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Post by servalstrike on Oct 17, 2017 12:24:22 GMT -5
Jasadja cased her laugh into the confines of a tight smile, afraid that if she started now she wouldn’t be able to stop herself. Lots of people had the same reaction when they first saw Pickles. He truly was something else. More tiger than housecat. “He’s three feet,” Jasadja pointed out as if the comment was nothing more than an opinion on the weather. Pickles was a fairly good cat most of the time, true that he could be cranky and was the enemy to baths and that he had a penchant for jumping on the counters for an extra bit of food when he could and there was that one time he threw up on her bed at three in the morning. However, despite the few faults that was Pickles she loved him nonetheless.
The subject of Pickles the cat appeared to disappear as soon as Jasadja began an impromptu lesson in the art of origami. Showcasing the little bird in the palm of her hand she held it out to Jane. “I know it looks difficult, but you’ll get the hang of it the more you do it. I can only do it so well because of how much I practice.” Practice did make perfect, but Jasadja wasn’t against a little praise now and then.
“The real tricks lies in getting them to move,” she said the words like they were a magic spell all their own. Reaching into her cloak she revealed her wand. A sleek birch wood wand a little less than the length of her forearm. Jasajda straightened her posture and schooled her expression into something cooler as she eyed the little bird of paper.
As she opened the mouth to speak the world jolted to a halt beneath her. The sudden lurch sent her bird tumbling to the floor. The train whined and groaned against the train tracks. Than a gloom fell over their compartment. For a moment Jasadja wondered if clouds had passed over the sun, but the darkness that loomed was too eerie for something so mundane. Black clouds swept through the sky like an incoming tide, hurtling to blanket the world in shadow.
Frost spiked the windows, cracking and crawling over the glass in a lacework of ice until the world outside was blurred and unreadable. Jasadja’s throat tightened, her grip unconsciously tightening on her wand as she leaned forward and breathed onto the window. In some futile effort to drive back the frost and catch a glimpse of what was happening outside. Her breath puffed out in a cloud before her nose coiling into the chilled air.
Her brown skin crowded with goosebumps that she told herself was because of the cold. “Perhaps we’ve entered a tunnel?” Jasadja tried to reason, but even as the words left her she knew they were as useless as trying to heat up the window.
The lights shuddered with dying light and then were extinguished. Jasadja stood up. She didn’t know why. Some terrible instinct drove her towards the door but she didn’t yet make a move to open it. Jasadja just needed to be between it and Jane.
A shriek echoed through the train. Every fiber of Jasadja tensed at the sound. She needed to think, what was going on?
Then she remembered something small. Dementors.
The word set off a spark in her mind and she tried not to let her eyes widen at the realization. But the dementors shouldn’t be here. This wasn’t Azkaban, it was the Hogwarts express taking children to Hogwarts. There were no criminals here.
Jasadja’s hand began to shake, again she told herself it was because of the cold, she managed to keep her hand steady as she reached for the compartment door. No. Bad idea. If there were dementors here then they should leave them alone, there was no need to open the door and possibly invite them in.
A shudder skittered through her and she pushed away the thought of the creatures that lurked outside. Even as she felt her muscles lock themselves in place in an effort to keep her from doing something stupid, she had her hand on the door. It groaned at the effort of being opened. She cast no spell for light as she peered out into the darkened aisle. Only moments ago it had been filled with excitement and joy, but now it was clouded in those shadows. If she listened close she could almost hear as students held their breath.
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Post by shades on Oct 17, 2017 16:35:05 GMT -5
William Shakespeare is my patronus.
And just like every scene in every movie where some idiot said it was ‘quiet—too quiet’. How long had they been on this train in silence, Ryland lost count of time.
Ryland sat in the compartment—he didn’t know why he didn’t leave Beauregard Abernathy alone. He hadn’t paid attention to whether the young man had given him the official boot. Not that Ryland cared—staring unseeingly at the floor. He could still feel the emptiness. The horribly familiar emptiness without Hawthorne by his side and it kept reminding him he should find her.
