Prairie appropriate athletics [Third, fourth, and fifth year by Professor Lilac Brockert
Without ever really announcing, it was still fairly obvious that Lilac and her husband Seth were expecting. By now, it would have been impossible to hide, not that she wanted to. She was quite proud of her new, growing family, even at the cost of her waistline. She’d find her way back to her old wardrobe eventually, and for now, she tried her best to enjoy the ride, as difficult as it was sometimes; it seemed like a professional soccer team was trapped in her womb.Speaking of soccer, a collection of soccer balls took residence in the Transfiguration classroom on this fine day, one per student. The balls were of course inflated, and it had taken some effort to make sure none were about to roll off. The brown-haired professor pulled open the door, what with class a few minutes away, before returning to her seat. Her students knew how to enter without her hovering there, plus any minute off of her feet was appreciated.
The patter of feet stole the thirty-year-old professor’s attention, and soon enough, it quieted down, with every pair beneath a desk. “Welcome, everyone,” grinned Lilac. “Today, there are soccer balls on your desks. In case any of you don’t know, soccer is a Muggle sport.” She kicked one out from underneath her personal desk and into the air, bouncing it on her knee gently for a moment before grasping it with her left hand.
Her right hand aimed her wand. “Listen closely,” she instructed. “Amadgio.” A purple jet shot from the tip of her wand, and what was formerly a soccer ball was now a small armadillo, squirming nervously about in her hand. On the board behind her were—as usual—the basic notes, giving the pronunciation (ahm-ah-GEE-oh) and its function.
“Work on getting your soccer balls to become armadillos,” Lilac continued, “and then, if you have time, you might want to begin brainstorming.” Pause for dramatic effect. “I’m giving you an extended assignment, but you’ll have the rest of the year to complete it. I want three feet of parchment on what you’ve learned this year and what the practicality of it all was. I assure you; even my ‘silliest’ lessons have had purpose.” A mischievous something flickered in her grey eyes. “On the essays, you may work together so long as each of you turns in a copy.”
“If no one has any questions on Amadgio, you may go ahead and begin. On the essays, I will be accepting questions one-on-one at basically any time during the school day, so come see me.” She nodded mostly to herself, mentally confirming she had covered everything. Remembering one thing, she added, “Oh, and please, do be gentle with the armadillos. They frighten rather easily.” On that note, she set them lose to work.
OOC: I’m sure by now, you big kids know all the rules. Long, descriptive posts get points for your House. Godmodding and grammatical errors—not so much. If you could, please put your character’s House in your author box. It’s super handy for me when giving out points. Tag Lilac if she’s needed, and try to enjoy yourselves. Happy posting!
Subthreads: I'm doomed by Sullivan Quincy, Pecari with Jhonice Trevear, Pecari, Sullivan Quincy, Sully
Athletics I wouldn't avoid. by Maximilian Joshua McLachlan - Aladren with Valentina Bentancourt, Josh McLachlan, Valentina - Teppenpaw
I like sports by Derry Four, Teppenpaw with Nora Dobson, Aladren
Relieved by Ryan O'Malley, Crotalus with Addison Thornton, Teppenpaw
Oh dear, this is not good. by Brianna Japos, Crotalus with Paul Bennett, Crotalus, Brianna
Hi, I'm Eliza, and I think I'm going to lose it soon.... by Eliza Bennett, Crotalus with Valerie Lennox, Crotalus, Eliza
Crunchy on the outside, smooth on the inside. by Michael Grosvenor with Mellie Goodwin, Pecari
Supposedly, no athletics are appropriate for a lady. by Hope Brockert, Teppenpaw
Soccerballs and armadillos by Arista Thornton, Teppenpaw
Class closed (nm) by Prof. B.
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Professor Lilac Brockert
Prairie appropriate athletics [Third, fourth, and fifth year
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Professor Lilac Brockert
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5
I'm doomed by Sullivan Quincy, Pecari
There were a number of things Sullivan Quincy was not good at. Transfiguration was one of them. Sports was another one of them. Walking into the Transfiguration classroom and seeing soccer balls was not a promising start to the lesson. He settled into a chair, picking one that was neither too far forward so the Professor wouldn't be able to see how badly he was doing too easily, and not too far back because his eyeglasses prescription was probably a year out of date and he sometimes had trouble reading the board or seeing the professor's spell demonstrations if he sat too far in the back, and not just because he was suddenly among the youngest, and therefore shortest, students in his grade level again.The third year Pecari got out his wand, parchment for notes (parchment was cool), and pen (quills were cool, too, but ball-point pens generally did not result in great globs of ink everywhere like quills did for him). He knocked the soccer ball off his desk twice but managed to recover it both times without serious embarrassment.
The third time was somewhat more mortifying because it happened during the lecture, and while he was trying to trap it with his feet and roll it back to him, he managed to kick it into the leg of the person sitting next to him, but he eventually got it back under his control and just held it in his lap after that so it didn't roll away again.
And then things got worse. There would be a semester-long essay to write. The only thing Sully was worse at than transfiguration or sports was essay-writing. Well, essay writing and telling the difference between white rat's fur and unicorn hair in potions, never mind all the different leaves or feathers. But that, fortunately, was not something he was going to have to deal with this lesson.
Just soccer balls, armadillos and essays.
With a sigh of resigned defeat, Sully put his soccer ball back on his desk (holding it with one hand so it didn't try to run away for a fourth time) and picked up his wand. "Ama Geo," he cast, pointing his ten inches of elder wood at the ball.
There was a weak pulse of a kind of pale lavendar energy that shot from his wand to the ball, but if it had any effect, Sully couldn't see it.
Looking over at his neighbor, he started with an apology. "Sorry about kicking the ball into you earlier." Then he addressed the more immediate lesson, "Are you having any luck?"
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Sullivan Quincy, Pecari
I'm doomed
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Sullivan Quincy, Pecari
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5
Maximilian Joshua McLachlan - Aladren
June 20, 2012 5:10 PM
Athletics I wouldn't avoid. by Maximilian Joshua McLachlan - Aladren
Five minutes early to class. It was nice to be back to his regular schedule. The holiday was horribly long and boring with absolutely nothing to do. Of course, he had taken long walks through the gardens, had gotten aquainted with the Labryinth Gardens especially, and had poured over the books in the library. He had been working on his spells and potions in his empty room as well. It had been rather nice having an entire dorm room to himself. He was glad that classes were beginning again, though. If nothing else, the Aladren loved to learn.He sat down at an empty desk in the center of the classroom; it was perfect for him to see what was going on and also avoid having the professor talk to him directly. There were round balls on the desk which he examined curiously with grey eyes. Transfiguration was always an interesting subject, though Professor Brockert was sometimes a little too enthusiastic about the subject for his taste.
Class finally began and he paid acute attention. He wrote down the strange spell as well as the pronunciation. Copying down the exact notes on the board took a little while, but he finished by the time she started talking about their extended assignment. The thought of a project excited Josh slightly. Things had been looking up since Cecilia had sent him that long letter over the holiday. Maybe it was his attitude towards his otherwise cursed life till now that changed.
Being related to the family who did more than just dabble in dark magic and being an outcast both in Australia at his old school and here at Sonora had not been his choice, but that's how things had turned out. Josh knew that he had to make things right here, though. The rest of his life was going to be surrounded by the dark cloud once his uncle kicked him out of the house. Josh had no parents and so had no inheritance to look foward to. When he turned seventeen, he would be on his own and the thought both frightened and delighted him. As for now, he would have to learn as much as he could and not gain enemies on the way.
Josh decided to start brainstorming for his project later. First, to turn this soccer ball into an armadillo. He pointed his wand and did well to follow the instructions. He was meticulous when it came to wandwork and potions which was part of the reason why he had such a talent for both. "Amadgio," he said curtly, watching as the purple jet came from his wand and engulfed the soccer ball. The ball rolled slightly and gained the tail of an armadillo. He blinked at it and cleared his throat, his unfriendly eyebrows frowning. "Amadgio," he said again, this time focusing his mind and his body into the spell. There was the familiar feeling of magic going through his body and the image of an armadillo in his head. The ball was transfigured into an armadillo, but the poor creature couldn't walk correctly. Something had gone wrong, but he wasn't exactly sure how to change it back.
Josh furiously flipped through his textbook for the counter-spell. With a flick of his wand, the armadillo was a soccer ball again. He should remember the spell to turn all things back into their original forms. He readied himself again. Since his voice had changed to a much deeper sound, his voice had taken on a husky tone. That had gone away some now, and all that was left was the deep voice still coated with a Scottish accent tinged with Australian. Unique. "Amadgio," he said, and the armadillo appeared all rolled up. It poked its head out, blinking, and unraveled. It took a few wobbly steps and Josh quickly scribbled down the exact feelings and steps that he had taken. Then the next time he could perform this spell correctly again.
