Jessica Hayles

April 27, 2019 11:14 PM

Brand New Day by Jessica Hayles

Jessica stopped at the edge of the Gardens, starting to smooth her hands over the front of her trousers but then remembering that she had a letter in one hand and might crumple it if she was not careful. Instead, then, she bit her lips, brown eyes darting from one side of the path to the other uncertainly, before she ventured to take a step into the Labyrinth.

The Labyrinth itself only, after all this time, frightened her a little - indeed, since she had come back from the holidays, she had often come out here of her own volition to do most of her crying, blessedly away from people for just a few minutes. Even before The Catastrophe, however, she had been compelled at times to come out here for classes, and for exercise - she had imagined Mommy and Daddy would be displeased if she came home fat and weak and so had tried to at least keep up vigorous, if necessarily, due to the fear of getting lost, short and circular ones. Now, however, she had a mission, and it was going to involve one of the things she found hardest to get used to in her new surroundings: dealing with wild animals that could very easily scratch her eyes out.

Dear Mommy and Daddy, she had written,

I haven't heard from you in so long, I'm afraid you've forgotten about me. I know you must be busy with the company and Uncle Jason and everything. I have been writing a lot, and tried to think of something for Uncle Jason....

In fact, she had written some lines about her uncle's situation, mostly saying that if his associations made Uncle Jason like a pig wearing lipstick, his political opponent was like that pig's butthole, with lipstick on the wrong end. As this was very rude, however, she had kept those lines to herself, afraid to show them to her parents. They didn't know she could think such things and she thought it was better for everyone that this state of affairs, if it was the only one which could hold, remained intact.

It was for the same reason that she had told her parents a flat-out lie. She had barely written anything since she had come back to school. She tried, but it all just felt...empty. Nobody would listen when she said anything with her mouth, so what was the point of using her pen? And anyway - was there even anything to say, now that she had no plans for life, no goals, no reasons? Most people floated through life for no good reason, creatures in a realm somewhere between cows and clockwork, and that was why most people never wrote poetry. A poet had to say something, otherwise it was all a waste of ink.

Her letter, too, was a waste of ink - a massive one, as it had gone through at least five drafts. The first ones had been angry, then angry and hysterical, and it was only after she had gotten all that out that she had struck upon a much better plan: writing a very normal letter just so she could brave the owls and send it to her parents, thereby inflicting said owls on them. It wasn't the tenth part as unkind as what they had done to her, but it was something she knew they wouldn't like, and such pettiness....

Well, she didn't want to think about that. She hated herself when she did, for lowering herself to this, but she hadn't been able to think of anything better to do yet and so did the only thing she could think of. She really was going as bovine as most, she supposed - when she thought about it. But she didn't want to think about that.

Her progress was fairly steady, composed, and she was making good time toward the owlery when she hesitated for a moment to double-check her memory of which way to go. As she did that, she heard a rustling in the bushes to her side, and froze.

The source of the rustling did not. Instead, before she could even begin to convince herself it was just another student, or a bird in the hedge, and not a Minotaur coming to eat her like the Athenians who had preceded Theseus, the source of the rustling emerged into the courtyard. Jessica took one look at it and screamed, stumbling backward, wanting to run but afraid to turn her back to do so -

The thing - almost humanoid, but not, with sharp teeth it was displaying in what might have been fear or rage or anything for all she knew - did not advance; it could not. Suddenly, the air between them was filled with sparks, golden flecks of light with no obvious source. The thing howled and retreated, fleeing back the way it had come.

Jessica, meanwhile - still half-frozen with terror - sank to sit on the ground as she tried to catch her breath. Slowly, she stopped being afraid of the thing, and more afraid of the realization that she must have been the source of the sparks which had seemed to cause it pain. She had not wanted to do that - she cried over rat-traps, privately, at home - and she did not know how she had done that, but what else could it be? It was just like when she had sealed her door shut at home and not known how she'd done it or how to do undo it, and that was terrifying, too - not just the loss of control, but her hag of a dorm mother said, too, that not being able to control this stuff would kill her eventually -

She looked up from the gravel abruptly, staring straight ahead. Her expression was blank, but her mind was working furiously. Shock had raised her out of her constant pall of fear and sadness, and she felt as though she were thinking without a veil on for the first time in months.

It could be controlled. There were spells Hawthorne taught them which were essentially throwing painful sparks at things, or so it looked to Jessica. Therefore, logically, she could learn to do whatever it was she had just done deliberately, aiming it on purpose, not just when she felt immediately threatened. Furthermore, they wouldn't have a whole class about the Dark Arts, with those horrifying pictures in the books, if there weren't far worse things than sparks which she could produce, if she learned to control it. Further evidence was the existence of that restricted section in the library. Part of it no doubt was just a consequence of living among uncivilized primitives, but part of it might be....anything.

