If I Had Connections to Home- It Might Be Here
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
Stats: sta 7 ⊹ eva 9 ⊹ str 7 ⊹ wis 9 ⊹ arc 8 ⊹ acc 7 | Date: 01/05/25 | Time: Silver Sunset| CC:#2E8B57
────────────────────────────────The iced chill of the silver lake stood out to most that could see it as they watched the sun set from the sky over the Highlands where the castle nestled itself. It was blustry as the winds of the January air set in for the night and began to usher in the breath of the New Year into the Hogwarts landscape. With the New Year, there was hope that there would only be scenarios that envoked a feeling of up and up, rather than the stress that had befallen so many in the last calendar cycle.
Siobhan felt no differently.
Her winter break had been delightful in it's entirety of that she could be entirely certain. Along with the rest of the school, she had been invited to explore the mystical island of Divination for an event which had greatly fed her mind and soul as she was extended an opportunity to look into the lives of other witches and wizards based on their educational environment. The Grand Seer, Lawrence Maynard, had been quite the interesting individual to encounter but he had been so welcoming to everyone who had ventured out to the shores of Tenūsa and into the jungle where the Omah Geni village resided. From everything described to her by her friends, it had been quite the magical journey.
Adjusting back to the fridgid arid air of the Highlands had been a shock to her nervous system as Siobhan sat in the Boathouse quietly dictating to her Quick Quotes Quill as she relayed all the information she had gathered over the Holiday Break and the time of the event. She'd been far too excited and overwhelmed with activity to maintain a full letter cycle to her famuly as she normally did whenever she needed to send them letters. Having this quill, gifted too her from one of her best friends Matthew Campbell, had greatly improved the way that she was able to write with both efficiency and speed.
The Boathouse offered solitude from the hectic overstimulation that everyone in the castle had as they settled back into the routine of boarding school and preparing for classes to begin in the next couple days. Siobhan was overwhelmed by the loud and needed a break. The Boathouse had offered her some solace as seldom few students ever populated the area and even in the chilly January air, it was still warm enough that Siobhan could bundle up with a blanket and relax for a few minutes or perhaps a few hours before she needed to go back to the Gryffindor common room.
Siobhan had holed up with one of the quilts that her mother had sent her for Yule and she dictated the events of the Gryffindor Adventure that her classmates and her had gone on when her quill stilled and stopped. Siobhan's words stilled just as equal in leverage to the wa the quill paused in the air. She looked toward where the sound of the quill had been writing and reached up for the paper.
"Have I run out of paper? Keck." Siobhan huffed as she gathered the papers from the air and ran her hand over the pages as though she could feel where the ink started and where the words ended. Hopefully the words hadn't trailed off in a half formed thought but she wasn't sure. Maybe Alphonse could look it over for her if she could find him... She hadn't seen him, as in the real him- not whatever facade he was pretending to put on.
Siobhan would admit that maybe she hadn't been paying the closest of attention to her friend. Something had happened but Alphonse had changed. Days had their moments, occassionally he was his normal self, some days he was someone she knew nothing about. Wildly, it felt like being blinded all over whenever she had no idea which variation of him she would meet. Siobhan could not change the past but she could try to right her wrongs.
With the letter to her family tucked safely in her coat pocket, she bundled herself down farther in the boat as she thought about the beginning of the semester and her resolutions for the new year.
