12 May 2022, 22:32
infj, i choose you!
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─────────────────────────────────────── HOGWARTS ────────────
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Reducio
Blood trickled down the back of Draven's neck, tangling in his hair and blooming across his shirt. Whatever he could see of the hallways was a blurry mess, gray eyes unfocused as his fingers trailed across the worn bricks, digging in the divots and edges, looking for corners. He'd been up and down these corridors enough times to walk them in his sleep. But in his sleep, the ground wouldn't have been sliding out from underneath his feet and the walls would have been a straight line rather than curving around him.
And perhaps, if he was dreaming, the torches on the wall would have been a little less bright. Every time he passed one by, his eyes watered.
He made slow progress, broom clutched unsteadily in one hand. As long as he got to the infirmary, he'd be alright. The nurse would know what to do. Would know how to make the pounding headache pressing down on his brain dissipate, and return his vision to normal. Everything would be okay soon enough.
When he got to the infirmary. If he got to the infirmary. Draven slowed, hiding his stinging eyes in the crook of his elbow, blood having drained out of his face, leaving him pale and trembling. Two flights of stairs left. Three corridors.
Something told him he wouldn't be able to start moving for a while. He slid down the nearby wall, the corners of his vision beginning to darken.
And perhaps, if he was dreaming, the torches on the wall would have been a little less bright. Every time he passed one by, his eyes watered.
He made slow progress, broom clutched unsteadily in one hand. As long as he got to the infirmary, he'd be alright. The nurse would know what to do. Would know how to make the pounding headache pressing down on his brain dissipate, and return his vision to normal. Everything would be okay soon enough.
When he got to the infirmary. If he got to the infirmary. Draven slowed, hiding his stinging eyes in the crook of his elbow, blood having drained out of his face, leaving him pale and trembling. Two flights of stairs left. Three corridors.
Something told him he wouldn't be able to start moving for a while. He slid down the nearby wall, the corners of his vision beginning to darken.
Last edited by Draven Mirador on 10 Jun 2022, 15:08, edited 1 time in total.
ITS STILL RAINING. WHY IS IT STILL RAINING? sta • 13 | eva • 8 | str • 1 | wis • 15 |arc • 7 | acc • 9 |
17 May 2022, 23:13
infj, i choose you!
Credit: Scarlet Salvatore
Interacting: @Draven Mirador Mentioning:
The slow, inevitable ascent of the rising sun cast rosy rays of newborn sunlight through the windows that lined the halls, shrouding the dimly lit corridor in a hazy, temperate glow and outlining flecks of dust floating idly in the air. Soft footsteps echoed in the empty hallway, disturbing the faint layer of powder that rested on the cool stone floor.
Callista had always been an early riser, prone to waking at the slightest brush of Eos's touch. She craved the fresh air that came with the morning and dissipated with the gradual course of the day, finding the peace that came with daybreak to be as invigorating as a cool glass of water.
There was a certain tranquility that came with the early hours of the morning, a luxurious liberty to waiting for the sun, curled up reading a book for no reason other than to simply delve into its story, or else cracking open a window to get a breath of fresh air and admiring the view.
Callista had never been a rule-breaker, but today she found herself coveting the cool winds that often drifted through the towers. At 7 o'clock sharp, she was out of the common room and letting her feet take her wherever they pleased. She took her time, something she could rarely do if it were not for her early morning indulgences.
Hogwarts was unlike anywhere else she had been before, and even after two years of wandering through its halls, Callista still got a little jolt of surprise whenever she turned a corner and was faced with something unexpected. Today, the old castle felt drowsy, as if it was slowly stirring from its slumber and stretching its wings.
She put her trust in the castle, letting it guide her to where she wanted to go. For all she knew, it might lead her down to the dungeons, but after all, she was in no rush. The sharp, poignantly fresh air from a window hundreds of meters above the ground was what Callista was seeking, but the simple act of walking was enough to soothe her wandering mind.
Her wand, a constant companion ever since she had learned the cost of its absence in her first year, twirled lazily between her fingers, humming contentedly like a sunbathed cat. Barely paying attention to where she was going, Callista only paused because something caught in her peripheral vision─a trick of the light, or a flash of something dark, glistening in the reflected torchlight.
