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Post by Hadyn Bryant on Feb 7, 2009 17:33:11 GMT -5
To the Sound of a Bomb Ticking Away Hadyn hadn't been able to resist returning to the gallery. It hadn't been a place of any interest at all, a few months ago. Weeks ago she would have past this place right on by without a second glance -- the stone carved doorway, the glint of steel from inside. It would never have caught her interest really, unless she happened to be playing a silly game with her friends.
Hadyn frowned. This was no place for playing. This was a important landmark in her life, though it was a place that would haunt her dreams for the rest of her life.
Hadyn entered cautiously -- it was almost as if she was scared someone were going to jump out at her. Hadyn's face showed all the tension of a girl scared to death. She really was -- the ominous way her soft footsteps echoed off the several suits of armor lining the walls.
They glinted silver, polished to perfection. Peeves, luckily, wasn't there to lurk inside their metal bodies and make them say rude things to her. She had only been here a couple times since the incident, but Peeves had managed to catch her once in here. Not that it was off limits. It was a very public place, it was just this room. . . it brought back terrible memories.
Hadyn drifted to the side, running her fingers over one cold chest. She looked down, biting her lip. She could do this. She could be strong.
Her small hand fell away, and she padded softly away, gaze intent on the ground, back to the center of the spacious, cold, commandeering room. She inhaled shakily, steadying herself, before she looked up and faced the fanciest, the most famous, and the most terrible steel man of them all.
He was the center pieced, the only one against the end to the long hall, stood on a pedestal. Legend went this is the suit of armor that Godric Gryfindor himself wore into battle. For Jaiden to hang a dead Slytherin inside it was one of the ultimate sins to the houses -- he humiliated the Slytherins, his own house, and the Gryffindors as well.
The small Ravenclaw drew towards it warily. Once she was an arm's length away, she outstretched her small hand. The body was long gone from inside, the stench of decay cleared away with a few quick spells. But the memories that the armor held for her -- well, they would be encased in that body of steel for years and years to come.
And, gently, Hadyn laid her small fingers against the armor's cold chest.
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Jakob Stevenson
Hufflepuff
6th Year
"Oh, you can't help that," said the Cat "we're all mad here. I'm mad. You're mad."
Posts: 189
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Post by Jakob Stevenson on Feb 7, 2009 18:12:49 GMT -5
Two bright green eyes shined in the armor's polished surface. The steal may be cold, but the eyes were enveloped in total darkness. They belonged to Nam-tag, Jakob Stevenson's faithful cat. She was curled up under the foot of an old rusted suit, cleaning her paws. She was a wild looking thing, hair matted out in every direction, untamed or combed. Vicious as well, blood spots seemed to have been dripped in front of her muzzle.
A normal cat licks it paws, then brushes its head, watching its work with intent. This cat was different, it never cared what its work was, it was the person before her that mattered. The green eyes stared up at Hadyn, as though she were going to cripple her with only a look. She finished cleaning and sat there, muscles tensed, watching. The eyes seemed to know what this place meant to Hadyn, even if the cat never would.
It was not abnormal for pets to roam the grounds, but Nam-tag never did so without her master close by. Jakob stood in such still silence he could have been dead. He had come here to pay respects to one suit that had been used in battle against his ancestors. He gazed at the inscription on the sword hilt, only his eyes seemed to move. He reached out a hand to stroke the sword, the old enchanted weapon. How many lives had it taken, in trade for just the one of the armor bearer?
A faint smile came to his lips as he gazed at the hole in the armor. His fith back granda had blasted the wizards heart right out of his chest when they had come to ransac the gypsy camp. The british never liked the romania cluttering up their lands, even the magical Brits were intollerant. He sighed, the loudest he'd been in hours. So many of these suits were reveared as being a heroes shielding. Yet their stories were from british mouth, and his stories were from those people attacked.
His greening eyes gazed round the room and shed tears for all those people. History was not kind to them, nor would it be to him.
Jakob was a place holder for the low. When you lose yourself for six years, forgetting to find a niche, you find companionship where you can. He knew how to judge people, which ones were mad and which were just misunderstood. Sadly no one liked you when you tried to help them. The people who needed his help hated him, and the people who wanted his attention didnt exist. Yet he kept trying, building up whatever he could.
Jakob began to walk, his boots oddly silent. He knew someone else was in the room, a girl most likely, what was she doing here, dont normal people have friends to talk to?
"Bryant... shouldnt you be outside?" Jakob called, seeing her reflection in one of the suits. His cat shifted gaze to her master, waiting for the order to move.
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Post by Wes Borgin on Feb 8, 2009 0:42:33 GMT -5
"You know I find this amusing and our nightly games are great and all, but I really need my Charms book," Wes's bass voice sounded from outside the gallery for a moment. It was laced with forced pleasantry that hid his irritation with the poltergeist. This was the fourth time this week his books had mysteriously gone missing and he was sure that the culprit was Peeves...again....