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Maximilian Joshua McLachlan - Aladren
Athletics I wouldn't avoid.
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Maximilian Joshua McLachlan - Aladren
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5
Valentina Bentancourt
June 24, 2012 11:08 PM
Sports are nice by Valentina Bentancourt
Valentina had a lot of things to think about in the upcoming days. The concert was coming, and she wasn’t near ready for it. The Spaniard had started practicing more, but the months of procrastination had taken their toll. She was out of shape, and she didn’t like it. Not to mention that Madame Dupont was going to eat her alive. That woman lived, ate and slept ballet, and she didn’t understand anything outside of it. The fifth-year had been like that before she had started dating Marcus. Her boyfriend had become a welcomed distraction, and Valentina had found herself spending as much time as she could with him. Marcus had unconsciously become the center of her life.The blue-eyed girl wasn’t very proud of how her life had been focused on her boyfriend, because it was important to maintain a balance of everything, and her life had a lot to balance. Valentina had dancing, singing, studying and her boyfriend, but she had been too wrapped in the happiness that came from being around Marcus that nothing else mattered. Even her studies had suffered.
She sighed at the prospect of hearing her mother lecture her about her poor performance in every aspect of her life, but there was nothing she could do now. The damage had been done. Her mother was going to help her out with her father, she was sure of that, and Valentina was hoping she didn’t have to deal with him in the very near future. That was the epitome of everything that wasn’t fun. Explaining to her father that a boy was involved would cause quite the riot in her house, especially because of his background. Her mother had approved, but Emiliana was more liberal than her father.
The Teppenpaw yawned as she entered the class. She didn’t do anything to stifle it, because she had a rough night and had barely slept. Valentina rubbed her eyes and looked around to see if anyone she knew could help her out. She didn’t see anyone, but the new kid was alone. She thought it would be nice to say hi, especially because both of them were foreigners and he could help her with the class.
She went to him, “Hi! I hope you don’t mind the company or helping me out.” Valentina smiled at the boy. “I am Valentina Bentancourt.”
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Valentina Bentancourt
Sports are nice
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Valentina Bentancourt
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Derry Four, Teppenpaw
June 25, 2012 9:25 PM
I like sports by Derry Four, Teppenpaw
Derry wasn't exactly an observant sort of person. If something directly concerned him and it was pointed out to him, he would probably notice something like, as an entirely random example, a teacher being pregnant. Professor Crosby was his Head of House, so he thought of her as one of the professors most directly concerned with him. However, nobody had pointed anything out to him - either because it was impolite to mention a woman's weight or simply because they thought he had eyes and could see for himself - so he went through all of last term without picking up on the fact that his Transfiguration professor was getting rounder about the middle.Upon return from his midterm break, however, Professor Crosby's actual appearance and his expectation of her appearance differed enough that he figured out something had changed. He couldn't quite put his finger on it though. She seemed very happy, though, so he thought she must surely have either gotten a haircut or bought new shoes. Possibly both.
This settled, he turned his attention to the white balls with black spots on them that were sitting on each of the desks. He could almost recognize the type of ball from his previous summer in Boston. He had mostly played baseball with new friends, but they had tried to teach him a couple other sports as well. He thought this one might be the volleyball. Volleyball had been fun, too, but another look around the classroom did not reveal any nets, and he tried not to let his disappointment show.
It was unsurprising, really, that the ball (soccer, it turned out, which was close, Derry thought, as that one also had nets) was only there so they could change it into something else. This was a class about transfiguration after all.
Derry dutifully copied down the spellword and other assorted notes from the board (leaning forward and squinting a little to make out the words since he'd forgotten his eyeglasses again today) and checking his neighbor's notes to make sure he'd gotten the incantation's spelling right. The other words could be (and were) misspelled without dire effect, but if he got the spellword wrong, there would be real problems. He changed the q on his paper to a g and decided he really ought to make more of an effort to remember his glasses tomorrow.
The extended assignment was not particularly good news, but Derry figured he could muddle through it like he did most of the essays he wrote for this class and others. He figured he would probably work with Reggie on it a little. In the meantime, though, he wasn't going to worry about it. First, he was going to focus on turning a soccer ball into an armadillo.
"Okay, here goes," he said, in equal parts to his nearest neighbor and to himself. "Amadgio," Derry cast, pointing his wand at the soccer ball. A purple flash of magic shot from the wood to the nearest black leather pentagon on the soccer ball. The ball kind of drooped a little, and a tail fell away from main sphere. Slowly, the rest of it began to uncurl into an armadillo. The difference, of course, being that this one was still white with black spots in stitched five sided polygons.
"Oops," Derry said, "Sorry about that, buddy," he apologized to the armadillo, then looked over at his neighbor's work. "Did you do any better?"
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Derry Four, Teppenpaw
I like sports
189
Derry Four, Teppenpaw
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5
Jhonice Trevear, Pecari
June 25, 2012 10:59 PM
I don't think you are alone by Jhonice Trevear, Pecari
This was not going to be a good term. Jhonice was back, but she was not focusing on class. She had missed the opening feast and only had arrived late last night. She didn't want to be here, but her parents thought it would be best for her to try and get some sort of normalcy again. So, she trudged her way to transfigurations. The fact that it was not her favorite class was not helping. She was one of the last ones into the classroom, found an empty seat and pulled out her notebook and stuff.Partway through the lecture the person next to her kicked her. That was all she needed on top of everything yet, she turned to glare at whoever it was and discovered Sullivan Quincy of the California Pierces next to her. She bit her tongue and attempted to focus back on the lecture, she failed. In the end she just pushed the ball around on the desk a bit with the tip of her wand.
Sullivan then addressed her. He was apologizing for something, oh yeah the kick. She just shrugged and pushed her ball around a bit more, it rolled off the desk. Finally she glanced in his direction, "Don't worry about it." Then she sighed, "I guess I should get to work..." looking around she tried to find her ball. "What exactly are we doing with them again?"
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Jhonice Trevear, Pecari
I don't think you are alone
209
Jhonice Trevear, Pecari
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Nora Dobson, Aladren
June 26, 2012 3:05 PM
I can take them or leave them. by Nora Dobson, Aladren
Transfiguration was full of the kind of new experiences that Nora enjoyed. It was always a surprise what they were going to be learning on a given day, and that-not running around in potentially dangerous situations-was her kind of adventure. This was the kind of curiosity that Nora possessed.Besides, she was good at it. Her grandmother-even though she was completely driven insane by Nora's evil grandfather now-had still been a Brockert after all. The Aladren was certain that Transfiguration was at least partially how the Brockerts conquered the west. She was certain that there was a long trail of Native Americans and settlers who had become desert creatures.
Of course, Nora was good at all her classes. She had a nearly perfect GPA. It wasn't simply what was expected of her by anyone including herself, it was just what she enjoyed. The third year knew that the best way to ruin things was to put pressure on someone either external or internal. Nora did well in school because she genuinely enjoyed learning.
It was clear to the Aladren as she sat down that Professor Brockert-how perfect was it for a Brockert to marry a Transfiguration professor, she'd fit in nicely in that respect-was pregnant. Nora was the very observant sort, she'd noticed Autumn's weight loss, Hope's crush on Russell Layne-and most certainly this. There would be a new family member soon enough, albeit not as closely related to Nora as Connor had been.
She also noticed the....well, she supposed they were balls. They were spherical objects like those used to play Quidditch, but not. Logically-and she was a very logical person-Nora knew that they probably were not going to be using them in whatever normal capacity they were intended for.
And she was right. Which was satisfying, of course, the third year liked being so-and was a good majority of the time. Quite frankly, Nora was also glad that they would be turning what the professor had referred to as soccer balls, into armadillos, instead of wasting class time on some sport. Especially given that doing so was not Transfiguration and would serve no purpose.
Nora withdrew her wand and did the correct motion, "Amadgio." The Aladren said, pronouncing the spell perfectly. It wasn't perfect, but it shifted to gray and grew a tail. However, it did not come to life, and appeared to be the texture of the soccer ball yet. Nora could probably bounce and kick it if she were so inclined. Not that she really was. Besides she didn't want Hope on her back about cruelty to animals.
The third year looked to Derry Pierce's work when he commented on it. "I'm not really sure." She wanted to believe hers was better, family and House pride and all, and he'd never impressed her as one of the most brilliant fourth years, but really his wasn't bad. "I think we just had them end up in different ways that are both pretty near equal. Not complete, but we both did something."