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| Manx Translations: Keck- Crap | 𝑴𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈: @Charlotte Winfield|
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
sta 6 | eva 8| str 7| STATS | wis 7 | arc 5 | acc 7|
I know you, I walked with you once upon a dream- Sleeping Beauty
If I Had Connections to Home- It Might Be Here
|  |
| xxx | Lottie was brooding. Well, she was mostly thinking. Thinking and brooding often ran in the same vein, although on could think and not brood, but not brood without thinking. So, she was thinking and brooding. She had been doing that a lot lately, and she knew exactly why. Most people did. It had been just before dawn when Lottie had been shaken awake by her sister, Anadil. In a flurry of fresh disbelief and with the older girl's notorious tendency towards apathy when it came to other's emotions, she had dropped the news that Fabian Winfield had been arrested just a few hours prior, and was awaiting trial for performing dark magic. Her sister had rushed out after that to speak in hushed tones with Louis, and Lottie had stayed in that empty room all morning, just staring out the window and watching as the gray December light slowly illuminated the white chimney's scattered throughout the city. Anadil wasn't very good at feelings. She didn't understand them the same way most people did. When a difficult situation posed itself, her knee-jerk reaction was usually just to run away. She had done it before her seventh year, and she did it again right after speaking with Louis. When Lottie had emerged from her brother's guest room later that morning, she was informed that Anadil had started some pointless argument with Louis and then left. Louis didn't seem too irked about it, but Lottie could tell it was a front. She wasn't good at being alone, and yet she seemed quite prone to it. Lonesomeness was when her mind worked, when her thoughts filled to their highest capacity and threatened to flood out through her eyes. She had been alone quite often since returning from Bristol. She was alone on the train ride back home, alone in her dorm for a great many hours before classes started back up, and now here she was, alone again, tucked into a dark corner of the boathouse. Once upon a time, she would have used this free time to study. Perhaps haul out a couple of her books and spent hours reading them over while chewing on licorice wands or twirling her hair between her finger. Today, though, she did no bring anything with her but a single piece of parchment and a quill. She had wandered out to the boathouse mostly by mistake, and upon finding it empty, she'd simply sat down with her knees drawn to her chest and stared at the murky water. Louis had delegated the responsibility of informing Francis to Lottie quite quickly. He had said something about their shared history, which Lottie had found quite strange, as they all technically had a shared history on account of all coming from the same womb. She hadn't felt like arguing, though, so she took the responsibility and promptly shoved it to the side. Her plan had been to find Francis sometime when she got back and give him the same spiel Anadil had given her. That had proven to be quite difficult, however, as each time Lottie got close to telling him, she found herself struck with a white-hot fear so visceral it left her shaking. So, the next best thing was a letter. She would drop it off with one of his dormmates or slip it into his bag when he wasn't looking, and then he would be free to react as he pleased. Under the gray light of a late-winter day, Lottie stared at the piece of parchment on the slightly damp ground in front of her and begged the words to come to her. Lottie had been so concentrated on the letter, that she had hardly noticed when the other girl entered. She had begun scrawling out words on the paper, hesitantly piecing together a half-baked letter, and had continued working away at it for a solid chunk of time before a quiet voice from one of the boats startled her out of her mind. It was subtle, soft enough that it nearly got snatched away by the slight breeze pouring in. But Lottie froze up, a slight streak of baseless fear creeping its way down her spine and forcing her to stand up slowly. She didn't know what compelled her to approach the boat. Perhaps terror, perhaps curiosity, perhaps a simple hope that maybe she wasn't all alone in her musings. She clutched the parchment to her chest, knuckles turning white where they gripped the paper. In a voice that sounded unfamiliar to her ears, she asked, "Is someone there?" | xxx |
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If I Had Connections to Home- It Might Be Here |  |
| ✦"You better start walking. Love takes miles."✦ STA 8 │ EVA 8 │ STR 6 │ WIS 6 │ ARC 6 │ ACC 7 |
If I Had Connections to Home- It Might Be Here
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
Stats: sta 7 ⊹ eva 9 ⊹ str 7 ⊹ wis 9 ⊹ arc 8 ⊹ acc 7 | Date: 01/05/25 | Time: Silver Sunset| CC:#2E8B57
────────────────────────────────Siobhan looked over her shoulder at the noisy voice that had spoken out and disturbed the quiet sanctuary of her hiding spot in the boathouse. She tucked the blanket around her a little tighter as she sat up and blew warm air into her hands. The voice sounded new to her. She was fairly certain she had never heard the person before so she approached a conversation with caution over instant camraderie. It had not boded well for her the last few times that she had instantly struck up conversation with another peer as though they were a passing friend.
Siobhan didn't often feel sheepish- but the oversized wooly quilt around her and the manner in which this student had inadevertently or otherwise cornered her. It wasn't often that she was unsure of others when they were new to her, but this area in the castle was so very lonely and she at the moment was very alone.
Not that whoever it was would say something unkind or make a remark towards her about her blindness. Given their inquiry about whether someone, her you know- Siobhan, was there in the boathouse- she suspected that they also did not know who she was either and that they did not know about her blindness. So they likely wouldn't say anything whenever she stopped thinking and started speaking.
