12 Apr 2018, 16:05
Ask and Receive
Obsession was an unhealthy thing, as Max was rapidly discovering. When you became obsessed with something, it haunted your dreams and you awoke more tired than you had going to bed the night before. You tried to eat but the thought of your obsession overcame you with a sick excitement that made you push your food away. Things you had used to enjoy - reading, Quidditch, spending time with friends - it all felt so inconsequential in the face of the thing that dominated your thoughts.
Yeah, obsession. Not so hot.
It had started over the Christmas holidays, on a blisteringly cold day when Max had decided to tuck himself away in the family library to study some history. There were an incredible number of books he had yet to read, but one specific book had caught his eye that he was sure hadn't been there the last time he'd been home. Immortality and Other Dark Secrets I've Learned, by L. Avery. Not only had the title given him a start, but the name as well - the only 'L' Avery he knew of was Lucian Avery, one of his great, great uncles or something who had gone to school with Voldemort. In all likelihood a Death Eater.
Flipping through the book, he'd been startled to find that nearly the entire thing was blank. Besides a single page in the middle, no amount of revealing spells or different coloured lights showed anything but blank paper yellowing with age. It was a mystery, but perhaps the most mysterious thing of all was the one page in the middle of the book. It contained a single poem, written in elegant script that bled a bit as if someone's hand had smudged through it while writing before the ink dried.
This brute of a man was once a head,
Until one day going to his final bed,
He now sits with the victor’s stone,
Concealing the way to the forever throne.
If you manage to get by,
Between fourth and third brick you will sigh,
Destruction is the only key.
By Blessed Peacemakers , ask and receive.
United Efforts
He'd read it thrice over and, at that point, couldn't make heads or tails of it. Maybe he could've asked around to see if anyone in his family understood, but for some reason he didn't want to show it to anyone else. So he kept it to himself, and pondered over it for a long while, memorizing it and the bizarre fact that 'Blessed Peacemakers' had been crossed out to be replaced with 'United Efforts.' That in itself seemed to be some clue of deciphering this whole thing, though how he couldn't tell you.
It was only when he'd come back to school that he really started to put things together. First, what 'brute of a man who was once a head' meant. He'd been scanning through a history book about Quidditch when he'd come across the name Brutus Scrimegeous - a former headmaster and beater who'd died many years ago - and the name Brutus had set off victory bells in his head. That was probably the moment his interest had developed into obsession; this poem not only actually meant something, but it must have something to do with Hogwarts.
The rest of the assumptions came naturally and easily; the only place Brutus now sat besides a grave was in a painting, and there were only a couple of them at Hogwarts with him in them. The only place that could mean 'victor's stone' was the trophy room. Mystery solved; he had to get past Brutus's portrait in the trophy room to find the 'forever throne.' The only problem was, he had no clue how to do that.
"Open," he tried commanding the portrait, but it steadfastly ignored him. A couple of the spells he knew and tried didn't do anything either; he knew that if he could just get past this portrait, he would be able to find the fourth and third brick. And the Philosopher's Stone, because that was the only thing he could think of that fit the whole 'immortality' bit. In a final desperate attempt, he pointed his wand at the man blinking blearily at him from the picture, this time planning offensive magic instead of revealing spells. "You'd better open, you bloody portrait, or I'll blast you all the way to Azkaban."
Yeah, obsession. Not so hot.
It had started over the Christmas holidays, on a blisteringly cold day when Max had decided to tuck himself away in the family library to study some history. There were an incredible number of books he had yet to read, but one specific book had caught his eye that he was sure hadn't been there the last time he'd been home. Immortality and Other Dark Secrets I've Learned, by L. Avery. Not only had the title given him a start, but the name as well - the only 'L' Avery he knew of was Lucian Avery, one of his great, great uncles or something who had gone to school with Voldemort. In all likelihood a Death Eater.
Flipping through the book, he'd been startled to find that nearly the entire thing was blank. Besides a single page in the middle, no amount of revealing spells or different coloured lights showed anything but blank paper yellowing with age. It was a mystery, but perhaps the most mysterious thing of all was the one page in the middle of the book. It contained a single poem, written in elegant script that bled a bit as if someone's hand had smudged through it while writing before the ink dried.
This brute of a man was once a head,
Until one day going to his final bed,
He now sits with the victor’s stone,
Concealing the way to the forever throne.
If you manage to get by,
Between fourth and third brick you will sigh,
Destruction is the only key.
By Blessed Peacemakers , ask and receive.
United Efforts
He'd read it thrice over and, at that point, couldn't make heads or tails of it. Maybe he could've asked around to see if anyone in his family understood, but for some reason he didn't want to show it to anyone else. So he kept it to himself, and pondered over it for a long while, memorizing it and the bizarre fact that 'Blessed Peacemakers' had been crossed out to be replaced with 'United Efforts.' That in itself seemed to be some clue of deciphering this whole thing, though how he couldn't tell you.
It was only when he'd come back to school that he really started to put things together. First, what 'brute of a man who was once a head' meant. He'd been scanning through a history book about Quidditch when he'd come across the name Brutus Scrimegeous - a former headmaster and beater who'd died many years ago - and the name Brutus had set off victory bells in his head. That was probably the moment his interest had developed into obsession; this poem not only actually meant something, but it must have something to do with Hogwarts.
The rest of the assumptions came naturally and easily; the only place Brutus now sat besides a grave was in a painting, and there were only a couple of them at Hogwarts with him in them. The only place that could mean 'victor's stone' was the trophy room. Mystery solved; he had to get past Brutus's portrait in the trophy room to find the 'forever throne.' The only problem was, he had no clue how to do that.
"Open," he tried commanding the portrait, but it steadfastly ignored him. A couple of the spells he knew and tried didn't do anything either; he knew that if he could just get past this portrait, he would be able to find the fourth and third brick. And the Philosopher's Stone, because that was the only thing he could think of that fit the whole 'immortality' bit. In a final desperate attempt, he pointed his wand at the man blinking blearily at him from the picture, this time planning offensive magic instead of revealing spells. "You'd better open, you bloody portrait, or I'll blast you all the way to Azkaban."
Last edited by Max Avery on 3 May 2018, 00:59, edited 1 time in total.
"There’s something brittle in me that will break before it bends."
