Welcome to the Augurey Cabin
"How many names? How many people?"
She was not certain how many of them there were. That was the problem with looking the same, it was hard to realize when you were looking at someone new in possession of familiar features. "Jack Warren," she raised a single finger. "Jack Burnett," she raised a second finger. "Paracelsus Alger Myth," that was three, and she pointed a finger in Ruka's direction. That would make four that she was certain of but there could easily be more.
"Are there no things in your home?"
"No, I have things," she answered. "Just--" Her voice trailed off and Ruka tried to supply an answer.
"Or different things?"
"Yes," she immediately answered only to realize after a tick that was wrong. "No, I mean yes but neither," she answered with characteristic difficulty. "It is just..." how does one explain the difference of a place with no soul with a home?
"I have nice things, like a bed," her family had means so she did not lack for high quality furnishings but they were not the same. "But the bed is just a bed," she tugged at the linens on her bed. These covers were too colorful, too many. They were not necessary and therefore they did not exist. People take for granted the fact that things as simple as fashion and décor require more than an eye for symmetry in many cases. Erin was naturally pretty, great genes. She knew how to dress well. But there was a difference between her and other girls who gushed over their ball gowns or dreamed about their wedding dress, she simply understood the rules of aesthetic. She did not have a specific want. The rustic colors here assaulted her eyes but were intended to conjure something in the campers that she missed. She knew it was missing, she could understand it if it was explained but in the end it did not matter. "There are no patterns, and--" her eyes darted side to side before they looked down. "You have a carpet over a perfectly fine floor," a throw rug. "Keep mementos," stuffed animals on beds and framed pictures on nightstands. "You... adorn," yes that was the phrase she was seeking. "My walls are just walls," no pictures, no paintings, no shelves littered in knick-knacks. She was not 'good' at explaining things, she knew plenty of words but they were jumbled with the noise and the worming slugs that filled her head. "This place has stuff, so much eye noise," she complained. "This is nothing like home."
If Ruka were to glance at her belongings, this truth was echoed in them. She did not bring anything to remind her of home, of friends she did not have, of family. There was nothing less what she "needed."
"What do you have feelings about?"
She shrugged, "fear" maybe? She was fearless (the ability said so), no her actions were of self-preservation rather than fear. "I never got that thing that gave you living," for her there was a difference between being alive and living. She simply existed. "I know we are going to die, I know when to flee. I-- just don't get the..." she put a hand over her chest in the shape of a fist and raised, then lowered it rhythmically. "The boom-boom-boom." The impulse to run, that inhuman power that accompanied adrenaline. The passion and the power that came with it. No wonder she had such ambition, she coveted what she could never truly have - life despite being alive.
"Why do you think I have his face?"
"You are either as you claim - related... your family tree more a wreath than a bush, or a shrub," not that there was any shame in that but as far as she knew he was no pureblood. There was no reason to keep the blood so tight. She did not believe the assertion. "That while infinitesimally unlikely, you have not one but three," she extended three fingers, "doppelgangers that come to the same school." Does he understand how ridiculous that sounded? She was allegedly the crazy one here. "Or that there is something wrong," admittedly more logical when phrased this way. "Stolen, made... I haven't a damn clue." She admitted, but she believed the later options.
"Erin."
Yes that was her name, she remembered it.
"Is there any chance that... That the crones and the Death Witches are one and the same?"
"Then I would say, if I could feel the fear I should feel... I would say it is hopeless if they are one in the same," she answered with a stern seriousness. But Ruka was not wrong, she was describing death witches. Just she had the who wrong. A terrible product of years of being given the wrong information coupled with a festering madness that broke a once sensible, but cruel mind.
"Who are they, the Death Witches? Which Prefects? Which students?"
"I know Max and Eris, they admitted it," she answered. "Thomas, I assume," she continued "LeStrange." She let out a sigh. "They work with the giants, I have seen the giants. You have probably seen the giants, but everyone forgets. Today becomes yesterday and tomorrow a month ago." She had probably forgotten the rest too. "Marcus DeWynter," she added. Two who disappeared under what she considered mysterious circumstances only to wordlessly return. "Serena Towers," that suspicious former first year head girl. Nobody else thought that it was weird. She shrugged, "they look like us..." They might even get new faces for all she knew.
