1 May 2019, 00:14
The Sorting ceremony 2018-2019
"Brilliant buggers, aren't they," whispered a soft voice amidst a gaggle of excited boys and girls as equality amazed if not more than the source of the small quip. No amount of story telling from Kenneth or William could have prepared the young boy for the oddities that decorated the ceilings, the walls, the floors. Every nook and cranny he spotted behind a large pair of lens had an incredible aura of mystifying curiousness. Moreover, there was a bit of magic in the speech given by the Professor that lead every fresh student including himself toward the one place he'd heard marvelous stories of.
The Great Hall.
Being pushed by bigger boys and girls, Warren found himself further and further behind a wall of brunettes and blondes. Shoes squeaked and his robe rustled as he waved his arms and stood on the tips of his toes to see over the shoulders of those in front of him, but twas not necessary. As soon as the double doors had swung open as if the let the floodgates free, Warren was greeted with hundreds of unfamiliar faces. Small fingers pushed on the center of his glasses to raise them upward on the top of his nose.
It was all so... so...
"Magnificent," he gasped, his voice as light as a quills feather. Breathless by the display of magical illusion high above their heads, Warren lagged behind the line, his small frame pushed to the side as if to act as a bystander to his own welcoming ceremony. Amidst the chaos of jumbling first years, himself included, Warren spotted a duo of familiar heads wearing matching blue ties and sporting the same stylized blonde bangs. He tossed a hand in the air, his arm swinging side to side in a wide wave that spurred a series of vibrant thumbs up and 'go get 'em's.
Lowering his hand to his chest, Warren rubbed his palm to ease the nervous that tickled at his spirit. This was all so much more than I'd ever had imagined, he thought to himself wistfully. The bright smile that donned his lips stretched ear to ear, and his messy bangs pushed upward as he shifted his much too large glasses once more. Soon, he'd find himself in a line; the beginning of his own journey.
Names were called one after the other. Some famous for their family titles, some completely new, and others from the world that never sees the wonder of magic. As he awaited his turn, Warren stood between two bigger boys. Though the same age as himself albeit a few months ahead more than likely, the tiny Kirkland was an oddity amidst his age group. Small hands rubbed at their palms as he took small breaths each time a new name was called. Time's ticking, he thought nervously.
A small tap to his shoulder nearly pulled his ghost right out of his body. Jumping nearly a foot in the air, the young wizard swirled his head toward the right; a table seating those of red and orange stripped ties. Both eyes blew wide allowing the orange glow of the Great Hall to capture the bold greens that light up with joy. Overjoyed, Warren reached out and practically covered the lithe frame of his older brother, Edward. Letting out a slow breath, he pulled away quickly and snorted as a hand shoved at his face. Glasses skewed, Warren smiled and stood upright.
"Piss off, Warrior. You've got places to be, don't ya'? Hell're you doin' roughin' me up, you loser," laughed the proud voice of Edward Kirkland. Unable to contain himself, Warren shook his head violently from side to side, his glasses nearly falling right off the bridge of his nose in the process. Waving his hands, he opened his mouth several times but only small squeaks and nervous giggles erupted forth. Edward rolled his eyes, his pals seated at his side giving Warren a welcoming smile.
"Well," he said quietly, "Go on, lad. You're so busy frettin' you didn't even hear your own name, did you?"
Blinking at this, Warren twirled on his feet and looked toward the stool that beckoned his name. He'd missed his own name being called?! How lame was that! Frantic, he pointed sternly at Edward earning him a barking laughter of mockery. With one last push of his glasses to set them right, Warren marched himself forward with his arms at his sides and his smile a touch on the wobbly side.
Stepping up onto the stand had his heart racing. How he has managed to not pass out, run away, cry, or an conglomerate of all three was beyond him. Although, once he had been greeted and give the had to wear, Warren felt simply right. He felt at home as he placed the hat gingerly atop his head.
... and it swallowed his head whole!
Like a magic trick, Warren's entire head vanished beneath the small opening of the hat. The Sorting Hat merely chuckled at the boy as he sat with his back straight, his feet dangling, and his hands gripping at either side of the worn material that lined the rim.
"A right mess, aren't you," the hat inquired low and mysterious. Warren swallowed a lump of coal at those words, but shook his head wordlessly in disagreement. He wasn't a mess, he was a proper lad.
"Oh, you say that. You think that. Are you, though, Warren Kirkland? Kirkland... My, my, my. How many of you will I be seeing so soon? Have any other brothers I'm unaware of, boy," the Sorting Hat jeered, but Warren merely chuckled at this notion. Smiling softly, the boy adjusted his glasses and glazed over the sea of students that watched them both.
Quietly, he mused, "As surprising as it may seem, Sir, I'm all that's left. Not a ninny or hair of any other siblings. That'd be a bit much wouldn't you agree?"
The hat let out a scoff as it began to mutter. The words were low and calculating, ones that intrigued Warren so much so that he tuned out the whispers that called out from the seated students.
"Kirkland, Kirkland, Kirkland... So many has this name been passed down. Quite the history you've got, boy. So many names, so many trying times... A name engraved with the print of Ravenclaw, is it? A history not easily unforgotten," it began, it's voice turning lower before it offered a peculiar question, "Tell me, are you brave?"
"Not particularly, lest the situation calls," Warren replied with a questioning lit to his words. What a peculiar question, he wondered.
"But of course you wouldn't. Considering that you are," the voice died before suddenly, like a wave of water, the hat called out teeming with pride, "SLYTHERIN!"
