13 Aug 2018, 00:48
A Muggle & A Pureblood
july 16th
Canning, Liverpool
6:05 pm
"unexpected friendships are the best ones."
AS was expected, Rhea's parents were not pleased with the fact that she was sorted into Gryffindor. They were mad, furious, angry; they scolded Rhea like it was the end of the world. Of course, she was 'punished' (because in their twisted minds they thought it was somehow her fault that she was a good, strong, brave soul) and thus, wasn't allowed to go out of the east wing of the manor for two weeks (this limited her to only her room (which was a suite) and the library, as well as a mini-parlor that contained some snacks in a mini fridge. So maybe it wasn't that big of a loss, but Rhea was used to a whole lot of space to do whatever she wanted). Of course, house elves still brought up meals for her; but other than them, Rhea had no social interaction. Usually, that wouldn't have phased Rhea - she didn't have any actual close friends prior to Hogwarts; now that she did, the fact that she couldn't visit anyone for two weeks was a loss.
Soon enough, like anything, the two weeks ended. Rhea was allowed to go outside again, and she could even visit her friends should she wish to! However, then she realized - her friends were still at camp. Her parents had sent Aida away for the rest of the month, because they still didn't want Rhea to be happy, and they had forbidden any house elves to interact with her. Thus, Rhea was stuck being alone in the huge mansion. Except for the fact that over the course of her year at Hogwarts, Rhea had gotten a little bit more confident in breaking adults' wishes. Especially her parents' wishes.
That was how she found herself sneaking out of the Manor. As a child, she'd explored every square inch of the place - and had found multiple exits, but had always been way too scared to use them. Besides, what could she use them for? It's not like she could just find some Muggle and become friends with them immediately. Now, as an almost 13 year old, Rhea gathered her wits and decided to use one of those secret exits. The one that first popped into her head was the one in the library - the secret exit that showed up once you pulled on a specific book. Yes, it was cliche, but this house was ancient! It would only make sense if the Manor had something like that.
Getting to the library with adrenaline pumping through her veins, Rhea found the book and pulled it out. She couldn't hear the scratchiness of the walls as they opened to showcase the staircase, or the sound of her footsteps running down the never ending stairs. The only thing that filled her ears was the sound of her beating heart. She had never done anything like this, had never even thought of doing something like this - yet here she was, running down the stairs, finding her way to the bottom of the Manor, seeing the exit... and there she stood, outside on the front lawn.
The thrill slowly started to ebb as she realized what she had just done. Although her parents had not outrightly told her not to leave the Manor, they had indirectly implied it. Oh, well. She would use that against them should they scold her.. but for now, she was too busy walking across the vast green lawn, making her way towards the nearest Muggle town. Now, she was older, and maybe she could find some Muggle and at least become friends with them for the day. And maybe, if Rhea really liked them, she would risk sneaking out more often to meet them.
As she walked, a feeling of unease seemed to settle onto her little body. The vast mansion towered behind her as she moved farther and farther away, as if shadowing that something bad was going to happen - or something was going to go wrong. That feeling, however, was quite familiar to Rhea - something always went wrong, whatever she did.
Finally, the redhead made it out of the Bishop property and was on her own to the town, her footsteps making a crunch against the gravel of the sidewalk that echoed due to the silence. The part of town that the Bishops lived in as mostly unoccupied - or the people who did live there had gone somewhere on vacation. Besides, everyone knew not to bother the family with the largest house on the block. The Bishops reputation among the Muggle was not a nice one - they were known as rude, spoiled, entitled people; they were not a family that was high on anyone's 'to meet' list. It didn't particularly bother Rhea - she would now be at Hogwarts for most of the year, and during the summer, she wasn't allowed out of the Manor. That, or she was being whisked off to various dinner parties.
But now, as she slowly found herself closer to the town, she wondered if anyone would ignore purposefully simply because of her family's reputation. She had never personally met any townsfolk, but from what she assumed, they could be no different than her own family (except slightly nicer). Everyone that lived in this area of Canning was wealthy, and although not all rich people were the same, most were standoffish and acted entitled. But reputations precede, and Rhea worried that no one would want to talk to her.