Some girl would approach them and Erin would pause, her muscles would tense. Who was that? Red-head. Red-head. So many red heads! She did not like to be approached, no she did not. Not one but two. She looked at their feet and at the edge of the bunk. Nothing, she still did not like it, her thin lips dipped downward.
"Good day, Miss Ryan."
And formal too.
Concern intensifies.
"And you as well, Tân,"
Her eyes shifted between the two of them. Was this a planned questioning? Was she being cornered? Why were there two of them?
"And how do you recognise them? Do they..."
"I can't," she admitted.
"I'm told if you pull out the hair of a Metamorphmagus then that hair reverts to its original shape and colour; That way you can tell if who you are talking to is actually a Metamorph in a different shape."
A factoid she was unaware of. She appeared interested, she actually was. "I am not after metamorphmagus'," she replied as she took the hair and squinted at it. It looked the same, that is to suggest that what he said was true. Also that he was a metamorphmagus. That he was in a different form.
"What about Death Witches? Are there any tricks to see if they really are who they say they are? Do you know?"
"I just know when they are somewhere near. Because the world changes near them," she was actually telling the truth. "I don't... see one right now, but I have been wrong before." She pointed at the ground and at the dark corners of the room. "The darkness is not bad or good, only sometimes alive but near them even dead shadows move. The stones, they change, their presence makes a clear path jagged with piercing rock. The vermin proliferate, rats and flies," even mosps. She was indicating that deathwitches were at the ball, the one they attended last spring, the one the previous fall, the one the spring before. Perhaps she was mad, she seemed so. She seemed to believe it all the same. "Oh, and they smell."
"I am sorry to interrupt..."
Erin did not believe her.
"...I hope you don't mind if take the top bunk?"
Well, if that was not the most suspicious thing she had ever heard. Nobody wants to be near her, spend time with her, bunk adjacent to her.
"Two sets of eyes are better than one to keep a lookout for deathwitches, after all."
A trick, an obvious ploy. A prefect after her allies. "Probably her," Erin added with a dismissive point of her finger. "Knock yourself out," please she nodded towards the top bunk. The danger bunk. A fall from a height in the night. A climb where they were briefly vulnerable. The alleged 'high ground' was not enough of a strategic advantage considering.
"Is that true about the hair?"
Evelynn would ask Tân. Asking twice ensures veracity. Perhaps Erin should ask Eve if she had any maligned intentions.
"That you can determine someone to be a metamorph if you pluck the hair and it changes back to its natural state?"
Flash would approach the three of them, yes a slowly growing crowd. Crowds were concerning, yes. "Flash Holmwood is a death witch too," she pointed at Kazuo as he approached, clear agitation in her voice.
“Rock friends for everyone.” Kazuo announced as he approached, offering them to Ruka, Evelynn and Erin with a grin.
Erin would accept her stone that she saw him pluck from a pile and stare at it intently. She would then give 'Flash' a squinting gaze before she corrected himself. "Not a deathwitch, something else."
“Ruka, I’m hungry, let’s go to the barbecue.”
The summons was sudden, suspicious also. She wondered if there was a reason, an unseen threat or festering agitation that she had not yet realized. She would not stop the duo from departing. She did not trust Flash (Kazuo) but she did not trust the others gathered either. There was always an objective, an incentive that was beyond her. While sudden, she was not the sort to force anyone to stay. She would let Ruka depart, the face-stealer having learned all he was going to learn from her. Erin's eerily happy 'bunkmate' was a different story.
She was not certain how many of them there were. That was the problem with looking the same, it was hard to realize when you were looking at someone new in possession of familiar features. "Jack Warren," she raised a single finger. "Jack Burnett," she raised a second finger. "Paracelsus Alger Myth," that was three, and she pointed a finger in Ruka's direction. That would make four that she was certain of but there could easily be more.
"Are there no things in your home?"
"No, I have things," she answered. "Just--" Her voice trailed off and Ruka tried to supply an answer.
"Or different things?"
"Yes," she immediately answered only to realize after a tick that was wrong. "No, I mean yes but neither," she answered with characteristic difficulty. "It is just..." how does one explain the difference of a place with no soul with a home?