But suddenly the temperature began to decrease and the darkness enshrouding outside creeped interior. The lights were flickering and eventually gave out, engulfing them in darkness. Ryland wasn’t afraid of the dark, but he wasn’t fond of what lurked within it. Racking his brain, it wasn’t until he glanced at the tossed aside paper did it make sense what had stopped the Hogwarts Express dead in its tracks.
There was Abernathy’s voice, telling him that they won’t be moving anytime soon—he hardly realized that he was still there. Chocolate eyes looked up, vapor escaping his chapped lips as a soft cuss word escaped between them. “Shht.”
He wrapped his flannel around his torso a bit more. It had gotten significantly colder in the darkening around him.
“Well, I do hope that they get us to school on time. Food to eat, sleep to catch. You know.” Ryland sassed with falsetto apathy, his head swiveling to look out the compartment. The darkened hallway looked especially creepy and especially dark. Dementors thrived on it.
He knew the book knowledge about Dementors: foulest creatures on Earth, feast on happiness, can consume a person’s living soul. You know, like every basic girl Ryland came across.
Kidding, yeesh. Don’t tell Hawthorne.
Particularly, Ryland didn’t know how a dementor would feel like being around. He had his happy memories (and his happiest), and he had his prones to sadness. If Ryland had to describe his ‘emotional trauma on a scale of one-to-ten’ he’d be about a four, average but definitely never had anything particularly cruel happen.
Wait, shht. Hawthorne. She could handle herself, Ryland had full confidence in her being able to send a Dementor into the next century if needed but:
“I should find Hawthorne. Make sure she is okay.” Ryland decided, but he didn’t move from his seat.
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Post by 𝗁𝗈𝗇𝖾𝗒𝖻𝖺𝖽𝗀𝖾𝗋 on Oct 17, 2017 16:47:24 GMT -5
{ ooooh i just got an idea! does anyone want to make an auror character????? that could be a fun twist! a bit of spice to add into everything~ }
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Post by ѕρσттεdѕнιммεя on Oct 17, 2017 16:58:35 GMT -5
[ i'd be up for making one ]
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Post by shades on Oct 17, 2017 17:43:40 GMT -5
[ i'd also be up for making one. and by making one i have a few characters who originally were for cop/crime show rps who can be re-used ]
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Post by 𝗁𝗈𝗇𝖾𝗒𝖻𝖺𝖽𝗀𝖾𝗋 on Oct 17, 2017 17:48:14 GMT -5
{ oooh you bringing back shawn? }
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Post by 𝕾𝖙𝖔𝖗𝖒𝖗𝖆𝖌𝖊 on Oct 17, 2017 18:08:02 GMT -5
{ Rhyne would probably be a good auror, but I'd be happy to make one too }
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Post by 𝗁𝗈𝗇𝖾𝗒𝖻𝖺𝖽𝗀𝖾𝗋 on Oct 17, 2017 18:22:52 GMT -5
{ well, anyone who wants to make an auror can feel free to do so~ }
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Post by ѕρσттεdѕнιммεя on Oct 17, 2017 18:27:45 GMT -5
[ would you like me to make a form for him? ]
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Post by 𝗁𝗈𝗇𝖾𝗒𝖻𝖺𝖽𝗀𝖾𝗋 on Oct 17, 2017 18:38:23 GMT -5
{ i'd appreciate it, yes }
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Post by 𝗁𝗈𝗇𝖾𝗒𝖻𝖺𝖽𝗀𝖾𝗋 on Oct 17, 2017 18:38:50 GMT -5
Hawthorne had surged to her feet before she even knew why. The lights had flickered flickered flickered dark throughout the whole train. A scream chilled the air as the train screeched to a stand-still. Hawthorne’s body felt cold. Not snow and ice cold. Not the sort of cold that could be driven off by a pair of mittens and a steaming cup of tea. This was bone-deep, marrow-deep. Memory and instinct and fear-of-the-dark cold.
Her breath billowed and fogged against the glass as she watched frost creep and crack across the window. The blue sky was gone, replaced by heaving black clouds. She needed to find Ryland. He was probably fine, no doubt. As good as his knack for getting to trouble was, his knack at getting out of it was equally good, if not better. Why, there was this one time━
“Do you know how to cast the patronus charm?”