He growled softly to himself, stuffing his remaining books into his leather messenger bag slung over one shoulder. So, according to Peeves's subtle hint (Throwing armor down the stairs at him when asked to give him a hint) his books were probably in a suit of armor. So, the armor gallery was a safe bet of where to look.
"C'mon, Peeves, I really need that book, " Wes said, desperation was starting to fill his voice as he lifted up a face mask at the opening and peering in.
"Bryant... shouldnt you be outside?"
Oh, people. Wes's hearing picked up easily on the sentence from his fellow Hufflepuff. Well, what was going on in here? He noticed Hadyn standing just beyond Stevenson. She didn't look happy either. Keeping to his hunting and peering into a second suit he said, "Little chilly out, don't ya think?"
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Jakob Stevenson
Hufflepuff
6th Year
"Oh, you can't help that," said the Cat "we're all mad here. I'm mad. You're mad."
Posts: 189
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Post by Jakob Stevenson on Feb 8, 2009 0:59:00 GMT -5
Jakob glanced when he heard a voice coming in through the door way. Jakob glanced around for an armor out of place and smiled. One of the chasis was mislaid, which meant there was something in it. His eyes went back to the speaker, Borgin.
The blonde hadnt seen much of him out of the tower, aloof from Jakob's eyes. A heavy sigh was all that could come of the other's question. Jakob lifted an arm to show that he was wearing his trademark outfit, several layers thick.
"Thanks to this outfit i don't feel cold or hot, it gets a bit old after a time. How are you Master Borgin?" The words flowed out of his lips like warm water. They held no emotion, though his face may have been pride. He held his body in a regal stance, a sneaky smile of knowledge on his lips. He was really just playing around, but his whole body just gave off an odd feeling.
The cat glanced round to look at Wes, her eyes still so fixed. She jumped up and ran to Jakob, perching on his shoulder.
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Post by Hadyn Bryant on Feb 8, 2009 10:42:43 GMT -5
Hadyn nearly jumped out of her favorite, tanned, fur boots that her mom had gotten her for Christmas. Her fingers slid away from the cold armor with a start, and she turned quickly. There, standing only a few feet away from her, was Jakob Stevenson.
Pale blue eyes flickered around the room, with an almost scared little tinge in it. This strange fear didn't come from him, because of who he was -- she could care less that he was Jakob Stevenson. It was the fact that he was a man, almost a complete two feet taller than her, and she was completely alone, aside from the hollowed bodies of steel lining the walls.
But, nevertheless, Hadyn crossed her arms. She hadn't lost that sassy, fiery nature that she was famous for, scared of guys or not, and his next words were of no help to the blonde's attitude.
"Bryant. . .Shouldn't you be outside?"
She frowned up at him, obviously put off. Well, hello to you, too, she thought sourly. She didn't say it of course -- Hadyn knew she had a reputation for being the first with a snappy comeback, but her recent fear of men hindered that a bit. But that was okay -- the next voice saved her from all of that.
"Little chilly out, don't ya think?"
The voice was deep, familiar bass tone that made Hadyn breathe out in relief, quiet, almost inaudible. She had heard it on regular occasion -- actually, she was around Wes more than a lot. He was one of her very best friends, and he just got quite a few brownie points.
"Hey, Wes," she said, exhaling, and sweeping her long blonde hair all over one shoulder. She looked down, her crossed arms slipping around a little, to hug her slim, petite rib-cage. Her voice was soft and quiet -- something about this place gave her the notion to not raise her voice.
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Post by Wes Borgin on Feb 8, 2009 14:49:04 GMT -5
Wes looked over at the pair and nodded, moving forward to join their little group. He was feeling a little sluggish as he made his way forward, but that would easily be taken care of at dinner with a very rare steak. He realized he looked slightly paler than usual, but hopefully Denny wouldn't notice, though she usually did.
He'd spent the majority of his time with Hadyn, now that he was thinking about it. That fact alone he didn't mind. She stuck up for him and beat the girls away with her independance. That he didn't much mind either. Some of those first year girls needed to focus on someone their own age and not eighty-six years older. Not that they would ever know he was a vampire though. He would like to keep that under raps. Ever since that muggle book came out back in the earlier part of the century people young fangirls had been on the lookout for extremely pale elusive people somewhat like himself and had suddenly expected him to be dazzling and sparkle. He glanced down at his hand still blistered from his day with Sofia. He definitely didn't sparkle.
That was odd, it should've been healed up by now leaving perfect, flawless skin behind but it hadn't. He figured that it was because he wasn't getting enough human blood. He and Sylvania had gotten all they needed from a blood bank and now that source was cut off and he had gotten his from the Hogwarts slaughter house on the very edge of the grounds. Pigs blood obviously didn't heal him as fast as human blood.