"I have nice things, like a bed," her family had means so she did not lack for high quality furnishings but they were not the same. "But the bed is just a bed," she tugged at the linens on her bed. These covers were too colorful, too many. They were not necessary and therefore they did not exist. People take for granted the fact that things as simple as fashion and décor require more than an eye for symmetry in many cases. Erin was naturally pretty, great genes. She knew how to dress well. But there was a difference between her and other girls who gushed over their ball gowns or dreamed about their wedding dress, she simply understood the rules of aesthetic. She did not have a specific want. The rustic colors here assaulted her eyes but were intended to conjure something in the campers that she missed. She knew it was missing, she could understand it if it was explained but in the end it did not matter. "There are no patterns, and--" her eyes darted side to side before they looked down. "You have a carpet over a perfectly fine floor," a throw rug. "Keep mementos," stuffed animals on beds and framed pictures on nightstands. "You... adorn," yes that was the phrase she was seeking. "My walls are just walls," no pictures, no paintings, no shelves littered in knick-knacks. She was not 'good' at explaining things, she knew plenty of words but they were jumbled with the noise and the worming slugs that filled her head. "This place has stuff, so much eye noise," she complained. "This is nothing like home."
If Ruka were to glance at her belongings, this truth was echoed in them. She did not bring anything to remind her of home, of friends she did not have, of family. There was nothing less what she "needed."
"What do you have feelings about?"
She shrugged, "fear" maybe? She was fearless (the ability said so), no her actions were of self-preservation rather than fear. "I never got that thing that gave you living," for her there was a difference between being alive and living. She simply existed. "I know we are going to die, I know when to flee. I-- just don't get the..." she put a hand over her chest in the shape of a fist and raised, then lowered it rhythmically. "The boom-boom-boom." The impulse to run, that inhuman power that accompanied adrenaline. The passion and the power that came with it. No wonder she had such ambition, she coveted what she could never truly have - life despite being alive.
"Why do you think I have his face?"
"You are either as you claim - related... your family tree more a wreath than a bush, or a shrub," not that there was any shame in that but as far as she knew he was no pureblood. There was no reason to keep the blood so tight. She did not believe the assertion. "That while infinitesimally unlikely, you have not one but three," she extended three fingers, "doppelgangers that come to the same school." Does he understand how ridiculous that sounded? She was allegedly the crazy one here. "Or that there is something wrong," admittedly more logical when phrased this way. "Stolen, made... I haven't a damn clue." She admitted, but she believed the later options.
"Erin."
Yes that was her name, she remembered it.
"Is there any chance that... That the crones and the Death Witches are one and the same?"
"Then I would say, if I could feel the fear I should feel... I would say it is hopeless if they are one in the same," she answered with a stern seriousness. But Ruka was not wrong, she was describing death witches. Just she had the who wrong. A terrible product of years of being given the wrong information coupled with a festering madness that broke a once sensible, but cruel mind.
"Who are they, the Death Witches? Which Prefects? Which students?"
"I know Max and Eris, they admitted it," she answered. "Thomas, I assume," she continued "LeStrange." She let out a sigh. "They work with the giants, I have seen the giants. You have probably seen the giants, but everyone forgets. Today becomes yesterday and tomorrow a month ago." She had probably forgotten the rest too. "Marcus DeWynter," she added. Two who disappeared under what she considered mysterious circumstances only to wordlessly return. "Serena Towers," that suspicious former first year head girl. Nobody else thought that it was weird. She shrugged, "they look like us..." They might even get new faces for all she knew.
Some girl would approach them and Erin would pause, her muscles would tense. Who was that? Red-head. Red-head. So many red heads! She did not like to be approached, no she did not. Not one but two. She looked at their feet and at the edge of the bunk. Nothing, she still did not like it, her thin lips dipped downward.
"Good day, Miss Ryan."
And formal too.
Concern intensifies.
"And you as well, Tân,"
Her eyes shifted between the two of them. Was this a planned questioning? Was she being cornered? Why were there two of them?
"And how do you recognise them? Do they..."
"I can't," she admitted.
"I'm told if you pull out the hair of a Metamorphmagus then that hair reverts to its original shape and colour; That way you can tell if who you are talking to is actually a Metamorph in a different shape."
A factoid she was unaware of. She appeared interested, she actually was. "I am not after metamorphmagus'," she replied as she took the hair and squinted at it. It looked the same, that is to suggest that what he said was true. Also that he was a metamorphmagus. That he was in a different form.
"What about Death Witches? Are there any tricks to see if they really are who they say they are? Do you know?"
