13 May 2018, 04:09
Pied Piper
Drust - whilst a decent student to be sure - was also a boy who did not enjoy being cooped up for many hours on end inside of a building. In this, Hogwarts was a perfect place to be for it was surrounded by what felt like an infinite amount of scenic mountains to look at, forests to tread lightly by, and lush fields of grass to study ones art upon. There was also a lake, although for the young Slytherin it felt more like an ocean. So large was the body of water that he often feared drowning in it, even when he did not approach it. It was so foreboding, and dark that Drust did not dare disrespect it and instead stayed several paces away - always. Sure, it was unlikely that he would drown (seeing as he knew how to swim) but his slightly irrational twelve year old mind liked to beg to differ. So, cautious he remained.
Nonetheless, it was hard to stay from the fields of grass just before the shore, that slowly disintegrated into pebble, rock and grimy sand. But unlike most students who would remain modestly diligent in their days of rest by enjoying what little sunlight Scotland had to offer or maybe trying to throw rocks at the easily irritated squid in the lake (yet another reason to stay away if you asked the Slytherin boy) Drust would practice.
It was not magic that he would practice, no, he did not have his wand out and there would be no wand waving. Not a cauldron, not a plant, nothing that would indicate something that a normal Hogwarts student might do. Instead, he had a rather long pole with him. His robes were cast aside, and his fingers were tightly wrapped around the wooden polished stick that seemed to reach out several meters outward. Thrust after thrust, swipe after swipe Drust would practice his sword techniques. The sleeves on his navy shirt were rolled up almost entirely to reveal the rest of his upper arm as he went at it. A bead of sweat or two would roll down from his forehead, or dampen his brown hair.
Exhaling aggressively, huffs and puffs would leave him as his chest would heave. He did his best, and was quickly tiring himself out. But diligent as Drust was, he was not willing to leave his practice until he was ready to collapse and so on he went the polished stick becoming more battered and less polished with each strike at the air and ground.
Nonetheless, it was hard to stay from the fields of grass just before the shore, that slowly disintegrated into pebble, rock and grimy sand. But unlike most students who would remain modestly diligent in their days of rest by enjoying what little sunlight Scotland had to offer or maybe trying to throw rocks at the easily irritated squid in the lake (yet another reason to stay away if you asked the Slytherin boy) Drust would practice.
It was not magic that he would practice, no, he did not have his wand out and there would be no wand waving. Not a cauldron, not a plant, nothing that would indicate something that a normal Hogwarts student might do. Instead, he had a rather long pole with him. His robes were cast aside, and his fingers were tightly wrapped around the wooden polished stick that seemed to reach out several meters outward. Thrust after thrust, swipe after swipe Drust would practice his sword techniques. The sleeves on his navy shirt were rolled up almost entirely to reveal the rest of his upper arm as he went at it. A bead of sweat or two would roll down from his forehead, or dampen his brown hair.
Exhaling aggressively, huffs and puffs would leave him as his chest would heave. He did his best, and was quickly tiring himself out. But diligent as Drust was, he was not willing to leave his practice until he was ready to collapse and so on he went the polished stick becoming more battered and less polished with each strike at the air and ground.
17 May 2018, 01:17
Pied Piper
It wasn't uncommon for Celena to find her classmates skipping rocks along the lakeshore, or perhaps playing a game of tag; but what she didn't expect to find on her afternoon stroll was a young boy frantically swinging a wooden pole around in the air. It hadn't occurred to the young witch that, students other than she would even have the capability to to perform such skills.
While not too exceptional, Celena did possess an average amount of skills in the art of fencing, which, was basically just the 'proper' form of true sword fighting. Of course, she had only taken a few lessons before she almost stabbed her sister, Laurelin's eye out, which caused her aunt to forbid further participation. This never stopped her love of the art, however, and she continued to study formations and tactics so that she could learn to excel at it on her own.
With all of this in mind, Celena decided that she would confront the boy and see if maybe, just maybe, they could become friends, or at the least, friendly acquaintances. It had been hard for her to make new friends at Hogwarts, and to find someone who shared such a rare, unique interest with her was a godsend. So, she summoned her courage and ran up to where he was practicing, being sure to keep a few feet of distance.
"Hey! Where'd you learn to fight like that?"
While not too exceptional, Celena did possess an average amount of skills in the art of fencing, which, was basically just the 'proper' form of true sword fighting. Of course, she had only taken a few lessons before she almost stabbed her sister, Laurelin's eye out, which caused her aunt to forbid further participation. This never stopped her love of the art, however, and she continued to study formations and tactics so that she could learn to excel at it on her own.
With all of this in mind, Celena decided that she would confront the boy and see if maybe, just maybe, they could become friends, or at the least, friendly acquaintances. It had been hard for her to make new friends at Hogwarts, and to find someone who shared such a rare, unique interest with her was a godsend. So, she summoned her courage and ran up to where he was practicing, being sure to keep a few feet of distance.
"Hey! Where'd you learn to fight like that?"
22 May 2018, 18:46
Pied Piper
Drust was wrapped up in his own world, not even noticing that someone might be staring a little to hard for comfort. It was not until the voice echoed in his head that he stopped. It was obvious that the voice spoke to him, for from what he could tell, no one else was fighting in the area. Slowly he lowered the end of the pole down to the ground, and used the edge of his sleeve to wipe at the sweat that was threatening to sting his eyes.