That is, if anyone realized she was a Bishop. What if she didn't tell people she was a Bishop? She could make up a perfectly average last name... like Jackson, or Harris. Rhea Harris sounded better, so the redhead she would tell anyone who asked that was her real name.
Squinting, Rhea was able to make out the first few shops that marked the beginning of the town square. Picking up her pace, Rhea reached the hustle and bustle of the town in a matter of moments. Smiling wide, she looked around. She'd made it. Here, Rhea would be able to do whatever she wanted, without her father scolding her loudly about every single tiny thing she messed up. She would be able to buy sweets, talk to Muggle, pretend to be one of them. The thought was liberating, and the smile widened on her face.
From Aida's stories, Rhea remembered that she had been in the town square once before, before her magic surfaced. Her and Aida were walking around town, and Rhea decided that she wanted some ice cream. After they got ice cream, Aida took Rhea to a little park nearby. Rhea wondered if the park was still there, and decided to head to the ice cream shop first.
To her delight, 'The Creamery' was still there. Rhea walked in, the bells jingling after her, and went to stand in line. Thanking the gods above that her nanny - or ex nanny - had given her Muggle money in case she ever needed to go into town (was Aida a Seer? Maybe), Rhea took out some bills out of her pocket. She only hoped it was enough. When her turn came, the redhead ordered two scoops of caramel in a cone, before taking it out and walking across the street to the park. Looking around for somewhere to do, Rhea found a tree to sit beneath. Although she was carrying an ice cream cone, the sun was beating down on her shoulders and she needed some shade. The tree was huge, provided enough shade to cover the red-haired girl's head from frying.
As she sat there, Rhea leaned her head against the large trunk of the tree and sighed. She needed this. The ability to relax for the first time in a while came as a nice change, and Rhea appreciated that. Her eyes drank in the children playing football in the park, or tag, and some just sitting around, talking. She craved to be able to join them, or at least, to see her own friends... but she didn't get up to join any of them. Quite frankly, she enjoyed eating her ice cream alone. Being alone was not necessarily a bad thing, the redhead had come to learn over the course of her two week in 'solitary confinement'.
Now, she quite liked simply looking at others enjoying her time. Taking a lick of her ice cream, Rhea took a deep breath and smiled, at peace.
Soon enough, like anything, the two weeks ended. Rhea was allowed to go outside again, and she could even visit her friends should she wish to! However, then she realized - her friends were still at camp. Her parents had sent Aida away for the rest of the month, because they still didn't want Rhea to be happy, and they had forbidden any house elves to interact with her. Thus, Rhea was stuck being alone in the huge mansion. Except for the fact that over the course of her year at Hogwarts, Rhea had gotten a little bit more confident in breaking adults' wishes. Especially her parents' wishes.
That was how she found herself sneaking out of the Manor. As a child, she'd explored every square inch of the place - and had found multiple exits, but had always been way too scared to use them. Besides, what could she use them for? It's not like she could just find some Muggle and become friends with them immediately. Now, as an almost 13 year old, Rhea gathered her wits and decided to use one of those secret exits. The one that first popped into her head was the one in the library - the secret exit that showed up once you pulled on a specific book. Yes, it was cliche, but this house was ancient! It would only make sense if the Manor had something like that.
Getting to the library with adrenaline pumping through her veins, Rhea found the book and pulled it out. She couldn't hear the scratchiness of the walls as they opened to showcase the staircase, or the sound of her footsteps running down the never ending stairs. The only thing that filled her ears was the sound of her beating heart. She had never done anything like this, had never even thought of doing something like this - yet here she was, running down the stairs, finding her way to the bottom of the Manor, seeing the exit... and there she stood, outside on the front lawn.