Gasping, Warren found himself taking the hat off and giving it a strange look. The hat seemed to eye the boy with a hint of curiosity; what strangeness indeed. Smiling, Warren placed the hat atop the stool and bowed respectfully toward it, his hand stretching outward as he looked up and smiled. "Thank you, Sir."
Odd... Who in their right mind would thank a hat?
The tiny boy found his way toward his newfound home; Slytherin. With opened arms and slight weary eyes, the green tied boys and girls nodded their heads in welcoming. A quiet bunch, these ones, but Warren was pleased. He could hear the shouts of his brothers from afar wondering what on earth that sorting moment was, but the boy didn't listen. Quickly, Warren found an empty seat between two larger and older students. They quickly welcomed him, sat him, and began to chatter amidst themselves as they asked the young boy questions about the previous Kirkland who'd run his course through Slytherin. The Kirkland who mastered the arts of magical creature care and the studies of those far beyond human knowledge.
Smiling to himself, Warren took one last glance upward toward the Sorting Hat, the voices around him carrying out like a white noise.
"Brillaint," he mused quietly to himself for the second time that evening.
The Great Hall.
Being pushed by bigger boys and girls, Warren found himself further and further behind a wall of brunettes and blondes. Shoes squeaked and his robe rustled as he waved his arms and stood on the tips of his toes to see over the shoulders of those in front of him, but twas not necessary. As soon as the double doors had swung open as if the let the floodgates free, Warren was greeted with hundreds of unfamiliar faces. Small fingers pushed on the center of his glasses to raise them upward on the top of his nose.
It was all so... so...
"Magnificent," he gasped, his voice as light as a quills feather. Breathless by the display of magical illusion high above their heads, Warren lagged behind the line, his small frame pushed to the side as if to act as a bystander to his own welcoming ceremony. Amidst the chaos of jumbling first years, himself included, Warren spotted a duo of familiar heads wearing matching blue ties and sporting the same stylized blonde bangs. He tossed a hand in the air, his arm swinging side to side in a wide wave that spurred a series of vibrant thumbs up and 'go get 'em's.
Lowering his hand to his chest, Warren rubbed his palm to ease the nervous that tickled at his spirit. This was all so much more than I'd ever had imagined, he thought to himself wistfully. The bright smile that donned his lips stretched ear to ear, and his messy bangs pushed upward as he shifted his much too large glasses once more. Soon, he'd find himself in a line; the beginning of his own journey.
Names were called one after the other. Some famous for their family titles, some completely new, and others from the world that never sees the wonder of magic. As he awaited his turn, Warren stood between two bigger boys. Though the same age as himself albeit a few months ahead more than likely, the tiny Kirkland was an oddity amidst his age group. Small hands rubbed at their palms as he took small breaths each time a new name was called. Time's ticking, he thought nervously.
A small tap to his shoulder nearly pulled his ghost right out of his body. Jumping nearly a foot in the air, the young wizard swirled his head toward the right; a table seating those of red and orange stripped ties. Both eyes blew wide allowing the orange glow of the Great Hall to capture the bold greens that light up with joy. Overjoyed, Warren reached out and practically covered the lithe frame of his older brother, Edward. Letting out a slow breath, he pulled away quickly and snorted as a hand shoved at his face. Glasses skewed, Warren smiled and stood upright.
"Piss off, Warrior. You've got places to be, don't ya'? Hell're you doin' roughin' me up, you loser," laughed the proud voice of Edward Kirkland. Unable to contain himself, Warren shook his head violently from side to side, his glasses nearly falling right off the bridge of his nose in the process. Waving his hands, he opened his mouth several times but only small squeaks and nervous giggles erupted forth. Edward rolled his eyes, his pals seated at his side giving Warren a welcoming smile.
"Well," he said quietly, "Go on, lad. You're so busy frettin' you didn't even hear your own name, did you?"
Blinking at this, Warren twirled on his feet and looked toward the stool that beckoned his name. He'd missed his own name being called?! How lame was that! Frantic, he pointed sternly at Edward earning him a barking laughter of mockery. With one last push of his glasses to set them right, Warren marched himself forward with his arms at his sides and his smile a touch on the wobbly side.
Stepping up onto the stand had his heart racing. How he has managed to not pass out, run away, cry, or an conglomerate of all three was beyond him. Although, once he had been greeted and give the had to wear, Warren felt simply right. He felt at home as he placed the hat gingerly atop his head.
... and it swallowed his head whole!
Like a magic trick, Warren's entire head vanished beneath the small opening of the hat. The Sorting Hat merely chuckled at the boy as he sat with his back straight, his feet dangling, and his hands gripping at either side of the worn material that lined the rim.
"A right mess, aren't you," the hat inquired low and mysterious. Warren swallowed a lump of coal at those words, but shook his head wordlessly in disagreement. He wasn't a mess, he was a proper lad.
"Oh, you say that. You think that. Are you, though, Warren Kirkland? Kirkland... My, my, my. How many of you will I be seeing so soon? Have any other brothers I'm unaware of, boy," the Sorting Hat jeered, but Warren merely chuckled at this notion. Smiling softly, the boy adjusted his glasses and glazed over the sea of students that watched them both.
Quietly, he mused, "As surprising as it may seem, Sir, I'm all that's left. Not a ninny or hair of any other siblings. That'd be a bit much wouldn't you agree?"
The hat let out a scoff as it began to mutter. The words were low and calculating, ones that intrigued Warren so much so that he tuned out the whispers that called out from the seated students.
"Kirkland, Kirkland, Kirkland... So many has this name been passed down. Quite the history you've got, boy. So many names, so many trying times... A name engraved with the print of Ravenclaw, is it? A history not easily unforgotten," it began, it's voice turning lower before it offered a peculiar question, "Tell me, are you brave?"
