1 Jul 2018, 08:46
House of the Inferius
A weary-looking sagging edifice of stone and wood squats behind a rusted iron fence hundreds of yards away from the other buildings that were in better repair and of newer construction. The broken iron gates are twisted and parts torn away, it is obvious that some of the fence had been previously trampled and the stretched, warped remains were fitted back in place in a macabre jigsaw puzzle. The right gate lays cast aside, while the left swings lazily in the wind. The stuttering high-pitched squeal and jarring clang of the gate repeats over and over with a mindless precision. Weeds choke the terrain and press with menace upon the crooked structure itself. Yet, against the bare walls, sun-bleached and speckled with of peeling paint the uncontrolled vegetation was stomped down to create a wide clear path around the immediate periphery of the cabin. Heavy claw markings had ripped into the aged wood, revealing a pulpy flesh-like timber. Great black marks tell a story of fire. Yet the windows appeared intact and of fresh construction, likely recently replaced and in good repair. The door, battered and well used with great iron hinges that screamed as the door was assailed by your hand and yanked open which required astonishing effort [those with a Strength Score of less than 4 would have to try twice, those with a score less than 2 would have to try thrice]. The interior of the door was festooned with several deadbolts and chains that could be used to keep the outside world at bay as well as a pair of great metal hooks that could hold a great piece of timber perhaps.
The interior of the cabin is well furnished, three sets of bunkbeds and a cot lined three of the four walls. A good-sized table with seven chairs shown signs of great wear. Oddly enough there were nails, hammers, and boards piled in a space between a pair of the bunks. A great cooler was tucked away beneath the dining table, it looked as old as the Professor that was playing mother hen. The noticeable oddities would continue, the presence of runic symbols on every wall and above every window in this single room. Vials of liquid filled a dusty shelf, none of them labeled. There were also a number of bizarre 'toys' waiting for the children.
Solomon was already inside, he was planting torches, pitchforks, shovels and silvered blades in a box at the foot of his cot when you enter. He seems to be in a pleasant mood, humming as he does this. By this point surely strange rumors would abound. The friendly Professor whom seemed personable and kind was often at the heart of chaotic activity and tragic events. It was a wonder that anyone came to his cabin, well that anyone chose to be here but it was likely they were morbidly curious if the rumors were true. Some might have a death wish, others possibly thirsted for adventure.
The rafters strain feebly against their load as a gust of wind blew outside. "Welcome!" His voice as happy as ever as the armored Professor stood up to greet you. "We are going to have a fantastic summer, just you wait!" He was beaming. "This cabin does not look like the others," the Professor either parroted a question, comment, inquiry or simply offered the statement and explanation. "Learning does not end at the termination of the school year, we will be hunting evil." It sounded outlandish, like a joke. However, it was not. The professor had every intention of instructing these children. teaching these children how to defend themselves.
"Remember, no muggle devices," he reminded you and anyone else in your company.
Once the last student entered, the heavy wooden door would seem to slam shut on its own. This was going to be an interesting summer.
The interior of the cabin is well furnished, three sets of bunkbeds and a cot lined three of the four walls. A good-sized table with seven chairs shown signs of great wear. Oddly enough there were nails, hammers, and boards piled in a space between a pair of the bunks. A great cooler was tucked away beneath the dining table, it looked as old as the Professor that was playing mother hen. The noticeable oddities would continue, the presence of runic symbols on every wall and above every window in this single room. Vials of liquid filled a dusty shelf, none of them labeled. There were also a number of bizarre 'toys' waiting for the children.
- A faceless doll in a fancy, frilly dress.
- A spinning top that laughs madly when it is spun, each side of the spinning top has a picture drawn on it: a smiling face, a sad face, an angry face, and a... lets call it a "sleeping" face.
- A wind-up musical merry-go-round with figures of snarling werewolves chasing children in place of prancing horses
- A music box (like what one would hold jewelry in) with a small mirror and a twirling figure in the center that looks like a beautiful woman with long white hair but when you look at her reflection it looks like an angry Veela.
- A doll/action figure that looks exactly like you.
- A stitched up beat made from obviously different stuff bears put together. The bear is either enchanted or has a muggle noise box inside as when its belly is pressed it starts singing songs about friendship, somehow knowing its new owner (your) name.
Solomon was already inside, he was planting torches, pitchforks, shovels and silvered blades in a box at the foot of his cot when you enter. He seems to be in a pleasant mood, humming as he does this. By this point surely strange rumors would abound. The friendly Professor whom seemed personable and kind was often at the heart of chaotic activity and tragic events. It was a wonder that anyone came to his cabin, well that anyone chose to be here but it was likely they were morbidly curious if the rumors were true. Some might have a death wish, others possibly thirsted for adventure.
The rafters strain feebly against their load as a gust of wind blew outside. "Welcome!" His voice as happy as ever as the armored Professor stood up to greet you. "We are going to have a fantastic summer, just you wait!" He was beaming. "This cabin does not look like the others," the Professor either parroted a question, comment, inquiry or simply offered the statement and explanation. "Learning does not end at the termination of the school year, we will be hunting evil." It sounded outlandish, like a joke. However, it was not. The professor had every intention of instructing these children. teaching these children how to defend themselves.
"Remember, no muggle devices," he reminded you and anyone else in your company.
Once the last student entered, the heavy wooden door would seem to slam shut on its own. This was going to be an interesting summer.
Last edited by Serena Towers on 1 Jul 2018, 09:53, edited 1 time in total.
There is something about ambition, how it not only propels you but also defines you.
1 Jul 2018, 19:12
House of the Inferius
Oliver lead his group of five others to the Inferius cabin. He was practically running, super excited. He had never been camping before, so the small boys eyes were wattery with the joy of it all. He clapped as he stood before the cabin, captured by its truly outlandish looks. He knew the real experience would be with the outdoor adventurer Lear. Staying in the front, he got to the door and decided he'd be the one to open it. He pulled hard, only to find it barely budged. He pulled again, leaning back with his weight to try get it out. Only on the third heave of the door did he manage it to swing it open with a stumble backwards. He laughed and mocked the door, usually he'd be embarrassed by such a failure but this was all too good to get any negative thoughts. He pushed the screaming hinges open further and hurried in, taking a moment to absorb it all in with an open mouth. He put his hands together in awe, smiling as his eyes dazzled. He threw his big bag on the bed, choosing a bottom bunk that just happened to be on the side closest to Lear's cot.
Oliver wore light blue denim shorts and a white t-shirt, which black sketcher running shoes. His father had him well dressed his whole life, being quite the fashion expert all his life.
Oliver wiped his forehead with his forearm and looked at the other kids before his eyes widened as he spotted the toys. There was a enough toys for all of them, so he couldn't help but pick one for himself.
He ran his hands over all of them, before picking up the action figure. Oliver choked, before he nearly screamed," IT'S ME, GUYS!" as he held up the action man that now had taken the form of Oliver's chubby self. He squealed with a laugh as he looked at it, shaking it around to see the arms wiggle around.