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Nora Dobson, Aladren
I can take them or leave them.
197
Nora Dobson, Aladren
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5
Sullivan Quincy
June 26, 2012 9:28 PM
Sharing the misery by Sullivan Quincy
At first, Sully didn't even realize the person sitting next to him was Jhonice. She wasn't acting Jhonice-like. She had shown little to no interest in him, the content of his notes, or his as-yet-unaltered soccer ball. This would ordinarily be dismissed as normal behavior but he was dealing with Jhonice Trevear. Jhonice Trevear analyzed everything he did, everything he wrote, everything he said, every breath he took for some kind of secret evidence that he was, in fact, Simon Tellerman's son.That she currently had no interest in him whatsoever was baffling, shocking, wrong, and quite frankly a little terrifying and even a little disappointing. It wasn't that he wanted her to be stalking and hounding his every step, but . . . but . . . he was supposed to be more interesting to her than a lesson she clearly hadn't listened to the first time through.
"Turning it into an armadillo," he told her, answering the question of what they were supposed to be doing, but unable to leave it at that. "Are you okay? You seem . . . " he tried to figure out exactly what kind of mood she was in - detached, uninspired, unexcited, listless, depressed, disengaged, disinterested, dispirited, apathetic, everything that was not Jhonice - "off."
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Sullivan Quincy
Sharing the misery
207
Sullivan Quincy
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5
Ryan O'Malley, Crotalus
June 27, 2012 6:04 PMRyan O'Malley, Crotalus
AlumnusHouse: Crotalus
Written by: Allegra Brockert
Age in Post: 15
Birthday: January 10
Relieved by Ryan O'Malley, Crotalus
Transfiguration was Ryan's favorite class. First of all, it was the one and only thing in the entire world that he thought he was at least sort of good at. Secondly, the professor was his aunt. And step-aunt. People might think that was weird, as purebloods tended to marry for connections-and they had multiple ones to the Crosbys. But, apparently, Jamie and Aunt Lilac's family married for love-and one really couldn't help who they loved. Furthermore, his father was not a Brockert. He was an O'Malley.Ryan thought that was nice anyway. He wanted to marry someone that he loved and that loved him-though the Crotalus knew the latter was impossible. Who would ever love Ryan ? His own mother couldn't. He would be lucky if someone wanted him for his family name and money.
Another thing he liked about Transfig was that the professor actually seemed to like him despite his generally being worthless and having a sister who had made um, quite an impression on some of the staff. Ryan was more convinced than ever that his Head of House hated him after the incident with Carrie in flying.
He looked at the desks. Under other circumstances, Ryan might have viewed the unfamiliar spherical objects placed there with suspicion, if this had been Charms or DADA for example. However, this was Transfiguration, and thus, even with the limited IQ he believed himself to have, Ryan could pretty much figure out that they were going to be transfigured into something .
And the fifth year was correct. They would be turning the soccer balls into armadillos. He had no idea what soccer was other than Aunt Lilac telling them it was a muggle sport. As Ryan wasn't even capable of getting his broom off the ground in order to play wizard sports, he was rather relieved to not be playing this one either. Doing non living to living transfiguration sounded much much simpler, plus he wouldn't have to worry about Valerie either.
Ryan examined the odd ball and tried to imagine it becoming an armadillo, picturing the color and texture of the animal-well what he thought was the texture, he didn't have any sort of experience with armadillos-and when he was satisfied, drew out his wand and did the appropriate motions. "Amadgio" .
The result was a lopsided gray thing with an armadillo's head, feet and tail with the body of a soccer ball. It's legs moved and Ryan felt some satisfaction, as his neighbor looked over him. Now he was a bit self-conscious, if he'd done better,they might resent him and if he'd done worse, they might make fun of him and knock down any good feeling he'd had. Ryan gave them a polite smile. "How are you doing?" The Crotalus asked.
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Ryan O'Malley, Crotalus
Relieved
176
Ryan O'Malley, Crotalus
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5
Addison Thornton, Teppenpaw
June 27, 2012 8:35 PM
Are you? I'm not... by Addison Thornton, Teppenpaw
Addison walked into the first Transfiguration class back from their holiday and was truly surprised at what their professor looked like. It was now obvious to her (as her mother had been just recently looking like this) that Professor Crosby-Brockert was pregnant. Addi grinned at her favorite professor and made a note on her paper in front of her to tell her Congratulations later on that day once class was finished.She couldn’t help but notice as she looked at their professor, that there were inflated soccer balls all over as the Transfigurations Professor welcomed them into the room. Addi wondered what the balls were for, but also knew that she’d be able to know as soon as the professor told them. When it was shown and explained to them that they were going to be making their soccer balls into small armadillos she looked in wonderment at her ball. Sure, she was a fourth year now, but that didn’t mean that she thought she could make something that wasn’t living into something that was quite yet. Yes, Transfig was her favorite class, but she still wasn’t so good at it. She blamed her stupid fear of people and failure for that, and had vowed to change her whole persona. Why not start now? she thought as the basic notes were spotted by her eyes on the board behind their teacher.
When the teacher went on to tell them about their extended assignment, Addi’s heart thudded in her chest. Three feet of parchment on what we’ve learned? she thought as Professor Brockert went on to tell them that they can work together as long as each student had a copy. She automatically glanced towards her older sister, Arista, but Ris looked away from her. A scowl crept up her face as she realized that unless one of her roommates wanted to work with her that she’d have to do it all alone.
Unless someone else wanted to...?
She was sure that Arista was still mad at her for what she’d done over vacation and she was almost sure that her roommates weren’t her biggest fans. Well, somethings going to have to change. she thought to herself as she spotted one of her roommates not too far away. She wanted to ask one of them to work with her but Ryan, sitting next to her did the spell they were supposed to do and she turned to watch.
The result of the spell was a lopsided gray thing with the odd animal's head, feet and tail with the body of the soccer ball. "Good job!" she said to him. He asked how she was doing and she looked from him to her soccer ball and wand.
"Uhm..." She started, worried she'd screw up. "Wanna work together on this? Maybe the essay too?” she asked him.
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Addison Thornton, Teppenpaw
Are you? I'm not...
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Addison Thornton, Teppenpaw
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5
Jhonice Trevear
June 27, 2012 10:30 PM
It loves company, right? by Jhonice Trevear
"An armadillo... yeah sure, why not." She sighed apathetically glancing around for her ball. She saw it, it was to far away, somewhere in Derwent Pierce IV's vicinity. "We'll have to use your ball, mine is gone." She pointed at the ball and muttered in a flat voice, "Abracadillo." Unsurprisingly nothing happened. She put down her quill, which was in fact not her wand, and sat back in her chair. She couldn't focus on class, she couldn't focus on school, she couldn't focus period. What was she doing here? She should be back home with her...Then Sully went and opened his mouth again. "Are you okay?"
No. "No I am not 'okay'." she thought to herself, "Break had been nothing but a nightmare! It was stupid and senseless and horrible and..." she could feel the onset of tears and realized that she had been in fact not been thinking, she had said it all out loud. Not being able to hold back any longer, she buried her head in her arms and burst out in tears. She had spent so much time in just this position she had hoped she'd run out of tears by now. No such luck as they continued to pour out of her.
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Jhonice Trevear
It loves company, right?
209
Jhonice Trevear
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5
It's nice that someone appreciates them by Josh McLachlan
Josh was somewhat surprised when someone approached him. Apparently his reputation didn't keep everyone away. Which could be a good thing or a bad thing. "Do as you will. I'm Joshua McLachlan." If she cringed at his name, he wouldn't take offense to it. Back in New Zealand, most of the purebloods avoided him because of his name. His relatives in Australia, America and Europe had practiced enough dark magic to make even the name suspicious to most who knew it. When his family disowned him for whatever reason they made up, he wanted to change his name if anyone would let him."The project's a little difficult," he told her. After the closure he had gotten from Cecilia's letter, he was making more of an effort to be less standoffish and more, well, conversational. To an extent, of course. It was impossible to undo what had already been done his first term here, but he could try to be less cold to his peers. Cecilia would want that and though he couldn't ever speak to or see her again, he could be influenced by her even without her presence. The thought made his chest ache and he pushed the thoughts away quickly.
Josh performed the counter spell on his curious armadillo, then pointed at it in his textbook for Bentancourt to see. "It'd be helpful to turn objects back into their original form in case you mess up." Josh peered at her through sharp gray eyes, appraising her slightly and unconsciously as he did so. "Do you need help with the spell?"