The thrill slowly started to ebb as she realized what she had just done. Although her parents had not outrightly told her not to leave the Manor, they had indirectly implied it. Oh, well. She would use that against them should they scold her.. but for now, she was too busy walking across the vast green lawn, making her way towards the nearest Muggle town. Now, she was older, and maybe she could find some Muggle and at least become friends with them for the day. And maybe, if Rhea really liked them, she would risk sneaking out more often to meet them.
As she walked, a feeling of unease seemed to settle onto her little body. The vast mansion towered behind her as she moved farther and farther away, as if shadowing that something bad was going to happen - or something was going to go wrong. That feeling, however, was quite familiar to Rhea - something always went wrong, whatever she did.
Finally, the redhead made it out of the Bishop property and was on her own to the town, her footsteps making a crunch against the gravel of the sidewalk that echoed due to the silence. The part of town that the Bishops lived in as mostly unoccupied - or the people who did live there had gone somewhere on vacation. Besides, everyone knew not to bother the family with the largest house on the block. The Bishops reputation among the Muggle was not a nice one - they were known as rude, spoiled, entitled people; they were not a family that was high on anyone's 'to meet' list. It didn't particularly bother Rhea - she would now be at Hogwarts for most of the year, and during the summer, she wasn't allowed out of the Manor. That, or she was being whisked off to various dinner parties.
But now, as she slowly found herself closer to the town, she wondered if anyone would ignore purposefully simply because of her family's reputation. She had never personally met any townsfolk, but from what she assumed, they could be no different than her own family (except slightly nicer). Everyone that lived in this area of Canning was wealthy, and although not all rich people were the same, most were standoffish and acted entitled. But reputations precede, and Rhea worried that no one would want to talk to her.
That is, if anyone realized she was a Bishop. What if she didn't tell people she was a Bishop? She could make up a perfectly average last name... like Jackson, or Harris. Rhea Harris sounded better, so the redhead she would tell anyone who asked that was her real name.
Squinting, Rhea was able to make out the first few shops that marked the beginning of the town square. Picking up her pace, Rhea reached the hustle and bustle of the town in a matter of moments. Smiling wide, she looked around. She'd made it. Here, Rhea would be able to do whatever she wanted, without her father scolding her loudly about every single tiny thing she messed up. She would be able to buy sweets, talk to Muggle, pretend to be one of them. The thought was liberating, and the smile widened on her face.
From Aida's stories, Rhea remembered that she had been in the town square once before, before her magic surfaced. Her and Aida were walking around town, and Rhea decided that she wanted some ice cream. After they got ice cream, Aida took Rhea to a little park nearby. Rhea wondered if the park was still there, and decided to head to the ice cream shop first.
To her delight, 'The Creamery' was still there. Rhea walked in, the bells jingling after her, and went to stand in line. Thanking the gods above that her nanny - or ex nanny - had given her Muggle money in case she ever needed to go into town (was Aida a Seer? Maybe), Rhea took out some bills out of her pocket. She only hoped it was enough. When her turn came, the redhead ordered two scoops of caramel in a cone, before taking it out and walking across the street to the park. Looking around for somewhere to do, Rhea found a tree to sit beneath. Although she was carrying an ice cream cone, the sun was beating down on her shoulders and she needed some shade. The tree was huge, provided enough shade to cover the red-haired girl's head from frying.
As she sat there, Rhea leaned her head against the large trunk of the tree and sighed. She needed this. The ability to relax for the first time in a while came as a nice change, and Rhea appreciated that. Her eyes drank in the children playing football in the park, or tag, and some just sitting around, talking. She craved to be able to join them, or at least, to see her own friends... but she didn't get up to join any of them. Quite frankly, she enjoyed eating her ice cream alone. Being alone was not necessarily a bad thing, the redhead had come to learn over the course of her two week in 'solitary confinement'.
Now, she quite liked simply looking at others enjoying her time. Taking a lick of her ice cream, Rhea took a deep breath and smiled, at peace.
"unexpected friendships are the best ones."
the trouble is, if you don't risk anything -- you risk more.