Oliver couldn't pick a better toy. All he ever wanted was to be the hero. And now here he was, as a toy all the heroes get produced as. He beamed with joy as he looked at a miniature, stiff version of himself, rubbing his model cheek, identical to his own cheek. Oliver sat down on a chair, gripping his toy close to his chest as he looked at Lear, struggling to stay still with all this excitement.
Oliver wore light blue denim shorts and a white t-shirt, which black sketcher running shoes. His father had him well dressed his whole life, being quite the fashion expert all his life.
Oliver wiped his forehead with his forearm and looked at the other kids before his eyes widened as he spotted the toys. There was a enough toys for all of them, so he couldn't help but pick one for himself.
He ran his hands over all of them, before picking up the action figure. Oliver choked, before he nearly screamed," IT'S ME, GUYS!" as he held up the action man that now had taken the form of Oliver's chubby self. He squealed with a laugh as he looked at it, shaking it around to see the arms wiggle around.
Oliver couldn't pick a better toy. All he ever wanted was to be the hero. And now here he was, as a toy all the heroes get produced as. He beamed with joy as he looked at a miniature, stiff version of himself, rubbing his model cheek, identical to his own cheek. Oliver sat down on a chair, gripping his toy close to his chest as he looked at Lear, struggling to stay still with all this excitement.
Reducio
Bed picked: Bottom-bunk, bunk closest to Lear.
Toy picked: Action figure.
Toy picked: Action figure.
1 Jul 2018, 20:17
House of the Inferius
As she approached the cabin she had signed up for, Clarisse started to wonder whether she had made a big mistake in her choice. Everything seemed to be derelict and abandoned, from the disrepair of the main building to the rusty fence that surrounded it. Death and disrepair seemed to cling to the building and the girl stood in front of it, clutching her bag, and wondering if it was too late to go back and ask for a cabin change.
She was no Gryffindor for a reason.
The high pitched screech of the gate, followed by the clanging, moved rhythmically, settling to an afterthought in her mind. She had in mind to close it, to stop the annoying noise, but the gates were twisted and torn to a point where a single touch could probably break them. And if it didn't break them, the gate looked like it wouldn't ever open again.
Something made a stray noise. She didn't know what - maybe it was just another screech of the gate, or a nearby owl - but Clarisse's mind, tainted by the scratch marks on the building and the haunting nature of it all, leapt past the mundane and onto the monstrous. At once, what lay inside the building didn't seem as bad as what could be outside. Inside, she had four walls to protect her, and the other children around her. With fear the only motivator, she was already through the gates, almost sprinting down the cleared path.
Her hands - she hadn't noticed before, but they might have been shaking - found the door handle and she heaved, feeling the strain in her muscles as her feet slipped in the ground. Her grip left her and she had to focus on her balance, abandoning the door. With more determination this time, she took hold of the handle with two hands, groaning as she struggled again. But the girl was too weak to budge it open, and had to give up. Was the sweat on her face because of fear or the physical effort of opening this door?
She tried again. This time, if she didn't managed to open the door, she was going to run away to another cabin and hope they wouldn't mind her sleeping in a corner. Clarisse was almost hoping she wouldn't be able to. But the door seemed to unstick the third time round, and screamed as she pried it from the frame.
Nervously, she glanced in. Her eyes flitted through the darkness, making out what lay beyond. Bunkbeds, chairs, the normal furniture she'd expect inside the cabins. Good, sturdy looking furniture. If it hadn't been for the rest, she'd had felt comfortable inside the cabin, if not outside.
But the rest of the room warned of something, although the Ravenclaw couldn't tell what. Boards, and tools to hammer them up. Runes marked the walls. Clarisse knew what they were, but not what they were for. And the Professor, the old and friendly Professor, was shoving pitchforks and blades into a box near his bed.
He was the reason she had come. There were rumours and the Ravenclaw had questions. Questions that might be answered if she chose his cabin - this cursed cabin - over the rest. Questions that were already being replaced with new ones.
Clarisse smiled to the greeting, feeling her throat stuff up. His voice was happy and cheerful and for a second she wanted to believe that the cabin was only made up like this for the fun of it, rather than some mysterious dangerous reason. As she stood, paralysed in silence, her chest groaned. Why hunt evil when they could flee from it? Why hunt evil when evil was best avoided?
Unable to say something, she nodded, before grabbing the bottom bunk furthest from the Professor.
Her hand landed on her physics book as the Professor gave his reminder. Deciding to leave it - and anything similar - in her bag, she pulled out only the magical titles. Even on summer camp, she was bringing books. The pile settled just under her bunk, where she could reach them: Clarisse didn't want to have to dig too far underneath to get to them.
An excited shout from Oliver broke the tension, the girl almost jumping out of her skin. He had picked up on a collection of toys. Although Clarisse considered herself too old to fuss with toys, these were not normal toys at all. The collection of misfit toys each seemed to be haunted in their own ways. Would they really have to sleep under the same roof as them? She had seen enough Muggle horror films to know creepy dolls and wind-up toys were more than they seemed. With a chill running up her spine, she took one. She didn't know why she took one. Perhaps she just wanted to see what it was.
It was a bear, a Frankenstein bear. The arms did not match each other. One ear was large and fluffy, the other a flat piece of crimson fabric. One leg was significantly longer than the other. She didn't want to know where the rest of the bear pieces had gone. As she gripped it, her thumb pushed into the stomach, and like a muggle toy that activated on touch, a noise started seeping out of it.
Like a broken record player, it started to sing, from the middle of a song the girl didn't recognise. "-Best friends forever, you and me. You are my special friend, Clarisse."
The girl almost jumped out of her own skin. How did it know her name? How did it know her name?
In a moment of shock, she threw it away from her, letting it crash against the wall and land on her bed. Great. Now she wasn't going to sleep all night. In panic, she glanced over to the other children. Oliver in particular. Excitement rippled through him. He was pressing an action figure to his face. An action figure that looked identical to him. Was she the only one who wasn't crazy?
"I want to go home," she found herself saying, out loud, for the first time since she had come to Hogwarts. Then she shuddered, and gripped onto her top tightly with both hands, wrapping the fabric over her fingers to stop her hands shaking as much. "I want to go home," she repeated, much softer this time. She meant it, as she said it, too.
She was no Gryffindor for a reason.
The high pitched screech of the gate, followed by the clanging, moved rhythmically, settling to an afterthought in her mind. She had in mind to close it, to stop the annoying noise, but the gates were twisted and torn to a point where a single touch could probably break them. And if it didn't break them, the gate looked like it wouldn't ever open again.
Something made a stray noise. She didn't know what - maybe it was just another screech of the gate, or a nearby owl - but Clarisse's mind, tainted by the scratch marks on the building and the haunting nature of it all, leapt past the mundane and onto the monstrous. At once, what lay inside the building didn't seem as bad as what could be outside. Inside, she had four walls to protect her, and the other children around her. With fear the only motivator, she was already through the gates, almost sprinting down the cleared path.
Her hands - she hadn't noticed before, but they might have been shaking - found the door handle and she heaved, feeling the strain in her muscles as her feet slipped in the ground. Her grip left her and she had to focus on her balance, abandoning the door. With more determination this time, she took hold of the handle with two hands, groaning as she struggled again. But the girl was too weak to budge it open, and had to give up. Was the sweat on her face because of fear or the physical effort of opening this door?