"I just know when they are somewhere near. Because the world changes near them," she was actually telling the truth. "I don't... see one right now, but I have been wrong before." She pointed at the ground and at the dark corners of the room. "The darkness is not bad or good, only sometimes alive but near them even dead shadows move. The stones, they change, their presence makes a clear path jagged with piercing rock. The vermin proliferate, rats and flies," even mosps. She was indicating that deathwitches were at the ball, the one they attended last spring, the one the previous fall, the one the spring before. Perhaps she was mad, she seemed so. She seemed to believe it all the same. "Oh, and they smell."
"I am sorry to interrupt..."
Erin did not believe her.
"...I hope you don't mind if take the top bunk?"
Well, if that was not the most suspicious thing she had ever heard. Nobody wants to be near her, spend time with her, bunk adjacent to her.
"Two sets of eyes are better than one to keep a lookout for deathwitches, after all."
A trick, an obvious ploy. A prefect after her allies. "Probably her," Erin added with a dismissive point of her finger. "Knock yourself out," please she nodded towards the top bunk. The danger bunk. A fall from a height in the night. A climb where they were briefly vulnerable. The alleged 'high ground' was not enough of a strategic advantage considering.
"Is that true about the hair?"
Evelynn would ask Tân. Asking twice ensures veracity. Perhaps Erin should ask Eve if she had any maligned intentions.
"That you can determine someone to be a metamorph if you pluck the hair and it changes back to its natural state?"
Flash would approach the three of them, yes a slowly growing crowd. Crowds were concerning, yes. "Flash Holmwood is a death witch too," she pointed at Kazuo as he approached, clear agitation in her voice.
“Rock friends for everyone.” Kazuo announced as he approached, offering them to Ruka, Evelynn and Erin with a grin.
Erin would accept her stone that she saw him pluck from a pile and stare at it intently. She would then give 'Flash' a squinting gaze before she corrected himself. "Not a deathwitch, something else."
“Ruka, I’m hungry, let’s go to the barbecue.”
The summons was sudden, suspicious also. She wondered if there was a reason, an unseen threat or festering agitation that she had not yet realized. She would not stop the duo from departing. She did not trust Flash (Kazuo) but she did not trust the others gathered either. There was always an objective, an incentive that was beyond her. While sudden, she was not the sort to force anyone to stay. She would let Ruka depart, the face-stealer having learned all he was going to learn from her. Erin's eerily happy 'bunkmate' was a different story.
Just a trick of the lighting they said...
Welcome to the Augurey Cabin
Outfit || Wolf pin || Nail polish
Hex code:#A0A9B8 || Tagging people is a lot of work
Alec nodded at Cade's response. “It garner's interesting people to come and say hi from time to time. I haven't been able to get my hands on anything too bright. It used to be all black though so it's definitely a step-up” Alec said, he was surprised with how easily he'd been able to talk about it. Maybe it was the fact that he hadn't really been allowed to do that during the earlier parts of the summer.
Alec's mind had fallen off chocolate frogs cards rather quickly as he had spoken about the joke jar. “I'd have to look in my bag for it-” Alec said. His conversation with beauxbaton girls after the odd introduction had come next, and Alec's response to one of the girls' responses seemed to again fly out o his mouth rather naturally.
Alec smiled and nodded, “Nice” Alec wanted to pry if he was being honest. Hogwarts was awesome, who wouldn't want to send their kid here? Best school ever, nothing against Beauxbatons of course, the benefits of learning foreign languages are ineffable. Also, the school has a lot of cool stuff Alec had heard of and may or may not have been slightly jealous of.
“Oh, that's so cool! I mean you know for people who like alchemy and potioneering, but cool.” Was Alec a nerd because he thought she was super cool now? Maybe... He liked going to class... You know, even if half the time the kid couldn't pay attention during a class to save his life. He just didn't want to sound weird by sounding like he cared. The cooking comment felt a bit off, Alec was okay in potions. He almost burned the place he lived down when he had tried to cook, however. Alec didn't know the head of Hufflepuff, he'd probably heard the name impersonally somewhere though.
The entrance of an older girl(Erin) hadn't been lost on Alec. Attention seemed to sway her way as she'd entered to bunkroom of the cabin. Alec's confusion wasn't clear as it usually could be seen. He looked away. It may have been best not to question.
