The newest batch of Hogwarts students have entered this historic school and no one knows how their future will turn out - will you be a quidditch pro or maybe a prefect? The year is now 2021, and now it's time for the next generation to make their mark. The newest batch of Hogwarts students have entered this historic school and no one knows how their future will turn out - and that is where the fun begins.
The plot will be determined by the characters of the site as of now - future plots will change as these forces weigh in on the Wizarding World, and we see where these characters take us. So join in and let your character make their mark!
Minimum word count is 200.
[googlefont="Oswald"][googlefont="Nothing You Could Do"]
BUT THE TIGERS COME AT NIGHT
with their voices soft as thunder
Rory's feet pounded on the pathway as he left the grass and made his way towards the castle at a steady jog. The grounds were still carrying the chill of winter, patches of frost dotted about the thawing lawns, but he loved the cold, and running in it was a favourite activity of his since he'd dropped Quidditch this year to become a Prefect instead. It was the best way to keep himself in shape without the sport to do the job for him. The rhythm he stomped was hypnotic, and he had been in a trance for most of his run around the grounds, ignoring other students he passed, even those who called out to him. He was in the zone, back the hell off, he would talk to friends later when he was done and showered. It wasn't so hard to just leave someone be when they were clearly busy and hadn't planned regular stops along the way to listen to people being idiots and asking "going for a run?". No, dickhead, I'm just dancing fucking swan lake, do you like my tutu? Gang of wankers.
He slowed as he entered the courtyard, and reached up to push the hood of his Ravenclaw hoodie down from his head, his dark hair a mess underneath, but he knew it looked good so didn't bother to try and fix it. His wand and a bottle of water were tucked into the front pocket of his hoodie, and he pulled the bottle out and opened it, downing nearly half of it in one go and leaning against the fountain, hazel eyes taking in his surroundings. A bunch of first years were playing gobstones in the corner, only two out of six of them having any idea how to play. Rory laughed to himself. If he hadn't been tired and in need of a wash, he'd have gone over and tried to teach them, but he didn't have the patience or energy right then. The stone wall of the fountain was cool beneath him as he perched there, his breath steadying the longer he rested. A fifth year girl passed and gave him a flirty smile. Rory frowned back at her. Everyone knew he had a girlfriend, it was common knowledge that he wasn't interested, but it appeared some were just that delusional that they held onto hope at all costs. She scurried away and Rory turned his frown on his shoes, lifting one foot up onto the wall beside him to retie his shoelace.
________________________________________________________ tag: open | words: 456 | notes: hi hi! | outfit: Eagle hoodie, shorts, trainers.
Post by Paisley B. Corner on Jul 30, 2018 18:20:33 GMT
Nothing much has happened of note since I last wrote you. The castle is pretty much the same as always, and at the minute everyone is just enjoying the calm before they have to panic about exams. Obviously they wouldn't have to panic if they'd actually studied the rest of the year, but people don't really think about that until the last minute, do they. All I know is I wont be panicking...
That was a lie - she knew it, and her mother would probably know it too, because even if she wasn't exactly the picture perfect ideal of motherhood, she knew her only daughter like the back of her hand. She would probably panic coming up to exam season, but it certainly wouldn't be for lack of preparation. No, she would be one of the most, if not the most, prepared students ready to walk into the exam hall. The panic wouldn't come from her worrying that she wouldn't know anything - it would be the self-inflicted panic from worrying that she wouldn't meet the standards she'd set for herself. Standards that she knew that she could reach if she gave it her all, and would be devastated not to reach if she messed up somehow. She wouldn't mess up, she knew that, somewhere deep down. But there was that other place deeper, deeper down that worried she wasn't as good as she kept setting herself up to be. Most of the time she ignored it, by putting the pressure on herself to be better and succeeding. But in those times of stress, it couldn't help but rear up its ugly head.
Maybe that's why she'd written the letter? Her and her mother's correspondence was erratic, much like the rest of their relationship, but every now and then they'd set aside enough time to write down updates and ask for one in return. Paisley was much better doing this than the other way around, but they both seemed to prefer it that way. Paisley certainly wasn't going to be asking for updates on her mother's constant shambles of relationships - one of the perks of Hogwarts was getting away from all of that. And likewise, Jackie only ever wanted to hear about her daughter and what she was up to, and lacked the concentration and drive to sit down and hand write stuff down herself. It somehow worked out in all of their favours. But Paisley had been thinking on exams, and she couldn't help but let her mind wander to her mother, and she wondered if correspondence with her was prompted by the idea that it could boost her mood, for a whole manner of reasons (all far too complex and frustrating to sit down and think about when there were so many other things that she could be doing with her day).