She’d entirely forgotten about the existence of the boy across from her until he spoke. For a moment, Hawthorne could only stare at him, collecting the thoughts that had scattered. Where were they again? Right, Hogwarts Express, lights were out, it was cold, and there something lurking outside the compartment door. The thing seemed to hover outside the door, its tattered shape shifting and billowing as though caught in some unseen storm.
A Dementor. A creature she’d only ever read about in brief passages of text. Creatures of the cold and dark that fed of happiness. What were Dementors doing here? If they were looking for criminals, they’d find none on a train of school children.
“Of course, I do,” Hawthorne answered, a partial lie. She knew how to cast a patronus charm, whether or not it would work was a different matter. What skill the girl lacked in casting spells, she made up for in making potions. And the gap between spellcasting and potion-making was an enormous one. She had a habit of making herself look and sound ridiculous with every spell she uttered. The simplest lumos charm would only summon a weak, guttering light lasting mere seconds for her. Hawthorne might as well be a muggle with how well spellcasting usually went for her.
Thankfully, she didn’t need to agonize over the fact for long as the Dementor remained outside for only a few seconds longer before moving how. A relieved breath hissed through Hawthorne’s teeth and her body sagged in place. She didn’t even reach for her wand, only grabbed her bags and gave a firm nod to Len, “I’ve got someone I need to find. You’ll be okay on your own? Good. Excellent. I’m off.” With that, the Ravenclaw girl threw open the compartment door and made off down the aisle.
She was an odd sight. A green-haired girl in a button-up floral print blouse and rosy pink skirt jogging down the darkened aisle of a halted train. If she was being honest with herself, she felt like the main character of a horror film. She would have fit the role perfectly if she’d been covered in blood and crying while she hurried along. The train cars were deserted of Dementors for the most part, making her search all the easier.
She found Ryland cooped up in a particularly-empty compartment alongside Beauregard Abernathy. Not bothering to stifle an ounce of the relief or enthusiasm that swelled like a miniature sun inside her, the girl threw open the door and practically pounced on her boyfriend.
“Ryland! Good lord! What the heck is going on?” She threw her arms around his neck, pretending not to notice Beau, the King of Brooding, roll his eyes and huff in exasperation.
“Perfect,” Beau groaned, dragging a hand down his face, “I think I would have preferred the Dementors.” He didn’t flinch at the bright-eyed glare Hawthorne Woods snapped his way. This is exactly what he needed: two lovesick idiots crammed into the same space as him while monsters roamed the train.
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Post by ѕρσттεdѕнιммεя on Oct 17, 2017 19:12:23 GMT -5
Jackson Minett | 27 | auror | muggle-born / no-maj | pansexual Standing at 6'1" is the most stereotypical American that you could ever meet, calling himself Jack for short. A low, Southern-accented voice belongs to the tanned, warm-smiled and laid-back male. A bit of a beard and goatee for trimmed, but full facial hair with feathery, soft shaggy chocolate brown hair that can be pulled into a very small ponytail, though it's rare for him to do such a thing. He's respectful and polite, with a side of sass and confidence, being stubborn and a little strange. His heart is made of gold, but he tends to make bad decisions here and there, due to not being the brightest person around, and is more of a "hands on" learning type and generally pushes this influence on others around him. He doesn't have a temper, but if he manages to lose his cool, it's pretty bad. Having bad arthritis in his left arm, he has a bit of chronic pain from past injuries there, plenty of scars to show. He moved from America after a few bad incidents and decided to become an auror in favor of adventuring around, a true heart that belonged to the Thunderbird house that he was taught magic in.
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Post by mags on Oct 17, 2017 19:32:22 GMT -5
( heyo kiddos )
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Post by servalstrike on Oct 17, 2017 19:46:11 GMT -5
( MAAAAAGS!!!)
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Post by ᴏᴡʟ on Oct 18, 2017 13:34:15 GMT -5
There wasn't a tunnel in sight, last I saw… and that wouldn't explain the cold… or the power outage.
