13 Dec 2019, 21:36
A Gift To Remember
@Elliot Price
Kyle was walking down the hallway with his hands resting in the pockets of his leather jacket. He wanted to do...something, but he wasn't sure what. Chess felt wrong, he couldn't bring him self to go train, the library was an absolute out, and the professors were lucky he showed up at all let alone do any sort of extra credit. Kyle was in a dark place, and where he stood currently he couldn't decide if he should just sink entirely into the darkness or try and struggle towards the light and get out of his funk. It was then that something caught his eye. A flyer for a Secret Santa event. Kyle looked over the flyer, students needed to turn in their name and they would be given a professor(in secret) to aquire and deliver a gift for. Get assigned to a professor...anonymously...and give them a gift. Then he got an idea. An awful idea. Kyle had a wonderful, awful idea. A grin spread across his face as he shoved the flyer in his pocket and he bolted off to sign up for the secret santa event.
A few days later he received his giftee. Professor Elliot Price, the potions professor. The same potions professor that Kyle robbed the class room of during his first year. This was almost too good. Too perfect. Kyle was going to give that dungeon crawler a present that only Kyle could give, one that would never be forgotten. He grabbed a dufflebag from under his bed then went to his trunk and began to grab his supplies and goodies from it to get ready for creating and wrapping his gift. He had been sitting on a number of prank items for a few months now, and the perfect opportunity to use them had finally revealed itself. As Kyle went to leave the common room he stopped and looked towards the communal chess board and he grabbed the black rook from it and pocketed it before leaving.
Kyle Arrived in one of the empty study rooms and he went to desk and started to unpack. First he had the box that was going to hold everything. With a smirk Kyle took out a quill and ink from his bag and began to draw (or attempt to atleast) the crest of each house on the four sides of the box. On the top of the box he wrote I HOPE THIS EVOKES A FESTIVE "REACTION". Kyle chuckled slightly to himself at that. Reaction, as in the way chemicals and ingredients react to each other. some times he was too clever for his own good. Once that was done he set the box aside and he grabbed his dung bombs and lined the bottom of the box with them. After the dung bombs where taken care of he grabbed about 12 confetti poppers. he ripped the tops off all of them and in 6 Kyle put owl down, feathers, and other scraps he found on the floor of the owlery and in the other 6 he filled with ink. once they were all filled with a simple movement of his wand and a simple "Repairo" the poppers were intact once more. He then set about securing the poppers so they were all lined up with the popping end aiming out. The most difficult part of this step was adding the extra string and securing it to the lid of the box so once it was opened the poppers all shot at once, covering the target in ink and owl bits. The final step was rubbing his last dung bomb over the tops of the poppers so when they "Popped" outwards some of the nasty residue dung bombs leave behind would be projected at the target as well. once that was set all that remained was the calling card. He took the black rook rook piece and some glue, and avoiding the strings, glued it to the inside of the top of the box to make sure it could be seen after it was opened. He doubted the professor would understand the calling card, but that part was for Kyle.
Confident in how the prank box was set up Kyle very cautiously and carefully closed it up, making sure all the strings were secure before finally closing the box so its message could be seen. Then came the wrapping. He chose emerald wrapping paper with a silver bow in an attempt to throw the professor off his tail if they tried to figure out who it was who delivered the gift. With a satisfied smile Kyle wiped his hands off and put everything left over back into his dufflebag and zipped it up before grabbing the present and heading to the owlry. This was going to be exciting.
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It was breakfast in the great hall. The time where most people were just waking up, half asleep, or just sort of in a stupor until the effects of sleep wore off. Not Kyle though, he was too excited to be tired. This morning at breakfast the package he put together was going to be delivered by one of the school owls to Professor price as he sat at the head table with the rest of the staff. Kyle chose breakfast over dinner for two reasons. One, with a start like this his entire day would be ruined and that was so much more satisfying than ruining the end of someones day. Two, This early in the morning he was sure to be tired himself and not fully alert which would make them less likely to figure out who sent the gift. If nothing else, for a few hours.
Kyle stuffed a big bite of pancakes in his mouth, his right leg bounced with excess energy, his eyes were alight and he kept checking the time. Soon it would time for morning mail. Soon the gift would be delivered. Secret Santa was the best thing ever!
“I live my life free of compromise, and step into the shadows without complaint or regret.“
Stamina: 10 Evasion: 4 Strength: 15 Wisdom: 2 ArcPower: 5 Accuracy: 4
16 Dec 2019, 04:39
A Gift To Remember
Elliot entered the Great Hall and made his way towards the staff table. He always preferred eating breakfast here much more so than attending at dinner time. At this hour the hall was mostly quiet, only the low hum of soft conversations and the occasional scrape of wood against stone as people shuffled in and out of their seating. A far cry quieter than the racket of dinner time. The students were always so loud during their evening meal. The classes were done, they were free for the rest of the day. All that pent up energy seemed to burst forth as they reveled in their freedom.