"My da' taught me," He responded, eyeing the Gryffindor girl. He was always cautious, he knew that this was not a traditional way to fight, especially not for wizards that very much valued dueling with wands. But for Dru, this was one of the best ways to do it. For if wands were lost, the next best thing would be a physical combat. Medieval swordsmanship, especially with the use of broadswords - something Drust was a bit too young to practice with - was something that was deeply rooted with the Noble household. Drust was a boy who lived by tradition, and dared not veer from the path given to him at birth.
He gave the girl a brief and fleeting smile. "Why?" It was not exactly a common practice to ask such an inquisitive question. In fact most of the time, it was more common to make fun of Drust for doing something so 'primitive' when dueling was the superior form of battle. That was not to say - of course - that Drust did not absolutely love dueling. But this was equally as important to him and no amount of teasing could ever make him stray from this school of thought.
"My da' taught me," He responded, eyeing the Gryffindor girl. He was always cautious, he knew that this was not a traditional way to fight, especially not for wizards that very much valued dueling with wands. But for Dru, this was one of the best ways to do it. For if wands were lost, the next best thing would be a physical combat. Medieval swordsmanship, especially with the use of broadswords - something Drust was a bit too young to practice with - was something that was deeply rooted with the Noble household. Drust was a boy who lived by tradition, and dared not veer from the path given to him at birth.
He gave the girl a brief and fleeting smile. "Why?" It was not exactly a common practice to ask such an inquisitive question. In fact most of the time, it was more common to make fun of Drust for doing something so 'primitive' when dueling was the superior form of battle. That was not to say - of course - that Drust did not absolutely love dueling. But this was equally as important to him and no amount of teasing could ever make him stray from this school of thought.
24 May 2018, 05:15
Pied Piper
From the cautious and curious look the boy gave her, and the almost forced smile that barely made itself visible on his face, Celena could tell that her genuine interest in his craft was a first.
Being in tune with sword fighting herself, she knew that it wasn't often that wizards participated in swordplay. When her aunt had discovered her newfound hobby, she was not only horrified, but also greatly disappointed. Horrified that her eleven-year-old niece was swinging around a pointed weapon, and disappointed that she would rather spend her time doing such trivial things than spend time studying spells and magical history.
All of her personal struggles aside, intuition told Celena that he was just as surprised to find someone who felt the same attraction to the art as she. She also assumed that he was most likely going to be wary of her until she proved to him that she wasn't just there to make fun of him.
"I was just curious as to where you could have learned such a skill. When I first took interest in swordplay, my aunt wouldn't let me within a mile of a sharp object. I had to teach myself." She took the opportunity to step closer to the boy so that she could continue the conversation without awkwardly shouting across the grass.
Being in tune with sword fighting herself, she knew that it wasn't often that wizards participated in swordplay. When her aunt had discovered her newfound hobby, she was not only horrified, but also greatly disappointed. Horrified that her eleven-year-old niece was swinging around a pointed weapon, and disappointed that she would rather spend her time doing such trivial things than spend time studying spells and magical history.
All of her personal struggles aside, intuition told Celena that he was just as surprised to find someone who felt the same attraction to the art as she. She also assumed that he was most likely going to be wary of her until she proved to him that she wasn't just there to make fun of him.
"I was just curious as to where you could have learned such a skill. When I first took interest in swordplay, my aunt wouldn't let me within a mile of a sharp object. I had to teach myself." She took the opportunity to step closer to the boy so that she could continue the conversation without awkwardly shouting across the grass.
24 May 2018, 18:43
Pied Piper
One hand would absentmindedly make its way to his shoulder, he rubbed and rolled the sore and stiff shoulder. Although the muscles were well warmed up from all of the swinging it still hurt after a while and needed a hot soak to feel better later. At his age, he was already experiencing the after effects of excessive exercise. Some called Drust old at heart, but truth be told, he just overdid it. A lot. It couldn't be helped when you loved something though, and Drust felt an eternal bond to his art. Even if it was a tad primitive by some standards.
"Sounds like your aunt is stuffy," He commented leaning against the stick now nonchalantly as the girl slowly closed the distance between the two of them. It didn't occur to the boy that purebloods or wizards and witches with long wizarding lineages often acted a certain way outside of his family or that certain things were required of them. Although the majority of the purebloods he had come across - especially in Slytherin - seemed to act as if they were better than others, and if that was not enough than their family made up for it. Of course, from the way the girl vaguely described her aunt he almost immediately jumped to the conclusion that her aunt was a pureblood. Why else have near a heart attack from swinging a stick?
"It's been in the family for millennia... I didn't know it before, but I do now.. We don't really live like other wizards and witches do." He wasn't necessarily allowed to divulge all of the information about the near cult like world that he lived in, but he also was not a liar. Nothing really compelled him to fabricate fictitious worlds, so instead he told the wholesome truth in most cases. Truly, Drust lacked the creativity to lie.
"Sounds like your aunt is stuffy," He commented leaning against the stick now nonchalantly as the girl slowly closed the distance between the two of them. It didn't occur to the boy that purebloods or wizards and witches with long wizarding lineages often acted a certain way outside of his family or that certain things were required of them. Although the majority of the purebloods he had come across - especially in Slytherin - seemed to act as if they were better than others, and if that was not enough than their family made up for it. Of course, from the way the girl vaguely described her aunt he almost immediately jumped to the conclusion that her aunt was a pureblood. Why else have near a heart attack from swinging a stick?
"It's been in the family for millennia... I didn't know it before, but I do now.. We don't really live like other wizards and witches do." He wasn't necessarily allowed to divulge all of the information about the near cult like world that he lived in, but he also was not a liar. Nothing really compelled him to fabricate fictitious worlds, so instead he told the wholesome truth in most cases. Truly, Drust lacked the creativity to lie.