Another entrance would be made quite quickly after. The adult of the group. Alec noted it was flobberworm guy, as much as Leo had disliked the slimy creatures it had been enough to hatch a few prank ideas. It gave Alec enough of an excuse to make an attempt to reconnect with his friend. The general consensus Alec wasn't sure how to make up of how the situation had really gone.
Really what surprised Alec was the shouting of... Welcome? Alright, Alec took the entrance fondly enough that he chose to spend his time watching the man in obvious, but oblivious curiosity. As if the man could pull out something crazy and Alec would watch as if it was an okay thing and not know the difference.
The man had set down a cactus. It had a funny name. Whoever was near the cactus was going to inevitably be pushed off their bunk bed and fall onto that. His trust in adults and them keeping things under control had wavered. “Is it normal to name plants?” Alec asked Cade in turn to Cade's question. Alec was entertained by the introduction in full, no questions just-Was he one of the people who talked to plants? If he named them... “I'm sure some people name their kid's after their favorite snacks. Maybe it's a snack in an endearing way because he probably likes the snack?” Alec suggested in a questioning form. “I need to find someone to name a snack maybe, Cade you are now um... Chocorog. Like a chocolate frog. I have to keep the C first otherwise it could've been frogcolate or something.” Alec wanted to name everything snacks now.
The entrance of the next two people were for the most part subsided and not noticed by Alec. There was the mystery of the food-named-cactus to be solved. There was the entrance of more and eventually, Alec had to notice. A shy hi wave to the random girl who'd entered their cabin and greeted everyone in a kind enough manner. There was a second girl who did the same, maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all?
His real attention was caught when Cash entered the room. He tried not to stare. But it was hard considering everything. He was going to have to apologize for his mother at some point. They needed an apology for almost everything. Alec ducked his head under the duck, they couldn't see his face if he couldn't see theirs.
Alec's smile had appeared once more as flobberworm man started to make an announcement type thing. The bongos were pretty cool. The summary was... Do anything under school rules? Also, make other cabins fear you? War paint. In this case, they needed war paint, that's how you make people fear you. Also loud screaming for no reason. Scratch that off the list though, that was probably too far. “You'll help me with one of the crazy ideas Mr. Céspedes has offered out right?” Alec said in a haste with a smile. “At least a mini blanket fort.” Alec hadn't run out to hear the announcement as he could hear quite fine from where he was. “I think I might go grab a rock... You never know.” If Mr. Céspedes's promises about average everyday rocks were true Alec would believe it. Plus he needed something to give a snack name, Chocorog didn't fit as well as Cade.
Alec made a point to stand up before looking at the empty bottom bunk above him and glancing Cade's way. “Do you wanna be my bunkmate? If you can find a bucket and a string to tie it too. I'll drop in some jokes from my joke jar at night.” Was the offer even slightly tempting? He didn't know, but pulley systems were fun.
Welcome to the Augurey Cabin
|Interacting|
@Erin Ryan | @Evelynn Decipio | @Kazuo Shimada
|Mentioning|
-
Ruka listened intently as Erin started counting off the names of people who apparently shared his face. Four, at the same school. It did seem strange when put into that perspective. He'd thought it funny at best, the similarities between himself and his brother, had put it down to a limited gene pool, coincidence. Four of them, however?
His gaze dropped to the floor for a moment, only lifted again to listen to Erin's words about her home, her lack of decoration. "That sounds empty," he pointed out, letting his gaze drift over her bed. He doubted her lack of decoration was in any way to be attributed to a lack of money. He knew full well what it was like to have little, though where he tried to cling to everything he did have with desperation, Erin seemed almost offended with people's habit to adorn, as she called it. "Don't you have anything that's important to you? Something you like to keep around just for the sake of it being there?" His hand instinctively reached up to the flame shaped pendant dangling from his neck, and he wrapped his fingers around it for a short moment. "Something that makes you feel more like you belong here?" Her home sounded like it could belong to anybody, void of personality, less homey than even the rooms at the Leaky Cauldron.
Apparently, however, Erin didn't really feel much about anything, so sentimentalities, little trinkets and mementos were probably lost on her. It sounded horrible, the way she described it. She had a natural survival instinct, it seemed, a will to keep living, maybe, but it wasn't steered by any sensation of fear. "Do you want it? Fear. Feeling. That Boom-boom-boom." He recalled Jack talking about her pendant, how it supposedly gave her emotion. "You know what it's like, right? Do you miss it?" He didn't think he could even start to understand the inner workings of Erin, but her lack of emotion... It sounded scary to him, emotionally steered as he tended to be.