She tried again. This time, if she didn't managed to open the door, she was going to run away to another cabin and hope they wouldn't mind her sleeping in a corner. Clarisse was almost hoping she wouldn't be able to. But the door seemed to unstick the third time round, and screamed as she pried it from the frame.
Nervously, she glanced in. Her eyes flitted through the darkness, making out what lay beyond. Bunkbeds, chairs, the normal furniture she'd expect inside the cabins. Good, sturdy looking furniture. If it hadn't been for the rest, she'd had felt comfortable inside the cabin, if not outside.
But the rest of the room warned of something, although the Ravenclaw couldn't tell what. Boards, and tools to hammer them up. Runes marked the walls. Clarisse knew what they were, but not what they were for. And the Professor, the old and friendly Professor, was shoving pitchforks and blades into a box near his bed.
He was the reason she had come. There were rumours and the Ravenclaw had questions. Questions that might be answered if she chose his cabin - this cursed cabin - over the rest. Questions that were already being replaced with new ones.
Clarisse smiled to the greeting, feeling her throat stuff up. His voice was happy and cheerful and for a second she wanted to believe that the cabin was only made up like this for the fun of it, rather than some mysterious dangerous reason. As she stood, paralysed in silence, her chest groaned. Why hunt evil when they could flee from it? Why hunt evil when evil was best avoided?
Unable to say something, she nodded, before grabbing the bottom bunk furthest from the Professor.
Her hand landed on her physics book as the Professor gave his reminder. Deciding to leave it - and anything similar - in her bag, she pulled out only the magical titles. Even on summer camp, she was bringing books. The pile settled just under her bunk, where she could reach them: Clarisse didn't want to have to dig too far underneath to get to them.
An excited shout from Oliver broke the tension, the girl almost jumping out of her skin. He had picked up on a collection of toys. Although Clarisse considered herself too old to fuss with toys, these were not normal toys at all. The collection of misfit toys each seemed to be haunted in their own ways. Would they really have to sleep under the same roof as them? She had seen enough Muggle horror films to know creepy dolls and wind-up toys were more than they seemed. With a chill running up her spine, she took one. She didn't know why she took one. Perhaps she just wanted to see what it was.
It was a bear, a Frankenstein bear. The arms did not match each other. One ear was large and fluffy, the other a flat piece of crimson fabric. One leg was significantly longer than the other. She didn't want to know where the rest of the bear pieces had gone. As she gripped it, her thumb pushed into the stomach, and like a muggle toy that activated on touch, a noise started seeping out of it.
Like a broken record player, it started to sing, from the middle of a song the girl didn't recognise. "-Best friends forever, you and me. You are my special friend, Clarisse."
The girl almost jumped out of her own skin. How did it know her name? How did it know her name?
In a moment of shock, she threw it away from her, letting it crash against the wall and land on her bed. Great. Now she wasn't going to sleep all night. In panic, she glanced over to the other children. Oliver in particular. Excitement rippled through him. He was pressing an action figure to his face. An action figure that looked identical to him. Was she the only one who wasn't crazy?
"I want to go home," she found herself saying, out loud, for the first time since she had come to Hogwarts. Then she shuddered, and gripped onto her top tightly with both hands, wrapping the fabric over her fingers to stop her hands shaking as much. "I want to go home," she repeated, much softer this time. She meant it, as she said it, too.
Character Page Sta1, Agi5, Str1, Con10, Arc7, Acc6
2 Jul 2018, 06:12
House of the Inferius
Aurelia didn't expect that the bunk she had sign up for would be an old creepy house. The fence surrounding it was red with rust and made a terrible squeaking noise as the summer wind blew at it. The house had scratches on its sides, Aurelia could only guess what creature made such deep marks.
Initially, Aurelia had chosen the cabin because of its name, inferius. It was zombie like creature and it would be useful for telling ghosts stories at night. Also, she knew two of the bunkmates, Rosie and Howie, she didn't want to spend the nights with people she hardly knew... Especially not Slytherins.
A few students seemed almost too eager to enter the old house. Perhaps they couldn't stand the squeaking of the fence? Aurelia was also starting to get annoyed from the excruciating noise. A few of them had trouble with the door and it took many yanks for them to get it open before it slammed shut again. Aurelia stood in front of the old wooden door, there were nails sticking out from it. She put her hand on the door and with a slight pull, the door had opened. The brunette smirked as she stepped in, leaving the door to slam shut once more. It was either that the other students were weak or that she was strong. She didn't think it took very much effort.
Aurelia heaved a sigh, relieved that the interior looked more normal than the exterior with sturdy chairs and bunkbeds. There were three bunkbeds, two of them were already occupied at the bottom and only one was empty. She decided to leave the empty one for both Rosie and Howie. There seemed to be something going on with the two, Aurelia had even heard rumours about the two of them being in a relationship. The brunette chose thetop bunk nearest to the professor and above a boy who had a strange toy in his hand.
"where did you get that?" Aurelia asked.
Having learnt both gymnastic and contempary ballet at a young age, it had allowed the girl to flip her legs around the bar effortlessly so her feet were facing the ground while her head and torso was still upside down. Slowly, she losenned the grip on the bar and she landed on the ground on her toes.
"Sweet,"the girl eagerly grabbed a toy from the shelf. She had chosen a top that had different expressions on each of it's sides.
"I wonder what this does," she murmered under her breath. A top would do what all top does, spin. Aurelia put it between her thumb and index finger and it dropped it onto the floor. It began laughing menacingly as it spun.
"Come on, don't let a few friendly magical teddy bears scare you." The brunette said to the terrified girl. Aurelia had other plans in mind, she wasn't going to let her bunkmates sleep so easily during the night. She was going to have some fun.
She leaned closer to the girl. "The teddies aren't the ones you should be afraid of. The inferi only come out at night so its safe... At least for now." She whispered into the girls ear in a somewhat dark and mysterious voice before turning around and skipping towards her bunk bed. She climbed back up and continued unpacking her stuff. The girl took out a few fun snacks which she had purchased in hogsmaede and laid them on her bed.
Initially, Aurelia had chosen the cabin because of its name, inferius. It was zombie like creature and it would be useful for telling ghosts stories at night. Also, she knew two of the bunkmates, Rosie and Howie, she didn't want to spend the nights with people she hardly knew... Especially not Slytherins.
A few students seemed almost too eager to enter the old house. Perhaps they couldn't stand the squeaking of the fence? Aurelia was also starting to get annoyed from the excruciating noise. A few of them had trouble with the door and it took many yanks for them to get it open before it slammed shut again. Aurelia stood in front of the old wooden door, there were nails sticking out from it. She put her hand on the door and with a slight pull, the door had opened. The brunette smirked as she stepped in, leaving the door to slam shut once more. It was either that the other students were weak or that she was strong. She didn't think it took very much effort.
Aurelia heaved a sigh, relieved that the interior looked more normal than the exterior with sturdy chairs and bunkbeds. There were three bunkbeds, two of them were already occupied at the bottom and only one was empty. She decided to leave the empty one for both Rosie and Howie. There seemed to be something going on with the two, Aurelia had even heard rumours about the two of them being in a relationship. The brunette chose thetop bunk nearest to the professor and above a boy who had a strange toy in his hand.