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Josh McLachlan
It's nice that someone appreciates them
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Josh McLachlan
0
5
Oh dear, this is not good. by Brianna Japos, Crotalus
Brianna’s year so far had been rather lonely. She had moments of good times, like when Gareth sat in the Gardens with her or when her and Attoria were just giggling with each other. But those moments were few and far between. For the most part, Brianna was left alone. Because of that, she spent most of her days in solitude. Lessons were nice because they forced people to work with her, but those never went very far. She missed David. He was the only one who really seemed to want to spend time with her. The only one who really understood her. She wasn’t sure why he had left or if he’d ever come back, but these months without him had Brianna realize how much she seemed to rely on him just so that she wasn’t alone.Is this all she had in her life? She was lonely at home too. She had no friends. She had no talents. She had nothing. This concert just showed that all the more to her. Her parents won’t be coming. They couldn’t afford to take the time off of work. Brianna had nothing to offer the concert. She couldn’t act, sing, dance, or play any instruments. She didn’t know how to do proper makeup or sew. What in the world could she do to help the concert and who would ever care to really work with her?
She turned her thoughts away from the concert for the moment when Professor Brockert began the lesson. It was obvious to Brianna that her teacher was withchild; it was rather strange to Brianna that her teachers that had lives outside of the classroom, but she knew that was silly thing to really think about. She was happy for her Professor and for the gardener that they had found happiness. At least it existed somewhere.
Of course, any happiness that Brianna had for her teacher went out the door at the mention of the essay. How in the world was she supposed to discuss what she learned when half the time the lessons never made any sense to her to begin with? Brianna sighed and sank low in her chair. Oh well, she had the rest of the year to work on it.
Focusing on the lesson at hand, Brianna looked at the …soccer(?) ball and tried to remember what an armadillo looked like off the top of her head. She wasn’t sure if she had ever seen one before today to really have a grasp of them, but what could she do? Lifting her wand, Brianna took a moment to read the spell in her head and think of the way the spell worked. “Amadgio” Her voice was weak and as a result, a pale pink light shot from her wand. The moment the spell struck the ball, the ball instantly deflated. “Oh, whoops!” She said hastily, her cheeks warming as a blush crept in. How embarrassing! “Erm, do you know how to reflate the ball?” Brianna whispered to the person beside her.
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Brianna Japos, Crotalus
Oh dear, this is not good.
0
Brianna Japos, Crotalus
0
5
Paul Bennett, Crotalus
June 28, 2012 10:42 PM
Nope, I wouldn't say so by Paul Bennett, Crotalus
Paul wasn’t too sure about why where there were what looked almost like Quaffles on all the desks, or whether there was anything significant about how they were all black and white, but after a moment of thought, he decided it was probably all right. His knowledge of how his mother’s pregnancies had affected her mental state had made him view the Transfiguration teacher’s expanding waistline with something like but a little milder than horror once he figured out what it probably signified, but things had not been as bad as he had feared, and it did not seem – very – suicidal at this point to tentatively hold out hope that things would keep on not going too horribly wrong in this class.He accepted the revelation that these balls went with a Muggle sport without a blink, having by now accepted that she was unusual and sometimes brought these things in after learning about them somehow, and actually put his hands together, though he caught himself short of clapping them, when she pulled off bouncing hers around like that.
Paul thought he preferred pieces of Muggle sports equipment to armadillos, but copied down the spell dutifully anyway and then felt his face go blank when she told them to start brainstorming after using it and then paused for dramatic effect and he brainstormed about what he was supposed to be brainstorming about. Surely they were not going to have to make up a spell themselves for turning the armadillo into something else, or for Untransfiguring it, but that was the first thing to pop into his head, and he didn’t like how it refused to go away after he thought of it….
A moment later, though, he decided not to be too annoyed with it, though, because it made hearing what Professor Brockert actually had in store for them sound a little better than it would have otherwise, made it almost come as a relief just by comparison. Sure, he had no idea what the point of a good few of the lessons he had done over the year were, and was not the kind to think too reflectively about things, just to do them to get his grade if they weren’t independently interesting to him, but that was why the higher powers had invented writing skills. He’d bluff his way through it and no one probably ever be any the wiser. That was good.
He tried the spell, but was not surprised when the white portions of the ball merely began to look yellowish in response. He glanced over at Brianna’s work when she seemed dismayed over her progress. When he saw what had happened, he had to agree that she was in a tight spot whether she was a super-perfectionist or not – something that he thought he probably should know, since they’d been in the same House and year all this time, but which his mind was somehow refusing to comment on.
“I don’t think so,” he said, pressing his lips together from habit as he tried to think. He knew there was some spell he’d seen his mother use a few times to make balloons reinflate when something went wrong before the end of a party, but he couldn’t bring the incantation to mind right now. “There’s a spell, but….” He lightly bopped the side of his head to indicate his memory problem. “I guess you can try it and if it doesn’t work, get another ball from her.” He nodded toward the professor to show who he meant, since she did have at least one more.
0
Paul Bennett, Crotalus
Nope, I wouldn't say so
201
Paul Bennett, Crotalus
0
5
Yep. by Valentina - Teppenpaw
Transfiguration was the class that always gave Valentina a headache. She had to work extra hard to even scrap a passing grade and the fact that CATS were at the end of this year made her cringe. She had too much to worry about, and her mind had been wrapped around Marcus. Now that she thought about it, most of her time was centered on her boyfriend. She gulped as the full realization hit her. She was probably going to fail her CATS due to lack of study. Her mother wasn’t going to be happy about this, especially because Alex had managed to graduate and he was sort of dumb. She sighed.The Pureblood girl looked at Josh, “It is a pleasure to meet you.” Valentina had been living in the USA for a few years now, but her Spanish accent was still as present as ever. She fancied her accent as what set her apart from everyone at Sonora. There were very few foreigners, and she liked it that way. She was special in a way, and she loved feeling like that.
In the USA her family wasn’t shamed and it was a nice change to say her last name without causing people to walk away. Coming to the USA had been the best idea her father had in a long time. She still didn’t know why they had moved, but now she was happy about it. Her life had changed dramatically. Valentina even had friends in Boston.
“I hope you don’t mind helping me, Josh. I do need help in Transfiguration,” the Spaniard smiled. She needed to start studying otherwise she would need to repeat the year and that would be awful and embarrassing. The assignment that Professor Brockert had given them was rather complicated, and she was having a difficult time with it. Valentina was sure that the professor had gone crazy and decided to make their lives difficult. Her classes usually weren’t this hard.
0
Valentina - Teppenpaw
Yep.
0
Valentina - Teppenpaw
0
5
Eliza Bennett, Crotalus
July 01, 2012 9:33 PM
Hi, I'm Eliza, and I think I'm going to lose it soon.... by Eliza Bennett, Crotalus
Sometimes, Eliza thought, it would be really nice to just be able to scream. Just go into a completely empty, completely dark room, face the door, and scream at the top of her lungs. It wouldn’t fix anything significant in her life, but it might at least lessen the feeling of having a lead slab pressing down on her chest. Most of the time, she thought she dealt well with stress, but this year, every now and then, something would snap in her brain and she would get sucked into a constant repeating thought about how she didn’t know how her social life was going, she didn’t know if she was going to pass her exams, and she didn’t, in fact, know how much longer she was going to stay sane.No one, of course, knew about this. If more than maybe three people, tops, found out that she was finding life stressful at all, then she was done. She’d never be Head Girl, and since her worst enemy would be Quidditch captain and therefore the equal of just a prefect, Eliza would have to do something drastic if she wasn’t Head Girl. She just had to keep up the front another year – her stomach, which already hurt after four hours of CATS study she wasn’t sure had done her any good whatsoever, twisted yet more painfully at the very thought of another year – and maybe….maybe…..
She was sitting still except for the occasional glance-around-and-smile, but Eliza felt like her mind was racing, still putting together everything she had to do. As Professor Brockert began class, Eliza tried to pay attention, but the bits of the lesson she picked up seemed so pointless that the feeling of pointlessness combined with how stressed she was feeling right this second to make it virtually impossible to follow what her teacher was saying. The part about the assignment got through to the part of her brain which kept up with her calendar, though, and for a moment, seeing the sparkle in Brockert’s eye as she promised there really was a point to their lessons, Eliza really wanted to throw something at her. Hearing she could work with someone else did not make her any happier; it just meant more time during which she had to be insanely chipper to curry favor with others.
Instead of throwing anything, though, she took out her datebook and added the new assignment. Could she, in good conscience, do it during the hours blocked out for – if, of course, nothing social happened that she had to take care of right then – Transfiguration CATS prep? Normally, she would have done the assignment on the most basic level possible, but if she really studied the old lessons, then maybe it could count as studying for a grade…..