Fearless | Poison Resistance
STA - 7, EV - 5, STR - 1, WIS - 9, ARC - 10, ACC - 8
Fearless | Poison Resistance
STA - 7, EV - 5, STR - 1, WIS - 9, ARC - 10, ACC - 8
12 Apr 2018, 19:20
Ask and Receive
Eris Elcan was angry. Of course, she wasn't normally angry. The Gryffindor prefect was sick and tired of Adam Harringtom. Her stupid ex-best friend, partner in crime, and bully of the year. Everyday they weren't friends anymore, Eris had gone through a multitude of emotions. First sad, than hopeless, then mad, now enraged.
The more she thought about it, the more unfair it seemed that Adam was just ditching her because she had punched one girl in the face. It had been well deserved. She had ruined everything going good in Eris's life. Like her friendships, and her hopes of going to Adam's house over the summer. Now Eris was just a perfect, possibly in danger of losing her position, because of Matilda Barrows's untimely strolling through the hallways. A prefect with no real friends, who was in a sour mood.
She was enraged, really. It was night-time, and Eris was stalking the halls of the third floor, coming back from dinner. Dinner had been a dull event for the red-head, as she had sat near her dorm mates. The other girls had talked a bit, but Eris hadn't felt the need to join in on any conversation, no matter how lively. Unless it was about marvel, or anything else muggle related. Those were Eris's favourite conversations. Conversations about fantasy words, stories, and characters. It helped make Hogwarts seem more real. Realizing that there were other crazy words and places, even if those places were only found in the pages of a book or a TV screen.
Stomping through the halls of the third floor, glowering over the fact that she had four floors left before she reached the relative comfort of the Gryffindor Common room, Eris found herself at the end of the hallway, by the trophy room.
There was a boy in there, yelling at a painting. That was something that caught the girl's interest. Maybe this boy was demented, but at least talking to him would be something to do. Although, he definitely didn't seem in the right frame of mind. If the resident of the painting didn't want to talk, it was best not to pester them.
The boy seemed flustered, and although Eris couldn't see what house he was in, he seemed to be an angry Sytherin or Gryffindor. Hufflepuffs were too nice to scream at a Painting, while if he was a Ravenclaw, he would of figured out how to get the portrait to do whatever it was that he wanted done.
She listened to the boy, gaining information. Between curses and threats, what he wanted became clear. The boy wanted the painting to open. Eris's brow furred in confusion. He was definitely out of his mind. Threatening to send a picture to Azkaban, pointing his wand at it, and screaming for a painting to open. Didn't he know pictures didn't open up?
Unless they were a secret passage, but this wasn't Scooby Doo. This was the trophy room. Eris would normally of said something kind to the deranged boy, but her foul mood prevented that. That and the fact there were no teachers around. Without a nosy teacher like Professor Barrows around to monitor what Eris was saying, she was homefree to do anything. Including teasing a crazy boy.
"Sending a painting to Azkaban? That's the most stupid thing I've ever heard." From what Eris had read, Azkaban was a wizard prison. There used to be guards called Dementors there. The only reason she knew anything about the prison was because Harry Potter was there now, for killing a woman. Even now, it seemed crazy that Harry Potter, hero of the Second Wizarding World, and protagonist of millions of books Eris had poured over in the library had killed a woman.
Either way, Azkaban was a place for Wizard criminals. Not paintings.
The more she thought about it, the more unfair it seemed that Adam was just ditching her because she had punched one girl in the face. It had been well deserved. She had ruined everything going good in Eris's life. Like her friendships, and her hopes of going to Adam's house over the summer. Now Eris was just a perfect, possibly in danger of losing her position, because of Matilda Barrows's untimely strolling through the hallways. A prefect with no real friends, who was in a sour mood.
She was enraged, really. It was night-time, and Eris was stalking the halls of the third floor, coming back from dinner. Dinner had been a dull event for the red-head, as she had sat near her dorm mates. The other girls had talked a bit, but Eris hadn't felt the need to join in on any conversation, no matter how lively. Unless it was about marvel, or anything else muggle related. Those were Eris's favourite conversations. Conversations about fantasy words, stories, and characters. It helped make Hogwarts seem more real. Realizing that there were other crazy words and places, even if those places were only found in the pages of a book or a TV screen.
Stomping through the halls of the third floor, glowering over the fact that she had four floors left before she reached the relative comfort of the Gryffindor Common room, Eris found herself at the end of the hallway, by the trophy room.
There was a boy in there, yelling at a painting. That was something that caught the girl's interest. Maybe this boy was demented, but at least talking to him would be something to do. Although, he definitely didn't seem in the right frame of mind. If the resident of the painting didn't want to talk, it was best not to pester them.
The boy seemed flustered, and although Eris couldn't see what house he was in, he seemed to be an angry Sytherin or Gryffindor. Hufflepuffs were too nice to scream at a Painting, while if he was a Ravenclaw, he would of figured out how to get the portrait to do whatever it was that he wanted done.
She listened to the boy, gaining information. Between curses and threats, what he wanted became clear. The boy wanted the painting to open. Eris's brow furred in confusion. He was definitely out of his mind. Threatening to send a picture to Azkaban, pointing his wand at it, and screaming for a painting to open. Didn't he know pictures didn't open up?
Unless they were a secret passage, but this wasn't Scooby Doo. This was the trophy room. Eris would normally of said something kind to the deranged boy, but her foul mood prevented that. That and the fact there were no teachers around. Without a nosy teacher like Professor Barrows around to monitor what Eris was saying, she was homefree to do anything. Including teasing a crazy boy.
"Sending a painting to Azkaban? That's the most stupid thing I've ever heard." From what Eris had read, Azkaban was a wizard prison. There used to be guards called Dementors there. The only reason she knew anything about the prison was because Harry Potter was there now, for killing a woman. Even now, it seemed crazy that Harry Potter, hero of the Second Wizarding World, and protagonist of millions of books Eris had poured over in the library had killed a woman.
Either way, Azkaban was a place for Wizard criminals. Not paintings.
sorry not sorry bout' what i said
STA: 6 EVA: 7 STR: 1 WIS: 8 ACC 9 ACC: 9
abilities: transfig DC -5
12 Apr 2018, 20:13
Ask and Receive
Max was in the midst of deciding exactly what spell he was going to use when a voice piped up from behind him, spooking him into spinning with his wand raised. He quickly lowered it when he realized who it was; naturally, one of the Gryffindor prefects just had to show up right now. If it were anyone else he might've just continued with the spell anyway, but if the prefect of his house was standing there he couldn't just go ahead and destroy school property. He scowled, his frown growing even more severe when he realized what she'd said.
