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.
Post by Dominique E. Weasley on Sept 26, 2018 23:10:45 GMT
Everything was light - her feet were light, her arms were light, her head was light. Sometimes Dominique felt herself tense up so much that she felt heavy and dense and like the ground was pulling her down but right now she wanted to go up, up UP and it was very easy to. She could bounce, and she did. She enjoyed the stretch up onto her toes and she bounced to herself, unable to stop the sway of her head from side to side as she did so. Swaying was a natural and uncontrollable response. She was okay with it. The music was nice and she was swaying with her eyes closed and she didn't even need to know where she was. She didn't even care! Fun is what she felt. She felt fun. Absentmindedly she took another sip from the cup that had been handed to her. It was sweet, and blue. She wasn't sure what it was, but she decided that blue was probably her new favourite taste.
She felt an arm brush against her, and even the slightest touch made her topple off her toes and stumble to the side a bit - the situation with her balance currently was that delicate. Her eyes flashed open again, and took in her surrounding which seemed to have changed significantly since the last time she'd checked in. There were a lot of people mulling around - too many to pay attention to a drunk girl keeping to herself in the corner. She didn't see anyone she recognised but that was fine. She'd seen people earlier and that had...happened. She thought? She couldn't really remember. So it probably didn't matter. She looked down to her hands, and there was no more blue in the cup, and she knew she needed to sort this. Dom was always better with a task and something to do. So that's where she went, in search of more blue, without a care or thought of anyone or anything else as she propelled herself into the mass of people.
So. She was jostled. It was uncomfortable. "Ow," she said, to herself, to whoever was around her, it didn't matter. But she knew she hated whoever it was who had just elbowed her in the stomach. She'd have to find them and fight them later. First: blue. She pushed on, and stumbled to the side of the room. The crowd was thinner here and she had to stand for a couple of seconds to gather herself. There was a lot happening. Sometimes you just needed a moment. Moments were good. Miles would be proud of her.
tagged: Christian George Fraser words: 438 notes: writing dom drunk is a TASK date: late march 2021
Post by Christian George Fraser on Sept 27, 2018 16:40:30 GMT
Christian could never decide if he liked parties. No, actually, that wasn't entirely true. He could never decide if he liked Ravenclaw parties - and there was a definite distinction. See, most of the time he loved parties. They involved the same things as most evening did for him - some chatting, some dancing, some ridiculous competition or another between him and someone else. Usually Baggy. Sometimes Rasha. Parties started like any other night before the gradual effect of intoxicants took over his friends, and then some of them (Jasper. Always, Jasper. Sometimes others too, but always Jasper) found a warm body or three elsewhere. He genuinely never minded his friends drinking or sampling Thestral products. Just because he didn't want to didn't mean he didn't want them to - he enjoyed watching their reactions to different substances. Egging the conversations along to see what ridiculous turns they'd end up in. Challenging them to handstand competitions right at the point they'd believe they could do anything. And dancing the night away was, of course, his favourite. It didn't need to be choreographed to be perfect in its own way, no matter what his sister said.
Parties, in general, were great. Parties in Ravenclaw however... see, the issue wasn't the party itself. The issue was that point in the party where people had veered away to do their own thing, and what he felt comfortable doing at that point. In any other house there was at least someone who's dorm he could wander into to find some sort of company when he got bored of twirling around aimlessly. And, yes, Ravenclaw has Baggy. But Baggy's dorm also has Rory.
When in Ravenclaw tower Christian was pretty much stuck in the common room, so when a slower song came over the room and he felt four sets of eyes he could never quite differentiate between but all definitely belonged to a certain set of fourth year Hufflepuffs bore into him he had no idea where to go. Instinctively he just picked a random direction and darted - if he wasn't on the dance floor then they couldn't corner him. Hopefully.