"So, Peeves get you guys too?" he asked, not sure what to say. Probably not, but someone had to break the silence.
He was giving Hadyn a curious look. That almost inaudible sigh of relief his inhuman senses had picked up on had him concerned. He felt his ice colored eyes (not his natural color, but hey he was hungry) move back and forth between the two. Guess I came just in time....
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Jakob Stevenson
Hufflepuff
6th Year
"Oh, you can't help that," said the Cat "we're all mad here. I'm mad. You're mad."
Posts: 189
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Post by Jakob Stevenson on Feb 8, 2009 15:05:07 GMT -5
Jakob laughed silently, so thats what the books were about, a terrifying poltergeist? He shook his head at the boy, there was no reason for him to fear Peeves. The ghost and himself had a sort of understanding. Jakob could help obtain less than comforting plants and liquids, and Peeves would not bother him.
"Nay, I'm here to look upon your unjust heroes" The blonde replied, his voice had switched into an eastern European accent, Romanian most likely. He tapped one of the armors, and sneered his face in the reflection. "The British revere those who conquer the lands of the weak, or drive out the poor, it sickens me" His eyes shined green, then paled with blue again. All the blood around him made him feel angry, though he didnt show it. It was not correct to show the more fiery emotions, the harder to tame. So he held a passive face, trying to keep it silent.
Jakob turned to look at them. He could see the signs in their body language, he'd had enough time to study it in the past years. Haydn's breathing had been a bit faster than it should have been before Wes got there, had Jakob done something to make her afraid of him? The blonde's eyes turned on Wes, scanning him, he was hungry, a very simple to pick up on if you've lost a finger to an animal. The blue eyes naturaly followed gaze, looking at Wes hands. They seemed to be blistered. Whatever it was, it was not Jakob's place to ask about scars. He pulled his sleeves down just a little farther.
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Post by Hadyn Bryant on Feb 8, 2009 21:21:11 GMT -5
Hadyn glanced up -- he came here to see armor he didn't like? That made lots of sense. She shook her head. Jakob was a strange guy. He didn't make any sense to her, and with her current condition, she wasn't sure that she would get to know him any better.
But Wes, she already knew. He probably knew, or had an idea, as to why she was here, and quiet. He probably already noticed that she shied away from men lately. If he didn't, it was either because she trusted him, or because she hadn't been around too many men lately, either. Wes, and Luca, and then the twins. She trusted them all, even if she was scared to death of Luca -- she knew she would trust him again, she just. . . Couldn't see when.
Hadyn shifted her weight from one fur boot to the other, looking down at the ground. The only reason that she hadn't gone to Wes yet and taken his hand or hidden herself in his strong chest was the fact that Jakob was there. She really didn't feel like having to deal with the rumors, or the odd looks, or the jabs she would get about a replacement Jaiden. She didn't know Jakob well enough to predict what he would do, but she knew it probably wouldn't be good.
So, when Wes asked what was up, she just shrugged and said, "Nah. I don't really know what I'm doing. Just--" she glanced to Jakob; she would have said 'just about to go outside', but she didn't like the fact that it would probably give him the notion she was following his orders -- "taking a walk," she finished, pale blue eyes returning to her friend.
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Jakob Stevenson
Hufflepuff
6th Year
"Oh, you can't help that," said the Cat "we're all mad here. I'm mad. You're mad."
Posts: 189
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Post by Jakob Stevenson on Feb 10, 2009 0:59:51 GMT -5
Jakob blinked at her, did she think he was a fool? Was she really so arrogant that she had to dance around words with him. He wasnt anything of special interest. Nor was he anything to be noticed. Most people considered him a decoration in the long line of Hufflepuff doormats. Just another busy bee wearing his black and yellow coat. He frowned inside, thinking about how insignificant he really felt.
"That little brat. That horrid little child!" A voice rang out in Jakobs head. His eyes became wide, the pupils obviously dialated with fear fo the noise. "She's afraid of /you/, thats what you think? NO YOU IDIOT! No one wants to be around you! Its that simple. Your as horrid as a stink root and smellier still" A pill had been popped into his mouth. A very subtle move to keep his mind shut up in a box, wrapped up in drugs. The voices were supposed to stop overall if he took the medicine right, but all it did was shut them up, and then make them louder when they returned.
The blonde head was hung in momentary shame. What poor soul could not keep hold of his own mind. Emotions were easy enough to control , why not thoughts? Jakob shuddered outwardly as he remembered the insanity wards of Saint Mungos, and the promises of his dead grandfather.