Curiously tilting his head to the side, he took in Erin's take on why there were so many people sharing the same face around the school. His eyes narrowed, he shifted marginally closer as if magnetically drawn in by her thoughts. She didn't have a damn clue, apparently, and yet... "Made," he echoed. "Like there is some kind of creator? Someone..." He wanted to talk about this more, thoroughly intrigued by the conclusions she had come to, but one look around told him that this was neither the time nor the place to go even deeper down this rabbit hole of a conversation. So many questions, he needed the opportunity to ask his endless questions without so many people around, without hunger pulling him in the direction of that barbecue he felt like he was eleven days late to by now.
His attention was caught on Erin once more as she announced the hopelessness of the situation should death witches and hags truly be one and the same. "Do you think..." More questions, too many of them. He could feel a knot in his throat, an unusual pounding of his heart. He had never quite taken the threat of hags and giants and the like serious, not really, had been concerned with finishing his education and getting out of the restricting walls of Hogwarts Castle, but in that moment...
Erin listed off more names he didn't know, a couple of them still unfamiliar. Thomas, however... Ruka shivered visibly at the thought. He needed to talk to Thomas, had already decided that but was even more assured of his decision now. They look like us... Shapeshifted into children, nothing suspicious, just another face in the crowd... Ruka squeezed his eyes shut for a moment as he took in all the information he had gotten in such a short amount of time. His urge to ask even more questions was cut off by the arrival of a familiar face.
Evelynn, it seemed, was set on sharing a bunk with Erin, appeared confident as she announced her willingness to help keep a lookout for death witches. "Evelynn," he said with a shallow bow in his fellow Gryffindor's direction. There was a smile on his face, but it was tight-lipped, his mind still caught on the conversation he had been having. He looked back at Erin, then, features smoothing out into something akin to fondness when she actually took his hair from him to examine it with what seemed to be genuine interest.
"That's what I've been told by a metamorph," he told Evelynn with a small shrug. "So unless he was giving me false facts for fun..." Thinking about it, he wouldn't exactly put it past the Caretaker to be pulling his leg, but he had shown that fact to be true with his own hair; Ruka had watched the red strand of hair revert to black after being pulled with his own eyes, and he tended to believe the things he could see for himself.
His eyes shifted back to Erin, then towards the shadows she talked about, the corners of their cabin, dimly lit and suddenly seeming much more ominous than before. The shadows were alive sometimes, the amount of vermin increased, rats bugs... He looked around himself, narrowed his eyes as if to look for any of the signs she had just described. Maybe her words were playing with his mind because he felt like reality had shifted around him. Was crazy contagious? Was it even fair to declare Erin crazy when, despite her jumbled words, she still managed to make a decent amount of sense?
He couldn't help a small laugh bubbling from his lungs when Erin off handedly declared Evelynn a death witch as well. A prefect, of course, and so willingly stepping into Erin's space too. How could she not be a death witch suspect?
The next name she voiced was familiar to him as well. Flash Holmwood. Not a prefect, just a confused kid with a thirst for knowledge and information. Ruka furrowed his brows in slight confusion when Erin pointed at the approaching Kazuo when voicing Flash's name, but maybe she was merely trying to shift attention towards the Hufflepuff's presence. She announced Kazuo something else after taking a rock from him, and Ruka wasn't quite sure whether that was a good or a bad thing. What he did think of as a bad thing was for Kazuo to be arming Erin with a rock, but he decided not to point that out, instead took one of the rocks himself with a grateful smile. He would take a long look at it, as if to learn every ridge and corner by heart, then looked up when he felt a hand curling around his own, heard a familiar voice urging him on to the barbecue. "Kaz..." He said with the beginnings of a protest on his lips.
He had so many questions left to ask, but conditions had gotten steadily worse, and he didn't exactly want to make Kazuo wait for him to grab some dinner either. "Alright," he agreed, though before leaving he would hold his rock out to Erin with a small smile. "Would you take care of mine?" he asked, would offer her a grateful grin if she accepted. What was he supposed to do with a rock anyway? If she declined, he would take a quick detour to place the rock under his pillow before joining Kazuo's side again. "Take care, Erin," he told her reluctantly. A part of him wanted to ask her to join them, though he was neither sure if Kazuo would have been alright with that, nor did he think Erin was the type to calmly attend a welcome barbecue dinner for four schools. Maybe he could bring her some food, leave a plate by her bed. Except, she would have possibly thought it was poisoned.