If she could only drop a class, or give up studying for a CATS exam, or not have prefect duties, or go on a dramatic, overexaggerated spiel to someone about how she hated her life, or single-handedly arrange for Renée to be expelled. Then, she thought, she would be okay, but this stupid Concert requirement being dropped in her lap from out of nowhere had been the last straw. She had no idea what she was going to do for it, and no idea if even her closest friends were really her friends, and thus people she could ask for advice, or just people in a faction she lead, in which case she had to come up with something amazing for them to all take part in without any help at all, and had to do that very soon, before they realized that she wanted more than anything to tell Nic to do it instead. And then – her mind circled back, as it inevitably did – there were still the CATS to think about, and not knowing even now if her party in December had been a success, or…..
As annoying as the liberal staff could be, there were times when she was glad she was cloistered in a fairly strict boarding school, because if she hadn’t been, she was pretty sure something weird would have happened by now. The absolutely perfect way to get rid of all the pressure about having a future, after all, would be to do something to ensure her reputation was in such tatters that she could never hope to have one at all. Most of the time, she recognized that kind of thought as being extremely stupid, but when she’d just finished a four-hour CATS study session and was now getting a stomachache because she still thought she wasn’t going to do well on the test and couldn’t stop obsessing over whether or not her party in December had been a success or not or the fact that she still had no idea what to do with the Concert, the idea began to have a strange kind of appeal. One set of photographs sent to the paper of a wild, drunken makeout session with Jordan –
The needle of her mental record screeched to a stop for the first time all day. Okay, that was not where she had expected that self-indulgent line of thought to go. As weird as it made her feel, though, she couldn’t say she was sorry; it pulled her out of the thought whirlpool enough for her to remember she was in class. She had looked at her watch and realized she’d been staring blankly at a Transfiguration textbook for more time than she had out of class nearly an hour ago, but had been running around ever since making sure she had everything together for the rest of the day so much that she hadn’t come out of the mode yet.
I’m being stupid, she told herself. And hysterical because I got up way too early and spent way too much with a stack of books and another of those damned practice papers. And it hasn’t been long enough since I stopped. It’ll be okay in an hour. Resolutely, she set her shoulders and turned her brightest smile on the person in the next seat, hoping she looked pretty enough today to distract anyone from anything she actually said until she was completely back on form. She was more likely to say something the wrong kind of dumb when she had been feeling stressed, and she didn’t exactly feel not-stressed yet. Just like her perspective was returning, as long as she didn’t think the slightest bit about the Concert. “I’m just going to love making things up for this homework, aren’t you?” she said facetiously. It was almost like getting to complain. “I sort of want to just write ‘learning that I’m never voluntarily turning anything into anything alive for the rest of my life’ as the point for, like, all of them.”
0
Eliza Bennett, Crotalus
Hi, I'm Eliza, and I think I'm going to lose it soon....
174
Eliza Bennett, Crotalus
0
5
Valerie Lennox, Crotalus
July 02, 2012 7:28 PMValerie Lennox, Crotalus
AlumnusHouse: Crotalus
Written by: Allegra Brockert
Age in Post: 13
Birthday: February 27
Hi, I'm Valerie and I hope you don't. by Valerie Lennox, Crotalus
When Valerie saw the objects on their desks, she began to feel quite anxious. They looked similar to Quaffles, only not. What were they in for today, something where they had to transfigure these things before they were hit with them? Surely then, Valerie would get an alternative assignment, having been excused from things like that, but it would call attention to her and her condition.It wasn't so much that the third year longed to participate in such things. She knew her limits, that there wasn't really much that she could do. Valerie's poor health dominated every aspect of her life. Before she did anything she had to consider if it would make her sick-and she was sure most things would.
However, even though it was likely clear to everyone that the Crotalus was ill a lot, Valerie did not especially want attention drawn to the fact that she wasn't doing the same lesson as everyone else. She did not want to be perceived as getting special treatment, even though she quite frankly needed it. It was just that Valerie didn't want others to resent her. She didn't have enough friends as it was. Just Brianna, Michael, and Ryan, the last of which was her cousin . And Melanie of course.
That might be because of her medical condition too and it was the thing about her situation that bothered Valerie most. Other than, of course, feeling miserable all the time. She was always stuck in bed, either in her room or in the Hospital Wing or trying to keep up with her school work. That left little time for socializing. It made her feel sad and lonely.
As the professor mentioned the lesson, Valerie thankfully relaxed. It was not good for her to get stressed. Stress wore down the immune system and hers wasn't too good to begin with. Though changing a...soccer ball, Professor Brockert had called it, into an armadillo sounded difficult and draining as well. The Crotalus got tired very easily.
At least they wouldn't be running about however. Valerie was about to raise her wand and attempt the spell when the girl next to her, Eliza, whom she recognized as Paul's sister and one of her house's prefects. "Um, I think it's supposed to be so we know how to transfigure more complex things. Like build up our skill in it." Valerie wasn't terrible at it. She wasn't magically weak, just weak in every other way. "I don't really know why we'd need to use this either though." The third year admitted.
11
Valerie Lennox, Crotalus
Hi, I'm Valerie and I hope you don't.
204
Valerie Lennox, Crotalus
0
5
So... by Josh McLachlan
Spanish. Well, that was comforting. Between her accent and his, it wouldn't be too hard to understand each other. That was sarcastic, by the way. Josh hesitated before shrugging. "Sure, I guess." He wasn't too keen on this social interaction, but it wasn't like he was agreeing to tutor her outside of class or anything. He pointed at the counter-spell he thought she ought to know. "Remember this spell," he said. "It'll help when you mess up."Then Josh flipped to the page that described the Transfiguration charm they were working on now. "You just make two circular motions with your wand and point at the ball. Concentrate on imagining an armadillo appear. You have to really concentrate."
Josh wasn't very good at explaining what he meant, so he decided to show her. She could read more about it in the textbook. He was a little peeved that she had asked for his help before even trying the spell, but he didn't say anything. Some people just didn't have the confidence he had in his magical abilities. He made two circular clockwise motions and then pointed his wand at the ball. The image of the armadillo unfolding was clear in his head and the ball transformed as it should. The armadillo was once again unraveled and began to toddle around as armadillos do. He quickly turned it back into a ball before it got any farther.
"Want me to show you again?" he asked, looking over at Valentina for the first time since he started his explanation. He enjoyed teaching, he was surprised to find, but maybe it was just because he knew he had succeeded in this. It was...easy. Being something like a professor was definitely not what he was interested in. Having to stand in front of the classroom and teach children...ugh. No, learning in the classroom and doing his own work was more his area.
0
Josh McLachlan
So...
0
Josh McLachlan
0
5
I'd hope so more if it didn't mean everyone is out to get me by Eliza
Eliza felt a flash of disappointment as she realized she was sitting next to a third year girl for the first time, as she figured such a person fell into the category least likely to be either directly useful to her or be distracted from her actual words and actions by her face and other good features. Plus, she clearly thought Eliza was stupid, and since she was a Lennox, Eliza would have had to let her get away with that even if she hadn’t already been living every day with the acute awareness that she was a complete failure when it came to actually being able to get things done.“Um, yeah,” Eliza said, “but I really doubt you can get away with writing the same thing for every single lesson all year, don’t you? In fifth year, anyway.” The badge on her robes should have made it clear enough which of the three years she belongs to. “Who knows, though? Maybe she’s trying to give us all a break.”
She thought she had better not go much further, or she would cross the line at which she thought she would, two years ago, have been paranoid and thinking the fifth year was implying…something negative about third years in general and probably also their intelligence and being sure that the fifth year was doing so. The other girl was a pureblood and in Crotalus, she couldn’t be too thick-headed. Probably. It was better not to assume otherwise, anyway, until she had more evidence. Worrying about everything often meant not being able to convince herself to do anything, but doing something wrong seemed a lot worse to her. She couldn’t manage sweet and meekly innocent for long periods of time, so she felt like this made it even more imperative to play every card that she found as well as she possibly could.
That, she decided, was what her life felt like most of the time: a card game. She had, she thought, a good idea of what she had, a topic her father had carefully taught her about long before she set foot in Sonora Academy, and she tried to get glimpses of other players’ hands by using her mother as a social mirror, but she could never be completely sure of everything someone else did or didn’t have or know how good they were at cheating against her, so it was really hard to figure out how her hand would fare against someone else’s if she threw it on the table. Valerie Lennox was a Lennox, which probably outranked being a Bennett in general, but she was sick and didn’t have brothers and was younger than Eliza, who had a prefect’s badge in this specific environment, so how did all that affect the dynamic? The best thing was to stay a little back from the line even when it was definitely not a sweet and meekly innocent day.
