Sour Silence
It had only been a week since he had arrived, and so far... it had felt almost exactly like every other school he'd been to. He kept his head low, tried to keep as little attention on him as physically possible, and essentially spent his time going through the same motions as he had in 'muggle' school. The only difference was that now he had to wrap his head around magic and suddenly had to disregard everything he was taught about how reality worked. As per usual, though, he merely listened and occasionally took notes in class, but rarely participated in anything other than when he had to physically try to do the magic he was being taught. He spoke to no one, and during the time he was supposed to be doing the work he was handed out, he instead sketched in his sketchbook.==========
It was because of that, he was now working on his actual worksheets and assignments in the stillness of the library, silently wishing the school hadn't metaphorically taken any muggle electronics out back to silence them with their weird anti-technology field. He missed his iPod and his music. Perhaps he'd try to save up for a record player and records to carry around and play music... just to spite them. At the thought, he sighed, a sour look on his face. "Когда рак на горе свистнет..." 1 he muttered sourly. Where would he even get one of those?
Grumbling, he refocused on his work, finding himself growing increasingly more annoyed with the quill he was told he had to use. Finally, with a hiss of profanity, he threw it back in his bag, feeling his anger briefly spike as it instead... slowly drifted down, and landed outside of the bag. Growling darkly, he grabbed it again, shoving it into the back without any consideration of whether it would break. "Damn wizard-born and their insistance on being flashy..." he grumbled, instead grabbing a pencil from his sketching supplies and using that on his worksheet instead.
With the change in writing implement, he calmed down once again. Growing deeper in thought as time passed, leading to him absently chewing on the wood with an intense focus in his eyes. Cross-checking with his textbook, he soon leaned back and sighed, officially down 1 assignment. Well, he was making slow progress at the very least. Scratching at the back of his head, he frowned down at the rest of the pile he had. It seemed like he'd have to finish his most recent sketch later that night, unfortunately, but it was better than dealing with other students while he worked.
Speaking of, it seemed like the library would become one of his more usual haunts. He was enjoying the silence and the feeling of solitude it gave. Optimally, he'd like at least four places to escape from the activity and attention of usual 'student hangouts'. Given how massive this castle was, though, he was certain that over the years, he'd probably find far more than four hideouts for himself. At least in the Gryffindor tower, he had a nice view of the sky, he always enjoyed the silence that nighttime brought.
Too bad curfew kept him from actually being able to enjoy the nighttime view outside, though. He had always been more of a night owl, regardless of the impact on a 'healthy sleep'. At night, he didn't have to worry about any 'social interaction', or the attention of others, it was just him, and the midnight creatures out and about. He'd miss that.
==========
Translations |
1: "When the crawfish whistles from the hill." A saying similar to 'When pigs fly'.
Encyclopedia Link: Here
STATSReducio
===
Stamina: 5
Evasion: 10
Strength: 3
Wisdom: 5
ArcPower: 2
Accuracy: 10
===
Abilities | Sixth Sense
===
Sour Silence
mentions: @Sergei Voronin
word count: 738
Magnolia settling into Hogwarts had been nothing short of an uphill battle. Her lack of connection forming had been concerning to her mothers, considering they were urging her even more in their last letter. It wasn't from a lack of trying, it just seemed like she genuinely wasn't clicking with the other magical students like that. She never had long-lasting friendships in her life. But even back in her regular, non-magical school, she managed to at least have a handful of consistent faces to talk to. Here at Hogwarts, she had... Ella, her quill pal that she had never met face to face, and her stuffed Triceratops, TJ(who definitely counted as a friend). She tried to take it on the chin, that she was still settling in and needed more time to adjust to this life change. But too much time had passed, and she was genuinely feeling herself crumble at the social rejection she was facing.
But instead of thinking about it too much, she decided to do the one thing that wouldn't judge her too much: read. At least the words on the pages wouldn't ignore her earnest attempts at friendship or refuse to make space for her at the Hufflepuff table, despite being in the House known for friendship. ...yeah, she was settling in terribly. But at least when she was studying, or off in some fantasy land, she didn't have to think about it too much.