"I didn't say I was going to send him to Azkaban," Max snapped, exasperated. "I said I was going to blast him there. It was a figure of speech - like, I'll punch you into Sunday or something." Halfway through speaking he realized just how ridiculous that sounded, regardless of the fact that he hadn't meant he was sending a painting to a famous wizard prison. He probably didn't exactly look like the poster-boy for great mental health either; his clothes were haphazard, his hair stuck up wildly, and he... well, he'd been yelling at a painting. He did his best to straighten himself up as he narrowed his eyes at the girl who'd so rudely interrupted him.
Eris Elcan. Yeah, he knew her. She was a pure-blood who'd punched Eri in the face at one point, though the details of why were unclear to him. Nonetheless, he imagined she had a pretty wicked temper if she'd punched someone who was usually so calm all the time. Though, to be fair, he'd tried to push Eri in a lake so he was aware that his own temper wasn't the greatest. On the bright side, he had a feeling that he knew way more about the short red-head than she knew of him.
"I'm not crazy," he added, after what felt like too long. But maybe he was. Maybe he was seeing things that weren't really there, making connections in places that were simple coincidence. It just... it felt like he was so close to figuring it out. He more or less understood every line except the for the last one. He turned back to the portrait, touching a finger to the frame. Even if he didn't personally know or trust her, from what he'd heard she was a smart girl. At this point, he was desperate.
"Look, it's going to sound crazy, I know. But I found this book..." He explained it briefly, the title, the blank pages, the poem - riddle, really - in the middle. He conveniently 'forgot' to mention the author of the book in case this girl put two and two together to figure out that a Death Eater had written it. But he told her everything else, the whole secret spilling out in rapid-fire, disjointed sentences rushed out in every breath like it was a race.
When he was finished, he turned back to the painting. Ask and receive. He was positive that 'destruction' was meant for whatever was between the third and fourth brick, which meant that the portrait needed to be asked something. But what? Why had Blessed Peacemakers been crossed out? What did United Effort mean? He eyed her as he waited to see if she knew something about it. Maybe, if she didn't, he could ask her to punch this painting in the face.
"I didn't say I was going to send him to Azkaban," Max snapped, exasperated. "I said I was going to blast him there. It was a figure of speech - like, I'll punch you into Sunday or something." Halfway through speaking he realized just how ridiculous that sounded, regardless of the fact that he hadn't meant he was sending a painting to a famous wizard prison. He probably didn't exactly look like the poster-boy for great mental health either; his clothes were haphazard, his hair stuck up wildly, and he... well, he'd been yelling at a painting. He did his best to straighten himself up as he narrowed his eyes at the girl who'd so rudely interrupted him.
Eris Elcan. Yeah, he knew her. She was a pure-blood who'd punched Eri in the face at one point, though the details of why were unclear to him. Nonetheless, he imagined she had a pretty wicked temper if she'd punched someone who was usually so calm all the time. Though, to be fair, he'd tried to push Eri in a lake so he was aware that his own temper wasn't the greatest. On the bright side, he had a feeling that he knew way more about the short red-head than she knew of him.
"I'm not crazy," he added, after what felt like too long. But maybe he was. Maybe he was seeing things that weren't really there, making connections in places that were simple coincidence. It just... it felt like he was so close to figuring it out. He more or less understood every line except the for the last one. He turned back to the portrait, touching a finger to the frame. Even if he didn't personally know or trust her, from what he'd heard she was a smart girl. At this point, he was desperate.
"Look, it's going to sound crazy, I know. But I found this book..." He explained it briefly, the title, the blank pages, the poem - riddle, really - in the middle. He conveniently 'forgot' to mention the author of the book in case this girl put two and two together to figure out that a Death Eater had written it. But he told her everything else, the whole secret spilling out in rapid-fire, disjointed sentences rushed out in every breath like it was a race.
When he was finished, he turned back to the painting. Ask and receive. He was positive that 'destruction' was meant for whatever was between the third and fourth brick, which meant that the portrait needed to be asked something. But what? Why had Blessed Peacemakers been crossed out? What did United Effort mean? He eyed her as he waited to see if she knew something about it. Maybe, if she didn't, he could ask her to punch this painting in the face.
"There’s something brittle in me that will break before it bends."
Fearless | Poison Resistance
STA - 7, EV - 5, STR - 1, WIS - 9, ARC - 10, ACC - 8
Fearless | Poison Resistance
STA - 7, EV - 5, STR - 1, WIS - 9, ARC - 10, ACC - 8
12 Apr 2018, 21:56
Ask and Receive
The crazy boy turned around, and Eris stared at him in recognition. He was another Gryffindor first year. One she had seen around the common room a few times. Why was he standing alone in the Trophy Room, screaming at a painting? Now she couldn't be too rude to the boy. He was one of her house, and as a prefect, she had to take care of him. Even if he looked deranged. Why couldn't the boy be a sytherin? Then Eris wouldn't of had to feel responsible for the boy's well-being. Anger growing a little bit inside of her, Eris studied her fellow Gryffindor.
He snapped right back at her, and Eris rolled her eyes. She was equally as exasperated as the other boy, who's name she couldn't remember. "It's not a good figure of speech though." Eris said loudly, trying to fill the silence of the trophy room with her voice. The room was too quiet for her liking. Too much like her family home. It was always good for things to be loud.
I'm not crazy, the boy stated and Eris's already raised eyebrow rose even more. Wasn't it a sign of insanity to say that you weren't crazy? Like when people rocked back and forth and screamed "i'm not crazy" and stuff like that? Eris wasn't sure. She really had no idea if that was a real thing, although her dad used to tell her stories about creepy people. Before he left, her father had a horrific sense of humor. Not mentioning their theory about this to the boy, Eris simply watched him talk.
His story did sound crazy. Mind reeling, Eris frowned at the painting. Her earlier anger faded slightly, in the excitement of an adventure of some sort. The boy rambled on and on, each sentence becoming more and more interesting. The story was crazy. A book with a secret message in it. A riddle for the next person to find it. Eris's anger almost diminished completely, and the excitement grew.