He had exclaimed a bit to loudly, making Aurelia jump slightly as she was unpacking her stuff. The bunk bed had a wooden bar across it, most likely to ensure that nobody would fall when they were a sleep. However, Aurelia had a different idea about its use. She gripped on to the wooden bar tightly, hooked her knee across it and flipped over. half of her body was now dangling from the top bunk, her long brown hair slight brushing onto the floor below . She glanced towards the boy, the doll in his hand was now identical to him.IT'S ME, GUYS!"
"where did you get that?" Aurelia asked.
She had found her answer as her head whipped around to see a ravenclaw girl in front of a shelf with a toy bear clutched in her hand. The girl shown obvious digust as she threw the bear across the room.Best friends forever, you and me. You are my special friend, Clarisse."
Having learnt both gymnastic and contempary ballet at a young age, it had allowed the girl to flip her legs around the bar effortlessly so her feet were facing the ground while her head and torso was still upside down. Slowly, she losenned the grip on the bar and she landed on the ground on her toes.
"Sweet,"the girl eagerly grabbed a toy from the shelf. She had chosen a top that had different expressions on each of it's sides.
"I wonder what this does," she murmered under her breath. A top would do what all top does, spin. Aurelia put it between her thumb and index finger and it dropped it onto the floor. It began laughing menacingly as it spun.
she heard the other girl say. The girl had a frightened look on her face as she stared down at her own hands which were dhaking. Aurelia almost blurted out laughing but she didn't think it was right to do so, after all, most eleven year olds would be creeped out by haunted magical toys.I want to go home
"Come on, don't let a few friendly magical teddy bears scare you." The brunette said to the terrified girl. Aurelia had other plans in mind, she wasn't going to let her bunkmates sleep so easily during the night. She was going to have some fun.
She leaned closer to the girl. "The teddies aren't the ones you should be afraid of. The inferi only come out at night so its safe... At least for now." She whispered into the girls ear in a somewhat dark and mysterious voice before turning around and skipping towards her bunk bed. She climbed back up and continued unpacking her stuff. The girl took out a few fun snacks which she had purchased in hogsmaede and laid them on her bed.
Bunk: Above Oliver
Toy: Laughing Top
Reducio
Thanks Lear, for not creating any rules for our bunk, the others have a whole list they have to abide by! BTW, it's inferius.
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“One can never be too careful,” STM — 5 | EVA — 19 | STR — 5 | WSD — 12 | ARC — 5 | ACC — 9 |
Lovely Creature — Evasive Manoeuvres — Monster Hunter — Terrible Presence
2 Jul 2018, 23:48
House of the Inferius
Rosie approached the cabin. Her apprehension showed on her face and it doubled when she saw the cabin in the distance. She glanced behind her, and considered turning back for a moment. Taking a deep breath she turned back to the gate that had been fitted together like Frankenstein. She had to do this. Her mother wasn't ready. Maybe one more month away would give her mother time. If Rosie was honest with herself, she didn't really want to go home yet.
She pushed open the gate open with a loud squeal and she cringed against the noise. As she walked through the overgrown yard, she felt like Snow White from the movie when she was running from the hunter. She groaned when she saw the door and instinctively looked around. Great. Did she need to be worried about a were wolf somewhere? Or worse?
She grabbed the handle of the door and tried to open it. It didn't budge. On her second attempt, her hands betrayed her and she wound up on her bottom. Standing, she shook her hands like she was shaking off the nerves and misgivings of the trip. She wrapped her fingers around the door handle one last time and pulled with all of her might. This time, it gave way. She took a step inside and gave a soft "Hmm..." The interior wasn't bad. Well that was aside from the pile of boards, nails, and hammers. She wondered briefly if Lear expected them to board the window in case whatever had done that to the door came back and she shivered.
There was one last empty set of bunks and she put her stuff on the bottom one. Howie struck her as a top bunk kind of person. She noticed the he didn't seem to be here yet and couldn't help but wonder if this set of bunks had been left open on purpose. Had news of their relationship gotten out?
Aside from Howie, there was another student there that she knew. "Hello, Aurelia." She smiled warmly. Noticing the toys for the first time. Her brows furrowed as the chubby boy picked up the miniature version of himself. There seemed to be one of them all. But that wasn't what interested Rosie. Nor was it the Franken-bear or the Joker top. No, her eyes settled on the music box. She moved to it like she was in a trance. It reminded her of the one that she had growing up. She leaned over and picked it. She opened it up and was immediately struck with how pretty the dancer was. The small figurine turned on her pedestal until her face was in view of the mirror. The face changed, turning into an angry Veela. Rosie jumped back in surprise and dropped the music box. She looked at Aruelia and the other students. "What kind of creepy toys are these?"
She pushed open the gate open with a loud squeal and she cringed against the noise. As she walked through the overgrown yard, she felt like Snow White from the movie when she was running from the hunter. She groaned when she saw the door and instinctively looked around. Great. Did she need to be worried about a were wolf somewhere? Or worse?
She grabbed the handle of the door and tried to open it. It didn't budge. On her second attempt, her hands betrayed her and she wound up on her bottom. Standing, she shook her hands like she was shaking off the nerves and misgivings of the trip. She wrapped her fingers around the door handle one last time and pulled with all of her might. This time, it gave way. She took a step inside and gave a soft "Hmm..." The interior wasn't bad. Well that was aside from the pile of boards, nails, and hammers. She wondered briefly if Lear expected them to board the window in case whatever had done that to the door came back and she shivered.
There was one last empty set of bunks and she put her stuff on the bottom one. Howie struck her as a top bunk kind of person. She noticed the he didn't seem to be here yet and couldn't help but wonder if this set of bunks had been left open on purpose. Had news of their relationship gotten out?
Aside from Howie, there was another student there that she knew. "Hello, Aurelia." She smiled warmly. Noticing the toys for the first time. Her brows furrowed as the chubby boy picked up the miniature version of himself. There seemed to be one of them all. But that wasn't what interested Rosie. Nor was it the Franken-bear or the Joker top. No, her eyes settled on the music box. She moved to it like she was in a trance. It reminded her of the one that she had growing up. She leaned over and picked it. She opened it up and was immediately struck with how pretty the dancer was. The small figurine turned on her pedestal until her face was in view of the mirror. The face changed, turning into an angry Veela. Rosie jumped back in surprise and dropped the music box. She looked at Aruelia and the other students. "What kind of creepy toys are these?"
Reducio
Bunk: Bottom bunk of the empty bunk
Toy: music box
Toy: music box
Stamina: 6 Agility: 6 Strength: 1 Control: 7 Arcane Power: 4 Accuracy: 6
3 Jul 2018, 05:54
House of the Inferius
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Nota res mala, optima.