He found himself by the drinks table before his head had really caught up to his body's actions. At that point in the evening where every single thing on it would have been spiked, without a doubt, but at least it was far enough away from the general mass of students that any of the Hattie's following him would gather attention, so hopefully they wouldn't try. Not as a pack, at least, and one on their own was easy enough to dodge.
tagged: Dominique E. Weasley words: 438 notes: christian is not ready for drunk dom
Post by Dominique E. Weasley on Sept 28, 2018 13:34:19 GMT
It's funny how like....lights worked? Lights and light. You know? Sometimes things were so light that everything just kind of blurred. It should have been scary, but it wasn't, because she felt fun still. She was an active person, she liked to do stuff rather than just having things stay still, so it didn't bother her so much that every time she blinked and opened her eyes there seemed to be all sorts of stuff happening around her. The buzz of activity was almost comforting, and Dominique was happy to be in it. Every now and then an errant thought would run through her head, like - maybe I'm a bit tired now, or, I really want...a donut... - but she was very adamant about ignoring them for right now. She already had her aim, which was blue, and there wasn't much that anyone or thing could do to stop her. She was very one-minded in this regard. She was a strong woman who....had goals. And stuck to them. No matter what.
Blue.
She kept moving, still feeling so light on her feet, and having to sway, stop and readjust herself every time someone touched or moved past her. For some reason her perception of space was off. Weird. But it was fine, because she didn't really notice. Or care. It was fine. She was smiling to herself, and if anyone gave her an odd look she didn't notice them either. They were a part of the homogeneous blur. She was only really ever going to notice a face if she actively recognised it - unfortunately nameless fifth years didn't make the cut for people that she cared to pay attention to right now, so they all remained faceless. It would be nice to see a face though. There were people there, she knew that much even if she didn't really know much else right now. Her instinct told her that Miles was...around. Also her brother? Hm. Where was Toby, shouldn't he be here too?
How big was this place that they'd all disappeared to.
She stopped and blinked a few more times, trying to focus on the blurs. Eventually she was able to focus, and a recognisable face appeared. He would do. She walked over to him with as much co-ordination as she could muster and placed herself right in front of him, looking up at his face with determination. "Hello," she said firmly (loudly, but the room was loud, and she needed to make her point known). "Do you know - " she took a brief pause to swallow down a hiccup. " - where the blue is?" He should know, because she thought he'd been here at least as long as she had. Probably.
Post by Christian George Fraser on Oct 2, 2018 23:13:50 GMT
Annoyingly, he's actually kind of thirsty. Its ironic really, Christian thinks, that he's stood by the drinks table, thirsty, but unwilling to drink anything unless he knows exactly what is in it. One day he's going to go full Mad-Eye and start carrying his own water flask everywhere. Its inevitable. He doesn't trust party drinks, especially not this far into the night.
He's aware that at this point he's just stood glaring at a table. He could just.. leave. There's nothing stopping him actually just leaving Ravenclaw tower. Heading back to his own dorm. Except, there is: the fact he ran away from the dance floor to the opposite side of the room than where the door is. Frankly, an absolutely rookie error. If he walks passed alone one of them will try something - this is why he tries not to be alone at parties, especially. He wonders if he yells CACKAW will one of the boys come to his aid? He could summon his broom and try the window, but that would draw way too much attention. Oh, another option is duck, duck, goose. He's the current goose and there must be another player in the vicinity (one that isn't a fourth year Hufflepuff girl, as that would definitely defeat the purpose of the distraction). There's got to be a way of getting out of here unscathed.
It's a far too familiar voice that breaks Christian from his reverie. One he spends too much time listening to, when allowed. One that haunts his dreams sometimes too, if he's perfectly honest with himself. One that hasn't been directed directly at him for, what, two years now? But one that is currently coming from about four inches in front of his face. "Hi?" He responds, blinking as his surroundings rush back to his senses. Even if he thought Dominique Weasley never wanted to speak to him again, she started the conversation and he's not rude. He is, however, careful not to look directly at her. It can burn.
She's drunk, he's certain of it. Not that there's anything wrong with that at all, but she's not usually the type and he can't help but be a little amused by it. He's smirking a little as he takes a step back from her, turning his head back to the table to assess it's contents above just 'probably contains alcohol'. He's not really sure he should be letting her get another drink, but also its so beyond his place to say anything. To anyone, but especially to her. "Blue?"