♕ℛ ♕
STAMINA: 4; EVASION: 10; STRENGTH: 8; WISDOM: 6; ARCANE POWER: 5; ACCURACY: 12
14 Aug 2018, 00:23
A Muggle & A Pureblood
Eris will not be taking place in this thread, rather I will be playing a muggle boy.
It was hot outside, and Christopher was covered in a sickly ring of sweat, as he hummed, walking down the cobbled path to the ice cream shop. His pockets were stuffed with a £5 bill and a three ten pence coins, which the boy hoped would be enough to cover the charge of a small ice cream cone. Christopher hobbled through the empty streets, knowing the other children of the quaint little town would be playing in the park close to the ice cream store, which was in the center of the town. Christopher lived near the end of the town, in a small cottage, that was hardly large enough for his family and two dogs. It was unfair, while he struggled to get by, the upper elite of their small town lived in lavish manors, assuming they were better than the few who could not afford a vacation home in the quaint town, or could not afford to fake credibility in the torturous society of the upper class.
Christopher, however, was not one to complain about such mundane issues. He cared not for money, not when he still had a roof above his head, and a book to read. The money currently in his hands had been a gift from another schoolyard friend, who had just happened to leave the money lying around, and had offered it to Chris as a belated birthday present. Chris hadn't cared much about the lame attempt at pretending to remember his birthday, but he had taken the money, and was glad for it, at the moment, as sweat dripped off of Christopher's head, and he painstakingly made his way to the ice cream store in the centre of town. His path to the Creamery would of been smoother, if not for the book crammed into his greasy hands, while his eyes focused on the tiny print, instead of the road in front of him.
The well worn path was known to Chris, and he knew where he was going, and of their own accord, his feet found their placements on cobbled stones, while his eyes darted across the pages. His 12th birthday had just came, and Christopher was to start another year at secondary school, at the local public school, which was small and cramped with the children of the town, and a few teachers who cared little for the pubescent children sweating up their classrooms with a mix of hormones and absurd arguments, that were often dropped minutes after they started.
The gift for Christopher's birthday had been a small book, the one that was currently in his hands. The Wrinkle in Time. It hadn't been what Christopher wanted, but from the grimace on her mother's normally happy face, he knew there were no other books in the village bookstore that were in the family's price range, because they were saving.
Unlike Christopher, Christopher's parents wanted to be social, they wanted to be in the upperclass. Christopher's mum dreamed of going to fancy dinner parties with the strange Bishop family and dreamed of sipping tea and dining on crumpets every afternoon, like a woman out of a TV show, such as Downtown Abbey. Her dreams were futile, but her husband dreamed in the same vibrant shades of gold, wishing for a life that didn't require long hours of work, and days where he could sit on a porch chair, sipping ale and reminiscing like all wealthy men did. His father was less hopeful, but sometimes, Chris would catch him staring at the towering stone mansions with a wistful expression on his face.
His parents had moved from London, hoping for a life that was better, far from the crowds and expenses that ran rampart though the busy city streets. They were young then, Chris's mother hardly pregnant with her son. They had moved into the small cottage, and gotten jobs, but they had expected to climb in the circles of the town's society, to someday live in a prized manor home on the top of the hill.
They never did, and their small cottage on the outskirts of the town was all the family of three had. Christopher had accepted that his life wasn't perfect, but his parents hadn't. Driven by some sick sense to prove they were good parents, and driven by their inner ambitions to live a life of luxury, the two had taken on long hours at work, and habits of hardly spending any money, unless completely necessary.
Even though it was Summer, Christopher was often alone at home, and had spent most of his days outside in the fresh air. Today was not an exception, even though it was hotter than any day Christopher could remember from the summer so far. His eyes skimmed over the pages of his book, until the sounds of the chattering of the town square reached his ears, and Thomas knew it would be dangerous to not look at the road, in case any cars came by and he found himself walking in the street.
Carefully taking out the book mark from where it lay at the end of the book, Chris shoved it into the crease of the page he was on, before continuing his stroll, book tucked safely under his arm. Waving at those he knew, the boy made his way over to the ice cream parlor, catching a glimpse of red hair ducking into the shop around the same time as he entered, to the loud announcement of the dangling bell, overhead.