And so there she was, in her Hufflepuff robe that seemed too big for her frame, sitting at one of the long library tables while starting a fantasy book* her momma had sent her. It was about two girls who went to opposing magical schools, one good and one evil. Magical schools, like the one she sat in. It was almost funny that she was trying to escape the troubles of one magic school by reading about these fictional others... She had a couple of other books nearby, her Herbology and Potions textbooks, which were sitting neglected and were almost just decorations to make it seem like she was hard at work. She'd get to her homework... eventually.
She heard a nearby muttering and glanced over at the source of it: a boy. She wasn't close enough to hear what he had said; she was maybe a couple of meters away, so they each had their own space. But the sour look on his face was unmistakable. She saw that perhaps he was actually being productive, and nodded in solidarity at the understanding. All this magical homework was frustrating, and she had spent many days and nights huffing and sighing over her own textbooks.
And she watched with curious eyes as he hissed something and threw his quill back in his bag. Yet another thing she could relate to. Although writing to Ella and her moms has made her more used to writing with a quill, she still carried around her trusty wooden pencils and a sharpener. Just because technology didn't work at Hogwarts, doesn't mean she didn't bring some non-magical comforts from home. She glanced at her own, almost obnoxiously colorful in that Lisa Frank-esque way. But she liked them, and that's all that mattered to her.
She let the time pass, trying to focus on her book, absentmindedly enjoying the familiar sound of pencil writing on paper coming from nearby. After a bit, she heard the boy sigh, glancing up again and watching him frown at his small stack of papers. And a bit too nosy and eagle-eyed, she noticed that his pencil was looking a little dull. An opening.
Like devils on her shoulder, her moms' voices piped up in her ear, encouraging her to make social contact. She swallowed nervously, moving around her small pencil sharpener in her fingers. Her nerves were building, and she knew that she had to act before they got the best of her and she would end up doing nothing at all. Softly, she drummed the fingers of her other hand on the table before sliding the pencil sharpener towards the boy, looking at the sharpener and making small glances upwards rather than making direct eye contact.
She spoke softly, as if trying not to startle him. "...I don't like the quills either. I bring a bunch of my own pencils, too." She smiled lopsidedly, revealing a small gap in her tooth where her upper left canine should be.
Reducio* the book Magnolia is reading is The School for Good and Evil by Soman Chainnani. I actually have this book in my own personal library, and actually have the whole series :3
Sour Silence
He glanced up as the girl approached him, eyes sharp and expression hard to read. Looking her over as if sizing up an opponent in a boxing ring, he noted the nervous glances. In all honesty, it left him a tad confused. If she was this anxious about simply talking to someone, why try? Usually, if he felt uneasy, he avoided people. Shifting as he heard the light scrape of the pencil sharpener, he glanced down at it, blinking. Her words then caught his attention once more, his silver gaze seeming skeptical as he tried to gauge any ulterior motive from her.==========
She was quiet, though, which already made her better than 90% of his housemates. When she smiled, he quirked a brow; she was friendly—and honestly too timid to feel like a threat to him, unlike most. He sensed nothing off about her, and she was nonirritating. For once, he didn't feel snappy around someone who had the guts to approach his generally unfriendly presence. He supposed he wouldn't chase her away immediately, and that totally wasn't just because he needed a break from his homework anyway.
Reaching over, he did grab the pencil sharpener [despite having his own anyway], beginning to sharpen his graphite back to a point before responding. "Mm, quills counterproductive. Block my vision, one gust of wind ends up throwing off lines I'm trying to draw," He grumbled, Russian accent thick over his voice, yet still leaving it understandable. Pulling his pencil out of the sharpener, he examined the point, appreciating that it hadn't snapped the graphite or sharpened it oddly. "Don't understand why magic-users decided to make standard. Flamboyant, just like hats." He huffed, gesturing to the pointed, floppy hat he'd been forced to buy for 'dress code' to clarify his sentence. Then he handed her back the sharpener, "Thank you, though, I did have my own sharpener," he commented, looking back towards her with a quirked brow. It was hard to tell if there was amusement behind the words.
After a moment of consideration, he continued. "Surprised, though, most students I've met swear by quill," he huffed lightly, gaze still keen, as if the boy was waiting for something he'd have to react quickly to. He held himself tensely, but there was no sign of hostility despite his-- admittedly-- blunt approach to the conversation. Despite the underlying tension, though, he kept his posture laid-back. Arms crossed, he idly tapped his fingers in a rhythm against his robe, the red lining gleaming in the light.