Elliot took a seat at the table in front of the hall. To his immense delight, the mug before him magically filled with steaming coffee and the plate that sat between his hands filled with eggs, sausage, and a nice slice of buttered toast. Ah, they house elves knew him too well. After a long pull on his coffee mug, Elliot reached into his robes and withdrew a copy of the Daily Prophet. As per his custom, he would flick through the pages to the Quidditch section. The news, politics and opinions could be saved for later. Now, in this moment of quiet, it was time to catch up on his favorite sport.
Just as he found the page he was looking for, the windows of the hall burst open. The wind rushed in and with it the flapping of bird’s wings. It was time for the daily mail. Elliot paid it little attention. He wasn’t expecting any that day. However, much to his surprise, a package plopped down on the newspaper before him.
Without taking his eyes off of it, he ripped a piece of sausage off his plate and held it out to the bird. It took its payment and fluttered off. Now who in the world would have sent him a package? One wrapped not so neatly in green paper, topped with a silver bow? His friends and family surely knew he was a proud Hufflepuff graduate. Perhaps the bird had made a mistake. Elliot searched it to see if it was addressed to anyone, but there was no label. As he shoved a fork full of eggs into his mouth, his free hand untied the bow and ripped the paper aside.
Elliot squinted in curiosity as he looked at the box. Some arts and crafts project? He recognized the crests of the Hogwarts house’s crudely drawn on the sides as he examined it. Poor bugger. Could use a lesson or two. What really caught his interest was what was written on top. In red ink the words read, “I HOPE THIS EVOKES A FESTIVE REACTION.” How odd. Elliot didn’t know what to make of it. As his fork stabbed into the remaining sausage, he crammed it into his mouth as he undid the latch.
The next moment would be chaos. With a loud bang, Elliot would be blasted with a terrible mix of ink, birds feathers and what could only be shit. The smell was horrendous as the man stood in his chair, the gifts dripping off his face. However, this would not be what caused the older mans face to contort in panic. As he stood, his hands would reach upwards, grasping at his throat. The sausage he had stuffed into his mouth was now very much lodged in his throat.
Elliot coughed and sputtered as he fumbled for his wand. With a shaky hand he would point it at himself. “Anannnap!” He wheezed as he attempted to cast the airway clearing spell, but he could not pronounce the incantation correctly. In a wild panic, he threw off his glasses. His eyes were bulged and clearly outlined where the lenses had blocked the inky poo. If it were possible to see the flesh of his face, one might notice it was turning a dark red. It would only be minutes before the red began to turn blue.
Elliot took a seat at the table in front of the hall. To his immense delight, the mug before him magically filled with steaming coffee and the plate that sat between his hands filled with eggs, sausage, and a nice slice of buttered toast. Ah, they house elves knew him too well. After a long pull on his coffee mug, Elliot reached into his robes and withdrew a copy of the Daily Prophet. As per his custom, he would flick through the pages to the Quidditch section. The news, politics and opinions could be saved for later. Now, in this moment of quiet, it was time to catch up on his favorite sport.
Just as he found the page he was looking for, the windows of the hall burst open. The wind rushed in and with it the flapping of bird’s wings. It was time for the daily mail. Elliot paid it little attention. He wasn’t expecting any that day. However, much to his surprise, a package plopped down on the newspaper before him.
Without taking his eyes off of it, he ripped a piece of sausage off his plate and held it out to the bird. It took its payment and fluttered off. Now who in the world would have sent him a package? One wrapped not so neatly in green paper, topped with a silver bow? His friends and family surely knew he was a proud Hufflepuff graduate. Perhaps the bird had made a mistake. Elliot searched it to see if it was addressed to anyone, but there was no label. As he shoved a fork full of eggs into his mouth, his free hand untied the bow and ripped the paper aside.
Elliot squinted in curiosity as he looked at the box. Some arts and crafts project? He recognized the crests of the Hogwarts house’s crudely drawn on the sides as he examined it. Poor bugger. Could use a lesson or two. What really caught his interest was what was written on top. In red ink the words read, “I HOPE THIS EVOKES A FESTIVE REACTION.” How odd. Elliot didn’t know what to make of it. As his fork stabbed into the remaining sausage, he crammed it into his mouth as he undid the latch.
The next moment would be chaos. With a loud bang, Elliot would be blasted with a terrible mix of ink, birds feathers and what could only be shit. The smell was horrendous as the man stood in his chair, the gifts dripping off his face. However, this would not be what caused the older mans face to contort in panic. As he stood, his hands would reach upwards, grasping at his throat. The sausage he had stuffed into his mouth was now very much lodged in his throat.
Elliot coughed and sputtered as he fumbled for his wand. With a shaky hand he would point it at himself. “Anannnap!” He wheezed as he attempted to cast the airway clearing spell, but he could not pronounce the incantation correctly. In a wild panic, he threw off his glasses. His eyes were bulged and clearly outlined where the lenses had blocked the inky poo. If it were possible to see the flesh of his face, one might notice it was turning a dark red. It would only be minutes before the red began to turn blue.