The red head was in front of Chris in line, and she looked extremely out of place. Chris happened to know most children in the town, considering how small the town school was. Everyone knew everyone, besides for the illustrious Bishops, but this girl couldn't be a Bishop. Chris scoffed at the idea of a high and mighty Bishop mingling with the common folk, even if his eyes caught on the girl in front of him.
When her turn was over, Chris stepped up, beaming at the lady behind the counter, who he vaguely knew as one of the parents on the PTA, who sometimes stepped into Chris's classroom, to talk to the children and the teacher. She smiled back, but Chris knew she was wondering if he had the money to afford the ice cream. Everyone in town knew about Christopher's parents, and their fondness for saving up and not paying for their son.
To his delight, Christopher was able to pay for a simple ice cream cone with a flake, and the woman's profuse shock. Grinning, Chris exited the shop, chewing on the chocolate flake embedded in the side of his soft serve. His friends played in the field, kicking a futball back and forth, but Chris looked away from them, to the shade of the tree, where the red head was sitting.
She looked lost, watching the children play, and Chris was more sure than ever that she was from out of town. Everyone knew everyone, and Chris knew nothing about the girl in front of him. Before he could scare himself out of talking to a new person, Christopher marched towards the lone tree, still licking his ice cream, while his book dangled under the other arm.
Pausing, the shaggy strands of his brown hair falling into his tanned face, Christopher stopped to adjust his glasses, setting the book down on the ground near the girl. Taking another lick of his ice cream, Christopher grinned crookedly at the newcomer.
"Are you from out of town? I've never seen you before."
Last edited by Eris Fawley on 5 Sep 2018, 17:25, edited 1 time in total.
sorry not sorry bout' what i said
STA: 6 EVA: 7 STR: 1 WIS: 8 ACC 9 ACC: 9
abilities: transfig DC -5
25 Aug 2018, 21:49
A Muggle & A Pureblood
you look like a movie
you sound like a song
my god this reminds me
of when we were young
you sound like a song
my god this reminds me
of when we were young
ice cream was slowly melting, but the redhead didn't care. Scratch that, she actually did care, but not enough to tear her attention away from the intense game of football going and prevent her caramel from melting out of its cone. The sport, she noticed, was much like Quidditch... except without flying, with just one ball, and with only one goal for each team. It looked boring.
Whatever, though. It wasn't like she could simply get up and join the game - she assumed there were more rules for playing the weird Muggle game than there were for Quidditch, and Rhea wasn't bothered enough to learn of them. Besides, she didn't even know what the game they were playing was called! Surely it wasn't something like Quidditch-foot, was it?
Shrugging, Rhea settled for simply watching the game. Maybe she would learn by looking, and then she could ask to join in later? It all depended on her mood, honestly. And if she finished her ice cream by the time the next game had begun-
Oh god, her ice cream! It was dripping onto her lap in a mess of brown and cone. It was disgusting. She scrunched her nose and began to furiously dab at her lap, trying to get rid of the liquid before it etched herself into her expensive clothing. This was one of her favourite rompers, for crying out loud! She would be devastated if it got ruined. "Bloody hell, why isn't it coming off?! I swear, if this gets ruined-"
She was interrupted by a voice, asking if she was from out of town. She looked up and saw a boy, about the same age as her. Once realizing that she had just been scrubbing her shorts, Rhea grinned sheepishly and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. She hoped he hadn't noticed the stain on her shorts, but just for good measure, she maneuvered her arms so she was hiding it successfully.
To answer his question, Rhea almost said that she'd been living in the town all her life. But then she realized that that might lead the boy to think that she thought herself too preppy, or above, socializing with the 'common' townsfolk. Instead, she shrugged and took a lick of her melting ice cream. "I guess you could say that. I don't happen to get out much." She purposefully kept her answer vague, not wanting to explain to much.