"Not particularly, lest the situation calls," Warren replied with a questioning lit to his words. What a peculiar question, he wondered.
"But of course you wouldn't. Considering that you are," the voice died before suddenly, like a wave of water, the hat called out teeming with pride, "SLYTHERIN!"
Gasping, Warren found himself taking the hat off and giving it a strange look. The hat seemed to eye the boy with a hint of curiosity; what strangeness indeed. Smiling, Warren placed the hat atop the stool and bowed respectfully toward it, his hand stretching outward as he looked up and smiled. "Thank you, Sir."
Odd... Who in their right mind would thank a hat?
The tiny boy found his way toward his newfound home; Slytherin. With opened arms and slight weary eyes, the green tied boys and girls nodded their heads in welcoming. A quiet bunch, these ones, but Warren was pleased. He could hear the shouts of his brothers from afar wondering what on earth that sorting moment was, but the boy didn't listen. Quickly, Warren found an empty seat between two larger and older students. They quickly welcomed him, sat him, and began to chatter amidst themselves as they asked the young boy questions about the previous Kirkland who'd run his course through Slytherin. The Kirkland who mastered the arts of magical creature care and the studies of those far beyond human knowledge.
Smiling to himself, Warren took one last glance upward toward the Sorting Hat, the voices around him carrying out like a white noise.
"Brillaint," he mused quietly to himself for the second time that evening.
"And so he was reading the story as if it were a spell and the words of it, spoken aloud, could make magic happen.”
« Stamina: 4 | Evasion: 5 | Strength: 4 | Wisdom: 9 | Arcane Power: 6 | Accuracy: 7 »
« Stamina: 4 | Evasion: 5 | Strength: 4 | Wisdom: 9 | Arcane Power: 6 | Accuracy: 7 »
3 May 2019, 15:18
The Sorting ceremony 2018-2019
Lucian heard the fateful words and immediately her heart skipped a beat. This couldn't be happening. She couldn't possibly be a Gryffindor. For centuries her lineage had been devote Slytherins. Her home had a framed painting of Salazar Slytherin in its entry hall for Merlin's sake. She continued to picture the disappointed faces of her family, her father shutting her out of his life for good, her mother breaking down again, her siblings feeling as thought they can't trust her.
She walked down from the platform in a trance, her stormy eyes fogged over by fear of the future. She knew that once her family got word of her sorting, she wouldn't be allowed back in the Manor. It was a Slytherin Manor after all.
She found a place at the table where she could sit and sulk by herself. Seven years of this would be unbearable; all she could hope to do was make Slytherin friends and receive an in to their house, as well as focus on her studies and get out of this as soon as she could. She was here to learn and increase her power, not make friends.
Brushing her black hair out of her eyes, she watched as first-year by first-year was sorted, all with beaming faces and gleaming eyes. Glancing longingly at the Slytherin table, she watched those who should be her new family speaking in hushed tones. She felt chills run down her spine, and her scars began to burn and itch.
She walked down from the platform in a trance, her stormy eyes fogged over by fear of the future. She knew that once her family got word of her sorting, she wouldn't be allowed back in the Manor. It was a Slytherin Manor after all.
She found a place at the table where she could sit and sulk by herself. Seven years of this would be unbearable; all she could hope to do was make Slytherin friends and receive an in to their house, as well as focus on her studies and get out of this as soon as she could. She was here to learn and increase her power, not make friends.
Brushing her black hair out of her eyes, she watched as first-year by first-year was sorted, all with beaming faces and gleaming eyes. Glancing longingly at the Slytherin table, she watched those who should be her new family speaking in hushed tones. She felt chills run down her spine, and her scars began to burn and itch.
3 May 2019, 16:26
The Sorting ceremony 2018-2019
To be honest, I was scared. I come from a so-called "muggle" family and the whole idea of a talking hat was terrifying. Then it sang. Now i amused more then anything. I guess magic isn't always evil, just weird. It (he, she?) called the first name and the person walked up. The hat was placed on their head and all of a sudden it started talking about their personality and past? How? some sort of mind magic? I instantly began to worry if it mentioned my past in america or German lessons. Anyways, people were quickly sorted, and then it was my turn. "Eldridge Cunningham." "Scheisse" I mumbled, but still walked up. As soon as the hat was on my head something felt off, like another presence inside of me. After a bit of teasing about how shy and awkward I was, then complimenting my smarts, I had no idea where I would be placed.
Out of nowhere, the hat boomed across the entirety of the great hall:
The blue table (coincidentally, my favorite color) began to shout happily. I sat down in a chair they pointed at, and the boy next to me said ""Welcome to Ravenclaw!" I felt awkward, yet at home among these people. Before I knew it I was actually having a conversation and watching to see who else got placed in this house of smarts.
Out of nowhere, the hat boomed across the entirety of the great hall:
"Ravenclaw!"
The blue table (coincidentally, my favorite color) began to shout happily. I sat down in a chair they pointed at, and the boy next to me said ""Welcome to Ravenclaw!" I felt awkward, yet at home among these people. Before I knew it I was actually having a conversation and watching to see who else got placed in this house of smarts.
I don't know what else to write, so...
Eldridge Cunningham
4 May 2019, 04:30
The Sorting ceremony 2018-2019
Brielle stood confidently as she watched the others being sorted, patiently waiting for her turn. Although she came from a long line of Gryffindors, Brielle believed she wasn't the 'heroine' type. As she watched another one of her peers step down from the sorting hat, the professor called out another name.
"Brielle Gray."
Without regret, she approached the stool and took a seat. Almost immediately after the professor had lowered the hat, it snapped to life.