"Maybe we could... Talk a bit more sometime. Away from death witches." He offered her a lopsided grin and a wave, then turned to bid goodbye to Evelynn with a silly curtsy. "See you around, Evelynn," he told her, then gave Kazuo's hand a squeeze to show that he was ready to leave.
He didn't feel particularly hungry anymore.
|
|
~Hell is other people~ - Jean Paul Sartre
Stamina: 7 ~ Evasion: 10 ~ Strength: 4 ~ Wisdom: 14 ~ Arcane Power: 6 ~ Accuracy: 9
Welcome to the Augurey Cabin
Decoration, must like fashion required either emulation or a soul. Something creative. Something that brought emotion through color rather than purpose. The difference between a house and a home is the love, the comfort, the refuge that the space offered rather than the purpose, a shelter rather than a haven. Erin was beautiful because of genetics, not aesthetic choices. Of course that was all external, once people got to know her, there was no amount of mascara that would change their ultimate assessment.Interacts with: Ruka Burnett-Tân & Evelynn Decipio
Mentions: Jack Burnett & Kazuo Shimada
"That sounds empty."
It is only empty to those that recognize that something lacks. She only knew it was wrong, she could not feel it. Not like a 'normal' person would. It just was... there was no need to display memories such as photographs when you could recall those moments and why those moments in particular anyways? We display the moments that yield something to us. The moments we wish to recall more than others. Those that bring us joy. She did not have those moments. There was no favored color, no favored meal, no scent that conjures something deep within her. There was nothing there.
For those that do not know joy, there is no need for such things.
"Don't you have anything that's important to you? Something you like to keep around just for the sake of it being there?"
"Burnett," she offered with a shrug. Someone that had no use, if anything he was a detriment. A detriment to her health, her sanity and it would behoove her to see that he met a swift, timely end sooner than later. But she did not, she just abandoned any memory of him or at least tried. If she could feel, honestly feel like she had at the Blossom Ball she would hate him and rightfully so. It was only a misalignment of logic and sentiment, what she thought she should be attached to versus what she would actually feel.
"Something that makes you feel more like you belong here?"
"I don't belong," the obvious answer. She did not have what other people had but she did envy it. The relationships, both good and bad. The aspirations built on sentiment rather than hard, cold logic. The passion that was necessary to cast, to create to be more than she presently is. She was alone and she always would be. Things like friends, not just boyfriends but simply companions were unattainable. She wondered how many lies people had to tell themselves to believe that they were not alone like she was. How many lies she had to tell herself to believe that many people were like her.
They let her believe so many lies. Not just one person, but many. Everyone let her. She wondered how many of them laughed. How 'funny' Jack had to think it was to be mistook for someone else. How cruel it was to lead her on, to let her believe something was developing. She never even understood ultimately why, not that there was an excuse he could conjure that she would accept.
"Do you want it? Fear. Feeling. That Boom-boom-boom."
"Yes." Desperately so. She was willing to die for it. She was going to die for it.
"You know what it's like, right? Do you miss it?"
"Yes" but she would deny herself perennially. The shattering pain she felt was heartbreak. A desire to truly die that was more desperate than any other sensation she had felt in her whole being. The want for it to end. To feel would mean death, not a hollow one at the very least but death none-the-less [which is why she gave it to Oliver, the site rating would not allow her to completely express what she felt].
Move onto other subjects. Their like faces. There were more than what random chance could possibly offer, all emotion aside.
"Made," he echoed. "Like there is some kind of creator? Someone..."
She swallowed hard and nodded her head. "Probably," she said in a small voice. She had come to believe this, but Ruka's belief was more logical. It made sense, even if it betrayed the numbers.
Ruka would engage in a brief conversation with Evelynn about metamorphs. She was not sure if she believed any of it. Kazuo-Flash would join and gave rocks. Smooth, round rocks. Not a death witch. Still suspicious, not a death witch. Then away, he would take the almost Jack away. Abrupt. They wanted to go. They always did. She was not going to call after. She was not going to stop them. They were free sausages.
