5 Dec 2022, 19:17
Lost Your Appetite?
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SUNLIGHT seemed to have a way of sauntering into the Great Hall, igniting the shadows to vivid oranges and reds, its honeyed rays bouncing off of the polished tables where students of all years enjoyed their first meal of the day, the atmosphere pleasant and inviting. A spark of excitement danced through the air as well, along with a hint of nervousness. The first day of classes had begun.
Irene was petrified.
The night of the Sorting Ceremony, her mind had been more focused on the Ceremony itself than the strangers surrounding her. She hadn't felt like they noticed or even cared about her presence, which Irene hadn't minded. But now, it felt as if the Hall of students was doing the opposite of just that, watching her every move.
And Irene could do nothing about it.
Of course, she knew no one was actually watching her as she sat down at the far end of the Ravenclaw table, but a small feeling of dread still crept up her spine, sending goosebumps all over her body. To fellow Ravenclaws, it would seem like she was shivering as she drew her knees closer to herself, holding her arms tightly.
Irene knew breakfast was the most important meal of the day, but even looking in the direction of the many dishes laid out in front of her made her sick to her stomach. Eating right now would be impossible for her. Instead, she pulled out her journal from her worn satchel, pushing the plate in front of her away as she set it down, grabbing her fountain pen as well. She thumbed through the yellowed pages, flipping past illustrations of moon phases and sketches of flowers. Tugging at the uncomfortable neckline of her sweater, she finally reached a mostly empty page and pressed the tip of her pen against the page, thinking about what she should write. Poetry, perhaps? What should she write about? She thought it over in her head for a few minutes before a short idea formulated in her head.
Slowly, she inked in the following poem into the page, her handwriting as neat as possible:
𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚕𝚘𝚞𝚍;
𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚢 𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚌𝚔;
𝚒 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚒'𝚖 𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐.
𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚘𝚕 𝚠𝚛𝚊𝚙𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚊 𝚗𝚘𝚘𝚜𝚎;
𝚖𝚢 𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑 𝚒𝚜 𝚕𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚛𝚎𝚍,
𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚒𝚛 𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚏𝚏𝚢, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚋𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚞𝚏𝚏𝚘𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐,
𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒 𝚊𝚖 𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚐𝚞𝚒𝚍𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎.
Irene sighed, setting down the pen, looking longingly towards the food in front of her. Her nimble fingers grabbed the edge of her plate, pulling it closer. She eyed the plate of toast in front of her, her fingers itching to reach out and snatch a piece. She sighed, pushing the plate away, her stomach growling in protest. She rested her chin on her folded arms, closing her eyes as she waited for breakfast to be over.
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𝙰 𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚛, 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜.
Last edited by Irene Hatchet on 6 Dec 2022, 00:26, edited 1 time in total.
𝐓𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞, 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧.
6 Dec 2022, 00:25
Lost Your Appetite?
Clair entered the great hall with a air of fresh happiness. This was a new year, a new Clair. This was no longer the carefree little First year who raced from class to class, this year she was going to value her time, she was going to balance herself between classes, friends, and time for herself.
Sure that was her goal, but she had no idea what would happen, so Clair was not sure she would stick to that goal too closely. The Ravenclaw was wearing her robes with her house's crest proudly, last year at this time she had been new to it all. She had wandered the halls like a newborn puppy. But after a year of living here this was her home.
As she stood near the end of the table Clair looked around for anyone she knew at the table. There was a mixed feeling in the room. Some seemed excited to be at Hogwarts and starting classes, while others seemed bored or nervous of it. The air hummed with voices chatting. Some were louder than others.
As Clair's eyes skimmed over the crowd of Claws she noticed a girl who looked nervous or upset. Feeling bad for the poor girl Clair walked up to her and smiled, "May I sit here?" She asked pointing at the seat near the other girl. "I'm Clair. Second year" She offered.
(wc 234)
@Irene Hatchet
WHAT IF I FALL? OH, MY DARLING
WHAT IF YOU FLY?