“Bu you’re right about this specific spell. I do not see an occasion when I will ever need an armadillo. I can just imagine my mother’s reaction if I used it as a party trick.” She put her hands to either side of her face, which she screwed into an expression of mock horror as she exclaimed “Oh, my!” before she laughed and then tried the spell. Her ball lengthened strangely, stretching out, but did not animate. “Now I sort of want to try that,” she added lightly, wishing she was talking to one of her friends, who’d be less likely to think that she was crazy or stupid instead of joking. It didn't really matter, since Valerie wouldn't be old enough next year to vote for her or not vote for her, but it would have been nice.
0
Eliza
I'd hope so more if it didn't mean everyone is out to get me
0
Eliza
0
5
Michael Grosvenor
July 04, 2012 2:58 PM
Crunchy on the outside, smooth on the inside. by Michael Grosvenor
A lot of Michael's energy during the start of class time went into focussing on what the teacher was saying. That was a lot easier, now that the anti-reverberation charms had been put on the classrooms. Echoey stone walls and hearing aids were not the best of friends. It also helped that he'd swallowed his pride and accepted that he needed to sit down the front. It was amazing how much sound was lost over just a few feet of distance. That, however, played into where the rest of his energy was directed. If you sat down the front, you had to make sure you sat up straight and didn't do things like roll your eyes when you got set an extended homework assignment. Michael managed this admirably, although he sighed internally. Getting through Transfiguration was usually hard enough. He didn't want to then have to go away and think about what the point of it had been.Turning to the task at hand, he looked at the football in front of him. He guessed it was kind of a similar shape to an armadillo, if the armadillo was really freaked out (which, being brutally and suddenly brought into existence, possibly with bits missing, in a classroom full of school children, it probably would be). But that was about all the similarity he could see. The football was hollow. An armadillo was meant to be full of guts and moving bits that did stuff. Important stuff like making the armadillo not be super extra dead. He fiddled with the ball, dropping it lightly on his desk a few times. Balls bounced. Armadillos... He was fairly sure they didn't, and wasn't going to be testing it if, by some fluke, he managed to make one. Feeling very sorry for the thing he was about to try to bring forth, he levelled his wand at his target..
“Amadgio,” he cast. Step one, stuff happened. Like magic zappy shooting out his wand stuff. Step two, it hit the football. It wasn't a dreadful start but it definitely wasn't an armadillo. What it was was a football on legs. And, as predicted, it wasn't very happy about being here. If it felt anything at all. It might have just been that the legs were functional and had been switched to 'go.' Either way, the armadillo-ball ran straight forward, careening into the work of the person next to him.
“Sorry,” he sighed, picking up his footballadillo. Its legs continued to flail futilely as if it hadn't realised that there was nothing underneath them. He suspected that he hadn't. He didn't think that there was a lot going on inside the football's head. “I guess don't call on in one of those emergencies where you need an armadillo,” he added, letting the slight roll of his eyes that he'd resisted so well before find its way out.
13
Michael Grosvenor
Crunchy on the outside, smooth on the inside.
199
Michael Grosvenor
0
5
Don't worry, things are ok again! by Brianna
Brianna tried not to blush but knew that no matter what she did, her face would still have a pink hue to it. It couldn’t be helped. She knew that she would have blushed no matter what out of embarrassment, but it always seemed so much worse when it was front of her housemates. At least Paul was friendlier. Brianna still wasn’t quite sure how Linus felt about her, but she was almost certain that if he had been the one to catch her failing at Transfiguration, he might secretly laugh at her.Of course, that wasn’t to say that Paul wasn’t doing exactly that, he just happened to have a friendlier way of him. But, there was also the fact that her housemates all came from well off families and judged her because they secretly knew that she didn’t. She had never admitted it, but she was certain that it was obvious that she wasn’t from money. She felt that they all looked down on her because of that and if she made silly mistakes like this, they would hate her even more.
Paul seemed just as stuck on her issue as she was with it. Well, at least he could admit that he didn’t know how to fix the ball. Now she didn’t feel completely stupid, so that was at least something. “Oh, that’s okay. Thank you.” Brianna commented, offering him a smile. Transfiguration was always a difficult class to have, she was far better at Charms, but normally the object would just fix itself after a bit. But since Brianna deflated it, she didn’t it would fix itself on its own. If only she could repair it…repair… “Oh!” Brianna exclaimed suddenly and sat up straighter in her hair. “Reparo!” She stated calmly and confidently. To her glee, the ball began to inflate itself once more. “I broke the ball, I should have known that this spell would be easy enough to fix it.” Brianna was quite happy with figuring out this solution, but she almost lost her confidence when she realized that she still had to figure out how to work the spell.
“Paul, how are you with the spell?” She asked him. Maybe if he were able to work the spell correctly, he could help her figure out what it was that she did wrong. “I have no idea what I did to make the spell go so wrong.”
0
Brianna
Don't worry, things are ok again!
0
Brianna
0
5
Yes? by Valentina
Josh’s accent sounded a lot like her father’s, so it was sort of easy understanding it. Valentina hesitated about furthering her interactions with Josh, since he seemed to be a little peeved about helping her out, but he hadn’t said no. So, the Teppenpaw shrugged it off and that maybe Josh had been having a bad day or something. Plus, she couldn’t really refuse any help, even when maybe it was being given unwillingly. She desperately needed help in order to scrape a decent grade on her CATS.Her eyes briefly wandered to the place he pointed and repeated the spell a few minutes in her head. It was the counter-spell and it was going to help if she messed up, which was more than likely. It always took her a couple of tries before actually having a decent outcome.
The way that Josh explained it made it sound like an easy task -- it was obviously easy for him – but Valentina was sure she was going to have trouble with it.
Flick wand two times in a circular motion, concentrate on the armadillo and say the spell.
She smiled getting the basic of it. The Spaniard was smart, but she still needed to practice and concentrate on her studies. Being focused on other things throughout her schooling was detrimental to her grades, though she was still smarter than Alex. Her older brother had always been a jock.
Valentina clapped silently in celebration of Josh’s success. The armadillo toddled funnily on the desk before going back to being a ball.
“I think I got it,” she said with a twinkle in her eyes. She bit her lower lip in concentration, wiggled her nose and pointed her wand to the ball that had previously been moving around. Valentina mentally went over the instructions a few times before actually attempting the spell.
flick wand two times in circular motion Check.
concentrate on the armadillo Check.
”Amadgio” she said.
However, what was supposed to be now a fully functional armadillo was now a soccer ball with a leather armor shell. The Spaniard prodded it with her wand the thing just rolled off the table. She sighed in frustration. The Teppenpaw bent down to pick it up and then placed it back on the desk. Ironically, she was able to undo her bad transfiguration. “Would you mind doing it again, please.”
0
Valentina
Yes?
0
Valentina
0
5
Ryan
July 06, 2012 2:02 AM
I'm sorry. Why not? by Ryan
"Thank you." Ryan looked down, blushing. He didn't know this Thornton girl who wasn't Arista-she was either Addison or Amira, but he thought Amira was on the Pecari team with Sophie, so it was likely Addison-very well. Ryan didn't think anyone did, because they seemed to stick together an awful lot. More so even than Valerie and Melanie. In a way the Crotalus was a bit envious, he could never have that with Carrie. Ryan didn't even want to be around her. Maybe it would be different with his step-siblings.However, the fifth year just ate up compliments. He was an absolute sucker for them, even though he was confused and surprised by them. Ryan was so much more used to insults. Midterm had been especially brutal. Carrie was not only nasty to Jamie and her children, but of course, took the brunt of her anger out on him. He should have been used to it, but that mean that it didn't still hurt.
A lot of the time, Ryan just felt like giving up. His parents getting divorced hadn't helped really and neither had the restraining order. Sure, he didn't have to deal with his mother anymore, but his sister had just picked up where their mother left off. Things were never going to get better. Maybe when he graduated and left home.
He really wasn't sure how much more he could take. Ryan didn't know what to do either. The Crotalus couldn't change things but they wore him down. He was stuck and that was frustrating. Ryan didn't even know how to react. He couldn't break down and cry because he had to be a man. Nor could he strike back at those who had hurt him because it would just make matters worse. Besides, it would make him not much better than they were.
