12 Oct 2023, 03:14
Not a Party Person
October 6th, 2023 │Courtyard │Speaking
──────────────────────────────────────────────────────────
Rory Hara -- a mild young boy who sat, knees tucked into his chest, at the edge of the great fountain in the courtyard. By then, the evening air was slightly brisk, and he felt a bit of regret for not bringing an outer garment. He shook his head, as if forcing out the thought. Persuaded as Rory was to turn in for the night, this was a rare opportunity that he couldn't afford to ignore. The courtyard was truly empty; but more remarkably, there were only faint murmurs of the lively event occurring at the Great Lake. As he looked to the sky, his eyes reflected the yellow-orange of lanterns floating in the distance.
It would not be a surprise to anyone who knew Rory intimately that he was here, and not amidst the crowds at the Festival of Lights. His reluctance to mingle with strangers, much less from different schools was great indeed; too great for him to overcome at this moment in his youth. Still, the event was too full of interest for him to completely ignore. He leaned back, tracing the edge of the stone griffin statue to his left, as his mind was plagued with longing thoughts. What would it be like to reach out, to not hide in the shadows? To not care about the judgement of others?
He let out a breathy sigh. It was not often that the boy's mind strayed to such a grave place, and he suddenly felt grateful for such a trait. His head fell back slowly, gently thudding against the stony edge of the fountain. His furrowed brow raised, giving him a much more pleasant air. His eyes closed, as if shutting out any more somber thoughts.
Autumn was a time of change. Even the woodland creatures knew it, and prepared for the shift in their world. Rory felt it deeply within; rather, that his life was shifting in some unknown direction. It felt uncomfortable, like the itch of a scratchy sweater. He wished he could know his future -- what would come of this new school, these new people. But wishes like that were meaningless. Time would keep marching forward; and Rory would be reluctantly dragged along.
The eleven year-old snorted, almost humorously at the truth of the statement -- he had always been a bystander. Even now, he sat alone in the courtyard instead of braving his way to the party. It was tolerably unpleasant, as Rory was naturally introverted. Yet something in his chest was stirring, coaxing him to step out of his comfortably quiet existence. Yes, change.
──────────────────────────────────────────────────────────
Private to @Remedy Norden
Last edited by Rory Hara on 14 Oct 2023, 00:23, edited 1 time in total.
12 Oct 2023, 22:47
Not a Party Person
"... you could sooner divert a river from its course,"
──────────────────── ♔ ────────────────────
──────────────────── ♔ ────────────────────
------- Not a Party Person -------
------- ------- ------- -------
The Festival of Lights was truly a marvel to behold.
The Slytherin treaded a delicate line of punctuality and striking appearances by being fashionably late; a notable habit fostered by her mother who had a knack for making grand entrances. Whether it was her beauty, wit, charm, or reputation, everyone turned heads when her mother, Hyacinth, waltzed into a room of Pureblood busybodies and socialites.
Her mother had instilled Remedy with the same charm and poise at a tender age, nurturing the girl's wit over time to remember and recite the exact embellished scripts adults desired to hear. Over time, Remedy had realized the appreciation of predictability that followed when conversing with adults. In some light, they were all mostly the same; each one usually greeting and inquiring Remedy of one of three same redundant and boring questions, contributing to her natural charisma, cadence and poise.
This was far from her first party, and surely not the last Remedy would attend. And yet, these strange emotions conquered her once unyielding self assurance causing her to slither to the shadows and retreat from the festivities that awaited the students. Remedy was only met with the notions of loss and displacement, unsettling confusion; what had befallen the haughty, sharp-shooting pistol that was Remedy Norden?
She lifted her dress as she silently stalked the hills leading back to the looming towers of Hogwarts Castle, the lanterns hovering over the Great Lake in a brilliant display of the season's change and flame dancing against the twinkling sky. The sight left her awestruck, a sliver of glee despite her darkened demeanor. Despite the girl sauntering quietly through the shadows like a ghost in nightfall and deserting the path away from the lively gaggles of students that chirped ever so noisily below, Remedy wasn't ready to call it a night completely.