Regardless of what the boy wanted, Eris was going to help him find the mystery. It seemed like this really was Scooby Doo, prior to what she had believed before hearing the boy's story. She stared at the painting, wondering who the man was. The other boy hadn't told her who the author of the book was, just about him from the poem.
Frowning at the painting, Eris studied the wall. "Maybe the answer isn't in the painting. Maybe it's in the wall. Between fourth and third brick? Maybe that means something. If you're sure that the painting is the dude."
Eris kept staring at the painting, brow still furled in confusion. She wasn't very good at figuring out what riddles meant. Other people were, though. Hopefully the other boy was. Maybe he could figure it out, even though Eris wasn't going to let him do it on his own. Something that interesting was something Eris wanted to be a part of. If they were going to work together, regardless of what the boy wanted, Eris would have to indroduce herself and learn his name.
"I'm Eris by the way." Eris said, still staring at the painting. She was too interested in solving the mystery to extend a hand. There was not enough time.
He snapped right back at her, and Eris rolled her eyes. She was equally as exasperated as the other boy, who's name she couldn't remember. "It's not a good figure of speech though." Eris said loudly, trying to fill the silence of the trophy room with her voice. The room was too quiet for her liking. Too much like her family home. It was always good for things to be loud.
I'm not crazy, the boy stated and Eris's already raised eyebrow rose even more. Wasn't it a sign of insanity to say that you weren't crazy? Like when people rocked back and forth and screamed "i'm not crazy" and stuff like that? Eris wasn't sure. She really had no idea if that was a real thing, although her dad used to tell her stories about creepy people. Before he left, her father had a horrific sense of humor. Not mentioning their theory about this to the boy, Eris simply watched him talk.
His story did sound crazy. Mind reeling, Eris frowned at the painting. Her earlier anger faded slightly, in the excitement of an adventure of some sort. The boy rambled on and on, each sentence becoming more and more interesting. The story was crazy. A book with a secret message in it. A riddle for the next person to find it. Eris's anger almost diminished completely, and the excitement grew.
Regardless of what the boy wanted, Eris was going to help him find the mystery. It seemed like this really was Scooby Doo, prior to what she had believed before hearing the boy's story. She stared at the painting, wondering who the man was. The other boy hadn't told her who the author of the book was, just about him from the poem.
Frowning at the painting, Eris studied the wall. "Maybe the answer isn't in the painting. Maybe it's in the wall. Between fourth and third brick? Maybe that means something. If you're sure that the painting is the dude."
Eris kept staring at the painting, brow still furled in confusion. She wasn't very good at figuring out what riddles meant. Other people were, though. Hopefully the other boy was. Maybe he could figure it out, even though Eris wasn't going to let him do it on his own. Something that interesting was something Eris wanted to be a part of. If they were going to work together, regardless of what the boy wanted, Eris would have to indroduce herself and learn his name.
"I'm Eris by the way." Eris said, still staring at the painting. She was too interested in solving the mystery to extend a hand. There was not enough time.
sorry not sorry bout' what i said
STA: 6 EVA: 7 STR: 1 WIS: 8 ACC 9 ACC: 9
abilities: transfig DC -5
16 Apr 2018, 02:56
Ask and Receive
It was a relief when Eris stopped looking at him like he was a complete whack job, and even more gratifying when she actually seemed to take an interest in the thing that had consumed his thoughts for the past while. Thinking about it was one thing, but actually getting it out in the open was another entirely; the fact that she seemed more ready to figure it out then run away from him was a good sign. All of his annoyance faded away as she also started to look at the painting, and then began checking the wall.
"I'm sure it's him," Max muttered, eyeing the man with some consternation. It had to be, right? At her next words, he went over the riddle in his mind again and shrugged, stepping forward to run his hands over the bricks in the walls near the painting. There was no pattern to them and he couldn't see anything that could conceivably be a 'fourth and third' brick, but it didn't hurt to try. His fingers deftly ran across the cracks, searching for any air blowing through them that could signify a passage. Nothing, though at one point he was sure he'd accidentally touched a rather large spider and he quickly jerked his hand back.
Stepping back so he was standing beside her to study the painting, he only briefly glanced at her when she introduced herself. "I know," he answered absentmindedly, and then - "Er, sorry. I've seen you around so I know your name. I'm Max." He was a little surprised to find that he was already willing to accept her on this adventure. Too many days of running his brain in frustrating circles must be taking its toll. But, besides that, the riddle had said 'United Efforts,' right?
He turned back to the painting and narrowed his eyes at it. Why were those words capitalized? The rest of the riddle was grammatically correct but for some reason those specific words were written with capitals - and blessed peacemakers before that had also been written. His eyes widened as he rolled around the implications in his mind.
"What if it's a phrase?" he asked aloud, excitement mounting in his chest. He barely knew Eris but when he turned to her his eyes were sparkling and in that moment, he couldn't have cared less if she was his worst enemy. "Some paintings have phrases that you say to them to open secret passages, like the Common Room ones. When it says 'ask and receive,' maybe it means we're supposed to say something to the painting."
He was nearly jumping out of his skin in excitement as he turned back to the gruff-looking man. It would make sense why one phrase had been crossed out too - passwords to the Common Room changed so it went to reason that passwords to secret passages could change to. He stepped up to the painting with a confident grin, looking the man in the eye.
"United Efforts," he said grandly, waiting for the painting to open so he and Eris could explore what lay beyond. But nothing happened, beyond the painting now looking at him with something akin to contempt. Stupid. If passwords could be changed, who was to say that this one hadn't changed in the years since his ancestor had written the riddle? It had been a last-ditch effort, and there was nothing left to try but...
"Do you know what United Efforts is in Latin?" he asked Eris, finally giving her his full attention. "Usually the Common Room ones are in Latin. It's worth a try."
"I'm sure it's him," Max muttered, eyeing the man with some consternation. It had to be, right? At her next words, he went over the riddle in his mind again and shrugged, stepping forward to run his hands over the bricks in the walls near the painting. There was no pattern to them and he couldn't see anything that could conceivably be a 'fourth and third' brick, but it didn't hurt to try. His fingers deftly ran across the cracks, searching for any air blowing through them that could signify a passage. Nothing, though at one point he was sure he'd accidentally touched a rather large spider and he quickly jerked his hand back.
