25 Aug 2020, 04:00
Linked By Darkness
@Opeila Winters
The school year had recently begun and Howard had almost fallen into the same routine that every new year brought. Meal time in the morning, then classes, lunch mid day, more classes, a spot of dinner before free time. It was easy to slip into the blur and usually he would have been more than willing to do so, but this year was different. Gone were the days where he could just let the time slip away. No longer could he fill his days with the inconsequential wants of a boy his age. Perhaps chase a girl, maybe get in a fight just to spice up the day or bash around the Quidditch pitch for a bit of fun. This year he was assigned a task and failure was not an option.
This is what filled Howard’s head as he made his way down the corridor between classes. The task at hand was not one a teenager usually faced. It was no high pressure school project or training for a big game, this was one of life or death. As physically capable as the Dhampir may be, he lacked in knowledge of how to even begin the assignment at hand. What he must retrieve wasn’t an inanimate object, it was living and most importantly of all, it was deadly. Howard was most likely destined to fail, but if he had any hope of survival, he must gain an upper hand.
That is when Howard would stumble forward before throwing out his arm to brace himself against the wall. Looking down he would see a rogue shoelace was the culprit for his misstep. Howard knelt to tie his shoes, his vision drifting off as the throng of the student body pass him by. Then an oddity would catch his eye. A bit of ankle stuck out over a show, surely nothing special here, but this particular ankle was marked in black. It wasn’t dirt or spilled ink, it spread through the flesh like the web of a spider, as if it flowed through the veins themselves.
“Hey! Wait up!” Howard called to the passerby as he jumped up to follow. It was pretty uncharacteristic for the Dhampir, but something about that marking called to him. The way it swirled and spread through her body reminded him of something he had only seen once before. “Can I talk to you for a sec?” He asked as he tapped her shoulder. As she turned, her face would seem familiar. The pair had met briefly over the summer. “Opeila? Right?” Howard asked with a quizzical look. “Can I...um...ask you about that mark on your leg?” The last would be asked just above a whisper as he leaned in a little closer.
The school year had recently begun and Howard had almost fallen into the same routine that every new year brought. Meal time in the morning, then classes, lunch mid day, more classes, a spot of dinner before free time. It was easy to slip into the blur and usually he would have been more than willing to do so, but this year was different. Gone were the days where he could just let the time slip away. No longer could he fill his days with the inconsequential wants of a boy his age. Perhaps chase a girl, maybe get in a fight just to spice up the day or bash around the Quidditch pitch for a bit of fun. This year he was assigned a task and failure was not an option.
This is what filled Howard’s head as he made his way down the corridor between classes. The task at hand was not one a teenager usually faced. It was no high pressure school project or training for a big game, this was one of life or death. As physically capable as the Dhampir may be, he lacked in knowledge of how to even begin the assignment at hand. What he must retrieve wasn’t an inanimate object, it was living and most importantly of all, it was deadly. Howard was most likely destined to fail, but if he had any hope of survival, he must gain an upper hand.
That is when Howard would stumble forward before throwing out his arm to brace himself against the wall. Looking down he would see a rogue shoelace was the culprit for his misstep. Howard knelt to tie his shoes, his vision drifting off as the throng of the student body pass him by. Then an oddity would catch his eye. A bit of ankle stuck out over a show, surely nothing special here, but this particular ankle was marked in black. It wasn’t dirt or spilled ink, it spread through the flesh like the web of a spider, as if it flowed through the veins themselves.
“Hey! Wait up!” Howard called to the passerby as he jumped up to follow. It was pretty uncharacteristic for the Dhampir, but something about that marking called to him. The way it swirled and spread through her body reminded him of something he had only seen once before. “Can I talk to you for a sec?” He asked as he tapped her shoulder. As she turned, her face would seem familiar. The pair had met briefly over the summer. “Opeila? Right?” Howard asked with a quizzical look. “Can I...um...ask you about that mark on your leg?” The last would be asked just above a whisper as he leaned in a little closer.
25 Aug 2020, 23:10
Linked By Darkness
For Opeila the routine of the schooldays had been a welcome distraction, embracing her with it's strangely calming pressure. Opeila had lost a lot in the holidays. Her whole life was just different now and she was glad, that she was at least back in an english speaking country. No more stuttering in broken finnish, which she would still have to learn. But not now. A few weeks of her mothertongue before getting back into other languages.
Opeila noticed that since she was more focused on school, tried to participate in classes more, she always was a lot more hungry at lunchtime. It was not the short time but the grumbling of her stomach that made her hurry through the corridors this day.
Past a group of Ravenclaw girls, a Hufflepuff boy who was tying is shoelaces and- Someone shouted. Opeila only realized that it was her who was being shouted at, when she felt someone tap on her shoulder.
When she turned around, the face was familiar. When she walked past him before, she didn't recognize him, but now she remembered. She sat next to him during the Quidditch Match of Durmstrang and Hufflepuff. And then his friend, the purple-haired crazy girl decided to sit on her and suggest that he drank her blood, since hewas a dhampir. Weird memories, but not particularly good or bad. Mainly... weird. He remembered her as well appaently, at least her name. "Howard. I- Yeah. I guess. What is it?", she responded to his question, relieved that he used her first name. She didn't want to explain her name change again, tell him that she couldn't answer his questions...
Her confused expression disappeared when he asked her about the mark on her leg. The black marks of the spiderbite. The second year looked at the older boy for a moment. "Sure you can. I just wonder if you need to. You know what it is, don't you?" She had been rushing down the corridor, a clueless student would have likely just thought that it was dirt or similar. He ran after her to ask her about it and then only wispered about it? No, he knew at least something. The grumbling stomach was forgotten. "Should we talk about this in a not so crowded place?", she asked him, her voice lowered as well, with a quick look at a group of passing students.
@Howard White
Opeila noticed that since she was more focused on school, tried to participate in classes more, she always was a lot more hungry at lunchtime. It was not the short time but the grumbling of her stomach that made her hurry through the corridors this day.
Past a group of Ravenclaw girls, a Hufflepuff boy who was tying is shoelaces and- Someone shouted. Opeila only realized that it was her who was being shouted at, when she felt someone tap on her shoulder.
When she turned around, the face was familiar. When she walked past him before, she didn't recognize him, but now she remembered. She sat next to him during the Quidditch Match of Durmstrang and Hufflepuff. And then his friend, the purple-haired crazy girl decided to sit on her and suggest that he drank her blood, since hewas a dhampir. Weird memories, but not particularly good or bad. Mainly... weird. He remembered her as well appaently, at least her name. "Howard. I- Yeah. I guess. What is it?", she responded to his question, relieved that he used her first name. She didn't want to explain her name change again, tell him that she couldn't answer his questions...
Her confused expression disappeared when he asked her about the mark on her leg. The black marks of the spiderbite. The second year looked at the older boy for a moment. "Sure you can. I just wonder if you need to. You know what it is, don't you?" She had been rushing down the corridor, a clueless student would have likely just thought that it was dirt or similar. He ran after her to ask her about it and then only wispered about it? No, he knew at least something. The grumbling stomach was forgotten. "Should we talk about this in a not so crowded place?", she asked him, her voice lowered as well, with a quick look at a group of passing students.
@Howard White