The sound of water met her ears, a telltale sign the courtyard was nearing. As she trekked up the hill, a silhouette caught her attention. A boy sitting knees to chest, someone like her, lurking in the dark. She didn't bother to greet or make her presence known; honestly, Remedy hadn't recognized the boy and didn't mind his presence despite the eerie quiet that befell them.
She assumed he was merely a student from one of the many visiting wizarding schools; nobody of importance or worth remembering after tonight. Yet, in a silent display of kindness, she'd smile politely and remain quiet as this boy may have retreated from the ball and into the courtyard for the same reasons as the Slytherin. To mull over this tidal wave that submerged her confidence, dragging the girl down a rabbit-hole of turmoil and drowning her in a sea of ambivalence.
She sauntered to the courtyard's edge and hugged one to the stone pillars that overlooked the dark pools of the Great Lake, leaning her wavy-haired head against the cool stone. Here, in the thickened silence, her thoughts could run rampant. Remedy succumb control and allow herself to submerge into the grievances of her shortcomings, her doubts, her pains and worries. Here, it was safe to be...Remedy.
Not Remedy Norden, the shrewd and venomous vipress, but the girl underneath the fangs, scales and blackened reputation.
"What's wrong with me?" she whispered to herself, her eyes welling with hot tears as she shot teary-eyed daggers at the jubilee of students below.
Tags: @Rory Hara. WC: 542
──────────────────────────────────────────
"... than deny me my triumphs."
"... than deny me my triumphs."
Last edited by Remedy Norden-Alptraum on 29 Oct 2023, 14:12, edited 1 time in total.
14 Oct 2023, 05:16
Not a Party Person
October 6th, 2023 │Courtyard │Speaking
──────────────────────────────────────────────────────────
He had several moments of respite, and had, in the course of the moments, reconsidered the matter at hand. Putting aside the peaceful ambience and seclusion of the location, he was tired. Slightly cold and tired. What purpose would staying outside have if not to bring pleasure? The boy reluctantly settled on making an early return to the comfort of his bedroom, reasoning that if he regretted the decision so, he could slip out of the school building another night. His thoughts were cut short by a slight rustling coming near the courtyard. Steps, growing in volume as the seconds inched by.
Rory pulled his head back up in time to make out the dark silhouette of another student, judging from both the height and lean build of the form. Finally, a girl took shape as she entered the courtyard. She had deep brown eyes and altogether a put-together appearance, hinting to the boy that she had come directly from the festival. Apparently the girl had noticed him, too, as she gave him an a polite but distant smile. He smiled back, like a deer in headlights. Rory hoped that he would outlive his habit of awkwardness, but it wasn't promising.
Only of somewhat importance was the fact that the Gryffindor failed to recognize the girl. She could've been from one of the many visiting schools, though it was just as likely she also went to Hogwarts. The boy was not well acquainted with the student population, and had made few attempts to remedy this.
It seemed the two had reached a agreement to not disturb the other, leaving a fragile quiet in the space. It wasn't the most comfortable of circumstances and Rory would have much preferred to leave; yet he worried about being perceived as rude. He didn't want the girl to believe that her presence had been the cause of his retreat. His fingers tapped repeatedly against the rim of the fountain, the corners of his mouth turned downwards.
Then, muffled sounds came from the edge of the courtyard in which the stranger had settled. She seemed to be in poor spirits, judging from the faint, trembly mutter in her voice. He couldn't quite make out what she said, but his heart clenched in pain. Was he imagining things, or was she crying? He stood up stiffly, looking between the exit to the building and the girl who was clearly occupied. The boy had this opportunity, now, to leave without causing a disturbance.
Rory exhaled, steeling himself for what would come next. He had not wanted to make conversation this night, though in consideration of the circumstances, felt a faint stirring of determination. As he marched closer to the girl, he hugged his arms together, and said what he believed to be considerate. "I'm sorry that we are meeting like this, but are you alright?"