Stepping back so he was standing beside her to study the painting, he only briefly glanced at her when she introduced herself. "I know," he answered absentmindedly, and then - "Er, sorry. I've seen you around so I know your name. I'm Max." He was a little surprised to find that he was already willing to accept her on this adventure. Too many days of running his brain in frustrating circles must be taking its toll. But, besides that, the riddle had said 'United Efforts,' right?
He turned back to the painting and narrowed his eyes at it. Why were those words capitalized? The rest of the riddle was grammatically correct but for some reason those specific words were written with capitals - and blessed peacemakers before that had also been written. His eyes widened as he rolled around the implications in his mind.
"What if it's a phrase?" he asked aloud, excitement mounting in his chest. He barely knew Eris but when he turned to her his eyes were sparkling and in that moment, he couldn't have cared less if she was his worst enemy. "Some paintings have phrases that you say to them to open secret passages, like the Common Room ones. When it says 'ask and receive,' maybe it means we're supposed to say something to the painting."
He was nearly jumping out of his skin in excitement as he turned back to the gruff-looking man. It would make sense why one phrase had been crossed out too - passwords to the Common Room changed so it went to reason that passwords to secret passages could change to. He stepped up to the painting with a confident grin, looking the man in the eye.
"United Efforts," he said grandly, waiting for the painting to open so he and Eris could explore what lay beyond. But nothing happened, beyond the painting now looking at him with something akin to contempt. Stupid. If passwords could be changed, who was to say that this one hadn't changed in the years since his ancestor had written the riddle? It had been a last-ditch effort, and there was nothing left to try but...
"Do you know what United Efforts is in Latin?" he asked Eris, finally giving her his full attention. "Usually the Common Room ones are in Latin. It's worth a try."
"There’s something brittle in me that will break before it bends."
Fearless | Poison Resistance
STA - 7, EV - 5, STR - 1, WIS - 9, ARC - 10, ACC - 8
Fearless | Poison Resistance
STA - 7, EV - 5, STR - 1, WIS - 9, ARC - 10, ACC - 8
19 Apr 2018, 07:17
Ask and Receive
The man did not look friendly. Perhaps it was the excitement of the moment, or Eris's wild imagination, but the man seemed to be looking at the two Gryffindor children with an expression of distaste. It was odd though. For a painting at Hogwarts, the man was awfully still. Almost like a muggle painting. Scowling at the painting with her best angry face, which wasn't really that intimidating, Eris waited for Max to do something. Soon enough, the boy had walked up towards the painting.
Eris's heart beat in her chest, as she watched Max move to the brick in the wall. His hands moved with deft swiftness, searching for the third and fourth brick. He found nothing though, and after a moment of tense silence, Max returned his hands to his sides. Feeling disappointment course through her small body, Eris resisted the urge to slump down to the ground in disappointment. She stayed on her feet though, shrugging at Max. So that hadn't worked. What next? Feeling a wave of confusion, Eris wished there was a ravenclaw in the room with them. Preferably someone she knew, like Adam or Kaegen. They would of solved the riddle in seconds, instead of blundering about like idiots, unlike her and the other boy.
Eris stared at the other boy in shock. He knew her? That was alarming, yet gratifying. It felt nice to be known, even if it was admittedly a bit strange. The boy seemed a bit off, so Eris wasn't all that worried about him knowing her name. He was like Kaegen. A little bit off. Not in a bad way, just in a confused way. Of course, he might of just been distracted by the illusive painting and mystery in front of them. Eris should of been more focused on that, instead of things like names. Max was an alright name. Not one that conveyed a sense of craziness, like a name like Kaegen did. Perhaps he was just a normal kid obsessing over a painting? Of course, one couldn't figure out those things from a name.
Eris returned her gaze, and wandering thoughts to the scowling man in the painting. There was nothing to analyze. It was just a painting, and Eris couldn't remember all the words of the riddle. Retracing what she could remember in her mind, Eris's expression turned to one of determination. She would help Max figure this out.
Eris let out a little jump when Max declared his thoughts about it being a phrase. She had grown quite adjusted to the silence of the room. A phrase? Asking something to the painting? Max looked almost ecstatic in his discovery, turning back to the painting with mounting excitement. Eris followed his gaze, taking a step forward. Had Max figured it out? The excitement vanished as Max said united efforts and nothing happened. Eris waited with bated breath for three seconds, heart pounding, but nothing.
Of course. That would of been too easy. Sighing, Eris scowled at the gruff-looking man with all the might she could muster. Did she know united efforts in Latin? Of course not. She didn't know any latin, other than the latin they had learned in classes for their spells. And the latin phrases she had read about. Closing her eyes, Eris tried to think.
United efforts. United was a simple enough word. One repeated in many books. What was it? "United. Um, that is, U. U-unimatd?" No that wasn't right. Furrowing her brow up, Eris tried to think. It was another solid minute before she jumped up! "unitum! That's what united is." Efforts. She had no idea what that was in latin. "I don't know what efforts is though.." Eris said, almost sheepishly, still proud of her little win. At least she had known what United meant. Maybe Max could figure out the rest.
Eris's heart beat in her chest, as she watched Max move to the brick in the wall. His hands moved with deft swiftness, searching for the third and fourth brick. He found nothing though, and after a moment of tense silence, Max returned his hands to his sides. Feeling disappointment course through her small body, Eris resisted the urge to slump down to the ground in disappointment. She stayed on her feet though, shrugging at Max. So that hadn't worked. What next? Feeling a wave of confusion, Eris wished there was a ravenclaw in the room with them. Preferably someone she knew, like Adam or Kaegen. They would of solved the riddle in seconds, instead of blundering about like idiots, unlike her and the other boy.
Eris stared at the other boy in shock. He knew her? That was alarming, yet gratifying. It felt nice to be known, even if it was admittedly a bit strange. The boy seemed a bit off, so Eris wasn't all that worried about him knowing her name. He was like Kaegen. A little bit off. Not in a bad way, just in a confused way. Of course, he might of just been distracted by the illusive painting and mystery in front of them. Eris should of been more focused on that, instead of things like names. Max was an alright name. Not one that conveyed a sense of craziness, like a name like Kaegen did. Perhaps he was just a normal kid obsessing over a painting? Of course, one couldn't figure out those things from a name.
Eris returned her gaze, and wandering thoughts to the scowling man in the painting. There was nothing to analyze. It was just a painting, and Eris couldn't remember all the words of the riddle. Retracing what she could remember in her mind, Eris's expression turned to one of determination. She would help Max figure this out.