He had no intention of keeping the conversation long or drawn-out, mind you. For one, he had work to do, and secondly-- even this was straining his barely-used social skills. Still, for now, he'd entertain the act of normalcy he was trying to keep up-- for her sake mostly, she looked like she'd flinch if he raised his voice even slightly.
==========
Tags:@Magnolia Laurellion
Encyclopedia Link: Here
STATSReducio
===
Stamina: 5
Evasion: 10
Strength: 3
Wisdom: 5
ArcPower: 2
Accuracy: 10
===
Abilities | Sixth Sense
===
Sour Silence
word count: 738
Almost immediately, she internally facepalmed herself for engaging in social interaction as soon as the boy made eye contact. Why did she do this? Why did she listen to her moms? Magnolia felt her nerves shake as he observed her sharply, as if trying to determine if she was a threat or not. In her mind she shrank a bit, the familiar feeling of being judged and scrutinized once again slithering in her bones in its usual, violating way.
Hey, maybe being lonely wasn't too bad. TJ definitely counted as a whole friend, and she and Ella were bound to meet any day now. She didn't need to complicate her social calendar. She was busy already. With writing a letter every week... and snuggling up with TJ. And... well yeah, that was about it. Haha. But did she really have to shake things up with this new character just because they shared an affinity for non-magical writing utensils?
But before she could recoil and take back her offer, the white-haired boy took her pencil sharpener. He took it! Mags grinned softly to herself, embracing the small social accomplishment. She listened to his thick Russian accent, tilting her head as if the angle would make her understand him better. And in a strange way, it did.
She nodded along as he critiqued the quills, agreeing wholeheartedly. Using them was a little too much, and even though she was completely aware that quills were mostly made up of feathers that were shed, it still made her slightly uncomfortable that the writing utensils that everyone used, passed around, or even showed off in pride were once attached to the living creature, who preened the feather like it was gold. What did wizards find wrong with regular wooden pencils?
And she definitely nodded along with his small comment on hats, agreeing with a small, ”mhmm…” She wasn’t wearing hers at the moment, and for good reason. The hat was a little too big on her, and the number of times it slipped lopsidedly on her head or even fell over her eyes was too much for her to handle. Plus, it messed up her hair. Magnolia wasn’t a vain creature, but even she knew that wearing a hat for too long made her frizz act up. Thus, it was banished to the depths of her bag, slightly crushed by her Charms and History of Magic textbook.
As soon as the boy mentioned that he owned his own sharpener this whole time, her face flushed in embarrassment. “Oh,” escaped her lips quickly, smiling through the warmth in her face as she took back her pencil sharpener. Without hesitation, she began to sharpen her own sparkly, glittery unicorn pencil. She needed something to do with her hands. Of course he had his own sharpener. What good wooden pencil owner didn’t, especially in a school where those wall-mounted pencil sharpeners were practically a myth? She didn’t know if the boy was teasing her with what he said, but her smile transitioned to a small chuckle. Like her moms always say, she has to learn to laugh at herself every once in a while. “Heh, I should have figured… doesn’t hurt to keep 'em sharp, though.”
Taking out her pencil and admiring the point, she shrugged. “I feel like wooden pencils are just easier. Nothing’s wrong with them! And ink is messy, and dries slowly. That’s all good and fine when you’re making art, but not when you’re writing essays that are due tomorrow! Or when you’re left-handed and you lift your hand and see ink all over it…”
She let out an exasperated sigh, clearly a bit less shy now that the dam of conversation opened up. “It’s so… I don’t know the word, but so… so…” Magnolia scrunched her face up and her free hand flailed, her vocabulary lacking and trying hard to search for the correct word in her brain. But of course, she’s freaking eleven. And not that book smart. Hey, not everyone can be a walking dictionary. So instead, she displayed.
Magnolia stuck her nose in the air like some hoity-toity lady, the hand holding her pencil suddenly having its pinky stuck straight out like how a proper lady would hold a tea cup. She spoke in a squeaky, mocking voice. “Look at me, I’m a pure wizard, I’m too magical and too fancy for these Muggle wooden pencils~. I need something more fancy and cool than this, even if it’s harder to use because I’m better~.”