He looked to the ground as if it was a subject of awe, playing with the hem of his sleeve. His voice was soft, yet pervading. "I don't want to be rude, but sometimes talking to others makes me feel better." There was a strange contrast between the soothing demeanor he wished to display and the evident apprehension he had to even remain in the courtyard.
──────────────────────────────────────────────────────────
Private to @Remedy Norden
14 Oct 2023, 07:09
Not a Party Person
"... you could sooner divert a river from its course,"
──────────────────── ♔ ────────────────────
──────────────────── ♔ ────────────────────
------- Not a Party Person -------
------- ------- ------- -------
Gods weren't famed for their pity or charity.
This adage uttered routinely by her grandma, Ordelia Norden; Remedy breathed this mantra daily, heeding the underlying caveat and basking in the supremacy of its message. And yet, the dark haired girl could feel herself going soft despite all her efforts to avoid such fate.
A ravenous Slytherin remained unfazed in the beginning when such an inkling concurred, chalking her shift in demeanor to be merely the consequences of Remedy's new reality. A balancing act the girl assumed she was prepared to handle; all O's, perfecting her craft beyond expectations of a first year, coexisting in a school of brutes and bottom-feeders that too frequently tainted her air, and the unknown repercussions that stemmed from a blackened reputation that wasn't necessarily hers.
Yet, Remedy couldn't have fathomed the harsh cruelty of wizards who knew they'd never amount to the superiority of a Norden. It was as though she was outnumbered 1 to many, crediting to the implication that the Slytherin had acquired more adversaries than alliances in just a month's time. Such worthy enemies that could have been great friends but couldn't be, simply owing to her loyalty to Remedy's prodigal cousin and the mediocrity of their blood. With this observation buried deep in her conscience, Remedy tolerated her few allies to be a bit, daresay, lax within her tight-knit social circles. Then, to her further bewilderment, a recent and harsh reality check pummeled the Slytherin’s core. Those very few allies that arrived to Hogwarts alongside Remedy would also turn their backs upon her, and commit the worst types of heinous betrayals. The girl remained on the high ground and attempted time and time again to reconcile the undoing of those partnerships; a passing of the olive branch, so to speak, and yet, here was Remedy with the short end of the stick.
To make such burdens even heavier, her cousin, Avery Leveret, was an enigma that boggled her mind. She gleaned with envy hearing his name, simmering with the wrath of a Hebridean Black when his very accomplishments were uttered by her family. Avery was the prodigal son her father would have wanted, despite the fact that it was quite clear from his assertions that he possessed no desire for children. Remedy was just Remedy; inadequate in all respects, and she could do nothing more than concede defeat in order prevent striking herself as an naive fool. She seethed inwardly for her cowardice of succumbing to mediocrity so easily, and yet Remedy so desperately desired Avery's approval and tutelage. It was a confession that Remedy dared not to ever say out loud, but at times like such, the ravenous girl could feel herself slowly becoming unhinged at the seams.
With a contemplative sigh, Remedy shut her eyes and attempted to shoo away her thoughts regarding her cousin. Regarding everyone actually. Such notions refused be sorted at the moment, and could sense herself beginning seethe with rage at the attempt. And more truthfully, the girl didn't have the fight to process any of the turmoil within.
Now Remedy couldn’t even survive a fun-filled night within their midst; how had it all come to this? Since when did Remedy become so weak?
'I'm sorry that we are meeting like this, but are you alright? I don't want to be rude, but sometimes talking to others makes me feel better.'
Dabbing her eyes with the boney knuckle of her thumb, Remedy debated the consequences of speaking out to her innermost confessions. Perhaps that was the repercussions of only ever rarely jotting her musings to the secrecy of her quill and parchment, but not even writing her thoughts could be safe; so, who could you trust to contain such confidences?
This boy approached Remedy with a kindness she hadn’t witnessed in weeks, but he wasn't going to exist in Remedy's world after tonight anyways. Surely there was no harm in speaking about her feelings as he was most likely another student from a different school. Perhaps he who would also forget about her after they parted ways. Maybe, just this once, she could divulge her deepest, darkest of secrets.