Eris let out a little jump when Max declared his thoughts about it being a phrase. She had grown quite adjusted to the silence of the room. A phrase? Asking something to the painting? Max looked almost ecstatic in his discovery, turning back to the painting with mounting excitement. Eris followed his gaze, taking a step forward. Had Max figured it out? The excitement vanished as Max said united efforts and nothing happened. Eris waited with bated breath for three seconds, heart pounding, but nothing.
Of course. That would of been too easy. Sighing, Eris scowled at the gruff-looking man with all the might she could muster. Did she know united efforts in Latin? Of course not. She didn't know any latin, other than the latin they had learned in classes for their spells. And the latin phrases she had read about. Closing her eyes, Eris tried to think.
United efforts. United was a simple enough word. One repeated in many books. What was it? "United. Um, that is, U. U-unimatd?" No that wasn't right. Furrowing her brow up, Eris tried to think. It was another solid minute before she jumped up! "unitum! That's what united is." Efforts. She had no idea what that was in latin. "I don't know what efforts is though.." Eris said, almost sheepishly, still proud of her little win. At least she had known what United meant. Maybe Max could figure out the rest.
sorry not sorry bout' what i said
STA: 6 EVA: 7 STR: 1 WIS: 8 ACC 9 ACC: 9
abilities: transfig DC -5
29 Apr 2018, 22:38
Ask and Receive
Unitum. Maybe that was one half of the puzzle and they were this close to solving the other. He was beyond frustrated, though, and judging by Eris's scowl, so was she. Whoever had left the riddle behind had clearly expected whoever found it to be much cleverer, or else he would've figured it out weeks ago. So close. They were so bloody close.
"I don't know what efforts is," Max admitted with a sigh, crossing his arms and tapping his foot in annoyance. They could go to the library and look it up or find someone else who knew Latin. Those seemed to be the options they were limited to, though why should there be limitations on an adventure? If there was one way in, there should be a hundred others. His annoyance wasn't helped by that stare from the painting, which seemed to be mocking them every step of the way. He had tried and Eris had even come up with half the phrase, so the former headmaster had no right to look down on them like that.
Struck with a hint of vicious inspiration, he reached out and flicked the man in the forehead. Definitely not the best idea since any damage would get them in trouble, but he was too tired to care. Luckily, it didn't seem to damage the painting or even ruffle him beyond a stare that grew even more disapproving. But...
"Did you see that?" Max half-whispered, turning to Eris with eyes wide in shock. His excitement came back full swing and he nearly jumped and down with it. The painting had moved when he'd flicked it. Not like a normal wizard painting, but like there wasn't anything behind it. It had rippled, and it was clear that whatever it hid behind it, it wasn't brick. For a second, nothing else in the world mattered but the fact that the mystery was real. It was so... cool. He'd never been part of a mystery before, and when he turned to Eris he was laughing in relief.
"There's definitely a passage back there! We can probably get back there if we get the right password! Maybe we'll find the Philosopher's Stone! I know it was supposed to be destroyed, but this is Hogwarts, you know, so they could've lied about it. Oh, if we do, we can definitely share it. I don't know how you can share something like that, but I'll make sure it happens." Beaming from ear to ear and bouncing on his toes, he felt like a kid at Christmas. In fact, he was feeling so happy and generous that he'd probably give her the whole thing; he was too young to think much of immortality, anyhow. Solving the mystery was the best part.
Except they hadn't fully solved it. There was something back there, sure, but they hadn't managed to crack the other half of the password. He slowly stopped bouncing and swallowed, his smile dimming as he remembered who he was talking to. He should probably make her leave so he could finish what he'd been about to do, but she was smart and solving it with another person was actually pretty fun.
"Uh," he began as he took his wand out again, looking between it and Eris. "How do you feel about destruction of school property?" They may not be brilliant Ravenclaws but there was something else they could do. He gingerly poked the picture and sent it waving again. "We could stab our wands into the edges of the frame and try to pry the picture out. And put it back afterwards?"
"I don't know what efforts is," Max admitted with a sigh, crossing his arms and tapping his foot in annoyance. They could go to the library and look it up or find someone else who knew Latin. Those seemed to be the options they were limited to, though why should there be limitations on an adventure? If there was one way in, there should be a hundred others. His annoyance wasn't helped by that stare from the painting, which seemed to be mocking them every step of the way. He had tried and Eris had even come up with half the phrase, so the former headmaster had no right to look down on them like that.
Struck with a hint of vicious inspiration, he reached out and flicked the man in the forehead. Definitely not the best idea since any damage would get them in trouble, but he was too tired to care. Luckily, it didn't seem to damage the painting or even ruffle him beyond a stare that grew even more disapproving. But...
"Did you see that?" Max half-whispered, turning to Eris with eyes wide in shock. His excitement came back full swing and he nearly jumped and down with it. The painting had moved when he'd flicked it. Not like a normal wizard painting, but like there wasn't anything behind it. It had rippled, and it was clear that whatever it hid behind it, it wasn't brick. For a second, nothing else in the world mattered but the fact that the mystery was real. It was so... cool. He'd never been part of a mystery before, and when he turned to Eris he was laughing in relief.
"There's definitely a passage back there! We can probably get back there if we get the right password! Maybe we'll find the Philosopher's Stone! I know it was supposed to be destroyed, but this is Hogwarts, you know, so they could've lied about it. Oh, if we do, we can definitely share it. I don't know how you can share something like that, but I'll make sure it happens." Beaming from ear to ear and bouncing on his toes, he felt like a kid at Christmas. In fact, he was feeling so happy and generous that he'd probably give her the whole thing; he was too young to think much of immortality, anyhow. Solving the mystery was the best part.
Except they hadn't fully solved it. There was something back there, sure, but they hadn't managed to crack the other half of the password. He slowly stopped bouncing and swallowed, his smile dimming as he remembered who he was talking to. He should probably make her leave so he could finish what he'd been about to do, but she was smart and solving it with another person was actually pretty fun.
"Uh," he began as he took his wand out again, looking between it and Eris. "How do you feel about destruction of school property?" They may not be brilliant Ravenclaws but there was something else they could do. He gingerly poked the picture and sent it waving again. "We could stab our wands into the edges of the frame and try to pry the picture out. And put it back afterwards?"
"There’s something brittle in me that will break before it bends."