Annoyingly, there appear to be options. One seems to be brightest, the other one blue in colour is definitely more of a navy, but there's a bright purple mixture that smells like blueberries, and he's been around enough intoxicated friends before to know that sometimes the obvious answer isn't the one they mean. "Do you mean blue in colour or tastes blue?" he dares to look at her now as he points to one of the drinks in question, having mentally prepared himself for the eventuality of meeting her eyes. She still takes his breath away a little, but she always will to a certain degree, he's sure of it, "Well, smells like it tastes blue, at least." He clarifies, nodding at the other option.
Post by Dominique E. Weasley on Oct 3, 2018 19:34:26 GMT
She was blinking more than she should be. She couldn't help it - for some reason the edge of her vision kept getting blurry if her eyes were open for too long, and she had to try and blink it into submission. She needed to focus, now, and it was proving a little harder than it should be. Who knew trying to stand still and look at someone in the eye could be this difficult? Dom certainly didn't. She was just in a perpetual state of swaying ever so slightly side to side, and blinking away blurry vision to try and focus on people's faces. This was her existence now. And she didn't have the mental capacity at the current moment to try and understand why it was that any further. It just was. She leaned closer to Christian as he started to talk to her in an effort to combat it, but being closer to his face didn't really do much to help.
Christian. Why she'd decided to march over to Christian Fraser she wasn't entirely sure - and found that she...didn't care? Huh. Lots of things didn't really matter to her right now. It was fine. He was in the group wasn't he? He wasn't a stranger and she knew him, so they could talk. Why didn't they talk much? She couldn't really remember right now. Somewhere in the recesses of her mind, there was some kind of anger bubbling, but she wasn't really interested in putting energy into that right now. The things that she did know, instinctively is that they shared people. Like Toby. Or Baggy. And Jasper, she liked him too. And Cisco. So as far as Dom was concerned for right now, Christian had passed the test. She trusted him.
(Sober Dom might disagree, but as most people around her could tell, Sober Dom was another girl entirely to the one stood swaying in the Ravenclaw Common Room)
He looked startled and perhaps a little confused by her suddenly and loudly inviting herself into her personal space - and being in the state that she was, Dom wasn't really in the place to notice this fact. She just kept looking up at him, blinking with wide and expectant eyes as he answered her. It took her a couple of seconds to really take in what he was saying to her - for some reason her brain was working a little bit slower at processing words, so it took her a small beat for her to react to what he was telling her, but she got there eventually. She looked at the drinks he was pointing at, and from where she was stood, she wasn't really sure of the difference. "Uhhhhh...both," she said, unsure. Then she had an idea - she stuck her tongue out a little and pointed at it. Someone had laughed at her earlier because her tongue had gone blue - she didn't really remember who, but that wasn't really the matter now. "That blue," she said, and then stuck her tongue out again so he could have another look. She kept blinking up at him, smiling happily. "It's good."
Post by Christian George Fraser on Aug 3, 2019 0:19:14 GMT
For once in his life, Christian felt like he was being more still than the person he was communicating with. It had less to do with how little he was moving and more to do with how much she was, but he was very aware of it. The slight sway in Dominique's stance had her leaning into his space as often as she was leaning away from it, and normally if she got that close he'd run. Like physically run away, not just mentally. However if it was any of his friends who was this drunk and failing to stand upright consistently, he'd be right up in their space to be used as a leaning pole.... so he settled for the happy middle of staying completely still. Not moving away, but not getting any closer either. Ready to catch her in the instance she did fall but not pro-actively stopping it from happening in the first place. It seemed like the safest option all round.
He was used to slow responses from intoxicated people so it didn't bother him at all that she was taking a while to answer his question, it mostly just confused him. That was the thing with them, everything usually was quick. It was fire, and anger, and heat, and there were never any pauses. This situation was so keenly off their usual rhythm that it was actually laughable. Although Christian knew better than to laugh in front of a drunk person without an obvious, visible reason, so he kept that to himself.
And then she stuck out his tongue towards him and made him look at it. Pointed at it to actually make him focus on it, and it felt like the floor was about to disappear from beneath him and he'd wake up in the dungeons wondering what the fuck he'd accidentally ingested to take his dreams in such an odd direction.
But that didn't happen because this was actually happening and Dominique was expecting an answer and d'you what, "That's probably this one, then."