"I'm fine; its just a shame when you can't count on the people closest to you," Remedy replied sharply, shooting daggers to her biggest adversary below. The Hufflepuff donning an all-yellow dress, simply oblivious to her crimes committed against the Slytherin. And assuming Remedy's suspicions were true, Helena would also betray their kind which further boiled her blood.
"It is my own fault for allowing myself to care. A mistake I shouldn't have done, and now I'm paying the price for it." Remedy stated turning to face the boy with a feigned smile. "I appreciate the offer, but I wouldn't know where to begin, anyways."
Tags: @Rory Hara. WC: 772
──────────────────────────────────────────
"... than deny me my triumphs."
"... than deny me my triumphs."
Last edited by Remedy Norden-Alptraum on 29 Oct 2023, 14:12, edited 1 time in total.
17 Oct 2023, 02:46
Not a Party Person
October 6th, 2023 │Courtyard │Speaking
──────────────────────────────────────────────────────────
Strangers. The largest type of people in Rory's life due to his aversion to meeting people. What was it like before he was so reluctant of these unpredictable creatures? He couldn't remember, and it was likely that he was destined to be this way. As a baby, he cried whenever he was held, slept awfully. It was like the infant knew something -- someone -- was missing, even before he was able to fully comprehend the tragedy that had occurred. Perhaps, to this day, the child subconsciously carried the fear of meeting new people -- that they couldn't replace what was already lost.
It was a subject that he rarely, if ever, spoke of. Even with Lewis Hara, the biological uncle and adopted father of Rory, who shared the same loss. As open, as loving as the parent and child were to each-other, they carried this burden separately. He had discovered, thus far, that it was best to bury the grief that he couldn't grasp, couldn't resolve. So, he would bury it again.
The issue only heightened when Rory entered the age of schooling, and discovered the cruelty of his peers. Rationally speaking, the boy had yet to encounter anyone truly as awful as the children of primary school at Hogwarts. But it was not with his mind that he made decisions. Feelings, they governed him. And they were never small. These memories always lay in the back of his mind, constituting the real anxiety of seeking out others.
There were glimmers of light -- rare, sharp, precious, like a freshly cut and polished jewel. Rory craved the tenderness of human connection. Perhaps the reason he stayed to talk with the girl was to take a chance. To work to resolve the reluctance that gripped his being. Or, maybe, the result of a childhood full of lessons on moral values. To leave someone alone in these circumstances was almost unthinkable. Not, at least, before offering a tender word.
With a gentle, albeit flimsy, countenance, Rory watched the stranger, anticipating her response. As she wiped a tear, he ran a finger on the edge of his shirt sleeve. Up and down. The material was firm, though bended to the pressure. There was a silence, as neither made to reply. The surroundings, although not as quiet, were silenced under the boys racing thoughts.
Then, she broke the tension; rather, lessened it as the interactions was quite stiff. She gave a vague explanation for her woes, claiming that she couldn't count on someone, or some people, close to her. A small frown emerged on the blonde's face. The statement deeply saddened him, but heightened his level of empathy for the girl. She was rigid, beautiful in an almost tragic way. Even now, she seemed reluctant to open up at all, miserable but dedicated to concealment. They were strangers. Did that make it easier or harder to be vulnerable?
Rory couldn't quite relate to her perspective, as he had a deep, great level of trust for the few people close to him. But he understood the fear, nevertheless. "Well," the boy responded in a surprisingly even tone, "That sounds awful. I'm sorry that someone disappointed you like that." His intentions were good, at the least. He resolved to not ask for greater details than what were freely offered.
His courage, although fragile and brief, had surfaced. Perhaps, the need to comfort a person could do that.
A moment later, she went on to blame herself for the seeming betrayal. Allowing yourself... to care? His hands went still, finally looking up once again to examine the girl's face for signs of jest. There were none. She said the statement as it was an absolute truth. He couldn't imagine not caring. It was essential, like breathing. Care was as natural as a person's heart beating. He felt sorry, very sorry that someone could feel that way.
He practically squeaked out his next words, as if wishing to keep them in but failing. "Um. It's not my business, but... I don't think it's your fault for caring. Or, " he breathed, "- a mistake." He paused, eyebrows furrowing. "Sorry, it's not my choice." The boy lost the courage that he had mustered.