"Another Gray, is it? Hm.. A long history of powerful wizards..." The voice spoke to her. She knew it was trying to get to her head, but she sat contently with a smile.
"Ah, all Gryffindors too." Brielle shook her head. He was trying to break her.
"Im not like them." Brielle replied. She wasn't intimidated by the hat, she knew where she belonged and it was fate.
"Not different, eh? I see, I see. You have a very bitter soul. Reminds me of someone I sorted many years ago. Who was it?" The hat took a minute to think, but Brielle knew it was sarcastic.
"Ah, yes. Malfoy.." The name echoed in her head. Everyone in the room gasped, and had their eyes on me.
I could hear people talking, some voices scared, some making a joke of it. "Another Draco? ---"Now all we need is another Potter!"
The hat started up again-
"If you are so different, I know the perfect house...
"SLYTHERIN!"
"Brielle Gray."
Without regret, she approached the stool and took a seat. Almost immediately after the professor had lowered the hat, it snapped to life.
"Another Gray, is it? Hm.. A long history of powerful wizards..." The voice spoke to her. She knew it was trying to get to her head, but she sat contently with a smile.
"Ah, all Gryffindors too." Brielle shook her head. He was trying to break her.
"Im not like them." Brielle replied. She wasn't intimidated by the hat, she knew where she belonged and it was fate.
"Not different, eh? I see, I see. You have a very bitter soul. Reminds me of someone I sorted many years ago. Who was it?" The hat took a minute to think, but Brielle knew it was sarcastic.
"Ah, yes. Malfoy.." The name echoed in her head. Everyone in the room gasped, and had their eyes on me.
I could hear people talking, some voices scared, some making a joke of it. "Another Draco? ---"Now all we need is another Potter!"
The hat started up again-
"If you are so different, I know the perfect house...
"SLYTHERIN!"
Brielle Gray ﾟ･:*｡(ꈍᴗꈍ)ε｀*)~｡*:･ﾟ
Proudly Veela
Strength: 5 Evasion: 5 Stamina: 4 Wisdom: 5 Arcane Power: 5 Accuracy: 6
5 May 2019, 19:39
The Sorting ceremony 2018-2019
Lucian watched as the girl with the other last name "Gray" was called up to the stand, a different spelling but a Gray nonetheless. As the hat spoke of "a long line of powerful wizards", Lucian wondered if somehow they could be connected. After all, her lineage was extremely powerful as well, and despite the fact that she had come from a long line of Slytherins rather than Gryffindors, this new first year intrigued her, if not for the girl herself, but her past.
Lucian had always believed that the past made each and every wizard who they are, a mindset that had been passed down through her family for as long as she could remember. It had always been of upmost importance to respect her elder wizards, to learn from them, to hear their stories, especially of the years when You Know Who had lived and thrived. Her sister Ellowyn had always been especially interested in this time period, and would often discuss it with Lucian, wanting to know her opinions.
She watched as the hat was placed softly on the girl's head, before calling pout the words she had hoped to hear. A bright, clear, "Slytherin!" ringing throughout the Great Hall.
Lucian had always believed that the past made each and every wizard who they are, a mindset that had been passed down through her family for as long as she could remember. It had always been of upmost importance to respect her elder wizards, to learn from them, to hear their stories, especially of the years when You Know Who had lived and thrived. Her sister Ellowyn had always been especially interested in this time period, and would often discuss it with Lucian, wanting to know her opinions.
She watched as the hat was placed softly on the girl's head, before calling pout the words she had hoped to hear. A bright, clear, "Slytherin!" ringing throughout the Great Hall.
5 May 2019, 22:29
The Sorting ceremony 2018-2019
As Aubrey got off the Hogwarts Express she was greeted by carriages that were drawn by a creature that looked as if it was a corpse of a horse that had come back to life. At first Aubrey was hesitant around the creature, a hufflepuff boy informed her and other students that were near by that the creatures were called Thestrals, and only people who knew death could see them- however Aubrey was confused, she didn't' know anyone who had died yet, but yet she saw the deathly looking creatures pulling the carriage. Brushing the boys information aside, Aubrey climbed into the carriage and glanced anywhere but towards the creatures that were pulling the carriage. When they finally arrived to Hogwarts Aubrey couldn't believe how big the castle looked. She head read, A History of Hogwarts prior to arriving, but seeing the place in person was very different. She could feel butterflies along with a sense of adrenaline start to rise in her as she got closer and closer to the giant doors that belonged to the Great Hall. As the First years all started to walk down the middle aisle between the four very long tables the other students cheered and clapped as they made their way towards the front. There on a stool, was a old looking patched hat. As Aubrey got closer she noticed that it was no ordinary hat, it was living and talking. As a quietness dispersed throughout the Great Hall, Aubrey glanced up and saw the Head master stand, and begin to do the wecloming speech and begin the Sorting Ceremony. One after one the first years were called. "Slytherin!" "Gryffindor!" "Hufflepuff!" "Ravenclaw!" One after One the Hat called out the house the first year student belonged to.
Then it was Aubreys turn.
"Aubrey Jayne Lovecharm" the Headmaster called out as he read from the parchment. Aubrey looked around before she quickly made her way to the stool. The hat pondered back and forth, for a moment it thought about Gryffindor; for her sense of adventure, curiosity and bravery.
"Ah, I know exactly where you belong- yes, it is clear to me. Ambitious one you are. The Knowledge you have- you have great potential--i see. You most definitely belong in- RAVENCLAW!" the hat seemed to go on for more than ten minutes before it finally came to a decision, or atleast to Aubrey it seemed that long. However as she made her way towards the long Ravenclaw table, she could feel a sense of belonging. She gently touched her wand which was attached to her side, smiling she sat down and flashed her fellow house mates a smile. Everyone greeted her and she began to meet people.