The letter was gripped in her hand as she entered the Courtyard on her way out to the Owlery, and she didn't expect to be stopped on her way - only - when she looked around at the other students out and about, she caught sight of that Rory Kirke, leaning up against the fountain and giving evils at a fifth year, who scurried off with her head down, and barrelling past Paisley back into the castle. She couldn't help herself really - she stopped, folding her arms a little, and raised an eyebrow at the Ravenclaw, challenging him to explain what the hell that was.
[googlefont="Oswald"][googlefont="Nothing You Could Do"]
BUT THE TIGERS COME AT NIGHT
with their voices soft as thunder
A shadow fell over him as he finished tying his laces, and Rory glanced up, dropping his foot back to the ground and merely staring at the miniature person who was practically glaring at him, only she was so doll-like in appearance that she really couldn't pull it off all too well. It was kind of cute. "You're in my light, can you move over a bit before you declare your undying love for me?" he asked, crossing his arms over his broad chest to mirror her stance, only he was still sitting and far more relaxed than her. Actually, everybody in the castle could be classed as far more relaxed than Corner, she seemed to have a permanent stick up her arse, and at times when she wasn't irritating the crap out of him, he kind of admired her drive and determination. Some people said she was the female version of himself, which Rory took great offence at. Just because they both had their eye on the head boy and girl positions for next year, did not make them similar. That was just a horrible thought.
His lip had curled with the thought, but he was still waiting to hear what kind of bee she had in her bonnet today. There was always something with her, and he was glad he wasn't in the same house as her, because he couldn't stand dealing with "You've just left mud all over that couch" or "Did you just spray deodorant in the middle of the common room?" or "Please don't look at me, because it makes me want to kiss you and it's not fair that you're taken." Okay, maybe the last one was a stretch, but he could just hear her whinging in his head, and it was irritating him before he even knew what was wrong. Maybe there was nothing wrong and she had just gotten her face stuck like that from having such a sour expression all of the time. He gazed up at her thoughtfully, watching for signs of movement or hints that her eyebrow was capable of relaxing. There were spells that could freeze your face, people called them beauty spells, but there was nothing beautiful about the way they made you look. Had Corner been experimenting with her already doll-like face? That would be bloody hilarious.
Post by Paisley B. Corner on Aug 20, 2018 13:28:38 GMT
Hogwarts often offered up uniquely frustrating individuals for Paisley to deal with on a day to day basis - she supposed that this was just the nature of school, and this one in particular, with all sorts of people growing up in a confined space together and being forced to get along. It was inevitable there would be some people that you didn't completely get along with - the difference was that Paisley actually had standards unlike most of the student population, so she found most of her peers significantly lacking in what she would consider as admirable personality traits. Rory Kirke was a particularly....interesting case, in this regard. He was frustrating to be sure - argumentative, but not in the more relaxed and effortless way that Nate Nott was - where Nate was cool and collected, Rory was blustering and aggressive, Paisley found. It wasn't an attractive trait - in fact it was almost positively Gryffindor-ian.
Still - as much as she could fault him, there were other, more obvious reasons that she couldn't help but feel a grudging respect for. The things that mattered, you know - drive, ambition, intelligence. It made for a very confused sort of relationship between the two of them, where they toed the line somewhere between dislike and allies. It had crossed her mind more than once that there was a chance that when she'd be given the Head Girl badge next year, Rory might be offered the honour of Head Boy too. He was a prefect, after all, and had what she'd consider as some of the important characteristics a Head should have, even if he wasn't her ideal partner for the task (though realistically, there wasn't really anyone in her year that she'd consider her absolute match for the role, so even measuring up to it slightly could be considered as a win).
She pondered this too as she pursed her lips a little, looking down at him. Naturally he'd replied in some sort of dig, but she didn't want to give him the satisfaction of responding to it. She stood her ground, and cocked her head a little to the side, regarding him. "Just wondering whether scaring off younger years is very Prefect-like," she wondered aloud, feigning thoughtfulness in his voice. "I just thought you'd be more conscious of that sort of thing as we're getting closer to Seventh Year." She smirked a little, the edges of her lips quirking up.
tagged: @rory words: 407 notes: the idea of these two as head boy and girl is terrifying and i love it