch and to not trust these elves. The mind is a funny thing, it likes order and purpose. Right now, they had lost order. Even when the days are left in a haze of grey, only echoes of truth in their wake, memories are made to explain the inconsistencies. Right now, their heads might be throbbing. This was not right. This was not where they belonged. A dose of reality can do this.
“Do you know what time it is? What day it is?”
"Three o'clock Miss," Canbey replied. Could it be that late? What time was lunch? Noon'ish. They would eat and then... where did she go after? She could search her memories for an answer. The library perhaps? Maybe the Ravenclaw Common Room? The mind tries to fill these gaps with her routine whatever it might be. If it was spending time with a friend. If it was taking a quiet hour for herself. But what happened? Why was she here? That was the disconnect. This was a moment of lucidity in what was otherwise a haze. "You seem troubled, let Canbey help you," there was a long look from some of the house elves contemporaries but they would rush off and busy themselves by the hearth and scouring already clean pots.
“Excuse me sir, do elves usually drink juice while at work here in the kitchen? Are those yours?"
It sounded like an accusation. House elves were compliant and obsequious to their masters, whomever they might be if the continued the legacy of service of their forebears but they were not sycophants. "Heaven forfend we drink juice at work," one of the house elves commented. Was that sarcasm? Yes, it was. A bit ruddier a complexion and Canbey, perhaps a bit older also but it was hard to tell.
That time that passes day to day that is unspent and left unrealized was never meant to be noticed, it was meant to be forever lost. The Elves were free but most were not particularly pleased with their current state of affairs. They took pride in their role and saw themselves as part of the -why-. The reason for their master's status and success. Through them much was possible. They nurtured and watched their charges grow. In a transactional relationship where there is payment for service, their credit is lost. Their purpose destroyed.
“And if you’ll excuse me for asking, how do you know all our names?”
Aida would ask. "The same way you know Canbey's," the elf answered. It did not explain much. Or did it? The house elves had been here all year. They were likely here last year and the year before as well. Why wouldn't they know the students. Why didn't they recognize them?
Surrounded by House Elves in a strangely familiar yet tense situation. Alexander had caught something, perhaps a mistake on the part of the House Elves - the word 'again.' What did that mean? They had not made them feel better before. Sure, they saw the house elves throughout the castle tidying the offices and the classes, dusting the great candelabras and moving stairs. Fastidious and efficient, they were rarely seen and much less heard. In addition, how did he find his way into the kitchens in the first place? How did he know to tickle the pear? Had he been here before? An overwhelming sense of Déjà Vu. It was not madness. It was not his mind playing tricks. He had been here before.
He and Aida both noticed a house elf make their way to the entryway. Hardly intimidating in stature, a small, short body with long gangly arms and an over-sized head with long, pointed bat-like ears. However the implication was enough. They were outnumbered and perhaps trapped. He would decline any tea offered and mention specific page numbers to Aida. He was perhaps a bit reaching to give out page numbers in the form of a clue. While the girl was a Ravenclaw, remembering specific page numbers or even the order of the information was a stretch but it was what he came up with.
Celynne would take a sip of her tea. The water warm and slightly sweet, the tea slightly grassy but not off-putting as the mint touched her tongue. The mint soothed her parched mouth, as it traveled down her throat as a slight trickle she would feel a warmth. It did not burn. Once it settled into her stomach, the queasiness would settle almost immediately. That being the good and intended effect, however she would also feel tired. Not that there was no fatigue before, but rather as the anxiety and apprehension left her she would feel the lassitude set in.
She would attempt to use her other senses, attempt to glean something additional from her setting. But the rattle of pots and pans was an expected noise. The stew simmering in a pot filled the air with a herbaceous scent. The warmth of the kitchens expected. She would notice nothing more.Aida rolls for observation: 7
That unsettling feeling was not going away. He would notice a chance in Celynne, her pose would be looser. Not as tight. Yes, they had an unusual interest in the tea. There was one blocking the door. However they were not asking the right questions: what is there to gain by the House Elves? Conversely, are they jumping to conclusions? Perhaps the House Elves are unwitting pawns. Maybe, but there is always a rationale.Alexander rolls for observation: 18
What can be gained over forgetting? Being disoriented?
Was this the first time he forgot or had this happened before! How old was Alex? [He was in school in 2018 link] He was but a first year. What happened? Why. Think boy! Remember what you have missed! You have forgotten more than you have remembered. Faces, names, places and people, all forgotten. You have been here longer than you know!