Then it was Aubreys turn.
"Aubrey Jayne Lovecharm" the Headmaster called out as he read from the parchment. Aubrey looked around before she quickly made her way to the stool. The hat pondered back and forth, for a moment it thought about Gryffindor; for her sense of adventure, curiosity and bravery.
"Ah, I know exactly where you belong- yes, it is clear to me. Ambitious one you are. The Knowledge you have- you have great potential--i see. You most definitely belong in- RAVENCLAW!" the hat seemed to go on for more than ten minutes before it finally came to a decision, or atleast to Aubrey it seemed that long. However as she made her way towards the long Ravenclaw table, she could feel a sense of belonging. She gently touched her wand which was attached to her side, smiling she sat down and flashed her fellow house mates a smile. Everyone greeted her and she began to meet people.
"We've all got both light and dark inside us. What matters is the part we choose to act on. That's who we really are."
-Sirius Black
Strength: 4 | Intelligence: 9 | Temperance: 6
6 May 2019, 04:09
The Sorting ceremony 2018-2019
Watching everyone being sorted intimidated Grayson a bit. As he was sure he would be sorted Gryffindor, what if he wasn't? What if the hat decides something else, and he corrupts his family lineage of Gryffindors. Even though he didn't have that much family to return home to, it would still ruin everything on his family tree.
As he watched the girl with the content smile be sorted, he was immediately filled with anxiety. The hat had spoke of her long history of Gryffindors, but she seemed to have a different house in mind. He could almost recall her saying that she was 'different'.
When it had mentioned Malfoy... Well, he didn't have the best thoughts in mind, as he was afraid of another bitter-hearted soul that matched the personality of Draco.
As the hat slowly led up to the declaration of the girl's house, Grayson had already knew what the answer would be. A booming voice had then shouted the name of her house, and Grayson swore he was going to be sick. The word Slytherin bounced off the walls of the Great Hall.
After a few more students passed, his name was finally called.
"Grayson..Ackley?"The professor had called.
The boy had timidly walked to the wobbly stool and took a seat, nearly falling off of it. The professor standing behind him so delicately placed the hate on his soft blonde hair, and he felt his stomach drop.
"Hm..A nervous one, I see.. Worried that you wont make the right house? That you'll falter your family tree?" Grayson gulped nervously, subconscious to think straight. "Yes, yes you are very scared, but you also have a lot of potential. Very brave and charismatic." Grayson's mood shifted to a happier note when hearing the hat speak about him in a positive way.
"I know exactly where you fit. Yes.. Your destined house is..."
"Gryffindor!"
✧･ﾟ:* grayson *:･ﾟ✧*:
strength: 6 || agility: 8 || control: 9 || stamina: 7 ʕ •ᴥ•ʔ
7 May 2019, 15:13
The Sorting ceremony 2018-2019
Emerald was super excited to know Were she belonged was curious to know what kind of people will she meet and weather she will be able to make any friends and so on
and as she was thinking about this she herd a stern voice call out "Emerald Grimstone''
She stared for a bit but controlled herself from doing anything stupid and she slowly started to walk towards the sorting hat she felt like everyone was staring at her
as she Gently sat on the stool
And the hat was gently placed on her head the hat started, to mumble few words to her and after few seconds later it Said "I know exactly were you belong__ you belong to SLYTHERIN'' a smile appeared on her face she stood up from and went towards the table were all the slytherins were seated .
and as she was thinking about this she herd a stern voice call out "Emerald Grimstone''
She stared for a bit but controlled herself from doing anything stupid and she slowly started to walk towards the sorting hat she felt like everyone was staring at her
as she Gently sat on the stool
And the hat was gently placed on her head the hat started, to mumble few words to her and after few seconds later it Said "I know exactly were you belong__ you belong to SLYTHERIN'' a smile appeared on her face she stood up from and went towards the table were all the slytherins were seated .
8 May 2019, 04:25
The Sorting ceremony 2018-2019
The candles lit above Astrea's head in swaths of flickering orange lights, bouncing over the high ceiling as if the stars themselves had been taken to domesticity. They hovering candlesticks filled the Great Hall with a dim glow that seemed to soften and warm the unmarked black robes she wore.
She recalled the sight from the tales her cousins had often weaved during holidays and the Winter Solstice Galas her family hosted, stories passed down in whispering snatches from person to person as each bid their yearly goodbyes to the family manor.
As she sat ramrod straight with learned perfect posture, she started to skim her vision down from the darkened arch of the ceiling to the starting of paintings, floating in bronze-gilded frames that so resembled the family portraits that hung in the painting hall of GleamGate. The ghosts that haunted the castle bustled about the tables idly, laughing along with the older years as they talked amongst themselves.
The noise that filled the Great Hall suddenly died down as the announcing of names for sorting was bellowed out, the sharp bark of a British accent ringing through the shockingly quiet room. She could see from her place of a young boy standing up nervously, walking over hastily before clipping the edge of the stage to go up.
A bloom of slight anxiety budded in her chest, tightening it as she watched the other be practically swallowed by the oversized hat. She could hear the faint whispering coming from the Slytherin table. With a few mere minutes, the Sorting Hat had stopped its muttering and opened its mouth to speak.
"Alberdale, Markus." .... "Slytherin!"
A sudden bustle of clapping and whoops as the newly sorted Slytherin was invited in.
And so this continued.
"Warren Kirkland." .... "Slytherin!"
More clapping. More laughter.
"Cunningham, Eldridge." .... "Ravenclaw!"
