18 Nov 2019, 09:21
The Witching Hour
November 20th, 2019.For a Wednesday morning, the study room is relatively full and quiet, students with their faces deep in their books, hidden behind them, once the door opens rather abruptly, the Slytherin first year walking inside, not caring by the dirty glares he receives. Most students raise their eyes, while others seem too busy with doing their homework to care. With a simple eye-roll, making his way towards the bulletin board in the corner, he runs his hand through his hair.
All of those years feeling like his choices never mattered, the shadow of his father’s disappointment trying to suffocate the yearning inside of him, the worry and slight anxiety, it’s all finally over now. Roman’s made a decision, one that he’s very proud of. Creating a band has always been a dream of his, and it’s about time it came true. With a small smile on his face, the boy takes a good look at the paper he’s holding.
The Witching Hour, Roman reads once he glues the paper to the bulletin board, in front of some old parchments nobody cares about. It's got quite a nice ring to it, in his opinion. He came up with the name back when he was ten and was writing meaningless song lyrics in one of his father's old journals.♬ THE WITCHING HOUR ♬
— 03:00 AM —
Do you play an instrument? Can you actually sing? If so, this is your chance to join the most amazing band the wizarding world will ever see: The Witching Hour. We're currently looking for a drummer, a main and lead vocalist, a bassist, and a second guitarist! (No, you can't play the flute or the triangle, we're cooler than that! The piano is fine, I guess.)
Interested? AUDITIONS will be held in the Rehearsal Room, open to anyone from all years and houses, by the end of this week. [Read here: x., for more information.]
With his hands on his waist, he takes a step back, giving the paper an even better look. Roman smiles to himself, that rare and genuine smile that only seemed to happen once a year, with a twinkle in his dark, often bored and dead eyes. Now, all he had to do was wait, mention his band here and there, to get people more curious, then, he'd find the people he's looking for and from there, well, he doesn't know, but how hard can it be, right?
Last edited by Roman Kingston on 10 Dec 2019, 12:16, edited 1 time in total.
R. H. Kingston
18 Nov 2019, 13:41
The Witching Hour
Halston entered the study room, hugging her books to her chest. She stared at the ground as she maneuvered around the backpacks, pushed out chairs, and crowded tables, making her way to the closest available seat. She noticed everyone but wanted to be unnoticed, so she didn't look at anyone in the eye.
Once she found a seat she slid into it, her robes floating behind her. Halston loved her robes, there was a sense of security in them. If only she had the Invisibility Cloak would her life be perfect, then she could disappear whenever she pleased
At the moment she couldn't think about disappearing, she had to focus on her schoolwork. Passing her classes with O's would at least make her father raise an eyebrow or two, and that was enough. Of course she sent her mother all of her marks, but it was different when the person wouldn't or couldn't answer. To Halston it was the thought that counted.
Halston flips open her book, which happens to be about Defense Against the Dark Arts , and silently scans the passages. She had already taken notes on this section but she had been to learn by repetition, and she wasn't going to forget that technique anytime soon.
Biting her lip, Halston glanced at the students on both sides of her before ducking her head, letting her hair fall over to mask her face. It was her natural veil, so no one could see her face, because she doubted that anyone wanted to.
After studying for a good amount of time, she decided to look up. Halston scanned the room, just to see if anything had changed since her studying. She noticed a boy glueing a poster to the bulletin board. Halston stares, wondering what it was about.
She would wait until he left to see, in case he decided to question or talk to her, two things she definitely didn't want to happen. He looked a little bit too cocky for someone like Halston.
When he did leave, she quietly got up, to disturb the students, and went over to the board. Halston read the poster. Then she read it again, this time with her eyes wide as saucers.
A new band? A real one? Halston had heard of bands around the school before but this one sounded like the type that she had always dreamed of joining but knew she would be to weird to be accepted into. But that was back before she had come to Hogwarts. Her goal was to become different here, even though she was entirely too stubborn to go from painfully shy to incredibly lively in just a few months, or even a year.
But deep down there was an ache in Halston's chest. She really wanted to try this out...
And I will, Halston thought to herself, clenching her fists.
Once she found a seat she slid into it, her robes floating behind her. Halston loved her robes, there was a sense of security in them. If only she had the Invisibility Cloak would her life be perfect, then she could disappear whenever she pleased
At the moment she couldn't think about disappearing, she had to focus on her schoolwork. Passing her classes with O's would at least make her father raise an eyebrow or two, and that was enough. Of course she sent her mother all of her marks, but it was different when the person wouldn't or couldn't answer. To Halston it was the thought that counted.
Halston flips open her book, which happens to be about Defense Against the Dark Arts , and silently scans the passages. She had already taken notes on this section but she had been to learn by repetition, and she wasn't going to forget that technique anytime soon.
Biting her lip, Halston glanced at the students on both sides of her before ducking her head, letting her hair fall over to mask her face. It was her natural veil, so no one could see her face, because she doubted that anyone wanted to.