"Uh, I guess I can help you now." Ryan replied. He did like to help others, it made him feel good. Useful and not so dumb. Like he was actually worth something. However, he wasn't so sure about the essay. He glanced from Sophie to Valerie. "But I'm pretty sure I'll be working on the essay with Sophie, and then I'll probably have to help my cousin too." The Crotalus nodded in the third year's general direction. Ryan felt really really bad about this but he didn't want Sophie to get mad at him for inviting someone else to work with them and with Valerie, well, it wouldn't be fair to her either. "I'm really sorry." The fifth year apologized. He hoped Addison wouldn't get mad at him.
11
Ryan
I'm sorry. Why not?
176
Ryan
0
5
Excellent! by Paul
Paul lifted one shoulder at the thanks. “No problem,” he said, as it really hadn’t been, considering he hadn’t been able to offer any help. The same admission might have sent his sister into a neurotic tailspin at some later point, if she convinced herself that it would make someone think she wasn’t a good enough leader instead of it being endearing or strategic or whatever her word of the day was, but Paul had been spared the indignities of inheriting anything from his mother except a small, sharp nose.Actually, he wasn’t completely sure where he had come from at all, and if he had known her even slightly less well, he might have assumed his mother had gone and had an affair. His mother was shriller about it, but his father was really even more success- and image-oriented. So was his father’s whole family. They weren’t as extreme about it as some families, he knew, they hadn’t written Uncle Vic and Aunt Katherine off as dead or anything like that, but he disliked family gatherings just because of the constant tension between his father and his remaining sane uncles, the constant feeling that they were all measuring themselves against each other, comparing advantages. His father, for instance, was the most objectively successful now that the designated superstar was unwell, but he had an idiot wife; Uncle Roger had a much better wife, but he lived in Montana. And so on. Paul shuddered to think of how it was inevitable that he and his brothers were going to end up the same way – because he was sure he would always come in last.
Because Paul frankly didn’t care. He tried sometimes, but it was frankly too much effort, and he couldn’t see how any of them had ever benefited from it. Uncle Vic was crazy, Father was still jealous of him anyway, Uncle Roger was apparently planning to live vicariously through his kids, Uncle Matthias had more or less burned out years ago, and Aunt Katherine was crazy. Eliza was more like them, and whatever she said, she looked pretty miserable to him most of the time. As long as he had enough money to remain comfortable and entertained, Paul saw no reason to exert himself that much for so little actual gain.
He gave another try at the spell, but it didn’t alter past what he’d gotten the first time. Brianna’s sudden exclamation drew his attention back to her. “Good job,” he congratulated her sincerely. “I wouldn’t have thought of that.” Deflated was, in his mental catalogue, a little different from broken, so he was mildly interested in whether or not the spell would have even worked for him the way it did for her.
“Not much further than you are,” he admitted about where he was with the spell they were here, for whatever reason, to learn today. “I think the white parts look more brown than yellow this time, but otherwise, it’s just like it was the first time.” He shrugged, not very concerned by this, either. "I'm guessing that they're going to really start teaching the lessons more for the fifth years than the rest of us now that we're getting closer to the CATS," he said. "So we're more likely than not to have trouble with them from now on."
0
Paul
Excellent!
0
Paul
0
5
Valerie
July 07, 2012 10:17 PM
I'm not. by Valerie
"Well, no." Valerie replied. She didn't think she could get away with that either as a third year, but she wasn't going to say that to Eliza. Her position in pureblood society might have been better than the fifth year's, but Valerie was slightly intimidated by her anyway. She was older and a prefect, the latter was something that the third year would never be. Her health wouldn't allow it so there was no way the staff would give it to her.She didn't even really want it. Valerie knew that she couldn't handle all the stress and other work. She wasn't even able to take any electives, though she never would have been allowed to take Muggle Studies anyway even she wasn't sick. Valerie's parents thought the subject was distasteful and unnecessary. She didn't need it, because she would grow up-the Crotalus had to keep believing this, because otherwise she'd fall into a seriously deep depression and Valerie didn't need that on top of everything else, and make her self sick again-to make a proper marriage. Her parents didn't even think those raised in muggle environments needed it, because they already knew about muggles. Therefore, they considered it even less necessary than Divination.
The third year decided against telling Eliza that she hardly thought the essay seemed like a break to her. For one thing, it might have just been Valerie and she'd have been somewhat ashamed to say it if the older girl really believed that it was. Furthermore, Eliza might not have taken well to being corrected by someone younger and the younger Crotalus did not want to cause conflict. She couldn't handle it, it too was bad for her.
Valerie giggled a little at Eliza's comments about her mother and the accompanying face. "Mine wouldn't like it much either." She agreed. Tamara Lennox would be utterly mortified if a wild animal was at her party and she'd be absolutely furious if Valerie tried such a thing. Which meant that she never would. Her parents had never been angry with her in her life as far as she knew. The Crotalus had always been shielded from such things.
Besides, it wasn't like they could have parties, all that noise and stress that would disturb Valerie. She felt rather guilty about how her illness affected the rest of her family. How they couldn't be completely normal. The third year felt like it was all her fault even though she tried not to think of such things, because that too would only make her worse. Not only that, but their home was very much animal free.
She didn't know what to say about Eliza's comment about actually trying to do that, but she giggled again, feeling the other girl was probably not serious. Nobody would confess mother issues to someone who was basically a stranger and just throw it around so casually. Valerie knew how much Ryan hid his from most people. "Good try." She complimented the older girl.
Now the blonde took out her own wand and tried the spell. The first two times it did nothing but the third the ball turned gray and hard, like what the Crotalus imagined an armadillo's texture to be, which was probably wrong given that Valerie had never and probably would never lay eyes on any that had not been a soccer ball first. It also had a tail and only its back legs.
She rubbed her head, starting to feel awfully tired again. Her head was beginning to ache too. Valerie was pretty sure she would need to rest again after class.
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Valerie
I'm not.
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Valerie
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Of course not...unless you're just saying that by Eliza
Eliza had no idea if Valerie’s compliment was sincere, but she smiled anyway. “Thank you,” she said graciously. She could, sometimes, be one of those girls who decried their own work, and this time she honestly thought it deserved to be spoken badly about, but it didn’t feel right just now to do that. Possibly because the work really was bad; even a third year could probably tell that she had not done as well as she should have.Her thought about that was only intensified by the other girl actually producing legs and a tail. Her ball actually had bits that resembled an animal of some kind on it – whether or not it was specifically an armadillo, Eliza was not completely sure, because she’d only seen one when the professor held hers up at the beginning of class, but it was definitely an animal. That was, in her opinion, much more progress than a misshapen and clearly completely synthetic ball was.
“Very good try,” she said, determined to be generous about it. She could not treat people like dirt just because she was in a bad mood, that was bad politics, and this one specifically was one Paul had to live with. As unlikely as it was that she would spontaneously decide to confess it to him, Eliza did care for her brother – annoying, not-very-attractive, and apathetic loser who would nevertheless probably have an easier time in life than she did that he was. She wasn’t going to go out of her way to make his life more difficult, or deliberately let her self-control slip just because his welfare could be much more directly affected than her own by something, however little she saw the point of being that generous. Paul didn’t even care about badges, which she couldn’t understand even if he did seem likely to get them just by default. What was the point of living if you weren’t trying for something, not focused on something, even if it was something that was probably never going to work out?
At that moment, Valerie touched her head. Well, she guessed living even a pointless and unfulfilling existence beat living one which involved being constantly sick and appearing not to have much chance of getting well enough to do anything. Either way, though, she was just glad not to be in their year, which seemed to be a group which was constitutionally incapable of going for it. Her year had major problems with it, and overall she would have rather been a sixth or fourth year, but fifth year beat third easily.
“Got a headache?” she asked. “Because that – “ she nodded to Valerie’s work – “becomes even more impressive if you do.” Headaches were terrible to try to work magic around, she knew; it got hard to focus properly on the work, and focus was really the important thing for working spells no matter the class, she thought. Concentration had helped her plow over a lot of obstacles before where knowledge had failed to help.
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Eliza
Of course not...unless you're just saying that
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Eliza
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Mellie Goodwin, Pecari
July 09, 2012 4:06 PM
Are you sure it's not just full of hot air? by Mellie Goodwin, Pecari
It wasn’t necessarily where she would have chosen to sit on her own – the middle was more her kind of place, both the rows that were in the middle of the room and the middle of those rows when she could, because there she could blend in and some of her most disappointing attempts at Transfiguration be at their least likely to be noticed by the teacher – but Mom had suggested she try sitting in the front of the room when she could now that she had moved into the intermediate classes, and while Mellie knew there was no way her mother could know if she had complied, she felt wrong about not doing it if she thought of it before she grabbed a seat and arrived to a class early enough to have her pick. She had told her mother she would, after all, and if her grades turned out to be as so-so as they had been through her magical education again, she didn’t want to lie if she was asked if she’d followed the seating advice.It probably went against what her mother had had in mind when she brought moving to the front up, but Mellie found she didn’t feel as self-conscious about being up there when someone she knew was there, too, so when she sat a seat next to Michael open, she pushed down the usual running dialogue with herself about whether or not someone would secretly hate her for sitting next to them and just took the desk, getting in a quick smile and a greeting before the start of class, when she had to turn around and have out a quill to take notes with and actually take notes with it and, above all, look serious and studious.