Proud whistling.
"Gray, Brielle." .... "Slytherin!"
A collective gasp rang throughout the room, though it was quickly drowned out by cheering.
"Lovecharm, Aubrey." .... "Ravenclaw!"
A bit of a longer one, perhaps it would have gone even longer. But nevertheless, noise bolstered and echoed in the Great Hall.
"Ackley, Grayson." .... "Gryffindor!"
Timid looking at first. But perhaps Astrea should trust the Sorting Hat. Perhaps everyone should trust it. They were all destined to something, after all. Something great, something not.
"Grimstone, Emerald." .... "Slytherin!"
Merely a few seconds. And why did she feel like something was going to happen-
"Neptune-Chou, Astrea."
And so there it was. Her.
Astrea steeled her expression as she swung herself around and up off the bench, paying no mind to the sudden influx of whispering. With even steps of rushed clicks upon the floor, Astrea strode with faked calm across the hall. The bud of anxiety jostled in her chest, tightening its thorns around her heart and forcing it to beat faster.
"Neptune-Chou?" She heard someone loudly whisper, a hushed sound of confusion stem from ignorance. Her dark eyes remained neutral as she kept her pace.
"Aye. Old family, almost all Slytherin. Specially bred and born to imitate their version of perfection. You see- thick ebony hair, acrobatic figure, crisp and yet smooth accent. And massive magical aptitude." Another chimed in from a bit farther forward, leaning forward to look over the table.
Astrea bit her lip slightly as she overheard the various conversations that started to pop up quietly, a few of the older family's members explaining over the logistics of her own family.
"Aren't they rumored to be still dark?"
Ah, there it was. Such an old rumour- And perhaps there were still members of her family who still held hope in the old ways, in the ways of darkness, but they weren't all like that. She neared the stage, but her keen ears were still directing most of her attention behind her.
"Yeah- Not sure about that. But-"
Oh, who was she kidding? Even though they didn't follow the ways of the dark, its tendrils of power still curled deep into her family history, into its traditions and practices. It would never be let go, no matter how much she was uneasy.
"But really high class. Rich. Powerful. Untainted by muggle blood. And rather pretty~"
An awe-filled voice, clipped with an accent of aristocracy that resembled her own more than the other two. She took the sorting seat gracefully, careful to maintain her unbothered facade. Let them whisper. Let them talk. One day, she could prove to them she's more than her blood. That she's more than her own family and old ideas. Someday, she could prove to them she's in it to win it, to have the best damn time she possibly could. Because there will be stories and cheering that would follow her one day. She wouldn't be forgotten. She couldn't be forgotten.
"Sick, dude- She's 11. Literally a child-"[/i]
The voices were suddenly muffled as the Sorting Hat was placed upon her head, the weight heavy and slightly musky with the darkness that surrounded her.
[quote]"And yet another Neptune, I see? Oh, no. A Neptune-Chou. I remember your parents. Ambitious. Do you share that?" A croaky voice filled her hearing, masking the mutterings from outside the small bubble of decision.
"Ah, but of course. Ambition is something not to be questioned, not with you. But let's see. You have a strong pull of loyalty- but it only extends to those you care for. Not Hufflepuff, and not Ravenclaw. Perhaps Gryffindor?"
She didn't say anything. Was she really fit to be in the house of lions? Was she really one of them?
"I see. Just treatment is dear to you, isn't it? Brave enough. But no. No, no, no, no. Gryffindor would not suit you. Maybe if you held different ideals, different wantings. But my, what a heart. Tainted gold, I see. Curious."
Oh, how much of a toll this put upon her. Nearly her entire family has been put into Slytherin. Nearly everyone except for her generation. The Wild Card Generation. Her sorting must have already taken 15 minutes already, with the Sorting Hat mulling over the different options. She clutched at the wooden chair tightly, suddenly feeling something in her very soul snap into place. And another to break away.
"I see it now. I see it clear enough now. Perhaps you might not find solace in it, perhaps you might not be like the others. But I see it now. Take my word, take my advice to place you into the house of-"
"Slytherin!"
From the small bubble of black she was surrounded in, she could hear the collective sudden cheer of celebration from her newly-sorted house. Astrea could hear the professor's heels click against the floor toward her to take off the sorting hat, hear the mutterings of people claiming there was no other house for her, no other place for her and yet-
"With a grain of salt."
And then the sorting hat was lifted off of her, its leather boundary of black suddenly being filled with orange light and the reserved- yet clearly proud faces of her housemates. Clapping resounded from the entire Great Hall.
With that, she stood up with a flourish, a slight smile wrought upon her face and walked over to the Slytherin table with her head held high- high with celebration, high with learned practice, high with careful years of chiding for proper posture.
And as she sat down at her table, she felt a warm hand clasp upon her shoulder. Familiar.
"Welcome to Slytherin, my star~" Isuel congratulated her, a spark of brotherly pride and happiness for her shining just as brightly in his eye as his smile of perfectly straight white teeth.
She smiled back, something small and hesitant and not very practised at all, but something genuinely alright- content- with her new house. Her brother's friends greeted her, and their housemates celebrated briefly a new arrival to their little family of sometimes misjudged, sometimes remembered, sometimes loved, and sometimes hated-
"...A grain of salt," huh?
She recalled the sight from the tales her cousins had often weaved during holidays and the Winter Solstice Galas her family hosted, stories passed down in whispering snatches from person to person as each bid their yearly goodbyes to the family manor.
As she sat ramrod straight with learned perfect posture, she started to skim her vision down from the darkened arch of the ceiling to the starting of paintings, floating in bronze-gilded frames that so resembled the family portraits that hung in the painting hall of GleamGate. The ghosts that haunted the castle bustled about the tables idly, laughing along with the older years as they talked amongst themselves.