Cel felt different. Better. Good. No, neither of these things. She felt... nothing in particular. No urgency, no fear. A sense of calm. However, that in and of itself did not seem right. Not to her logical mind. While her emotions were not pushing her forward, her inquisitive nature lingered a bit longer. What was she thinking about? Worrying about? The kitchen... This is not the library or the pages of an encyclopedia. No-no, there was something. Something important here. She had been worried about something and now she stopped being worried. Something was important, but her brain was not working right.Celynne rolls for observation: 19
Cel has realized that she is forgetting. She would feel certain that she has been drugged. A terrifying concept because the drug was making her forget. She was not going to remember that she remembered for long...
There is something about ambition, how it not only propels you but also defines you.
5 Jun 2020, 11:03
Tainted Service
Alexander was looking at Aida, seeming as if he was about to speak. Then he seemed to think some more and then looked back up at her. When he did speak, he did not sound like normal Alexander. His voice itself was pretty basic and would probably seem normal to anyone who did not know him well, but something about it caused Aida to close her eyes to focus on his words. She imagined she was in a pitch black cave where geometry only came through her non-visual senses. This time it was not because of claustrophobia, however. This time was much more like when, at the Blossom Ball, Aida and Alexander were shrouded by a smokescreen and Aida had to use her gift to know her way around. Aida’s Blindvision worked not simply by elevating her non-visual senses, but also by calling upon what became a nearly photographic memory of where things were in space. In the quidditch stands when the lights went out, she remembered where the risers were, where the exit was. It was as if she could see. Aida always held the cave’s gift close to her heart, and it would come to her aid in the most unexpected ways sometimes.
Aida did not have a genius memory for numbers the way some rare individuals did. She could not remember every date of every event she had ever encountered. However, Aida did have an unusually strong grasp of where things were in space when she could no longer see them. For this reason, Aida did not remember the page numbers of Hogwarts: A History, and she wondered whether Alexander knew the precise page numbers either. However, she did know quite well where physically in a book any given section was, and since she knew about how thick 100 pages were, Aida was able to discern Alexander’s general directions. A conflict between the founders. The goblin rebellions. Those things had nothing to do with tickling a pear or the kitchens, that much was certain. It had to be a code. Aida and Alexander had talked earlier, out by the oak tree, about how history had a tendency to repeat itself. He must have been hinting at something… but what could it be? The goblin rebellions involved attempted slavery, wand prohibition, and a generally oppressive hegemony of wizards over goblins. Yet, Alexander was clearly referring to the present situation rather than some random homework assignment. The founders could be code for Hogwarts faculty and staff, while the goblins could have symbolized house elves. What did Alexander know? Were Hogwarts staff oppressing house elves, much as goblins were oppressed in earlier times? Something about that did not seem quite right. With her ever burning interest in creatures and her obsession with liberty, Aida had naturally read about the disappointments of S.P.E.W. and the inability of activists to see from the perspective of house elf culture. Aida grew confused. What was the problem then? The young white witch sighed and looked back at Alexander. If her violet eyes could speak, they were saying that she understood somewhat but was still confused. Aida arched her back and crossed her arms in thought. Were the house elves rebelling somehow? Is that why the atmosphere was so strange and seemingly hostile?
The house elves replied to Aida’s questions with an attitude that was not just a little tart. Canbey’s comment was the least helpful. The reason Aida knew Canbey’s name was because he continued to repeat his name almost every time he spoke. This was a behavior that was common enough in house elves, saying one's own name when speaking, as if an uncaring master would forget the elf's name if not constantly reminded. For a split second Aida surmised, if you had a poor memory you might never know if you had met one of the house elves before because you would constantly be re-exposed to its name... but that was just a colorful flight of her restless mind. Certainly she did not know Canbey's name in the same way he would know hers because she did not repeat her own name basically every time she spoke. It was ostensible that the often-hidden elves would have overheard her name somewhere, but she did not find that very probable since she spent all of her free hours outside, away from these... walls...
The young witch did not tolerate snide remarks well; in her youth, attitude like she was receiving now was usually a red flag that preceded a violent outburst. Furthermore, Aida did not like it when her questions went unanswered, particularly when she felt they were purposefully dodged. Two questions received no shadow of an answer at all, and the rest of her questions were answered with much snark and little actual meaning she could comprehend. Aida had tried hard to be polite, and she had actually used a rather sweet tone due to her natural affection for non-humans. However, the number of things about these house elves that rubbed her the wrong way was growing like an infection. The worst of these aggravations was one blocking the doorway, no matter how tall. The girl’s claustrophobia certainly contributed to her aggravation, not to mention to the stomach pain and general sense of danger. Seeing movement out of the corner of her eye, Aida looked over at Celynne drinking the tea… but the oppression of the room was beginning to press in on her again in a serious way. She could not focus anymore. The clanging of pans, the smell coming from that simmering pot… it was growing nauseating again. Aida would not observe anything further about Celynne’s action as she tried to restrain her animal terror of being penned in.