The Latin phrase came to him as he crossed the threshold leading towards the cabin that was to be his home for one long month. An evil thing known is best the phrase said, and this held true for Dorian. The creaking gate, the foreboding presence, the lingering feeling that something just wasn't right. It wasn't for the cabin that the phrase was intended, but rather, the man who had been the author of its design. Solomon Lear. He was the evil of which the phrase spoke, and Dorian believed this to be a fact beyond a shadow of a doubt. The phrase, to him, spoke of Professor Lear as that evil that all should fear. But he was a known evil. One that everyone accepted. An evil that had made his position clear time and again even if his little adventures hadn't bellowed their vile wickedness from the rooftops.
And yet, there were still those that were attracted like moths to a brilliant flame.
Dorian was one of such, very aware of the fact as he reached the screaming left gate and stepped through with a steely finality. There would be no turning back. The door -poor thing had seen better days- crept closer until it stood face to face with the boy. Ready for whatever lies beyond, Dorian reached for the knob, turned, and opened with some effort, taking the first steps inside. Just as he entered the door slammed shut behind him, but by now he thought himself an expert at things regarding Professor Lear, and as such the sound did little by way of startling him. Though he was painfully aware of the fact that he was now locked in. A quick scan of the place surprised him as he took note of the well-furnished abode. There were three bunk beds, all of which seemed occupied save for two with the top bunks still free. The Professor was busy tucking away...something. Was that a pitchfork? The runic splayed everywhere did not bode well. The four others within seemed to have begun to entertain themselves in one way or another, all of which involved some strange toys that they had all found.
Buttering them up before the slaughter.
One of them he recognized. Her name was Aurelia, and he knew her only from their shared position as Writers. He had even featured her in one of his articles. He had entered just in time to hear a red-haired girl ask the question that he was asking himself. The toys. What was their purpose? Did the Professor think them to still be so young as to play with toys? Regardless, the others, or most of them at least, seemed to have found something that interested them. There was a boy with a doll that looked just like him. The girl who had spoken had taken up what appeared to be a music box. Aurelia had a top that laughed maniacally as it spun, and the other girl seemed to have chosen nothing. She looked frightened out of her wits. Dorian walked in her direction and stood at the foot of the bunk looking at her. "It's just Professor Lear trying to scare us. We'll be fine as long as we don't give him the satisfaction of seeing us break." The boy had raised his voice some, hoping the Professor had heard him. He wasn't scared.
Or at least, he hoped he wasn't.
He claimed the top bunk above the frightened girl for himself and then made his way over to the toys, squinting at them as if they were the most sinister thing he had ever seen. Only one caught his eye for reasons that he did not yet know. The faceless doll in the dress. Holding it in his hands and peering at its face, he stared long and hard at the ominous reality that such a toy portrayed. Dorian could not imagine a little girl of sound mind playing with such a thing, for surely the lack of a face left much to the imagination, something that kids had in spades, fueling the reason for his assumption. Imagination could be as dreadful as it was beautiful, and a faceless doll did nothing but elicit dread. Or maybe he had watched too many horror films. The Professor spoke up then, and the more he spoke, the more Dorian became convinced that the man had a wellspring of darkness residing within. What were those words?
Nota res mala, optima.
╚════════════════════════════════════════════╝
✸
✸ Claimed the bed above Clarisse
✸ Picked up the Faceless Doll in the Fancy, Frilly Dress
✧Improvidus, Apto quod Victum✧
Stam: 3, Agi: 3, Str: 4, Con: 7, Arc: 7, Acc: 6
3 Jul 2018, 07:36
House of the Inferius
The decision to stay at Hogwarts for summer camp had been a difficult one to make. Howie yearned to see his parents after the long school year, but the opportunity to experience one last adventure before entering his second year had been too great a pull. Not to mention there was a certain young red head that was in attendance as well.
Howie strolled across the grounds, dressed in forest green cargo shorts, his father’s old hiking boots, and a fitted white tee shirt, his pack slung over his shoulder. The summer heat was in full effect as his brow dripped with sweat, his hair clinging to his face. As he crested a hill, squinting against the sun, he saw the figures of five students approaching a derelict building, far removed from the rest of the cabins. The House of the Inferius, if he had followed the directions clearly. The word itself had no meaning to him, for he had never heard it before. Howie smiled, it seemed quite the appropriate dwelling to spend camp with Professor Lear. It was old, scarred, and had a mysterious presence, just like him. Shifting his pack to the other shoulder he set off towards the building, the summer adventure had begun.
The young Hufflepuff approached the broken iron gates that lead to the lawn of the the cabin. The fence surrounding the property was rusted, looking as it had been broken through and repaired several times. Howie wondered what creature or creatures had once been held here. The left gate swung freely in the wind, making a very disturbing noise. An easy fix with a bit of WD-40, but you know, no muggle stuff. The right gate laid broken on the ground.
He passed through the thresdhold of the property, the grounds very overgrown with weeds and grass. Fortunately a path had been cleared for them. As Howie approached the building he saw the deep claw marks against the old wood, the paint that had once covered it barely there. He stepped closer to inspect them, running his fingers over the grooves, comparing his hand size to what had left the marks. Whatever it was, it was big.
The windows of the building seemed new, but the areas around them looked scorched, a clear sign of fire damage. Again, Howie smiled to himself. Hufflepuffs and fire had become synonymous. He made his way to the door of the cabin. Two iron rings served as door handles. Howie rolled his eyes, typical wizard nonsense. What was wrong with regular doors?! He reached out to grab the the handle and made to pull the door open. It wouldn’t budge. It took all of his strength to pry it open, grunting from the excursion, the door screamed in protest. Howie slipped through and entered the building, the door immediately slamming shut behind him.
Taking a deep breathe, Howie checked his surroundings. The interior of the cabin was quite different from its outer shell, it was cozy. He spotted Professor Lear, knelt down by his cot, packing away an assortment of tools. His booming voice called out in greeting, promising a great summer and that they would be hunting evil. Most excellent! With Lear involved it was sure to be interesting, but he had yet to get them killed. Although Howie didn’t know his Head Of House all to well, he trusted him. “Hello Professor.”
Continuing his search of the cabin, Howie spotted the rest of his camp mates, all surrounding three sets of bunks. He didn’t recognize three of them. There was a chubby young lad, a brunette girl who appeared scared out of her mind, and a handsome dark haired boy. The other two were familiar faces. Aurelia from Gryffindor, and the young red head of his dreams, Rosie. Howie dropped his pack and quickly walked over to her, wrapping her up in a hug. “Hey Rosie! This place is...interesting.” He released his hold on her. Turning to the rest of the group he gave them all a welcoming smile. “Hey Aurelia, how are ya? Hey guys, names Howie. Nice to meet ya.”
He noticed that most of the others were all holding weird random toys in their hands. Looking around confused he saw that there was one left on the table. It appeared to be a small replica of a merry go round, however instead of the usual scene of horses, this one had werewolves chasing children. How pleasant. Howie scooped it up, and readied himself for further instructions.
Howie strolled across the grounds, dressed in forest green cargo shorts, his father’s old hiking boots, and a fitted white tee shirt, his pack slung over his shoulder. The summer heat was in full effect as his brow dripped with sweat, his hair clinging to his face. As he crested a hill, squinting against the sun, he saw the figures of five students approaching a derelict building, far removed from the rest of the cabins. The House of the Inferius, if he had followed the directions clearly. The word itself had no meaning to him, for he had never heard it before. Howie smiled, it seemed quite the appropriate dwelling to spend camp with Professor Lear. It was old, scarred, and had a mysterious presence, just like him. Shifting his pack to the other shoulder he set off towards the building, the summer adventure had begun.