After studying for a good amount of time, she decided to look up. Halston scanned the room, just to see if anything had changed since her studying. She noticed a boy glueing a poster to the bulletin board. Halston stares, wondering what it was about.
She would wait until he left to see, in case he decided to question or talk to her, two things she definitely didn't want to happen. He looked a little bit too cocky for someone like Halston.
When he did leave, she quietly got up, to disturb the students, and went over to the board. Halston read the poster. Then she read it again, this time with her eyes wide as saucers.
A new band? A real one? Halston had heard of bands around the school before but this one sounded like the type that she had always dreamed of joining but knew she would be to weird to be accepted into. But that was back before she had come to Hogwarts. Her goal was to become different here, even though she was entirely too stubborn to go from painfully shy to incredibly lively in just a few months, or even a year.
But deep down there was an ache in Halston's chest. She really wanted to try this out...
And I will, Halston thought to herself, clenching her fists.
Last edited by Halston Wright on 18 Nov 2019, 14:38, edited 1 time in total.
Nefelibata
18 Nov 2019, 14:09
The Witching Hour
Interacting with @Roman Kingston
Letting himself slide against the chair, Virgil sighs, finally over with his Astronomy assignment. It wasn't that hard, come to think of it, if only he had been paying attention during class and not dozing off, writing meaningless lyrics, with no correlation whatsoever on his parchment. He's been doing this often, now that he thinks about it. Since he started thinking about winter break and learning to play the piano, his creativity has been all over the place.
Anxiety, concludes Virgil, nodding to himself, letting his eyes travel around the study room. He notices a boy, a Slytherin just such as himself, putting a new poster to the bulletin board. The boy's rather tall, and looks a little arrogant and cold, with that expressionless face. Peering around, he waits for the boy to leave, and after a while, pretending to still be focused on his textbook, Virgil makes his way towards the bulletin board.
The Witching Hour, says the big letter in the poster, making Virgil continue to read, interested. That boy is forming a band, Virgil thinks, surprised and excited. Out of all the things he's heard about the school, never once someone mentioned bands. He reads about the auditions and frowns to himself. Mihyung, Blair, and Trent say he's a good singer, but Virgil's never been confident in his skills, whatever the skills in question are.
But... He could always try, right? What if you fail?! His anxiety asks thinking, finding the idea outrageous. Oh well, if he failed, then it's a great thing he's good at pretending things never happened.
V. G. L. Armitage
ST: 5_E: 7_S: 5_W: 7_AP: 5_A: 6
2 Dec 2019, 16:06
The Witching Hour
Her eyes scanned along the book, and it's old, yellow pages. She loved Astronomy, but quite frankly now it was getting past boring. The redhead had never run faster than when they were dismissed from class, it was too exciting.
Saoirse walked along the halls, the musty, dark, old halls. There was nothing to do, nothing at all, she was bored. She could call on one of her friends but she was looking for a thrill this time, a real thrill, something exciting, something she could be herself in. The bulletin board was something that popped in her head, fun stuff goes on the bulletin board, she began racing down the halls, the fact she was out of breath didn't bother her at this moment in time. She couldn't wait to see what was there, after the postponed meetings for the other club. It would be nice to find something with a bunch of other people, a fresh feeling too.
As she turned the corner she saw a boy leaving, he had obviously just put something up. She rushed down towards the bulletin board nearly bashing into it, she stammered, backing up and looked up at the board. She could tell what had just been put up and it got her attention, she had found the thrill she wanted.
Honorable Mentions: @Roman Kingston
Saoirse walked along the halls, the musty, dark, old halls. There was nothing to do, nothing at all, she was bored. She could call on one of her friends but she was looking for a thrill this time, a real thrill, something exciting, something she could be herself in. The bulletin board was something that popped in her head, fun stuff goes on the bulletin board, she began racing down the halls, the fact she was out of breath didn't bother her at this moment in time. She couldn't wait to see what was there, after the postponed meetings for the other club. It would be nice to find something with a bunch of other people, a fresh feeling too.
As she turned the corner she saw a boy leaving, he had obviously just put something up. She rushed down towards the bulletin board nearly bashing into it, she stammered, backing up and looked up at the board. She could tell what had just been put up and it got her attention, she had found the thrill she wanted.
The Witching Hour
Honorable Mentions: @Roman Kingston
Last edited by Saoirse Dwight on 3 Dec 2019, 13:06, edited 1 time in total.
Ever felt like your being watched, like everyday you're passing by the billboard that Dr. Eckleburg's Eyes rest upon.
3 Dec 2019, 05:10
The Witching Hour
For @Roman Kingston
Rafa’s study day had been going pretty wrong, right off the bat.
Mainly because of his self-diagnosed ADD. It was the funniest thing, because he would get so carried away in his thoughts that all idea of study and grades would be gone in the blink of an eye. Rafa really hated that feature about himself, how he couldn’t focus. It was what let to too many fights and bad blood between him and others. That, and his generally brash, impulsive personality. He had never been able to put the flames away. Which set people on fire – a generally dangerous trait that most people tended to keep their distance from.