Glancing back towards the ice lined window, Jane was silent for a time as she listened to the settling of the train, and the sound of her clouding white breathes. Above her head, she could hear the lights struggling to light themselves once more, but after a time, even that stopped, and she tilted her head up to see as much.
“No… no, something's doing this. This isn't natural at all…” she murmured finally, her words taking the form of spreading white fog. With a shiver, she tucked the bird closer to her chest, and for once, Lavena didn't struggle… too much. “What does this…?”
Watching with perplexed eyes, it wasn't long before the girl in her company shifted forward, and Jane felt a bolt of fear go snapping through her when she realized what Jasadja intended to do. Reaching out a frantic hand, she almost went to grasp her sleeve- to hold her back, to keep her pinned to the spot- anything to keep her from opening that door, and letting the yawning dark come sweeping in. Then she stopped, and Jane stole a little bit of comfort in this.
Glancing down at the cat upon the floor, she almost felt herself loosening once more, until a shriek came skittering through the vents. As if she'd turned to stone, Jane sat rigid in her seat, her eyes unblinking, and hands gripping her owl tight. With a dizzying sense of panic, she scoured her brain, picking through every lesson, every book she could think of, until finally, she came to a grim conclusion.
“Why would they be on the train…?” She whimpered, a hand coming to cup her cheek in worry. “Jasadja, it's--”
But apparently, Jasadja didn't care. Jasadja was starting on the stupid-adventure of a lifetime.
“Jasadja!”
Lurching from her seat, Jane was a mess of ruffled feathers and tangled robes as she practically flung herself at her companion. This time, she really did take hold of the girl's sleeve, and along with it, her wrist, which she locked inside her hand with white knuckled fingers. “Close the door! Close the door!” She hissed, her words trembling from the effort of staying quiet.
Oh, what was this woman thinking? Even if Jane was wrong and there weren't Dementors on the train, wouldn't they get in trouble for leaving their seats? That sounded like a rule, didn't it? And besides, there could still be anything else crawling around where they couldn't see…!
With a doggish sort of whimper, Jane was tiny, shivering, and quiet as she huddled behind Jasadja, with all her wispy black hair. “Are we on the same page that it's the… the Azkaban guards?” She couldn't quite get the name out, and as swallowed with a drying throat, it was a moment before she remembered what she was holding, and released the girl's wrist. “Sorry.”
Leaning around to glance out of the compartment window, and into the darkened hall, she scrunched her brow. “They're probably looking for him…” For Abernathy. “Aren't… Aren't his sons on the train…?”
For the most part- she would admit- Jane was largely in the dark when it came to the Abernathy’s case. She knew only what she had heard in passing rumors, and in the most recent of days, in printed text, at every newsstand. She'd seen his cold eyes peering through veils of paper, and determined that she wanted nothing to do with him. As for his sons- she knew even less, and she didn't entirely mind keeping it that way. Her indifference to them brought her peace of mind… but now, with the situation she found herself in then, she couldn't help but worry… but she wasn't leaving the cabin for them.
Hopefully they're alright…
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Post by servalstrike on Oct 18, 2017 20:16:52 GMT -5
Jasadja felt a grip on her wrist and glanced momentarily to see that it was Jane, although it was hard to imagine it as anyone else seeing as they were the only two people in the compartment. But what with the visitors aboard the train it was best to be sure. Jasadja’s stare flickered back to the aisle, a chill swept over her cheek. A shiver skittered over her. “But what if someone needs help?” Her throat tightened at the thought of stepping outside the safety of their compartment. But...if her Mother was there she would help. She’d risk whatever was out there to help someone.
In the cabin behind her she could see the puffed up and huddled form of Pickles with ears pinned back and hissing at the entrance where Jasadja and Jane now stood. The cat appeared to have more sense than she.
It sounded crazy though. Dementors were said to be foul creatures that sapped life from the very air. What could she even do if there were some on the train? She had performed the patronus charm once and that was during class when there was no real danger. There were professionals on the express that would handle the situation weren’t there? So why risk it?
Jasadja took a deep breath and took one step outside her compartment. Probably because she was nuts and wanted to prove something.