"I'm Rhea, by the way. What's your name?" she scooched over as she spoke, just in case he wanted to take a seat next to her and prevent his ice cream from melting. But not too close, because she didn't want to get cooties - unlike some people in her year!
the trouble is, if you don't risk anything -- you risk more.
♕ℛ ♕
STAMINA: 4; EVASION: 10; STRENGTH: 8; WISDOM: 6; ARCANE POWER: 5; ACCURACY: 12
6 Sep 2018, 03:18
A Muggle & A Pureblood
disclaimer. i am not from manchester and i am sorry if i have insulted anyone in my loose interpretation of a mancunian accent.
Mint chocolate chip, he should of gotten mint chocolate chip. The boy pondered on, dreaming about the innate wonders of a glorious ice cream cone, with chocolate chips and green icing. He was perfectly content with his vanilla, but Chris wanted more. From the day he had been born and shunned by parents who craved money and the superficial delights of a son, nothing more, Chris had wanted more. He hungered for a house on top of the hill in lovely shades of beige and tan, but he was not like his parents. He would never save up his money or waste his precious pence on something as foreboding as a manor, when there were delightful objects for the very taking.
Like ice cream and pretty redheads to talk to. Chris was coming to the age where he thought that talking to girls was no longer cootie inducing, rather exciting and scary. There was already talk of dating at his school, and Chris was feeling left behind in the dust. Maybe this girl would like to date him? It would have been strange to ask that, so Chris was content in inquiring about the stranger, dressed in clothing that his mother would call ‘exquisite’. At least, his mother would have said that, until the boy caught sight of the brown stains on the romper.
Chris was not a shy boy, not by any standards. Yet, he was not an overly talkative fellow. He was much more content to spend his days reading and daydreaming about food then playing with the blokes of his neighborhood. Even so, he had a balance of sorts. He would spend the nights reading and the days playing, just to make sure he lived out the full ‘almost teenager but still annoying child’ days of his life. There would be plenty of time for relaxation and reading when he was older and out of the poor provincial town that had been his abode for the past years of his life.
Not getting out was a strange thing. Everyone knew everyone, and everything about their neighbors. Even Chris, who was one of the less gossipy people in town, could point out everyone playing on the field and about six secrets they wished to have covered up, ranging from embarrassing childhood stories to disobedience that parents could not find out about. It was scary, but also amazing, to have a girl with a blank slate.
Someone who knew nothing about him, and someone who he knew nothing about. The very idea of uncertainty filled Chris with fear and excitement, blinding the veil of laziness and impatience that he knew all too well. Face flushed crimson with excitement, and partly from the excruciatingly painful summer sun that drew down on his shoulders, Chris took a seat next to the girl.
“Rh-ea?”He said hesitantly, pronouncing out the words in his Manchester accent. Things had changed, but old habits die hard. Chris’s mum and dad still enjoyed talking in Mancunian, partly just to think about the past, and to make sure that Chris still retained some of the attributes of culture back out of the countryside.
“That’s a mint good name. Mi name is Chris, or Christopher, but that’s ‘agin, so I just go by Chris.” He waved, free hand in the air, as the other ruddy and grime coated hand clamped onto his ice cream cone salvation. His eyes searched the ground, making sure the bookmarked and well loved book wasn’t gone. When he was content the book was fine, Chris took another lick of his dripping ice cream, making sure to lick off the melting treat before it dropped to fall at his feet.
He was quiet for a moment, licking the ice cream, but a look at the girl next to him reminded him that he was supposed to be social. He had came up to her, after all.
“So what brings ya outside, if you don’t like ta get out a lot?”The boy inquired, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth, thinking how strange it was to meet someone who didn’t like to get out a lot. He personally was extroverted, and lived to leave the small crumbling edifice of a home that his parents claimed was his sanctuary.