Fearless | Poison Resistance
STA - 7, EV - 5, STR - 1, WIS - 9, ARC - 10, ACC - 8
Fearless | Poison Resistance
STA - 7, EV - 5, STR - 1, WIS - 9, ARC - 10, ACC - 8
30 Apr 2018, 00:22
Ask and Receive
The entire time he had stood there listening to the two of them talking his interest and curiosity had piqued. It was while he had been strolling along the hallways of the great castle, as he had done every night since his arrival at Hogwarts, that he noticed Eris walking along with a very severe expression on her face; a shade as if there would never been sun again. Whatever had been upsetting her at the time must have been quite serious and still went unknown, but Dorian had made a point of staying out her way. For the most part at least. Seeing her, most likely on patrol as was one of her duties as a Prefect, he figured this might be the adventure of the evening. He had tailed her through the hallways, being sure to keep a large enough gap between them, hiding around intersections and dropping flat to the floor when he felt she was about to angle herself in such a way as to see him tailing her. All in all, he had followed her to where they now stood in the Trophy Room.
Dorian watched and listened to all that had transpired between her and Max, fully invested in the mystery. The poem itself had seemed rather dry and didn't do much by way of exciting any kind of reaction in him, mostly because he didn't understand a word of what it meant. He had no idea where to begin interpreting the lines, individually or otherwise, and no idea how to dissect the underlying meaning. But the mystery itself and the prospect of an eventual revelation of well-kept secrets was more than enough for him. When Max asked for the Latin translation of the phrase United Efforts after his failed attempt to coerce the painting to reveal its secrets, Dorian's heart skipped a beat, realizing that the mystery was getting that much closer to being solved. Apparently Max didn't know the phrase in Latin, which caused Dorian to look at Eris from his hiding place, hoping she could pick up the slack. As soon as she started making the attempt Dorian found himself unconsciously mouthing the words with her, willing the interpretation at her. To his dismay she barely got the first word, correct though it may be, and it didn't seem as if either of them were about to guess the rest.
So close, yet so far away. He pondered stepping out and just saying the words that Max seemed fairly certain would reveal the secret, but when he thought of the fact that Eris was a Prefect and would most likely bust him for being up and out of the dorm room after curfew, he mentally restrained himself. She seemed interested, but who was to say she wouldn't turn around and tell on them the second they opened the passage? It was such that he remained where he was, back to the wall and facing away from them. Eyes closed and ears perked at the sound of Max's voice, he figured he'd just wait for Max, the smartest person he knew, to figure it out. With the level of confidence he had in the other boy, it was no wonder as to his reaction at the words that next left Max's mouth.
Did he seriously just suggest destroying school property to a Prefect? Clearly he wasn't in his right frame of mind. Someone as cool and collected as Max would have calculated the risk of making such a suggestion to the face of someone like Eris. Was he trying to force her hand? It was lucky enough that he had gotten her to consider his claims to a mysterious finding down the line, but maybe this was pushing it a bit much. Sighing heavily, enough so that the two would be able to hear it, Dorian stepped away from his hiding place and made his presence known. "Lunctis viribus." He stated this calmly, ambling closer to the painting and, ultimately, Max and Eris. He had spoken the phrase clearly and loudly enough for even the painting to hear. His Latin wasn't perfect yet, but he knew enough words and meanings to string phrases and sentences together coherently.
Dorian watched and listened to all that had transpired between her and Max, fully invested in the mystery. The poem itself had seemed rather dry and didn't do much by way of exciting any kind of reaction in him, mostly because he didn't understand a word of what it meant. He had no idea where to begin interpreting the lines, individually or otherwise, and no idea how to dissect the underlying meaning. But the mystery itself and the prospect of an eventual revelation of well-kept secrets was more than enough for him. When Max asked for the Latin translation of the phrase United Efforts after his failed attempt to coerce the painting to reveal its secrets, Dorian's heart skipped a beat, realizing that the mystery was getting that much closer to being solved. Apparently Max didn't know the phrase in Latin, which caused Dorian to look at Eris from his hiding place, hoping she could pick up the slack. As soon as she started making the attempt Dorian found himself unconsciously mouthing the words with her, willing the interpretation at her. To his dismay she barely got the first word, correct though it may be, and it didn't seem as if either of them were about to guess the rest.
So close, yet so far away. He pondered stepping out and just saying the words that Max seemed fairly certain would reveal the secret, but when he thought of the fact that Eris was a Prefect and would most likely bust him for being up and out of the dorm room after curfew, he mentally restrained himself. She seemed interested, but who was to say she wouldn't turn around and tell on them the second they opened the passage? It was such that he remained where he was, back to the wall and facing away from them. Eyes closed and ears perked at the sound of Max's voice, he figured he'd just wait for Max, the smartest person he knew, to figure it out. With the level of confidence he had in the other boy, it was no wonder as to his reaction at the words that next left Max's mouth.
Did he seriously just suggest destroying school property to a Prefect? Clearly he wasn't in his right frame of mind. Someone as cool and collected as Max would have calculated the risk of making such a suggestion to the face of someone like Eris. Was he trying to force her hand? It was lucky enough that he had gotten her to consider his claims to a mysterious finding down the line, but maybe this was pushing it a bit much. Sighing heavily, enough so that the two would be able to hear it, Dorian stepped away from his hiding place and made his presence known. "Lunctis viribus." He stated this calmly, ambling closer to the painting and, ultimately, Max and Eris. He had spoken the phrase clearly and loudly enough for even the painting to hear. His Latin wasn't perfect yet, but he knew enough words and meanings to string phrases and sentences together coherently.
✧Improvidus, Apto quod Victum✧
Stam: 3, Agi: 3, Str: 4, Con: 7, Arc: 7, Acc: 6
30 Apr 2018, 07:59
Ask and Receive
Eris sighed as well, looking down at the ground with an expression of deep thought and concentration. Why were they expected to know Latin to figure out the mysterious ways of the school? It wasn't like Latin was taught in Elementary school or something. Only weirdos and old people knew how to speak fluent Latin. Grumbling at her feet, Eris missed Max flicking the painting on the head. When Max turned to fervently whisper-ask if she had seen something, Eris's head snapped upright, as she stared at the painting.
Max was laughing again, and for a second, Eris questioned his sanity. He really did look horrible, but of course, there was a reason why. They were standing at the threshold of a Hogwarts Mystery, the likes of which that generations of students had walked right past. Pushing away her feelings of worry about Max's sanity, Eris's face broke out into a wide smile.