Christian topped her glass up with the navy concoction he'd initially thought was least likely, but actually matched the current colour of her tongue exactly. Although he did pause before letting go of it to her completely, "How much of this have you had to actually dye your tongue the same colour? Like, have you drunk anything else all night!?" And then he realised it might seem like he was going to take her prize away from her, and very quickly released it entirely and shrugged at her, "Absolutely not judging just, y'know, its impressive."
tagged: Dominique E. Weasley words: 444 notes: boy's thinking too much make him stop
Post by Dominique E. Weasley on Aug 8, 2019 21:40:12 GMT
She was entirely sure that her current happiness relied on the cup in her hand getting refilled. The blue was what had gotten her this far, wasn’t it? And she felt great. Like not even just slightly good, but really, really great. She felt like she hadn’t got a care in the world, and that was wildly different from how Dominique Weasley usually functioned. Usually, she cared about everything - that was her thing, really giving a shit about every people, place and thing, from big to small. It’s where all her energy was always directed towards, caring. But as of right now - no. Nothing. Just a happy light buzz that kept her (mostly) upright and present and it was good. She needed it, lest she let her mind wander and she started to think about how embarrassing -
Oh it was getting filled up again. He’d done it, he’d found it, and he’d taken it and her cup was full again and he was giving it back to her. Merlin she’d made such a good choice coming over here, Christian had done her so good and she was very, very thankful - so she couldn’t help but give him a stunningly bright smile as he helped her. This is what she liked - wasn’t it nice when people could work together for the common good. And wasn’t that - oh, she felt something emotional well up in her - wasn’t that what they all needed? Like wasn’t that simultaneously the most profound yet fundamental part of being a human, community and collaboration towards shared goals -
Christian was saying something to her, so with a few blinks, she had to force herself away from whatever train of thought her brain had been disappearing down and focus on what was happening in front of her. “Hmm?” she said automatically, having to take a few seconds to process his words before they actually started making sense. “Oh I’ve had uhhh -” she paused to think but in truth she really couldn’t remember anything that had happened in the last few hours. Hell, she couldn’t even remember what had happened five minutes ago. Wait - how had she gotten over here again? “ - Lots. But it’s been good. I like it. You should have some!” And with that it was time for her to have some more herself, and she took a great big gulp of the blue, swaying without even meaning to to the beat of the music around them. It was just as good as she thought she remembered. But as her thirst was satiated, her mind started to zip around to new topics to focus on, and she suddenly had a desire to go find Lottie. Or maybe Miles. Yeah, now that she thought about it, she wanted to go find a person.
“I don’t know where people are,” she said suddenly and loudly, unable to stop herself from giving Christian a commentary of the things she was thinking. “I’ve been trying to find them before but I couldn’t, I think they’ve all gone.” She tried to take a step then, a move to try and find ‘people’, but with a particularly powerful sway she went over on the weight of her ankle and she found herself stumbling forward into his chest with an “oof!” A giggle escaped from her before she could stop it - she never usually fell over. That was weird. But she didn’t let it stop her, as she brought her hand to his chest to push herself back up to her proper height. Good job it was a sturdy surface. “Thank youuuu,” she sang, and gave his t-shirt a little half-hearted tug to go with it, from where it was scrunched up under her hand. And with that she propelled herself away and towards the exit, trying not to trip up over her feet as she did so.
Post by Christian George Fraser on Aug 14, 2019 14:06:13 GMT
The pauses before she would respond still freaked him out a bit, but he found himself enthralled as she spoke to absolutely no ones surprise. That was the thing with Dom, he always listened when she spoke. Which was decidedly not the case in most other aspects of Christian's life. His attention span wasn't great and he knew it. Not unless he could channel some of his ever-present restless energy elsewhere when he was supposed to be paying attention. He didn't always need to do that with her though, although maybe that's because his energy was channeled into paying acute attention to his own responses to whatever she was doing at all times... huh.
He furrowed his brow at her answer but couldn't stop the grin also forming too, "Lots? Very specific," he teased lightly at her, "I'm good, thanks. You enjoy it though."