Chris was young and one sided. He couldn’t truly imagine a person whose life would be spent inside the bars of a home, when life was so fleeting and moved so fast. He had yet to learn that the world was not based around him, and that his ideas about the world were not everybody’s to share. The fleeting idealism of childhood had not worn off, and unlike those at Hogwarts, he had never faced masked figures. The only bad thing that had ever happened in Chris’s life was when he broke his arm trying to read and walk at the same time, but that was just about all. Compared to Rhea, Chris was a mere child, but how was he supposed to know that? Chris was aching for friendship, and it seemed that Rhea might be a good friend to have on his side, or at least someone who didn’t know all the dirty secrets and stories of Chris’s family.
Last edited by Eris Fawley on 3 Nov 2018, 00:19, edited 1 time in total.
sorry not sorry bout' what i said
STA: 6 EVA: 7 STR: 1 WIS: 8 ACC 9 ACC: 9
abilities: transfig DC -5
22 Oct 2018, 23:31
A Muggle & A Pureblood
Her name pronounced by his unusual accent was a surprise for Rhea, who had gotten used to posh British accents over the course of the summer. This raw dialect was a pleasant change for the girl, who was so sick of the fakeness and strictness and uptightness she had been surrounded with in the Bishop Manor. If her parents, however, heard this accent of his, they would be shocked. The wordage, the slang, the abbreviations - her mother - who had always strived to make sure her daughter spoke in proper language - would faint!
The compliment was unexpected, and took the redhead off guard, so it was no surprise that she blushed - but of course, tried to hide it, because Rhea Bishop doesn't blush! "You said my name right! Not a lot of people do, I usually have to correct them," Rhea laughed shortly, licking her ice cream before continuing on, as if unable to stop herself. "Thank you, I guess. I was named after my grandmother - which I'd expect to be a lame name, 'cause she's an old lady, but Rhea's actually not too bad!" she rubbed the back of her neck sheepishly when she realized she was rambling, before distracting herself by taking a bite of her ice cream.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Chris," she said once she got over the tooth freeze the chill of the ice cream had given her, but as soon as the words left her mouth the girl began to worry. Was that too proper? Did children her age really talk like that? Had she already scared the one person who she had spoken to in a whole year that was not a wizard, or made her worry about her status in society? And finally, the best question...
Why was she worrying about all of this?
Rather than let all the questions swirling inside her stomach consume her mind, causing it to feel as if butterflies were swirling around... Rhea did what she had mastered to do over the past 12 years - she digested the damn butterflies. Emotions were not her strong suit, never were and probably never would be - so, Rhea threw a smile onto her face and moved her position a bit to relieve the ache on her back. She sat in silence for a bit, not aiming to talk a lot, but that plan went to dust when Chris asked her where she spent her time. It was then that she realized that... she hadn't really planned that far ahead in her story, and resorted to telling a morsel of the truth - she couldn't straight up tell him about Hogwarts, of course! She wasn't an idiot.
"I spend most of my days indoors studying, so I don't get to go outside all too much," Rhea shrugged, biting into her ice cream cone, almost finished with it. She used the napkin that had been provided to dab at her chin, make sure no ice cream was dripping. "My parents want me to the 'best of the best.' It's a pain in the... butt, sometimes," the redhead couldn't bring herself to swear, "but I don't really have a choice. But hey, I'm out here now, right? It's so nice out today." Rhea crammed the rest of her cone into her mouth - elegantly, of course - and grinned at Chris.
"Why are you out here?" she cast a look at the boys playing football in front of them; they seemed to be about Chris's age. "Why aren't you playing with them - whatever game they're playing? Not that I mind the company, but I guess I find it a bit peculiar," why was she talking so much? Rhea never spoke this much; she much preferred to keep the amount she spoke to a minimum. But clearly, that wasn't the case here! If only she still had an ice cream cone to bite into - aggressively biting into the cone might help ease whatever was causing her emotions to swirl inside her stomach - hadn't she digested the bloody butterflies?
the trouble is, if you don't risk anything -- you risk more.
♕ℛ ♕
STAMINA: 4; EVASION: 10; STRENGTH: 8; WISDOM: 6; ARCANE POWER: 5; ACCURACY: 12
3 Nov 2018, 03:27
A Muggle & A Pureblood
disclaimer. i am not from manchester and i am sorry if i have insulted anyone in my loose interpretation of a mancunian accent.