“Yes, I believe we are.” She bobbed her head in agreement with Jane. “The...Azkaban guards are the only likely cause of this.” Nudging her brows toward each other she twisted her mouth a touch. “Unless the train is harboring some...unsavory characters.” She didn’t want to think that any criminals against the state were hiding on the train and that the dementors had good reason for being there. Another chill crept down her spin following a cold sweat. Jasadja couldn’t decide which would be worse. But the evidence -the cold and frost coated windows- did not suggest fugitives.
The weight of Jane’s grip freed itself of Jasadja’s wrist, she found herself only a little disappointed to be free of her touch. She kept Jane behind her though, needing to shade her from any possibility of trouble.
“His sons are on the train,” she found herself saying aloud. "Stay in the cabin. I'll be back soon." Jasadja told Jane as she placed a hand on her shoulder before shifting away.
Dark brows inched upward and she started forward. “His triplet sons are on the train. We should make sure they’re okay.” The triplets and her had been in the same year since the beginning and she shared a house with Beauregard Abernathy, but she wasn’t close to them, and found herself disliking Beau. It could have been some profound curiosity to see if the triplets truly were in some kind of trouble that drove her forward. Jasadja would argue that she wanted to look out for them. Somehow she found herself making her way down the aisle, at a hurried pace, gaze flickering left and right Jasadja searched for the Abernathy’s.
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Post by servalstrike on Oct 20, 2017 11:01:41 GMT -5
( HEY everybody!)
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Post by shades on Oct 20, 2017 12:02:38 GMT -5
[ boo ]
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Post by 𝕾𝖙𝖔𝖗𝖒𝖗𝖆𝖌𝖊 on Oct 20, 2017 12:31:45 GMT -5
Hey
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Post by servalstrike on Oct 20, 2017 16:26:41 GMT -5
(How is everyone today?)
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Post by shades on Oct 20, 2017 17:42:29 GMT -5
[ doing good. a friend of mine has fall break and he's in town so our weekend is extra fun! ]
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Post by ѕρσттεdѕнιммεя on Oct 20, 2017 18:11:39 GMT -5
[ i'm sick... T-T i hope everyone else is in good health though! ]
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Post by servalstrike on Oct 20, 2017 19:20:59 GMT -5
(Hon i getting sick too u-u. i think i'm okay though? but we'll see. I'm sorry to hear that devil!)
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Post by 𝗁𝗈𝗇𝖾𝗒𝖻𝖺𝖽𝗀𝖾𝗋 on Oct 20, 2017 21:15:19 GMT -5
{ hello everyone! like serv said, i'm sick too just patiently waiting for this sore throat to get worse >-< }
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Post by ѕρσттεdѕнιммεя on Oct 21, 2017 22:39:31 GMT -5
[ i hope you feel better soon! ]
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Post by 𝓑𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐫 ♥ on Oct 22, 2017 9:54:17 GMT -5
[ yo, i know this is probably dead/closed but i was curious if u would make an exception for an old friend ]
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Post by 𝗁𝗈𝗇𝖾𝗒𝖻𝖺𝖽𝗀𝖾𝗋 on Oct 22, 2017 11:11:04 GMT -5
{ BRIAR! sure! it's kinda slow at the moment cause i've gotten busy with school so i hope you don't mind the pace~ }
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Post by servalstrike on Oct 22, 2017 11:51:28 GMT -5
(Hey Briar! Long time no see! Seeing as how some rpers haven't posted in a while I don't see why we can't make some room for you)
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Post by 𝓑𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐫 ♥ on Oct 22, 2017 12:04:19 GMT -5
[ slow is perfect; i also have school x)
-- just let me know what role I can steal and I'll have a form up for you sometime today probably ]
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Post by 𝗁𝗈𝗇𝖾𝗒𝖻𝖺𝖽𝗀𝖾𝗋 on Oct 22, 2017 12:14:23 GMT -5
{ hmm well, i think glow is doing something new now so you could probably take the western dragon i think that's it though you could always make something up for yourself if you like! we're friends so i trust you not to make an overpowered god or whatever xD }
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