Magnolia chuckled at her own act, dropping the display and speaking right at Sergei, sitting straight up and more comfortable now. “Y’know? That’s what I think. Plus… what’s even the deal with the tech ban here anyway? Not even cameras? A Switch? It’s like, magical folks hate the future, and fun! It ain’t fair…” Despite the irony that she herself was now one of them ‘magical folks’, she still felt so… separate from it. Like she was stuck in a strange in-between. And seeing how the boy she was chatting with also prefered pencils, she figured that was a feeling that he could relate to.
Sour Silence
As he watched her reaction, he felt himself easing slightly, head tilted idly as he listened to her talk. She was certainly better at keeping up conversation than he was. Mind you, it seemed like giving her the first nudge to converse had helped greatly. She had taken to the silent offer like a fish to water, as if a rare opportunity had opened up and she had snatched it with both hands. "Mmm, I use pencil and charcoal for art. Can correct mistakes then, ink for art is high-level stuff I'd say." He added idly.==========
As he watched her stammer slightly as she tried to find the word, he was about to offer one, until she decided to act it out instead. Blinking with slight surprise as he listened to her, all he could think was that she was a thespian in the making, truly. What he didn't expect was a bubble of humour to rise to his expression, a rare moment showing as he actually cracked a faint smile. He pressed a fist to his mouth as it did, enjoying the scene while it lasted. "You are funny girl," he commented lightly, "You are not pure-blood? I am non-magic-born myself, did not expect you to have similar opinions."
Her next complaint made him nod in agreement, "thought it was dumb too so looked into it," he spoke up, idly scratching his jaw, "Apparently they think magic is better, and some stronger magic can make technolagy glitch out." He snorted slightly, crossing his legs, "Of course, I'd say they aren't really right about it being wholly better. After all, technology is more accessible than magic. You also don't need to know any fancy spells just to listen to music, or take picture... though I do think they have magical camera, because the news has pictures, he grumbled, seeming to share the girl's feelings on the subject. "There is probably strong magic here, though, so bringing tech might end up with them glitching out anyway." he shrugged as he said this, gaze keen.
Stretching out slightly, he scratched his chin for a moment. "Do you do art?" His tone was curious, as his silver eyes seemed slightly less icy than before. She was a tad more interesting than he expected. Now he didn't really mind the conversation, which was, admittedly, a tad surprising to him.
==========
Tags: @Magnolia Laurellion
Text Hexcode: a80049
Encyclopedia Link: Here
STATSReducio
===
Stamina: 5
Evasion: 10
Strength: 3
Wisdom: 5
ArcPower: 2
Accuracy: 10
===
Abilities | Sixth Sense
===
Sour Silence
mentions: @Sergei Voronin
word count: 637
Magnolia definitely felt much more comfortable with the boy beside her, the book she intended on finishing that day completely ignored on the table as the two of them spoke. She figured that charcoals were a tad bit similar to pastel crayons, but just monochrome. And if he knew about using charcoals for art, and not just in the context of a certain jolly December holiday, she was sure he was much more artistic than he let on. And Magnolia grew curious... But even she knew that one's sketchbook was sacred property.
But her confidence that one day they would be able to achieve that level of closeness was growing, especially when she noticed that during her theatrics, his lips pulled into a faint smile. Sure, he quickly covered it by pressing a fist to his hand, but seeing how he seemed like a usually stoic character, it was a small victory. Something told her she would have more opportunities to see it more, and a strange feeling pulled somewhere within her. Oh. Oh. ...That will be something that Magnolia unpacks way later down the line.
But anyway, when he mentioned the topic of blood purity, she shook her head. "I'm a half-blood, but I'm adopted. Both of my moms are regular." ...Was regular the right way to put it? Maybe... 'non-magical'? But Maggie let it be; Her struggle with her own magical identity being split between the magical and the "regular" world was ongoing still, and will be for a long time. But her struggle with being adopted by her moms was far over, and at the very least, she was extremely comfortable sharing that with anyone who wondered.
As the boy scratched his jaw and spoke, Magnolia's head again fell into that slight tilt as she listened along. As he mentioned that the adults in power thought that magic was better, her face scrunched up in a way that non-verbally communicated, "Of course they would. They don't know any better." Of course, she grew up non-magically and was completely biased; This conversation was an echo chamber, but she knew that if she tried to explain the wonders of an iPad to someone who had never heard of or even seen one, she'd lose. And as he grumbled about the lack of accessibility magic had, she nodded along. Technology has made all sorts of advancements to cater to differently-abled people, but if you had a stutter or hand tremors, magic would never be as forgiving. "I hope one day, someone smart will figure out how magic and technology could work together..."