Siobhan pulled the quilt around her more and swallowed the logical part of her thoughts to gently vocalise that she was there.
"I apologize, I was only using this boat to write in. My common room is far too loud. My quill writes as it hears and too many voices will confuse it." Siobhan spoke in a voice that was far too hesitant to really be her own. She wondered if she had even been the one to speak because that did not sound like her as of late. This whole school year had been showing her the stressors and trials that this current conversation was not testing her with.
So what was causing her worry in her inflections?
Siobhan sat back up enough to maintain some semblance of good posture. It wouldn't do well to look like a ragamuffin in front of others. Especially someone so quiet as herself at the moment. The silence that accompanied them at the moment was likely better for if she hadn't spoken but the quiet had been disturbed and it was for the better.
"Are you cold? I brought an extra blanket. It's wool from my sheep at home so I prommise it is very warm." Siobhan asks as she gently releases her own blanket to offer up the other one that had been drapped over her feet. Her toes curled inside of her boots as she felt the cold cold air attack her lower legs but she remained in offer to the other person.
"These boats are not a terrible place to think when you are in need of a place too." Siobhan finished up as she gestured with her head to the surroundings around her and the mystery person. "My name is Siobhan... she finished with a polite smile.
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| Manx Translations: | 𝑴𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈: @Charlotte Winfield|
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
sta 6 | eva 8| str 7| STATS | wis 7 | arc 5 | acc 7|
I know you, I walked with you once upon a dream- Sleeping Beauty
If I Had Connections to Home- It Might Be Here
| |
| xxx | Lottie would not admit to startling when the other girl's voice broke through the eerie quiet, but it was a near thing. It was hard to determine whether the quiver in her stance could be attributed to the cold or fear. Occurring to her quite suddenly was the reminder that ghosts and ghouls of all kinds notoriously roamed the halls of Hogwarts, and that only worked to deepen her anxiety. This had been the way of things after her return. Her senses were heightened, annoyingly so, and not in the way she would have liked, either. She was not more aware or comprehending, but rather more cautious. Small feelings would settle in her gut and fester, until they got just near enough to eat her alive, then disappear, leaving her with the blank numbness of complete absence. Feeling, followed by apathy, followed by feeling. A clinging, monotonous cycle she just couldn't shake. "It's alright," Lottie replied softly, too quick and too frail. She cleared her throat, the parchment in her arms crinkling softly. Perhaps before the break, she would have had some quick, eloquent statement to spew off, then quickly leave with both her dignity and her sense. But words hard become so hard lately. Silence, too, although that was much harder to ignore. Curling her hands around her arms, Lottie watched quietly as the other girl rose higher into view. Her ghost theory was quickly diminished as the tint of skin flushed with light rosacea appeared as well, suggesting a healthy flow of blood. That was perhaps more frightening. Lottie was not in the right state of mind to be adequately social, or at least to leave a solid impression. Her family's reputation was already crumbling enough as is, and the wrong ears catching the wrong words was enough to turn it to dust. She swallowed thickly. "I'm not cold," Lottie lied, shaking her head adamantly. After a brief pause, she quietly added, "Thank you." Despite her denial, the icy breeze that passed through the boathouse sent violent shivers down her spine. A sigh brushed past her lips, equal parts frustration and defeat. Though the promise of a warm blanket felt almost dreamlike. But her stubbornness was stronger than her impulse. "Lottie. Or Charlotte, I guess," Lottie replied, considering holding her hand out for a handshake but quickly deciding against it. She glanced around the hollow boathouse with a complicated expression. "It's not exactly the prettiest of sights. Quiet, though." There was an undefinable sort of discomfort that came from their quiet, friendly chatter. Once upon a time, Lottie could tolerate the kindness she saw as falsehood, pretenses selfishly displayed for the reward of reputation points. Although Siobhan didn't seem deceitful. Nonetheless, the saccharine sweet elegance of her tone and composure made Lottie jumpy. With a sharp inhale, the Slytherin girl took an abrupt step backwards. "Well... I was just leaving, so-" | xxx |
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If I Had Connections to Home- It Might Be Here | |
| ✦"You better start walking. Love takes miles."✦ STA 8 │ EVA 8 │ STR 6 │ WIS 6 │ ARC 6 │ ACC 7 |