It didn't take long for Jakob to realize that he had been lapsing in his usual mask. He stood upright again, hopping the pair hadn't noticed that he was not nearly as stable, or happy, as he appeared. A genuine smile adorned his lips, a soft sweet kind that reassured small children that what they had done wasn't as bad as they though. Some people know how to fake emotions, Jakob could actually turn them on and off, like a spigot. He felt very grand, and wanted to throw up for it. Preforming a switch up from the down-troden emotions was never a good idea, it caused illness of both the stomach and the conscience.
So he smiled sincerely at the two, happy as he could be, happier than he ought to have been. He felt guilty for having been able to muster it, and dizzy for having taken his medicine 12 hour medicine 6 hours to soon. The cat by his side mewled in remorse for her master, what an idiot he could be.
(OOC: Ok so i am trying to make my posts more up to speed, or plot wised correct, or anything. So please if anyone has any feed back theyd like to give me, please please please, pm me. I like to try and make things as correct as they need to be)
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Post by Wes Borgin on Feb 10, 2009 12:03:55 GMT -5
"The British revere those who conquer the lands of the weak, or drive out the poor, it sickens me"
Well then, Wes thought, sorry he'd asked. Though he knew the comment wouldn't offend Hadyn, he found it a little strange that someone would preach against the British in a British school. At Durmstrang, maybe. Or Beauxbatons, he was sure they had a lot to say if they looked at history. But, things shouldn't be said at Hogwarts.
"I'm Scottish originally so..." he said, rubbing the back of his head with his blistered hand. Mostly to hide his hand from sight and partially because he had know idea what to do. He soon realized that telling him that would've been pointless. From his thirty odd years in America he had lost his accent taking on a somewhat southern accent, though it was hard to tell. It definitely wasn't Scottish anymore.
Just taking a walk
"Ah...yes....a walk is always nice," he mumbled, more as a space filler than anything.
He looked over at Jakob again, a movement catching his sharp eyes. Pill popping? Right here? That was odd. But, apparently he didn't care who saw. Maybe he did this on a regular basis. Wes wouldn't know. He was rarely in the common room. Mostly just in the mornings to change and for about an hour at night to gather things to do his homework then bath. He'd change into sweats he used as pajamas and then he would start his nightly trek up to the slaughter house that was on the edge of the forbidden forest where all the pigs and cows and other farm animals used to feed the wide number of Hogwarts students.
Just that tiny little thought of his routine schedule sent his two front canines tingling with anticipation. He ran his tongue carefully over them, putting them at ease for the moment.
[Just a little note. Wes isn't afraid of Peeves. Just a little irratated with him]
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Post by Hadyn Bryant on Feb 11, 2009 20:52:45 GMT -5
Hadyn looked down at the floor when Wes spoke, eyes downcast, and long blonde hair slipping over her face. She didn't know quite what to say -- the situation had turned awkward, with the three of them. She knew Wes and Stevenson were in the same house, but they didn't seem to know each other too well. She shared a comfortingly shy smile with Wes -- forced and strained, but still there -- and looked away again, arms wrapped around her thin waist.
The awkwardness was quite palpable, but the memories were becoming a little overbearing. They were running amuck in Hadyn's head, and it was making it harder and harder to keep a neutral expression. For fear she would let fear, or trepidation, or anger, or intimidation become more prominent on her countenance, she glanced back at the mightiest suit of armor in the hall. It was really starting to get to her, as several things slid through her mind, dark fingers reaching out to take her in -- Joey's smirking face, as he watched his friend, Royce, leer down at her in a mockingly, and held her tightly -- and when a man of Royce King's stature held you firmly, a little girl of her height and weight wasn't going anywhere, unless he wanted them to. The feel of Luca's hands sliding down her body made her shudder slightly, and it was one memory that kept her in control, although barely -- Jaiden's arms wound tightly around her kept her from the brink, and it was with little self-control she announced to her company, "I, uhm -- I have to go," and she started forward.
Hadyn walked past Jakob, avoiding his eyes, and did the same to Wes. She would have given the latter an apologetic glance, but she was too scared they were tearing up. If Wes hadn't noticed by now, the tears that would probably leak out of her eyes, induced by this hall, would give her right away.
So, eyes averted, she started away.
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Post by Violet Hayes on Feb 26, 2009 17:18:12 GMT -5
Violet walked quickly, her eyes downcast, and an armload of books clutched close. She was in a hurry to get back to her dorm and begin her studies. So much in a hurry, that she wasn't watching where she was going, and she ran head on into Hadyn, dropping her books and falling to the floor.
Sniffling, she picked up her books and apologized repeatedly, and energetically.
"I'm so sorry! Please forgive me! It was my fault; I wasn't paying attention to my way! I'm so, so sorry!" She, as was her reputation, didn't know anything else to say becuase she had never really gotten to know anyone, even in her own house.
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