The young Hufflepuff approached the broken iron gates that lead to the lawn of the the cabin. The fence surrounding the property was rusted, looking as it had been broken through and repaired several times. Howie wondered what creature or creatures had once been held here. The left gate swung freely in the wind, making a very disturbing noise. An easy fix with a bit of WD-40, but you know, no muggle stuff. The right gate laid broken on the ground.
He passed through the thresdhold of the property, the grounds very overgrown with weeds and grass. Fortunately a path had been cleared for them. As Howie approached the building he saw the deep claw marks against the old wood, the paint that had once covered it barely there. He stepped closer to inspect them, running his fingers over the grooves, comparing his hand size to what had left the marks. Whatever it was, it was big.
The windows of the building seemed new, but the areas around them looked scorched, a clear sign of fire damage. Again, Howie smiled to himself. Hufflepuffs and fire had become synonymous. He made his way to the door of the cabin. Two iron rings served as door handles. Howie rolled his eyes, typical wizard nonsense. What was wrong with regular doors?! He reached out to grab the the handle and made to pull the door open. It wouldn’t budge. It took all of his strength to pry it open, grunting from the excursion, the door screamed in protest. Howie slipped through and entered the building, the door immediately slamming shut behind him.
Taking a deep breathe, Howie checked his surroundings. The interior of the cabin was quite different from its outer shell, it was cozy. He spotted Professor Lear, knelt down by his cot, packing away an assortment of tools. His booming voice called out in greeting, promising a great summer and that they would be hunting evil. Most excellent! With Lear involved it was sure to be interesting, but he had yet to get them killed. Although Howie didn’t know his Head Of House all to well, he trusted him. “Hello Professor.”
Continuing his search of the cabin, Howie spotted the rest of his camp mates, all surrounding three sets of bunks. He didn’t recognize three of them. There was a chubby young lad, a brunette girl who appeared scared out of her mind, and a handsome dark haired boy. The other two were familiar faces. Aurelia from Gryffindor, and the young red head of his dreams, Rosie. Howie dropped his pack and quickly walked over to her, wrapping her up in a hug. “Hey Rosie! This place is...interesting.” He released his hold on her. Turning to the rest of the group he gave them all a welcoming smile. “Hey Aurelia, how are ya? Hey guys, names Howie. Nice to meet ya.”
He noticed that most of the others were all holding weird random toys in their hands. Looking around confused he saw that there was one left on the table. It appeared to be a small replica of a merry go round, however instead of the usual scene of horses, this one had werewolves chasing children. How pleasant. Howie scooped it up, and readied himself for further instructions.
Claims bunk above Rosie.
Picks up the musical merry go round.
5 Jul 2018, 09:51
House of the Inferius
Aurelia took out a packet of pepper imps. According to the sweet shop in hogsmaede, honeydukes, it was said to allow the consumer to breathe out fire. The girl knew that wizard candies had special effects in them. She hadnt had a chance to try any of them. However she was quite skeptical that as sweet would allow one to breathe fire. Wouldn't then be tons of people with burnt tongues?
" Hey Rosie I didn't see you come in! She greeted her. If Rosie was here than Howie wouldn't be to far away. She had a lot of questions to ask about their relationship or whether the rumors were true or not. The old wooden door groaned open once more. Aurelia's head turned expecting to see Howie but a dark haired boy entered instead. Aurelia knew him. They both were writers for Gryffindor. Dorian Gray. She had interviewed him once to be featured on his article. He had earn need as staggering amount if a hundred points for Gryffindor in the month of April, it was something Aurelia could never achieve with her grade A averages.
The door groaned once more. Finally Howie had arrived. He immediately walked towards Rosie and embraced her in a tight hug. There was indeed something between the two.
" eeew... Howie, your going to give Rosie COOTIES!" Aurelia exclaimed jokingly after the boy had introduced himself to everyone.
The view was odd upside down but Aurelia liked it, it reminded her about her gymnastics lessons she took in her home town of Cheshire. She could wait to go home after the month ended. Now that everyone was in the bunk, Aurelia hoped that the month would go smoothly.
Someone greeted her from below. The girl as usual hooked her leg across the bar at her beside and hung upside down. She saw a familiar red head girl.Hello, Aurelia
" Hey Rosie I didn't see you come in! She greeted her. If Rosie was here than Howie wouldn't be to far away. She had a lot of questions to ask about their relationship or whether the rumors were true or not. The old wooden door groaned open once more. Aurelia's head turned expecting to see Howie but a dark haired boy entered instead. Aurelia knew him. They both were writers for Gryffindor. Dorian Gray. She had interviewed him once to be featured on his article. He had earn need as staggering amount if a hundred points for Gryffindor in the month of April, it was something Aurelia could never achieve with her grade A averages.
The door groaned once more. Finally Howie had arrived. He immediately walked towards Rosie and embraced her in a tight hug. There was indeed something between the two.
" eeew... Howie, your going to give Rosie COOTIES!" Aurelia exclaimed jokingly after the boy had introduced himself to everyone.
The view was odd upside down but Aurelia liked it, it reminded her about her gymnastics lessons she took in her home town of Cheshire. She could wait to go home after the month ended. Now that everyone was in the bunk, Aurelia hoped that the month would go smoothly.
ACTIONS: Hang upside down and interact with Howie and Rosie
Reducio
I had owled Lear. He said we could post as much as we want.
|
“One can never be too careful,” STM — 5 | EVA — 19 | STR — 5 | WSD — 12 | ARC — 5 | ACC — 9 |
Lovely Creature — Evasive Manoeuvres — Monster Hunter — Terrible Presence
6 Jul 2018, 16:46
House of the Inferius
Oliver stepped over to Clarisse, looking at her with confusion. He couldn't understand what problem there could be, he himself was extremely excited. Patting her on the back, he smiled to her, moving back and forth on the heels of his feet. "There's nothing to worry about, Clarisse, we're surrounded by Professors! " he exclaimed and then put his new toy in front of her, showing her that it was him! It was unusual to see a chubby action figure, but the toy itself was unusual. Oliver lined the toy up into a high kick stance and made some fighting sound effect to suit.
When he heard Aurelia, he gave a fake little laugh and looked at her. She was a bit mean, or just a rough joking. He looked down and realised she had taken the bed above him. Hopefully she would be nice to him, but knowing Oliver's luck, there was small hope.
"Get excited, Clarisse, this is fun!" He jumped and looked around for something to point out to cheer her up, really not wanting her to leave seemingly. "Look, Lear is even here! I've never been so close to him," he let out a happy sigh as he looked at the professor up and down, talking at an audible volume, not minding if the old man heard.
When he heard Aurelia, he gave a fake little laugh and looked at her. She was a bit mean, or just a rough joking. He looked down and realised she had taken the bed above him. Hopefully she would be nice to him, but knowing Oliver's luck, there was small hope.