The noise that filled the Great Hall suddenly died down as the announcing of names for sorting was bellowed out, the sharp bark of a British accent ringing through the shockingly quiet room. She could see from her place of a young boy standing up nervously, walking over hastily before clipping the edge of the stage to go up.
A bloom of slight anxiety budded in her chest, tightening it as she watched the other be practically swallowed by the oversized hat. She could hear the faint whispering coming from the Slytherin table. With a few mere minutes, the Sorting Hat had stopped its muttering and opened its mouth to speak.
"Alberdale, Markus." .... "Slytherin!"
A sudden bustle of clapping and whoops as the newly sorted Slytherin was invited in.
And so this continued.
"Warren Kirkland." .... "Slytherin!"
More clapping. More laughter.
"Cunningham, Eldridge." .... "Ravenclaw!"
Proud whistling.
"Gray, Brielle." .... "Slytherin!"
A collective gasp rang throughout the room, though it was quickly drowned out by cheering.
"Lovecharm, Aubrey." .... "Ravenclaw!"
A bit of a longer one, perhaps it would have gone even longer. But nevertheless, noise bolstered and echoed in the Great Hall.
"Ackley, Grayson." .... "Gryffindor!"
Timid looking at first. But perhaps Astrea should trust the Sorting Hat. Perhaps everyone should trust it. They were all destined to something, after all. Something great, something not.
"Grimstone, Emerald." .... "Slytherin!"
Merely a few seconds. And why did she feel like something was going to happen-
"Neptune-Chou, Astrea."
And so there it was. Her.
Astrea steeled her expression as she swung herself around and up off the bench, paying no mind to the sudden influx of whispering. With even steps of rushed clicks upon the floor, Astrea strode with faked calm across the hall. The bud of anxiety jostled in her chest, tightening its thorns around her heart and forcing it to beat faster.
"Neptune-Chou?" She heard someone loudly whisper, a hushed sound of confusion stem from ignorance. Her dark eyes remained neutral as she kept her pace.
"Aye. Old family, almost all Slytherin. Specially bred and born to imitate their version of perfection. You see- thick ebony hair, acrobatic figure, crisp and yet smooth accent. And massive magical aptitude." Another chimed in from a bit farther forward, leaning forward to look over the table.
Astrea bit her lip slightly as she overheard the various conversations that started to pop up quietly, a few of the older family's members explaining over the logistics of her own family.
"Aren't they rumored to be still dark?"
Ah, there it was. Such an old rumour- And perhaps there were still members of her family who still held hope in the old ways, in the ways of darkness, but they weren't all like that. She neared the stage, but her keen ears were still directing most of her attention behind her.
"Yeah- Not sure about that. But-"
Oh, who was she kidding? Even though they didn't follow the ways of the dark, its tendrils of power still curled deep into her family history, into its traditions and practices. It would never be let go, no matter how much she was uneasy.
"But really high class. Rich. Powerful. Untainted by muggle blood. And rather pretty~"
An awe-filled voice, clipped with an accent of aristocracy that resembled her own more than the other two. She took the sorting seat gracefully, careful to maintain her unbothered facade. Let them whisper. Let them talk. One day, she could prove to them she's more than her blood. That she's more than her own family and old ideas. Someday, she could prove to them she's in it to win it, to have the best damn time she possibly could. Because there will be stories and cheering that would follow her one day. She wouldn't be forgotten. She couldn't be forgotten.
"Sick, dude- She's 11. Literally a child-"[/i]
The voices were suddenly muffled as the Sorting Hat was placed upon her head, the weight heavy and slightly musky with the darkness that surrounded her.
[quote]"And yet another Neptune, I see? Oh, no. A Neptune-Chou. I remember your parents. Ambitious. Do you share that?" A croaky voice filled her hearing, masking the mutterings from outside the small bubble of decision.
"Ah, but of course. Ambition is something not to be questioned, not with you. But let's see. You have a strong pull of loyalty- but it only extends to those you care for. Not Hufflepuff, and not Ravenclaw. Perhaps Gryffindor?"
She didn't say anything. Was she really fit to be in the house of lions? Was she really one of them?
"I see. Just treatment is dear to you, isn't it? Brave enough. But no. No, no, no, no. Gryffindor would not suit you. Maybe if you held different ideals, different wantings. But my, what a heart. Tainted gold, I see. Curious."
Oh, how much of a toll this put upon her. Nearly her entire family has been put into Slytherin. Nearly everyone except for her generation. The Wild Card Generation. Her sorting must have already taken 15 minutes already, with the Sorting Hat mulling over the different options. She clutched at the wooden chair tightly, suddenly feeling something in her very soul snap into place. And another to break away.
"I see it now. I see it clear enough now. Perhaps you might not find solace in it, perhaps you might not be like the others. But I see it now. Take my word, take my advice to place you into the house of-"
"Slytherin!"
From the small bubble of black she was surrounded in, she could hear the collective sudden cheer of celebration from her newly-sorted house. Astrea could hear the professor's heels click against the floor toward her to take off the sorting hat, hear the mutterings of people claiming there was no other house for her, no other place for her and yet-
"With a grain of salt."
And then the sorting hat was lifted off of her, its leather boundary of black suddenly being filled with orange light and the reserved- yet clearly proud faces of her housemates. Clapping resounded from the entire Great Hall.
With that, she stood up with a flourish, a slight smile wrought upon her face and walked over to the Slytherin table with her head held high- high with celebration, high with learned practice, high with careful years of chiding for proper posture.