The dripping ice cream pooled onto the green grass below the two children, as the loud yells of other kids playing futbol rang in Chris’s ears. Yet, his attention was fixed on the stranger next to him, as he took another lick of the vanilla ice cream steadily dripping into his lap and the vibrant grass, somehow still alive after the dry summer. A faint twinge of colour grew on his own cheeks at Rhea’s blushing, as he wondered if he had said something wrong. He’d never seen a girl blush before, when just talking to him! It was strange enough for Chris to be taken aback, watching her face redden before Rhea started to ramble. Was she angry or flustered? Was it nice to ask why she was blushing? Nah, he should drop it.
“You’d have to be a Daft 'apeth ta think Rhea isn't a a sound name. Mi gran’s name is Panthy. Not exactly mint, ain’t it? It’s mingin, that name is.” His eyes widened when Rhea took a bite out of her ice cream, and he stared at her, as if in complete and utter shock. Clearly she was a bit more socially unaware than he thought she was, if biting ice cream like it was a candy bar was something she did on the daily.
The girl seemed to be in pain from the clear bite she had just taken of ice cream. As if biting ice cream was painful, which Chris assumed it was. He had never bit ice cream, and with a careful look around to make sure that nobody was watching, he dug his bottom teeth into the melting ice cream. The melting texture wasn’t exactly one that Chris was keen to bite into and the large bite of ice cream that he took wasn’t pleasant, unlike the simple comfort of licking a cone.
Grimacing slightly, he muffled a groan at the cold feeling the bottom of his teeth were experiencing and decided that teeth freeze was just as horrible as brain freeze, which were both horrible for a child to experience. His thoughts were elsewhere, but he mustered up another smile as Rhea said the boring formal greeting that his parents often gave to upper class people. Letting out a roar of laughter, pain in his teeth fading away in lue of the tingling sensation of laughter, Chris ran a hand through his sun-kissed hair and shook his head.
“You don’t a’vta sound so formal. You aren’t one of those crazy rich people living up in their ‘ouses and ‘aving parties every other ‘our.” Of course, Chris didn’t know that she really was one of those rich people that he feared so much and that his parents daydreamed about being, and from the easy smile on his face, he would never assume that Rhea was the Bishop heiress.
Finishing his cone with a solid chomp, biting into the waffle cone with a huge grin on his face, Chris wiped his hands on his face. Smearing even more ice cream on his already messy hands, the boy was careful not to touch the book lying on the grass in front of him. He might have been a slob, but he knew that ruining a birthday present was an unspeakable crime, when what little money the family hadn’t been saving was gifted to him.
“Studying inside all day? Ya cadging a day outta the ‘ouse right now? He grinned back at her, as she injusted the whole cone, and let out a solid laugh at the way she tried to cover up the mess of ice cream and waffle crumbs on her face.
Following her gaze to the futbol game, Chris waved at one of the blokes nearby, kicking a ball straight into the makeshift goal made out of two trash cans with a banner between them, that looked suspiciously like it had been ripped off of one of the nearby shopes. Now that Chris thought about it, the nearby book store looked as if it was mysteriously missing it’s banner welcoming visitors into the aisles of books to learn about the magic of reading.
Shaking his head again, Chris turned back to look at Rhea, feeling a blush find its way up his own face. Looking at her, he raised an eyebrow. ”That game? It’s futbol. You must be from very far from ‘ere if you think futbol is just ‘that game.’” He chuckled, but frowned as she kept talking.
“The peculiar thing is seeing a new person jus’ sitting alone with ice cream. I swear down, I’m not trying to flirt with ya, or whatever else those boys might be doing, but I just find it a bit more interesting to talk to a new person instead o’ those blokes."
sorry not sorry bout' what i said
STA: 6 EVA: 7 STR: 1 WIS: 8 ACC 9 ACC: 9
abilities: transfig DC -5