"Get excited, Clarisse, this is fun!" He jumped and looked around for something to point out to cheer her up, really not wanting her to leave seemingly. "Look, Lear is even here! I've never been so close to him," he let out a happy sigh as he looked at the professor up and down, talking at an audible volume, not minding if the old man heard.
8 Jul 2018, 19:34
House of the Inferius
The derelict cabin was better on the inside than it was on the outside, but the setting by no means would place a child at ease. The way the cabin groaned, as if it was in pain. How the hinges screamed and squealed as if in warning. Still, children will be children and they would come all the same. Curiosity, an attempt at bravery or simply a lack of sense -- a sheltered child knows no fear.
It was enviable.
The children would enter, the door would slam behind them. When the door did, the children might feel a dire sense that they had been sealed off. Through the window panes they could see the grounds, the occasional distant child, most stayed far from the space they would stay. That was good, Solomon did not want them to come near. They could get hurt if they wandered too close.
He could see the mounting agitation and trepidation in some. Others were cautious or indifferent. One was recklessly excited about the ordeal. Solomon took a breath and felt the pain in his breast. He had to do it, he had to try save at least some. They would take their toy, it was a gift. A creepy one at that, but a gift all the same.
"Welcome former first years," Solomon forced a smile. "For the next month we are going to be spending a lot of time together," he announced. Solomon would take a seat on his cot, the springs would squeak and strain as he lowered himself onto the thread bare sheets and thin mattress. "This is going to be an exciting month," be continued as he seemed to search for the right words. "You are going to learn that there is more to being a wizard than casting spells," Solomon warned. He took in a deep breath, he had to carefully chose his words from here on. He desperately wanted to warn them of the peril that they were actually in, but he would never get far before he was silenced and he would risk them all only to save a few.
"I am going to teach you how to avoid being spell fodder in the war against evil," Solomon proclaimed. The statement seemed mad, and he was not entirely sane. His grip on reality was steadily being lost, however he was formidable in his youth. Stress and fear does something to a man, being limited from intervening... Knowing that it will be inevitable that someone will get hurt, maybe even killed was tearing him apart.
Solomon wrote something in kanji on a bit of parchment and when he was done he stood up from his cot and approached the door. The sheet of paper would be pressed against the door, one edge touching the wall, covering the frame, the edge of the door and some of the door itself. The door would disappear as soon as he lifted his hand. "In Japan, wizards commonly had to deal with Yōkai. Like your toys, Yōkai range from malevolent to the mischievous and occasionally they even bring good fortune to those who encounter them." These students would not know much about magical creatures beyond what they had read or encountered as a child. "Sometimes Yōkai possess animal-like features and other times they appear mostly human, some look like inanimate objects and others have no discernible shape. Yōkai usually have some sort of spiritual or supernatural power."
He was not addressing the fact that he had locked them in, not yet.
"Your toys are what we know of as Tsukumogami, a type of Yōkai. After an object reaches one-hundred years of age, it develops a spirit according to folklore." He let out a laugh. "But we know that is not true, you see everything in this world is driven by a power that cannot be learned in a classroom. Passion, emotion, love, friendship, fear and anger all serve as fuel for our magic. When we cast, it is from this reservoir that we get most of our power." Perhaps the old man was a sentimental fool or perhaps he was talking about old magic, the first magic. Before we had words and magic cores, recipes and books we had intent.
"I am going to teach you have to survive an attack by a dark wizard," Solomon proclaimed. He was far from a Defense Against the Dark Arts Teacher, Yet the Magical Creature Professor seemed intent of teaching something far from his sanctioned station. He was just going to teach it his way. "As long as we are locked in here, they cannot get to us easily."
If asked what, he would simply say the name of the Cabin and assure them that it would not happen until nightfall which was an hour away. If he was not asked, he would not explain. Some things should be left a surprise he reasoned as he would sit back down on his cot.
While they unpacked, socialized and perhaps avoided their toy Solomon would start going around the room in no particular order and start to explain the toys. "The doll was my daughters, well-loved and by far less than one-hundred years of age. The doll loves back. She has no face because my daughter chose the face, when you learn how to transfigure learning how to make such minute changes in something will benefit you greatly." Toys were tools, a means of learning as well as comfort. The ragdoll was soft to the touch, smelled nice but had obvious signs of wear. The dress was simple, made of plain cloth but the frills and the pastel dress were quite lovely. The 'skin' made of unbleached and uncolored muslin cloth. The faced, a piece of oilcloth, smooth and clean.
"The spinning top, something I enjoyed as a boy. That toy is happy... free when it spins. It represents my wanderlust, and hopefully some of that will rub off on you." It was true, just as the heart of these previous owners changed these toys, perhaps in time these toys would effect them. The images carved into the sides still unsettling.
"The action hero -- a mimic. Looks like whoever holds it and it is full of fear. And because it is afraid, it is also very brave." He explained despite the fact that this toy was not his own. "Kopirati belonged to my apprentice when he was young," before he died. "He guarded the foot of Bucky's... I mean Bekir's bed when he was a child in Bosnia and when he explored with me as a young man." These misfit toys had lost their owners or their owners had outgrown them. The toy indeed looked just like Oliver, well if Oliver wore spandex and a cape.
"The music box -- envy," Solomon referenced the music box with the beautiful ballerina. "My ex-wife's as a girl. She outgrew it a long time ago. However, the sentiment made her strong and capable. It was the source of her young ambition, to have what others had. To have more." The longer she would hold the music box, the more that pretty dancing figure would look like her. Like Rosie in another decade, full grown and beautiful. Mesmerizing. The image reflected, still hideous and angry, but the ballerina would slowly twirl with the music as the tinkled a lovely yet sharp melody. "Envy only becomes destructive when your ambition comes at the expense of others or... you forget the needs of those that truly matter."
"The werewolf carousel -- the love of the hunt. Belonged to a young werewolf I once knew. Good kid, curses are not the fault of the afflicted," he shook his head. "Poor kid." He was very much dead. It was not uncommon for werewolves to be hunted, they were seen as dangerous. "Werewolves experience a duality of nature, where they exist as both man and beast. This celebrates, I know... in a way we may find grim or macabre... their love of the hunt. It is a thrill, a hunger and satisfaction for a beast is not the same as it is for a man." It was an experience that he hoped none would have due to the social implications of such a terrible curse.
"The bear," he was referencing the macabre Frankenstein-bear. "Is a yearning to maintain what was lost." He never said who it belonged to, he did not seem willing to share. "It is a mixture of love and fear in that toy, but he might not be able to save you but he will try to put you back together again." Solomon explained. The patchwork bear was made of many broken things, stitched with love and care to recreate something lost. Something loved.
Were the toys truly alive? No, it was more complicated than that. These toys had wants and fears but no souls. They were merely a shadow of their former owners and the strong emotions fed to them over the years.
"With the help of your friend, we will be starting your training in an hour."
If he was asked what they were about to learn, he would reply simply with one word. "Dodge."
[Link]
[Link]
It was enviable.