And as she sat down at her table, she felt a warm hand clasp upon her shoulder. Familiar.
"Welcome to Slytherin, my star~" Isuel congratulated her, a spark of brotherly pride and happiness for her shining just as brightly in his eye as his smile of perfectly straight white teeth.
She smiled back, something small and hesitant and not very practised at all, but something genuinely alright- content- with her new house. Her brother's friends greeted her, and their housemates celebrated briefly a new arrival to their little family of sometimes misjudged, sometimes remembered, sometimes loved, and sometimes hated-
"...A grain of salt," huh?
Last edited by Astrea Soleil Neptune on 9 May 2019, 05:14, edited 1 time in total.
| astrea neptune ... | ... johannes sauer |
| hogwarts wizardry. duellist. | durmstrang. horntail horde. |
8 May 2019, 17:03
The Sorting ceremony 2018-2019
"Why everyone seem so nervous?" Donna asked herself, when she and the other first years entered the Great Hall. Some tried to look brave, but tense look in their eyes was giving them away, others looked visibly terrified. Four house tables were packed with smiling students. "I'm starving, it's a crime the food is already here, and we need to wait..." a freckled boy complained when they were passing by towards the teachers table. But Donna didn't feel hunger, she wasn't afraid neither. She was very, very excited. So much new stuff, all the things dad didn't tell her about are right here, in this castle!
"Is that a... hat?" Undoubtedly it was an old, dusty hat. But when it started to sing Donna noticed that it looked... Different, a bit younger... Maybe not younger, but unexpectedly powerful. This feeling of empowerment passed on her making her know that there's no such thing as a 'wrong' house, not for her.
At least that's what she wanted to believe. Deep inside she hoped to be sorted into Hufflepuff, like her Father. Donna's mum is a muggle, and her dad is the only wizard she knew. But he was always busy and distant. She was very proud to be his daughter, after all he's a healer at St. Mungo's Hospital, and his patients needed him more, but still... At these rare occasions when they spent time together, he used to tell her that the greatest friends are to be found in Hufflepuff, but nothing more, no matter how many times she asked.
But Donna wasn't thinking about it now. After the Hat finished his song, the sorting ceremony started. And it was long. Very long. How is she supposed to simply stand here and do nothing? A tall boy standing next to her looked as bored as she was.
"Hi, I'm Donna" she greeted him quietly so teachers couldn't hear it. His cold eyes looked at her with this sort of look that makes your stomach sink, and then he turned away, saying nothing.
"Wha...?" She didn't finish her thought because her name was just read out loud. It was her turn.
The Sorting Hat was definitely to big, and fell on her nose so she barely saw anything. She clung to the wibbly wobbly stool she was sitting on, waiting for something to happen.
"I remember your Father, Donna Summer..." Her stomach sunk again. "I can see him in you... So many emotions, so much empathy..." The Hat suddenly fell silent, almost hesitant. Donna thought that she needs to prove herself.
"I'll be a good Hufflepuff, I've heard there are plants in the Hufflepuff Common Room, I can take good care of them."
"I don't doubt your abilities..." The Hat replied amused "but is that really what you are?" Donna almost agreed. Almost. "You are not your Father, and you don't need to be... What you need is to understand, and there's no better house for those seeking knowledge than...
Donna stood up with the unexpected feeling of lightness and peace. For the first time in her life she felt truly free. A cheering crowd welcomed her as she took off the Hat. "But what's there to understand?" She asked herself while heading to the Ravenclaw table to meet with her new family.
"Is that a... hat?" Undoubtedly it was an old, dusty hat. But when it started to sing Donna noticed that it looked... Different, a bit younger... Maybe not younger, but unexpectedly powerful. This feeling of empowerment passed on her making her know that there's no such thing as a 'wrong' house, not for her.
At least that's what she wanted to believe. Deep inside she hoped to be sorted into Hufflepuff, like her Father. Donna's mum is a muggle, and her dad is the only wizard she knew. But he was always busy and distant. She was very proud to be his daughter, after all he's a healer at St. Mungo's Hospital, and his patients needed him more, but still... At these rare occasions when they spent time together, he used to tell her that the greatest friends are to be found in Hufflepuff, but nothing more, no matter how many times she asked.
But Donna wasn't thinking about it now. After the Hat finished his song, the sorting ceremony started. And it was long. Very long. How is she supposed to simply stand here and do nothing? A tall boy standing next to her looked as bored as she was.
"Hi, I'm Donna" she greeted him quietly so teachers couldn't hear it. His cold eyes looked at her with this sort of look that makes your stomach sink, and then he turned away, saying nothing.
"Wha...?" She didn't finish her thought because her name was just read out loud. It was her turn.
The Sorting Hat was definitely to big, and fell on her nose so she barely saw anything. She clung to the wibbly wobbly stool she was sitting on, waiting for something to happen.
"I remember your Father, Donna Summer..." Her stomach sunk again. "I can see him in you... So many emotions, so much empathy..." The Hat suddenly fell silent, almost hesitant. Donna thought that she needs to prove herself.
"I'll be a good Hufflepuff, I've heard there are plants in the Hufflepuff Common Room, I can take good care of them."
"I don't doubt your abilities..." The Hat replied amused "but is that really what you are?" Donna almost agreed. Almost. "You are not your Father, and you don't need to be... What you need is to understand, and there's no better house for those seeking knowledge than...
RAVENCLAW
Donna stood up with the unexpected feeling of lightness and peace. For the first time in her life she felt truly free. A cheering crowd welcomed her as she took off the Hat. "But what's there to understand?" She asked herself while heading to the Ravenclaw table to meet with her new family.