She looked at her hands as though she had never seen them before. She could, quite possibly, do anything.

Selina Skies had ruined her life...and given her a priceless piece of information, one she could only assume, after all her pointless, airy-fairy, so-called 'lessons,' that she was not supposed to have. The reason it had to be controlled was because it could do harm. Jessica had just proven this statement for herself, so it wasn't just Skies and her uneducated superstitions saying it.

These airy-fairy, so-called 'lessons' were the height of uselessness...except that they could teach her to control it. To use it.

And now, with all her plans derailed and smashed to bits against the train station wall, Jessica couldn't really say she had anything better to do.

They wanted her to use this - energy processing disorder, this power, whatever one wanted to call it, did they? Well, then, she would. Against them.

These people - and, first among them, Selina Skies - were going to pay for ruining her life. With interest.

OOC: If you've ever seen Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog, then yes, I was listening to the song I stole this title from while I wrote this.
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Lyssa Fitzgerald

May 15, 2019 2:53 PM

No Day But Today by Lyssa Fitzgerald

Dirt, wind and animals. A smile was spread over Lyssa’s face as she walked back towards the school. She was in her happy place out here in the Gardens surrounded by these things. She knew somewhere around here was where Parker got into his house, but he’d never told her exactly where. A piece of her was jealous that she didn’t have to walk to and from the garden every day, but then again, when it was rainy she could stay inside all day and not have to run through it.

This year had been odd to be sure, she’d tried to learn more about the wizarding world and in the process had made some people angry. Though they were stupid so she didn't care much. Still, it had better than her first year and Parker’s odd introduction to the school and then subsequent silence towards her. Lyssa was finding that Sonora Academy of Witchcraft and Wizardry was not what she’d expected, but not a terrible place either. It was, well, a school.

She was out for a walk before doing some studying since the gardening club was waiting, and Lyssa hadn’t actually started a debate club. Though maybe next year. The feel of the wind in her hair and the sun on her cheeks calmed her though. Reminding her to focus on the here and now. To focus on her breath. To relax. That is until she heard a scream.

At first Lyssa thought she’d imagined it before realizing no, she had most assuredly not imagined it and that it was real. It sounded like someone who was hurt or in trouble and without thinking Lyssa started running towards it.

What would cause someone to yell out loud like that? Where there creatures hiding in the garden that could attack students? She was sure that the staff would not allow that, nor would they allow students to be housed out here if that were the case. Still, she got out her wand as she ran. She didn’t know what she could do, but it was always better safe than sorry at this school she was realizing.

She rounded the corner to find a girl standing there looking straight ahead. Coming in on the side Lyssa faintly remembered that this girl was in another house and was quiet. She’d realized that people outside of her family were all quiet by comparison, still there was something in the girls manner that made Lyssa stop before reaching her.

The girl was looking at her hands as if she’d done something horrible, or maybe had something horrible done to them. Tried to look from where she was to see if the girls hands had blood on them, but there didn’t seem to be anything.

In the distance Lyssa could hear the owlery carried on the wind to where they were standing, there was no other sound, and as far as Lyssa could see nothing else around. She brought her wand down to her side and took a step towards the girl.

“Excuse me,” Lyssa started, “I don’t mean to frighten you, but I heard a scream, are you ok?”
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Jessica

May 15, 2019 8:23 PM

And the sun is high. by Jessica

Jessica jumped - visibly flinched back - when a voice suddenly said excuse me, and then flushed when she realized she had just acted like a head case in front of another person.

"I - I - I mean, yes, of course," she said, recovering only at length, then wondering if of course would seem rude in context. Obviously it wasn't obvious that she was okay - physically at least. If it had been, the other girl would not have asked the question. Unless the other girl just wasn't very smart. Or said things just to be polite, which seemed like it wasn't smart, but actually was, because people expected it. Or....

Jessica struggled to organize her ideas, to focus on what was going on in front of her instead of on the revelation, and the eagerness to run to figure out how to make her new dream a reality. Talking to this girl was not going to help her bring this whole 'world' to heel...but she had been raised to be polite. Half her life had been spent training to be an executive, but the other half had been dedicated to looking like a proper Southern lady.

"I'm sorry," she said. "There was a...thing. I don't know what it was, but it surprised me, and I guess I hollered at it - I'm sorry if I scared you." She tucked her hair back behind her ear. "It's gone now," she added helpfully. "We're in the same classes, aren't we? I'm Jessica."
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