A passage! This really was like Scooby Doo. Max was bouncing up and down on the tips of his toes, and grinning widely. He kept talking about what he thought they would find in the passage, and how they would split their shares of it. Eris personally thought there would be gold in the passage, or another clue to the mystery. There was no way the adventure would end after they found the passage.
The only issue was the message it's self. Eris was too hyped up on adrenaline to go the library and search for a book about Latin. It was also probably too late at night for the library to be open. Plus the woman running the library already hated Eris. She wouldn't want to get on her bad side yet again. They were stuck in a conundrum of sorts.
Eris followed Max's lead, pulling out her wand. She didn't really know any spells though, and there wasn't anybody around to stab with her wand, besides Max. She wasn't in the mood for stabbing innocent people. So why had Max pulled out his wand? Did he know some spells that Eris didn't?
How did she feel about destroying school property? A good prefect would say that she felt horrible about a crime such as destroying school property, but Eris was not a good prefect. That was Bloom and Serena's jobs. Eris was just "the prefect that punches". About to open her mouth, a smile gracing her mouth as she stepped closer to the painting, the smile faded as a boy sighed from the shadows of the room.
Someone had been watching them? Turning around and forcing a scowl onto her pale face, the short redhead looked up at the taller brown haired boy with an expression of distaste. Her pleasant mood faded away to the earlier anger, upset that somebody had found her not abiding by her prefect duties and conversing with somebody late at night. Then the boy spoke, and Eris's defensive position vanished at his words.
He said the Latin phrase, that Eris supposed was the correct one to open the passage. So Max and Eris wouldn't have to go to the library. That made it slightly better that a strange boy was watching them in the shadows. The boy spoke in a calm, collected voice, and Eris raised an eyebrow. "You seem calm for somebody stalking two children late at night." She stated, before turning back to the painting. Perhaps whatever the stalker had said would open the passage.
Max was laughing again, and for a second, Eris questioned his sanity. He really did look horrible, but of course, there was a reason why. They were standing at the threshold of a Hogwarts Mystery, the likes of which that generations of students had walked right past. Pushing away her feelings of worry about Max's sanity, Eris's face broke out into a wide smile.
A passage! This really was like Scooby Doo. Max was bouncing up and down on the tips of his toes, and grinning widely. He kept talking about what he thought they would find in the passage, and how they would split their shares of it. Eris personally thought there would be gold in the passage, or another clue to the mystery. There was no way the adventure would end after they found the passage.
The only issue was the message it's self. Eris was too hyped up on adrenaline to go the library and search for a book about Latin. It was also probably too late at night for the library to be open. Plus the woman running the library already hated Eris. She wouldn't want to get on her bad side yet again. They were stuck in a conundrum of sorts.
Eris followed Max's lead, pulling out her wand. She didn't really know any spells though, and there wasn't anybody around to stab with her wand, besides Max. She wasn't in the mood for stabbing innocent people. So why had Max pulled out his wand? Did he know some spells that Eris didn't?
How did she feel about destroying school property? A good prefect would say that she felt horrible about a crime such as destroying school property, but Eris was not a good prefect. That was Bloom and Serena's jobs. Eris was just "the prefect that punches". About to open her mouth, a smile gracing her mouth as she stepped closer to the painting, the smile faded as a boy sighed from the shadows of the room.
Someone had been watching them? Turning around and forcing a scowl onto her pale face, the short redhead looked up at the taller brown haired boy with an expression of distaste. Her pleasant mood faded away to the earlier anger, upset that somebody had found her not abiding by her prefect duties and conversing with somebody late at night. Then the boy spoke, and Eris's defensive position vanished at his words.
He said the Latin phrase, that Eris supposed was the correct one to open the passage. So Max and Eris wouldn't have to go to the library. That made it slightly better that a strange boy was watching them in the shadows. The boy spoke in a calm, collected voice, and Eris raised an eyebrow. "You seem calm for somebody stalking two children late at night." She stated, before turning back to the painting. Perhaps whatever the stalker had said would open the passage.
sorry not sorry bout' what i said
STA: 6 EVA: 7 STR: 1 WIS: 8 ACC 9 ACC: 9
abilities: transfig DC -5
2 May 2018, 21:47
Ask and Receive
Reducio
((this is not meant for anyone to see, just a little prank thing I have going with Dorian, you do not have to respond to me or anything like that, I am honestly going to be in and out. Don't wait for me to post again, like don't put me in the order or anything, only posting once.))
Lisabetta had been out enjoying a stroll through the amazing halls of Hogwarts. She was still in awe of this place, even though she had been here long enough where it shouldn't still amaze her. She wasn't afraid of admit that she had really begun to consider this place her home. That was not meant as any kind of offense towards her actual home and her family, she just felt more herself here. At home, there were too many expectations of her, what she should say, what she should wear, what she should do, it was almost overwhelming at times. She was much happier here where all that was expected of her was for her to show up to her classes and do her homework assignments.
She was about to end her wandering adventures and head back to her dorm room when she caught sight of a familiar person. When she realized who it was, a mischievous smile came across her face. She had been wondering when she would run into him again and quickly moved to the side of the hallway so that he wouldn't catch sight of her. He didn't seem to notice her, as he was talking to another student, a Gryffindor Prefect when she inspected closer. Maybe now wouldn't be the best time to continue her vengeance against the boy? Well, if she didn't get caught it would be fine, and if she did get caught, well Lisabetta wasn't going to think about that. She couldn't even imagine her parent's reactions if they ever found out what Lisabetta had been doing. It was all harmless fun, she wasn't hurting anyone, but it was definitely not good behavior.
She moved slowly and quietly, getting a better look in the room, and realized that it was the trophy room. She was about to give up and walk away, not seeing anything that she could use in the trophy room when her eyes fell on a small wooden bucket towards the back of the room. The mischievous smile returned to Lisabetta's face as she pulled out her wand.
"Wingardium Leviosa." She whispered, pointing her wand at the bucket that quickly shot from the ground and over to where Dorian Gray stood, completely soaking him from head to toe in soapy water. Lisabetta had to keep herself from chuckling before quickly, and quietly, leaving her hiding spot and heading down the hallway. She didn't stick around to see his reaction, not wanting to get caught.