WHAT IF YOU FLY?
6 Dec 2022, 00:56
Lost Your Appetite?
Great Hall
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SLAMMING her journal shut upon hearing someone approaching quickly, Irene fumbled for her fountain pen, grabbing it just before it rolled off the table. She sighed in relief, glad to have not dropped the expensive pen, but the small moment of calmness vanished the instant the stranger had walked up to her, all smiles.
Don't panic! the voice in her head screamed, but it was too late. Irene's eyes widened in alarm, her pupils dilating, her flight or fight response on high gear. Her hair had fallen in front of her face, giving her a disheveled look. She quickly brushed her hair out of the way, fixing her appearance when the girl began speaking.
"May I sit here?" the girl asked politely. Dumfounded, Irene opened her mouth, but her voice failed her. She closed it as she frantically came up with a proper response when the girl added, "I'm Clair. Second-Year."
A Second-Year? Irene glanced at the small pin on her cloak. The blue - black design of the Eagle stared back at her. Another Ravenclaw! Irene cleared her throat and tried her best to give an inviting smile, gesturing to the seat next to her. "Of course, please, sit."
As the girl sat down, the gears in Irene's brain spun wildly as she thought of some sort of conversation starter. Such a sudden conversation needed a proper response. Irene cleared her throat quietly, wringing her hands. "I'm Irene. Irene Hatchet. I'm pleased to make your acquaintance, Clair," she replied in a soft tone, extending her hand for a handshake. It was common courtesy for Irene to shake everyone's hand upon meeting them, and it showed proper manners.
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𝙰 𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚛, 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜.
𝐓𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞, 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧.
21 Dec 2022, 02:29
Lost Your Appetite?
⠀ [ september 2, 2022 ] ✦ @Irene Hatchet @Clair Fernandez THE YEAR WAS off to quite a start. After the whole train incident yesterday, Esme wasn't entirely sure if she was ready for what the rest of the year had to offer. Because surely, there was so much more in store. How could there not be? It was Hogwarts, after all. Yet even with all her wonderings and worries, Esme found herself outside her dorm heading towards the Great Hall much too early. It was only five thirty, breakfast didn't even start for some time. But she couldn't sleep. She'd tried all night, to no avail... so she was here.
Sketchbook in her hand—no, she was not going to her spot, she was just going to sit in the Great Hall and draw a little, it wasn't breaking her promise—the girl slipped inside the room and sat down. Slowly, minute by minute ticked by, aided by the pencil in her hand and the paper in front of her. People began trickling in, one by one, two by two, and then...
The Great Hall was bursting with people. Bubbly students, nervous first years, each face was a new emotion. Eyes wandering, sketchbook now closed and away, Esmeray's gaze stuck to one person. Something about them was familiar. Very familiar. And yet Esme knew she hadn't seen the girl before... so what was it?
After a couple minutes of contemplation, she figured it out. It was the way she was sitting. It was the look in her eyes, and the notebook in her lap. Whoever this student was, she felt strangely similar to first year Esme. Biting her lip, the gryffindor sighed. She would have been so happy if on her first day someone had sat with and welcomed her, and clearly this first year was feeling rather lonely. And overwhelmed. And a lot of different emotions, like everyone else. Plus, it might help Esme herself to start out right away with introducing herself to others, instead of waiting for them to introduce themselves to her... Making up her mind, she stood up, brushed off her clothes, and walked over.
By the time she got there, another student was already there. Debating whether or not to turn around, Esme stood there awkwardly for a few seconds, then composed herself and cleared her throat gently. "Hey," she said, feigning a whole lot more confidence than she really felt, "I'm Esme." Glancing at the other girl—a second year as well, someone she'd seen in the halls before but never talked to—the gryffindor's lips tilted up in a slight smile. "You're Clair, right?" And then with a last look at her old spot back at the other table, she asked, "Is it alright if I sit here with you?"lost your appetite? ✦ [ thread ]⠀
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