"Huh?"
The Hufflepuff almost tripped over an object laying on the floor─a stick or something of that sort. She gazed at the branch, following its trail upwards until the sight she was met with almost made her trip again─this time, out of shock. There was someone crumpled against the wall, a broom─for that was what it was, not a stick, but a knobbly broom─clutched in their hand.
Immediately, Callista crouched down with concern. "Lumos." She couldn't very well leave the student there, but she needed to know what the situation was before deciding on a course of action. The wandlight revealed what the shadows had previously hidden; there was a young boy in Slytherin robes, slumped in─was that blood on the wall?
Gently, she tapped the student on his shoulder. "Erm.. excuse me? Are you alright?"
Reducio
TLDR; Calli is wandering the halls, deciding to perhaps head to one of the towers for a breath of fresh, morning air. She spots Draven slumped against the wall and immediately goes over to check on him. She casts Lumos and tries to wake him.
| ency • #5e638d she/they |
Sta: 6 • Eva: 11 • Str: 3 • Wis: 9 • Arc: 7 • Acc: 9 perfectionist | beast master |
10 Jun 2022, 15:30
infj, i choose you!
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─────────────────────────────────────── HOGWARTS ────────────
| ─── | A flash of brilliant white light filled the hall.
Draven groaned, uttering a word that would have made his father's ears bleed, shying away from the light like a bat retreating in the comforting darkness of his cave. He was shivering slightly despite the heat, sweat having soaked in the back of his shirt, salt mixing with metal. Whoever it was crouching before him, he couldn't make out their face in the haze which had settled over the castle. "I'm fine," he croaked, fingers digging in the groves of the wall, looking for purchase. "Just a bit dizzy." His words were somewhat diminished by the blank, unfocused look he gave the person before him, his eyes watering in the obnoxiously bright light. Well, he'd certainly been better. But he'd also been worse. And if he'd gone nearly half a year without asking for help, he wasn't about to start now. Draven didn't look like himself either way. Gone was the fancy jewelry and carefully assorted ties, hundred thread count suits and elegantly styled hair. No. He'd been stripped away of all the glamour, and replaced with a boy who hadn't quite caught up with his body. Loose robes hanging off too long limbs, and hair tied sloppily back in a manbun. It seemed Draven Mirador during the midnight hours reverted back to what he really was. Someone completely unremarkable. Gritting his teeth, Draven pushed himself up to a sitting position, ignoring the wave of nausea which washed over him, making his stomach tumble. The world had tilted backwards, and it seemed the castle floor was getting its kicks by shifting ever so slightly underneath Draven, sliding out from under him. All the blood had drained out of the boy's face, not that he'd had much to begin with. The sun was just starting to come out again after months of being obscured by clouds, and whatever bronze had started to blossom across Draven's cheeks in the past couple days had vanished completely. He cleared his throat, using his broom to climb shakily to his feet. "Thank you for the concern, Ms..." he still couldn't make out her face. Either way, the yellow threaded through her outfit was all he needed to know, really. Hufflepuffs were good people. Trustworthy at the very least, he couldn't picture whoever it was standing before him going and running her mouth. He'd be satisfied if she turned the corner and disappeared. Forcing a pale smile on his face, he offered her a hand up, unsure if he'd be able to support her weight if she took it, his knees threatening to buckles as the hallway swayed. One of the armor stands nearby was watching him reproachfully. He'd spotted Deimos lurking in its cavernous depths, the corner of a fang peaking out from underneath the polished metal, huge dark eyes fixed on the two kids. Draven didn't need to speak Black Webber to know what the tiny spider was thinking. At some point during the exchange, he'd left the dormitory and found the two kids. Now, he was watching them intently, munching on the rear end of some unlucky fly. Draven rolled his eyes at the spider, and regretted it instantly. Deimos paid him no mind, quietly lifting the mouthpiece of the armor to get a better look at the girl, one hairy leg sliding out from underneath the helmet. |
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ITS STILL RAINING. WHY IS IT STILL RAINING? sta • 13 | eva • 8 | str • 1 | wis • 15 |arc • 7 | acc • 9 |