Aida still felt a deep illness from the sense of time folding in on itself. She needed to get out if she was going to maintain some semblance of politeness... Now... Aida needed to excuse herself now, especially moving that blockage from the exit. Yet, a gravity was holding her back. Aida looked back over at Alexander, then Celynne. She could not leave them. No. She would not have to. If she could just remove this blockage from the door, she would feel well enough to stay. She would stand in the doorway and guard it for her friends. There were just too many warm, smelly bodies in here. The doorway must have some kind of respite. Somehow it would make her feel better.
Aida began to move towards the door, but suddenly there was a commotion behind her...
Aida did not have a genius memory for numbers the way some rare individuals did. She could not remember every date of every event she had ever encountered. However, Aida did have an unusually strong grasp of where things were in space when she could no longer see them. For this reason, Aida did not remember the page numbers of Hogwarts: A History, and she wondered whether Alexander knew the precise page numbers either. However, she did know quite well where physically in a book any given section was, and since she knew about how thick 100 pages were, Aida was able to discern Alexander’s general directions. A conflict between the founders. The goblin rebellions. Those things had nothing to do with tickling a pear or the kitchens, that much was certain. It had to be a code. Aida and Alexander had talked earlier, out by the oak tree, about how history had a tendency to repeat itself. He must have been hinting at something… but what could it be? The goblin rebellions involved attempted slavery, wand prohibition, and a generally oppressive hegemony of wizards over goblins. Yet, Alexander was clearly referring to the present situation rather than some random homework assignment. The founders could be code for Hogwarts faculty and staff, while the goblins could have symbolized house elves. What did Alexander know? Were Hogwarts staff oppressing house elves, much as goblins were oppressed in earlier times? Something about that did not seem quite right. With her ever burning interest in creatures and her obsession with liberty, Aida had naturally read about the disappointments of S.P.E.W. and the inability of activists to see from the perspective of house elf culture. Aida grew confused. What was the problem then? The young white witch sighed and looked back at Alexander. If her violet eyes could speak, they were saying that she understood somewhat but was still confused. Aida arched her back and crossed her arms in thought. Were the house elves rebelling somehow? Is that why the atmosphere was so strange and seemingly hostile?
The house elves replied to Aida’s questions with an attitude that was not just a little tart. Canbey’s comment was the least helpful. The reason Aida knew Canbey’s name was because he continued to repeat his name almost every time he spoke. This was a behavior that was common enough in house elves, saying one's own name when speaking, as if an uncaring master would forget the elf's name if not constantly reminded. For a split second Aida surmised, if you had a poor memory you might never know if you had met one of the house elves before because you would constantly be re-exposed to its name... but that was just a colorful flight of her restless mind. Certainly she did not know Canbey's name in the same way he would know hers because she did not repeat her own name basically every time she spoke. It was ostensible that the often-hidden elves would have overheard her name somewhere, but she did not find that very probable since she spent all of her free hours outside, away from these... walls...
The young witch did not tolerate snide remarks well; in her youth, attitude like she was receiving now was usually a red flag that preceded a violent outburst. Furthermore, Aida did not like it when her questions went unanswered, particularly when she felt they were purposefully dodged. Two questions received no shadow of an answer at all, and the rest of her questions were answered with much snark and little actual meaning she could comprehend. Aida had tried hard to be polite, and she had actually used a rather sweet tone due to her natural affection for non-humans. However, the number of things about these house elves that rubbed her the wrong way was growing like an infection. The worst of these aggravations was one blocking the doorway, no matter how tall. The girl’s claustrophobia certainly contributed to her aggravation, not to mention to the stomach pain and general sense of danger. Seeing movement out of the corner of her eye, Aida looked over at Celynne drinking the tea… but the oppression of the room was beginning to press in on her again in a serious way. She could not focus anymore. The clanging of pans, the smell coming from that simmering pot… it was growing nauseating again. Aida would not observe anything further about Celynne’s action as she tried to restrain her animal terror of being penned in.
Aida still felt a deep illness from the sense of time folding in on itself. She needed to get out if she was going to maintain some semblance of politeness... Now... Aida needed to excuse herself now, especially moving that blockage from the exit. Yet, a gravity was holding her back. Aida looked back over at Alexander, then Celynne. She could not leave them. No. She would not have to. If she could just remove this blockage from the door, she would feel well enough to stay. She would stand in the doorway and guard it for her friends. There were just too many warm, smelly bodies in here. The doorway must have some kind of respite. Somehow it would make her feel better.
Aida began to move towards the door, but suddenly there was a commotion behind her...
Last edited by Aida Mòrsgor-Ama Ellwood on 6 Jun 2020, 03:06, edited 1 time in total.