When the boy stretched so did she, mirroring him, a social habit she had picked up during the years. She froze in place at his question, almost comically. And almost instantly, her eyes lit up, almost sparkling. "Y-Yeah! I do," she exclaimed, a bit too loud. Before she could give them a moment to breathe, she quickly dug into her satchel, searching. She didn't bring her sketchbook with her that day, but she did have something.
Her hands found what they were looking for: her Transfiguration homework. She pulled it up, looking at it and her 'Exceeds Expectations" grade. At least it wasn't too bad... and with only a moment's hesitation, she tore a corner from it. Hey, it wasn't like she was going to need it anymore anyway...
She put the torn piece of paper onto the table, pushing it towards the boy while grinning lopsidedly.
"I love doodling here and there! My Momma says it's good for your heart." She looked at her art before looking at her inked words on the page. She glanced over at her own name, before realizing with a sharp inhale... she never properly introduced herself. "...Um, I'm Magnolia, by the way. Maggie, for short. What's yours?"
Sour Silence
"Adopted, hm?" He echoed, eyes seeming to grow a tad unfocused for a moment before snapping back to attention "Must be nice. I'm foster kid myself, have been bouncing between households most my life. Though, when my 'magical abilities' first showed the wizards that came to see me put me in long term foster care, should last until... ehh, fifth year? Longest I've stayed in household." He huffed lightly, leaning his cheek on his fist, legs crossed as he gazed at her. "Did not have any magical parents, so wizards suddenly not being fantasy took me while to process. Have to say, I think all this 'blood purity' stuff is bullshit. Wizard is wizard, can use magic? wizard. 'Purity' is pointless. Somehow, muggles seem to have got past that sort of thinking before wizards have. Ironic." As he spoke, he slipped back into his mother tongue, leaving the word he stated indecipherable once more. Though given how harshly he spoke it, it was a fair guess to assume he had said some sort of profanity.==========
He blinked as he realized he had essentially ranted, before snorting slightly and waving his hand about-- as if trying to bat away the words he had said. "Have many thoughts on the subject, too many to say here, yeah? Might as well write ah..." damn, what was the word for it... Well, next best one would work, he supposed, "... Dictionary, to keep them all in." He finished after hesitating for a few moments. Then he moved on to the next topic, chuffing slightly in amusement as she stated 'they wouldn't know any better'.
"You have experience in both worlds, yeah? Seem to feel strongly about the subject, why not one day become the one to figure such things out?" He spoke frankly, shrugging. "You are at, supposedly, one of best magic schools. Once older could take muggle college to learn technology. Sounds more fun than sitting back and waiting for someone else to do it, no?" He quirked an idle brow, expression once more one of carefully crafted neutrality.
As he watched her excited response to his following question, he seemed vaguely amused, though little of it showed on his face. Watching her dig through her things, his eyes wandered to the spines of the various books surrounding them, attention drifting until her heard the slight sound of tearing paper. Glancing down at the doodles, he examined them briefly, though, given their simplicity, he soon lost interest. Instead, he looked back up at her as she continued to speak, the little saying catching his attention better. "Art is good for getting what is in your head out of it, yes. Useful, because sometimes if the thoughts are bitter, less likely to rot away at your mind." He nodded idly, "In that way, makes your heart lighter, I guess. Though, even if you are not pasting your emotion on paper, it keeps the brain sharp, creativity is an exercise." There were a few pauses as he tried to formulate what he was thinking in English for her, though by the end he seemed satisfied with his efforts, nodding shortly.
When she introduced himself, he paused, belatedly being reminded that throughout he conversation he hadn't once introduced himself either. "Ah, right, name is Sergei Voronin. Has been... interesting to meet you."
==========
Notes: Sorry about the long wait </3 got distracted by life. Still loving these two tho!
Tags: @Magnolia Laurellion
Text Hexcode: a80049
Encyclopedia Link: Here
STATSReducio
===
Stamina: 5
Evasion: 10
Strength: 3
Wisdom: 5
ArcPower: 2
Accuracy: 10
===
Abilities | Sixth Sense
===