"Alright."
Ruka was leaving for poison food. Kazuo was leaving for the poison food. She presumed Evelynn would soon follow. Erin would not, she did not eat the food. "The food is bad," she claimed. Evidence of her festering paranoia.
"Would you take care of mine?"
I dub thee other rock friend. She would accept the grey stone. It was so smooth and cool and round. It was a good stone. "Something else also," she would mutter. A rock in both hands, she was doubly wealthy. More friends than she has ever had in her whole life.
"Maybe we could... Talk a bit more sometime. Away from death witches."
"They are not here," she would claim. The darkness behaved. There was no vermin. The stones were smooth and cool, dry as they lacked her warm blood. Evelynn, was a maybe witch. Erin frowned and looked at her rock friend(s), yes plural.
"See you around, Evelynn."
Ruka and Kazuo both would vacate and once their back was turned, she would take both rocks and tap them both on Evelynn. --Boop. The rocks found her to be a suitable neighbor. "You are an acceptable neighbor," she declared. "Tarantulasaurus will protect you," she promised. Too many eyes. Too many liars. She might be a liar. A set of eyes for someone else. It was not the Evelynn could be trusted, just she was not the worst case scenario.
She would have to leave also, she needed to hunt for a meal.
Also Leaving Topic
Just a trick of the lighting they said...
Welcome to the Augurey Cabin
Ah, Hogwarts. The last time I was there, there was a ball. But Astoria and I didn't stay there very long. Too much noise, too many people... We soon left. But we did have a looong visit to Hogwarts Park. And it was much better than the ball.
But that was in June. Now it's August and I've just arrived at Hogwarts Summer Camp. And I also just found out that I'm NOT IN THE SAME CABIN AS ASTORIA! No way. It's not fair. We're cousins, we stay together. That's it.- Hey, don't worry about it. This is just for all the nights we'll be here. The rest of the time we'll be together. But it'll still be a third of the time... Forget what I just said.Then she gave me a hug before leaving for her cabin. I'm still a bit worried. Why? No idea. Anyway. It is with dark thoughts that I enter the Augurey cabin. Before being amazed. It looks a bit like home. Clear, warm ... I feel at home here.
- Okay but...
- Come on, it's not that bad.
But I don't know if Astoria would have liked it. She prefers sober luxury to cosiness. I choose a high bed, tidy up my things a bit before throwing myself into an armchair with volume 6 of an excellent Muggle saga. If Muggles are not good at many things, their fantasy literature is great!
Welcome to the Augurey Cabin
interactions: open open open!!
Hello anyone can I bunk with you? Maybe one of you is from Beauxbatons it's just I really want a bunk buddy. Lovanna was pleading now she really wanted to bunk with someone but nobody had offered to bunk with her.
Lovanna gathered up her stuff went to the bedrooms and sat next to one of the beds she didn't really care who she bunked with as long as it was someone nice, and they might've become friends or vaguely met in the past.
But nobody so far had offered to be her bunk mate but she took it quite strongly as if no one liked her so she played her guitar and sang.
She was extremely good at singing and playing the guitar but she never showed anyone what she could to she hit a very high note perfectly as always. She continued singing happily and it cheered her up a lot.
She hoped no one was listening but she also wanted someone to listen to her brilliant singing, at the same time. She was always terrible at hitting low notes but she always gave it a go and mostly went with high notes instead of low notes. She was always playing her guitar and she was so good without any lessons.
Selina. K
Welcome to the Augurey Cabin
Immersed in my book full of elves, ogres and twists, I do what I usually do when I read a book. When a book is absolutely fantastic, no matter how hard I try, I can't create a character in the story. And in this case, I can't. It's because there are so many different actions and powers. The author of this book is awesome!
When I reach the end of the 36th chapter, I look up to see the light wooden ceiling. This place is beautiful. I don't understand my fears of 10 minutes ago. This place is... Cosy. And the sound of rain in the bedroom... I love that sound. Wait a second. There's more than just the sound of rain in this room!
There is also a girl singing. Is she the one playing the guitar? In any case she is very talented. I place my bookmark and get up to see. It is indeed a girl with brown hair that I see sitting on the bed next to mine, singing, guitar in hand. She doesn't see me come in. I've seen her somewhere before... At Beauxbatons, I think.- You sing really well, you know? ... I'm Eloise.