Right now, the flames were licking away at his attention span. He had been studying his Charms – well, trying, anyway. His current lesson was that regarding the Wingardium Leviosa Spell. He had found this particularly tricky, given that his IQ was not as large as he hoped, and as stated previously, his attention was nearly unable to harness. He sighed in aggravation, rubbing his eyes. It was getting on his nerves, the noise. The study room seems to be filling up a bit, he noted absently. It wasn’t that people bothered him – quite the opposite, actually. They made for the perfect distraction. He huffed, abruptly picked up his belongings, ready to leave the ever-growing multitude.
On his way out, he slowed down beside the bulletin board. It had always been inviting – he made a tradition of admiring all the applications and interesting little notices plastered on its cork walls. Rafa took sight of a poster he had put up not too long ago, regarding a boy’s study club. A smile found its way to his face – good memories were flooding back. Though, not wanting to get carried away, he continued to scan the bulletin. His eyes caught a particularly interesting poster.
He plucked it right off the wall for a moment, bringing it close to his nose. It definitely looked interesting – it was a band application sheet, calling upon band members for the Witching Hour. Whatever that was. Name’s cool, he noted with a bit of a smirk. Rafa scanned the page with growing interest. The idea of joining a band had always given him a warm sort of feeling. He believed that his singing voice wasn’t too shoddy, and he played rather brilliantly on the piano – he had for three years, actually.
Though, music was one of the only things in his life that he was more reluctant to share with others – a lot of kids from his home country would have laughed at the thought of old ‘Bird singing and playing, he was sure. Just the idea of going up in front of a random person and sharing his talents seemed rather intimidating. And he considered himself one of the braver Gryffindors, always throwing fists first and thinking later.
He steeled himself mentally, looking over the paper again. Now, Rafa knew this cycle well. He had seen it. He would think about it. He would lose sleep over it. He would dream about it. He would write about it. (He wasn’t the most imaginative boy, he was ashamed to admit. His writing generally ended up sad and dejected, like a malnourished puppy.) He would carry it like a burden for the next few days. He would eventually make himself do it. Rafa sighed, sticking the paper back to the wall. No, he wouldn’t make himself suffer with that old cycle.
Well, he reasoned, I’m never going to get anywhere unless I leave my comfort zone, I suppose.
Rafa’s study day had been going pretty wrong, right off the bat.
Mainly because of his self-diagnosed ADD. It was the funniest thing, because he would get so carried away in his thoughts that all idea of study and grades would be gone in the blink of an eye. Rafa really hated that feature about himself, how he couldn’t focus. It was what let to too many fights and bad blood between him and others. That, and his generally brash, impulsive personality. He had never been able to put the flames away. Which set people on fire – a generally dangerous trait that most people tended to keep their distance from.
Right now, the flames were licking away at his attention span. He had been studying his Charms – well, trying, anyway. His current lesson was that regarding the Wingardium Leviosa Spell. He had found this particularly tricky, given that his IQ was not as large as he hoped, and as stated previously, his attention was nearly unable to harness. He sighed in aggravation, rubbing his eyes. It was getting on his nerves, the noise. The study room seems to be filling up a bit, he noted absently. It wasn’t that people bothered him – quite the opposite, actually. They made for the perfect distraction. He huffed, abruptly picked up his belongings, ready to leave the ever-growing multitude.
On his way out, he slowed down beside the bulletin board. It had always been inviting – he made a tradition of admiring all the applications and interesting little notices plastered on its cork walls. Rafa took sight of a poster he had put up not too long ago, regarding a boy’s study club. A smile found its way to his face – good memories were flooding back. Though, not wanting to get carried away, he continued to scan the bulletin. His eyes caught a particularly interesting poster.
He plucked it right off the wall for a moment, bringing it close to his nose. It definitely looked interesting – it was a band application sheet, calling upon band members for the Witching Hour. Whatever that was. Name’s cool, he noted with a bit of a smirk. Rafa scanned the page with growing interest. The idea of joining a band had always given him a warm sort of feeling. He believed that his singing voice wasn’t too shoddy, and he played rather brilliantly on the piano – he had for three years, actually.
Though, music was one of the only things in his life that he was more reluctant to share with others – a lot of kids from his home country would have laughed at the thought of old ‘Bird singing and playing, he was sure. Just the idea of going up in front of a random person and sharing his talents seemed rather intimidating. And he considered himself one of the braver Gryffindors, always throwing fists first and thinking later.
He steeled himself mentally, looking over the paper again. Now, Rafa knew this cycle well. He had seen it. He would think about it. He would lose sleep over it. He would dream about it. He would write about it. (He wasn’t the most imaginative boy, he was ashamed to admit. His writing generally ended up sad and dejected, like a malnourished puppy.) He would carry it like a burden for the next few days. He would eventually make himself do it. Rafa sighed, sticking the paper back to the wall. No, he wouldn’t make himself suffer with that old cycle.
Well, he reasoned, I’m never going to get anywhere unless I leave my comfort zone, I suppose.
I probably haven't collected my allowance yet.