Christian could easily guess who she meant by 'people' and for some reason it hit him in force how many of their closest friends overlapped. It was something he knew objectively but hadn't really considered before - that the Venn diagram of their friends had a huge middle section. He pondered. "I haven't seen anyone for a while, but honestly I hadn't really been lo-"
His arm came up automatically as she fell into him, trying to support her in some way even though it would barely help. Before she'd even landed Christian knew they wouldn't fall - his natural stance in any setting was stable enough to withstand the force of anyone falling into him unless they were really trying to knock him over, and even then sometimes he could still stay upright thanks very much Baggy. The think with drunk people though, was they weren't really trying to manage their weight in any way. Almost any one else would be on their arse right now with a very confused Dominique lying on top of them and... Christian really needed to halt that train of thought. That wasn't reality. That hadn't happened. They were upright and she was against his chest and he had one arm on her back to hold her up and... she was giggling?
And then she pushed herself off him and she was off. If his brain was functioning he would have noted how the motion wasn't unkind in any way and would probably be dwelling on it, but in actuality he was more concerned that she was off and that really didn't seem like a good idea whilst she was in this state. So Christian did the only thing he really could in this situation, he followed after her.
Miraculously he made it through the common room without being intercepted by hyperactive fourth years, and followed her out into the tower before calling after her, "Where, exactly, are you going now?" He asked, really hoping Dom was about to tell him she'd had a hext off someone else who was coming to find her and he could hand over responsibility of her care into other hands.
tagged: Dominique E. Weasley words: 512 notes: i need you to know my shuffle is currently playing an acoustic version of we don't have to take our clothes off
Post by Dominique E. Weasley on Sept 9, 2019 11:21:46 GMT
She was a bit wobbly. This was a strange sensation for Dom Weasley to contend with, because in general she was someone that had been blessed with a remarked amount of grace, and much as she was in all aspects of her life, every movement she made was determined and made with focus and precision. Now, however, as light as the rest of her body felt there was something sluggish and slow about her feet; it was as if they weren’t connected properly to the rest of the body, unable to keep up with where she was trying to direct them to. So she was wobbly, unable to move in those direct straight lines she usually did, her pace off-beat. The stairs she would admit, were a greater challenge than she’d ever foreseen they could be - there were a few instances she accidentally took two at a time, and others that sent her straight into the wall with enough force to make her go, “Ow.”
Still, she made it out relatively unscathed, and the second she was out in the corridor she felt the cool air hit her sweaty skin. It was refreshing, and so startling that it made her stop in her tracks for a moment. The stark difference from the clinging close heat from the sheer amount of bodies in the common room in contrast to the empty hallway not only gave her pause but also give her brain a brief moment of clarity for the first time in a long while that evening. It was over in a flash, but in that fleeting second where her head felt clear and her inner monologue felt like herself again, she experienced one undeniable thought: You need to go to sleep.
Yes, right. Sleep. That would be a good idea. Bed - oh yes, her bed would be so nice. Snuggling down in her pillows and wrapping herself up in her duvet and blocking out the rest of the world as she could disappear into unconsciousness? Divine. So that was where she needed to be going - bed. And the minute she had decided that’s what she wanted to do, her mind was set and everything else felt quite insignificant. She noticed idly that she still had her cup in her hand, and without thinking much more about it she downed its contents lest they be wasted. The only problem left was where exactly was she going to put the cup? Even drunk, the thought of just leaving it on the floor made her feel uncomfortable - who did she think she was that someone would just come and clean up after her? Would she just have to carry it with her until she could throw it away? She looked at it again but then - that’s when she realised the more that she looked at it and oh no -
She heard a voice, and she turned around to face it. Blinking a few times, Christian Fraser came into focus, looking at her and - oh he’d asked her a question and was waiting for her answer. In all truth she didn’t really register the words that had been spoken to her, and instead of answering in any sort of helpful way, she almost felt a shift in her as her filter disappeared, her inner monologue suddenly became a stream of thoughts that she was just saying to him, out loud. “I don’t think this cup is recyclable,” she said, not bothering to hide her dismay. “Who was in charge of cups?” She made a sad noise as she clutched it in her hands. “I didn’t make sure about the cups.”
This night continued to expose bad decision after bad decision for her, and she really wasn’t feeling so good about any of it. “I need to go,” she told Christian. “I can’t find anyone so I need to go to bed.” She started walking again, following wherever her body was automatically taking her, not even stopping to consider whether it was the right direction.