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 Posted: Mon Aug 31, 2015 5:54 pm
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Sata Snow
Slytherin~~~Third Year~~~Reserve Chaser~~~PureBlood
We are who we are ~ This is going to be soooo good.
Even if we are not who we want ~ Sera
Or where we want ~ Dungeon Chamber
Sata had not even heard the footsteps as he started lifting the bucket of goop to it's place. But just as he was pushing up on it, a girl's voice rang out and he froze. He recalculated what time it was and how much time he still had. He still had at least an hour! He looked back to see a second year. With a sigh of relief he finished putting the goop high next to the middle pillar. He held the string it was attached to real tight as he moved to set up the rest of the trap. "Not that it really matters to you, but I'm messing with a prank on an older Slytherin." He responded, pulling the string as taught as it could be, and the letting go after tying it across the room. Now to make the mechanism which would cause it to tip over when the string was messed with. He smirked at his handiwork for such a limited amount of resources. Then turned to the younger girl near him. "If all goes right, when I get it finished, she will walk in. Start the trap, and about when she reaches there it will flow over her head. With a hopefully audible and lovely scream and the quiet snicker from me." He said. Then as an afterthought wondered why he was telling this to a girl... He didn't even know really... Other than she was on the quidditch team. He looked over and then back. "What was your name again.... I never really paid attention in tryouts..." He said quietly as he looked at her.
He normally paid such good attention to these sorts of things when it came to others, especially in his own house. Who he should not be afraid of, who he should be wary of, and who he shouldn't care less about. Like the fact that she was speaking clearly, and had barely an accent. She seemed dressed for perfection, if you thought it was that. Back straight, normally that of a know it all, but also of one of higher birth. "Oh! Avery. Now I remember. And what pray tell are you doing walking the dungeons?" He asked finally remembering her name. Of course it was the same as the dolt, Sapphire had been screwing around with for years. At the thought of his elder sister he rolled his eyes. He really couldn't be too mad at her, she had saved his bloody life last year.
((Sorry work....))
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Posted: Wed Sep 02, 2015 9:18 pm
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Posted: Tue Sep 15, 2015 6:32 pm
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Posted: Wed Sep 16, 2015 2:11 pm
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The Forgotten Weasley Crew
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Posted: Thu Mar 02, 2017 5:40 pm
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Welcome to my world; now you can stop believing-
All the lies you think are true, so cunning and deceiving...
A gift I've made for you, wrapped in love and misery!
My confessions far from used; I've only died sometime last century.
Demons walk the Earth, while angels stay in heaven...
Some might say it's worse; I don't care how you fooled ten million.
T R E V A
A N N E S T
W A R L O W
slytherin │ second year │ halfblood
Treva knew all about the stages of grieving, because the dumb-arse mind healer her nain had forced her and Maddy to go to twice before she went back to school had told her all about it. "Treva, you seem to be trapped in the stage of Anger," the woman had said, very sympathetically, and offered her a stress ball, which Treva had whipped at her face. No s**t she was angry. Her dad was dead, her mum had gone mental and couldn't care less about her bloody kids, and she'd been kicked out of the house because she was 'too much to handle', along with her brother. Alright- maybe Mad had been literally 'too much' because when he got angry, he tended to break stuff, and hit, really hard, so she could see the point there. But her! There was nothing wrong with her. She wasn't crazy. She just... couldn't help herself sometimes. And she was so, so mad.
She didn't even know why. Tad and her had fought like wild half the time. Not nearly as much as her and Mam, but that was because he was her father, and had always been the one to do most of the yelling, so she'd usually backed off with him a lot faster than she would have with her mother. It wasn't like she'd been 'Daddy's Little Princess'. Di had always been his favorite, because she was the oldest girl, and her mother was dead, and even when Mad had been bloody awful, a real legitimate little monster, Tad had let it go because he was the oldest boy, and the only boy, aside from Steffan, who she sometimes thought everyone just didn't count, because of his issues. So why did she even care that much at all?
Treva couldn't easily say she loved her parents the way she knew other kids did, and it wasn't because she'd had some awful childhood. She just had never felt that close to them, was all. They didn't understand her, and didn't try. They treated everything she did like she was always testing them, even when she was just being a kid, albeit one who could look like anyone or anything she wanted. They acted like she was such a burden sometimes. Not always. She had good memories, especially of Tad. Times when he'd swing her up on his shoulders or laugh at the faces she could make, ruffle her constantly shifting hair no matter how long she made it. He had been going to build a tree house with her and Mad. He'd promised.
She sat in a corner, pressing her burning forehead against the cold stone, and tried to remember the sound of his voice, and what he smelled like. Treva still could, to her relief. She could feel the scratch of his beard when he picked her up and carried her to bed, when she fell asleep on the couch when she was nine, and his rough hands when he tried to teach her how to properly ride her toy broom, not that she'd ever really used it much. She kept trying to cry, like she needed to somehow get it out, but nothing came out. Really, she just didn't want to go home. Who knew if she was even allowed home for Christmas. They might just make her stay with Taid and Nain again. It'd be so humiliating.
"We're going to miss the train," Di was hovering in the doorway, arms folded across her chest.
"Don't care," Treva muttered.
"Well, I do. I want to see my other family."
She meant her mum's family. Di always spent Christmas and New Years with them. Not that Treva cared. She just wished she had somewhere to escape to as well. "Then just go," she snapped. "No one cares whether or not I get off the train anyways."
Di sighed and crossed the room to her, crouching down beside her. "I care. And your mam cares too, even if she- if she made a mistake, this summer."
"She hates me."
"She doesn't hate you any more than you hate her. She was sick- mentally, she wasn't herself, and she made a mistake. She's better now. You would know if you ever read the letters she's been sending you."
"She sent me away," Treva said thickly, and to her horror, the words caught in her throat and her eyes watered painfully. She swiped at them in agitation. "She couldn't deal with it so she just sent me an' Mad away, the b***h," she sobbed it, for some reason, and screwed her eyes shut in mortification, but it felt better to use a dirty word her mother would have been aghast at. "That b***h," she said again, savagely, to make herself feel better, but it didn't do much good. "I'm her daughter, an' she- she-,"
Di pulled her away from the grimy corner and sort of half into her lap while she started to sob, silvery iron streaks of grief shooting through her paling hair. "I know, Trev. I know."
This gift I've made to haunt, while searching for infinity;
Some might say I'm wrong; I say it's my own destiny.
Let's take a chance, let's take a chance-
Let's all take a chance on something strange!
Hate, this culture I don't see...
Hate, this culture I don't breathe in.
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Cinnabun Gryffie Vice Captain
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Posted: Mon May 29, 2017 8:26 pm
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