She had rejected his offer to listen. He endeavored not to fall back into silence, "Maybe you could just start with how you feel." It was like clockwork, repeating the words his fathers had given him so many times.
──────────────────────────────────────────────────────────
Private to @Remedy Norden
29 Oct 2023, 08:15
Not a Party Person
"... you could sooner divert a river from its course,"
──────────────────── ♔ ────────────────────
──────────────────── ♔ ────────────────────
------- Not a Party Person -------
------- ------- ------- -------
Did this boy's utterances contain verity, or was it delusion that the girl wasn't at fault for the unbalancing of the justice scales?
Pressing her red-coated lips into a slim line, her hand tenderly fiddled with the dainty string of pearls that hung loosely along her neck and gleamed in the ambient moonlight. Her other arm would hug across her body while remaining in silent contemplation, analyzing the implications of her next move. Remedy's own demise was brought upon by the weakening of her heart; the ravenous girl mulled over his words yet again, though her mind rattled with confusion. How could this undoing not be her fault?
Seconds felt like minutes, minutes into hours, as silence hung thick between students. The boy had staged a polite offer that appeared much easier beast to wrangle, though her countenance held apparent opposition to his proposal. Did not knowing the stranger before her enable vulnerability to become easier or harder as a result; this inner turmoil boggled the darked girl as she wore an unassertive smile. The lack of familiarity brought upon a strange solace, permitting the tightness in her hardened gaze to soften slightly. A heavy sigh heaved defeatedly from Remedy as she nodded her head slowly, submitting to the notion of starting with her feelings, as he had suggested.
"There is this girl; my frie-" Remedy cut herself off quickly, realizing mid-sentence that granting Ulysses such a title would now be a lie, "-housemate's relative. I don't speak much of bonds, but she's like a sister to me and has been for as long as I can remember."
Her dainty arms hugged her chest as a sudden tightness emerged in her chest.
"Her parents are hard on her, so I have taken her under my wing and attempted to carry us both," Remedy stated avoiding his gaze, her confidence dissipating with each utterance from her lips, "I guided her. Protected her. Yet, it feels like my attempts to show my regards go unnoticed; unappreciated."
Though the specific details of such superstitions remained lost in a shroud; on Remedy's birthday, Helena would tread carefully yet ever so blatantly over her riddles to inspire truth, yet sparked suspicion when honesty wasn't delivered. It wasn't until earlier on this day that such speculations would come to light: one such Rebecca Lark could be at the forefront of Helena's tangled web of lies. While Remedy would often stalk the calculated path to further her investigation, the girl cared little for answers now. Regardless if Rebecca was a muggleborn or halfblood; it was the lack of purity that Remedy had despised, strains only furthering after meeting Finnegan and Clark. As a result of these deep-seeded tensions, a hunger for vengeance against the blood traitor overrides her once insatiable curiosity; Helena would not be permitted to continue to make a mockery of the Slytherin. Of Remedy Norden. No more.
"I allowed myself to care too much for this...girl. She treats me as though I am invisible, and I've caught her in lies on multiple occasions."
There was a distinct pause as Remedy contemplated her feelings; identifying that caring enabled her to become weak; there was additional incentive to not care than to allow the girl to feel the gravity of her emotions. This is what separated Remedy from her adversaries — they ruled with their hearts; Remedy: logic. Yet Helena posed an interesting case; truthfully, one could say Remedy felt invisible in the Hufflepuff’s company. And yet, the Slytherin girl allowed such instances go unpunished because her feelings. Because she cared.
A mistake it was, indeed; if Helena were anyone else, the consequences would be delivered and tiff rectified. There was a power dynamic between her mind and heart; which to choose between delivering retribution for the wrongs Helena had committed against Remedy, or to let the girl drown in her own miserable failures.
“I feel invisible around her; worthless.”
Tags: @Rory Hara. WC:
──────────────────────────────────────────
"... than deny me my triumphs."
"... than deny me my triumphs."