The children would enter, the door would slam behind them. When the door did, the children might feel a dire sense that they had been sealed off. Through the window panes they could see the grounds, the occasional distant child, most stayed far from the space they would stay. That was good, Solomon did not want them to come near. They could get hurt if they wandered too close.
He could see the mounting agitation and trepidation in some. Others were cautious or indifferent. One was recklessly excited about the ordeal. Solomon took a breath and felt the pain in his breast. He had to do it, he had to try save at least some. They would take their toy, it was a gift. A creepy one at that, but a gift all the same.
"Welcome former first years," Solomon forced a smile. "For the next month we are going to be spending a lot of time together," he announced. Solomon would take a seat on his cot, the springs would squeak and strain as he lowered himself onto the thread bare sheets and thin mattress. "This is going to be an exciting month," be continued as he seemed to search for the right words. "You are going to learn that there is more to being a wizard than casting spells," Solomon warned. He took in a deep breath, he had to carefully chose his words from here on. He desperately wanted to warn them of the peril that they were actually in, but he would never get far before he was silenced and he would risk them all only to save a few.
"I am going to teach you how to avoid being spell fodder in the war against evil," Solomon proclaimed. The statement seemed mad, and he was not entirely sane. His grip on reality was steadily being lost, however he was formidable in his youth. Stress and fear does something to a man, being limited from intervening... Knowing that it will be inevitable that someone will get hurt, maybe even killed was tearing him apart.
Solomon wrote something in kanji on a bit of parchment and when he was done he stood up from his cot and approached the door. The sheet of paper would be pressed against the door, one edge touching the wall, covering the frame, the edge of the door and some of the door itself. The door would disappear as soon as he lifted his hand. "In Japan, wizards commonly had to deal with Yōkai. Like your toys, Yōkai range from malevolent to the mischievous and occasionally they even bring good fortune to those who encounter them." These students would not know much about magical creatures beyond what they had read or encountered as a child. "Sometimes Yōkai possess animal-like features and other times they appear mostly human, some look like inanimate objects and others have no discernible shape. Yōkai usually have some sort of spiritual or supernatural power."
He was not addressing the fact that he had locked them in, not yet.
"Your toys are what we know of as Tsukumogami, a type of Yōkai. After an object reaches one-hundred years of age, it develops a spirit according to folklore." He let out a laugh. "But we know that is not true, you see everything in this world is driven by a power that cannot be learned in a classroom. Passion, emotion, love, friendship, fear and anger all serve as fuel for our magic. When we cast, it is from this reservoir that we get most of our power." Perhaps the old man was a sentimental fool or perhaps he was talking about old magic, the first magic. Before we had words and magic cores, recipes and books we had intent.
"I am going to teach you have to survive an attack by a dark wizard," Solomon proclaimed. He was far from a Defense Against the Dark Arts Teacher, Yet the Magical Creature Professor seemed intent of teaching something far from his sanctioned station. He was just going to teach it his way. "As long as we are locked in here, they cannot get to us easily."
If asked what, he would simply say the name of the Cabin and assure them that it would not happen until nightfall which was an hour away. If he was not asked, he would not explain. Some things should be left a surprise he reasoned as he would sit back down on his cot.
While they unpacked, socialized and perhaps avoided their toy Solomon would start going around the room in no particular order and start to explain the toys. "The doll was my daughters, well-loved and by far less than one-hundred years of age. The doll loves back. She has no face because my daughter chose the face, when you learn how to transfigure learning how to make such minute changes in something will benefit you greatly." Toys were tools, a means of learning as well as comfort. The ragdoll was soft to the touch, smelled nice but had obvious signs of wear. The dress was simple, made of plain cloth but the frills and the pastel dress were quite lovely. The 'skin' made of unbleached and uncolored muslin cloth. The faced, a piece of oilcloth, smooth and clean.
"The spinning top, something I enjoyed as a boy. That toy is happy... free when it spins. It represents my wanderlust, and hopefully some of that will rub off on you." It was true, just as the heart of these previous owners changed these toys, perhaps in time these toys would effect them. The images carved into the sides still unsettling.
"The action hero -- a mimic. Looks like whoever holds it and it is full of fear. And because it is afraid, it is also very brave." He explained despite the fact that this toy was not his own. "Kopirati belonged to my apprentice when he was young," before he died. "He guarded the foot of Bucky's... I mean Bekir's bed when he was a child in Bosnia and when he explored with me as a young man." These misfit toys had lost their owners or their owners had outgrown them. The toy indeed looked just like Oliver, well if Oliver wore spandex and a cape.
"The music box -- envy," Solomon referenced the music box with the beautiful ballerina. "My ex-wife's as a girl. She outgrew it a long time ago. However, the sentiment made her strong and capable. It was the source of her young ambition, to have what others had. To have more." The longer she would hold the music box, the more that pretty dancing figure would look like her. Like Rosie in another decade, full grown and beautiful. Mesmerizing. The image reflected, still hideous and angry, but the ballerina would slowly twirl with the music as the tinkled a lovely yet sharp melody. "Envy only becomes destructive when your ambition comes at the expense of others or... you forget the needs of those that truly matter."
"The werewolf carousel -- the love of the hunt. Belonged to a young werewolf I once knew. Good kid, curses are not the fault of the afflicted," he shook his head. "Poor kid." He was very much dead. It was not uncommon for werewolves to be hunted, they were seen as dangerous. "Werewolves experience a duality of nature, where they exist as both man and beast. This celebrates, I know... in a way we may find grim or macabre... their love of the hunt. It is a thrill, a hunger and satisfaction for a beast is not the same as it is for a man." It was an experience that he hoped none would have due to the social implications of such a terrible curse.
"The bear," he was referencing the macabre Frankenstein-bear. "Is a yearning to maintain what was lost." He never said who it belonged to, he did not seem willing to share. "It is a mixture of love and fear in that toy, but he might not be able to save you but he will try to put you back together again." Solomon explained. The patchwork bear was made of many broken things, stitched with love and care to recreate something lost. Something loved.
Were the toys truly alive? No, it was more complicated than that. These toys had wants and fears but no souls. They were merely a shadow of their former owners and the strong emotions fed to them over the years.
Solomon would grow silent, let the children fiddle with their toys. The toys played back. None of them dangerous. Those that had physical forms, such as the bear or the hero would be able to walk. The ballerina would be able to spin on her own, stop and look, perhaps even have a word. The top would spin without being spun and dart across the room, perhaps saying something as it did so. The wolves... the racing children... one or maybe even both would speak or race around on their own.Everyone has gained a toy NPC. Create your own personality for these toys based off of the little Solomon has shared. These are magical toys that will assist you on your adventure. Perhaps the top only talks when it spins but it is very hyperactive and speaks a mile a minute to you about the need to adventure, be a hero. Perhaps the bear asks you to be careful, is concerned that you will be hurt. Tries to hug you. Perhaps the super hero tries to fly (think Buzz Lightyear) and warns you of impending danger but to never fear because he is there. Name them, beyond the 'hero' I never gave any of them a name. YOU control this NPC in this adventure.
"With the help of your friend, we will be starting your training in an hour."
If he was asked what they were about to learn, he would reply simply with one word. "Dodge."
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There is something about ambition, how it not only propels you but also defines you.