She thought she looked more startled than anything, which did not fit in at all but she couldn’t help it, when Professor Brockert gave them a big writing project to do – was she collaborating with Professor Fawcett to be horrible to them in that way? – but then she bit her lip and told herself that wouldn’t be so bad, really. She usually did know, after all, what skills she was supposed to be working on in her lessons; she just had trouble working on them most of the time, that was all. That, and how she just hated long writing assignments. It was going to be really hard not to keep putting this off and then putting it off some more, until she had to write the whole thing in one crazy and not-very-good rush, just because the thought of it was so unappealing that she found an excuse.
Well, at least I can worry about procrastinating…later, she thought, the corners of her mouth twisting up a little at the thought. She didn’t think it was funny enough to say out loud, really, but she did think it was kind of funny. She didn’t have time to worry about when she was going to procrastinate on something because she had another spell to master – or, more likely, stumble half-through – right now, so it wasn’t exactly like she was procrastinating about procrastinating, but it sort of was anyway.
She made her first try with the cheerful expectation that it wasn’t really going to work, and sure enough, it didn’t. The ball on her desk shook violently for a moment, some of the surface near the top rippling, but then it quieted, just looking a little more lopsided than it had before, and she wasn’t completely sure how much of that was wishful thinking on her part.
Before she could try for a second time, though, Michael’s much better attempt ran into hers and would have made it roll off the desk if – either through Chaser reflexes or just reflexes – Mellie hadn’t automatically thrown her hand out to catch it before it could fall to the floor. “It’s okay,” she said, laughing at his joke. Emergency armadillos. She couldn’t think of a scenario where that could happen at all. “I’m pretty sure I’d be better off calling you than me, though,” she added, gesturing to her work and deciding it really was at least a little bit lopsided. “Maybe mine will get legs the second time I try it. Is that your first try for that one?”
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Mellie Goodwin, Pecari
Are you sure it's not just full of hot air?
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Mellie Goodwin, Pecari
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Michael Grosvenor
July 09, 2012 5:58 PM
Well, it's not supposed to be. So it probably is... by Michael Grosvenor
“Nice catch,” Michael said, as the person next to him prevented their project from escaping. He smiled as he realised it was Mellie. In part, it was relief. He'd never had trouble at this school but since Laurie had brought up his “background” and the fact that it was an issue for some people, he'd been worrying about putting himself in the way of the Pureblood students. He could just picture them having sneered at him for letting his misshapen attempt at the assignment invade their space. Mostly though, he was pleased to see Mellie, and to have an excuse to talk to her. And to have her laugh at his joke. He'd never had much chance to be the joker, or to try out any kind of role for himself at his previous school. It was cool to know he could make people laugh. And not just people. He could make girls laugh, apparently.“Yeah, it was,” he admitted, sounding a little bashful. The idea of someone being impressed at his skills in transfiguration was definitely not one he was useful. “But it's going to make the second attempt pretty interesting cos it seems to be stuck on go...” he nodded to the creature's legs, which were still valiantly peddling round.
“You look like you're heading towards a snout shape,” he offered, nodding at her ball which he was sure wasn't entirely round any more. “And I reckon that's the way to do it. Snout first, legs as the last step, trust me.” He tentatively placed his work back on the desk, holding it firmly by the top.
“I definitely don't trust my aim...” he mused. “I feel bad stunning the poor thing, if it can be stunned, but I really don't want an armadillo for a hand. Any ideas?” he asked.
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Michael Grosvenor
Well, it's not supposed to be. So it probably is...
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Michael Grosvenor
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I think that is how it works (tag Professor) by Sully
Sullivan was seriously starting to worry about Jhonice. Firstly, he had experienced greater enthusiasm for an orthodontist appointment than she was showing for the lesson. Secondly, and more tellingly, she was skipping a perfect opportunity to go stalk a numeral. Granted, Derry the Fourth seemed like a relatively mild, if somewhat less than sane if his wardrobe was anything to go by, member of a Pureblood Family, but even Sully had heard he was kind of half-disowned which had to be exciting for Jhonice. Today, though, Four could have been the dullest muggleborn in the school for all the attention she gave him.Sully tried not to feel relieved by the knowledge that it wasn't just him she had lost interest in. He wanted her to realize he was a boring muggleborn, too, and that Simon was not his father. He did.
Then she answered his question with rather more spirit than she had displayed so far today and ended the outpouring of words with an outpouring of tears.
Terrified by this sudden development, Sullivan panicked and did the only thing that came to mind to deal with the situation. He raised his hand and called out for the teacher to help him. "Professor Brockert! Help! I didn't do anything! She just started crying!"
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Sully
I think that is how it works (tag Professor)
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Sully
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5
Working hard by Josh McLachlan
It was difficult for Josh to grasp how people didn't believe in magic. Muggles, for one thing, didn't. Though Josh still wasn't keen on spending time in the Muggle world, he was able to tolerate muggle-borns the way his family members could not. Or would not. Still, believing in something like magic, something that could not always be explained, was essential in Josh's life. As logical as he was, magic was his blood and therefore he believed in it.He wished he could explain this all to Valentina, that she just had to really see and visualize the armadillo in her head, but he couldn't articulate it. Besides, it sounded crazy even in his own head. "Certainly," he replied instead, focusing on the armadillo in his head. He thought of each and the leathery armor of its shell, its nails and little paws, even the little hairs under its chin. He thought of the organs that would also have to be created, and all the workings of an armadillo. Having never come into contact with an armadillo, he'd had to really look at its picture carefully.
"Amadgio," he said, flicking his wand twice in a circular motion. The ball changed into an armadillo once more, this time fairer and more realistic-looking than the previous two. Josh was pleased with his work and turned to Valentina, unsure of what else to say. "Just visualize it in your head," he told her finally. He was enjoying teaching more than he had thought he would. "Study the appearance of my armadillo if you must." Transfiguration was definitely more difficult than other subjects because it was so detailed, but Josh enjoyed it immensely. Especially when he got to be the teacher.
Working with other people didn't come naturally to Josh. He was a solitary being to begin with who wanted to be accepted without having to "know people" to get it. He wanted to earn respect from his diligent work, not from the people he knew and his family name. Of course, he wasn't exactly earning any respect at this school, nor had he earned any from his previous school. But someday, Josh promised himself, he would earn the respect he so deserved. He eyed his armadillo who was toddling around now, observing everything, not yet familiar with the idea of predators and prey. 'Lucky you,' Josh thought to himself bitterly, and waved his wand, moving the armadillo back to the center of the desk.
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Josh McLachlan
Working hard
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Josh McLachlan
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Just... cause... (Prof. Brockert) by Addison
“W-welcome…” Addi said as a response to Ryan’s slight blush at her praise of his work. “Its better than I could do…” she added a bit softer as she looked down at her getting larger waste. Why can’t I be skinnier? she asked herself. Maybe the boys would look at me, or other people wouldn’t look at me like I had leprosy or something… Of course I have to start acting stronger too, that will help…Addison looked at the wand hanging limp in her hand and she sighed softly. The fourth year was almost sure that Ryan hadn’t heard the sigh, actually, she was hoping he hadn’t.
Ryan said "Uh, I guess I can help you now. But I'm pretty sure I'll be working on the essay with Sophie, and then I'll probably have to help my cousin too."
“Oh… N-never mind… You’ve already g-got plans…” she said getting softer by the word as he apologized to her. “D-don’t worry… I’ll figure it out… eventually…” she said as she turned away from him.
She’d thought that perhaps the Crotalus boy would want to work with her, but it seemed he didn’t. Just like everyone else… she thought as she glanced back to her limp wand hand then to her notes, to her soccer ball and back to her wand. Addison swallowed her saliva and took in a deep breath.
“Amadgio.” she said in a voice just above a whisper. Nothing happened. “Amadgio.” she repeated, only slightly louder than the first time. On her second try the ball rolled a little bit, but then stopped moving altogether. “Amadgio.” she said, hoping that the third time was the charm. The black and white soccer ball rolled right off the table and she sighed deeply.
I just can’t do it… I’m a failure… Failure to Mommy, to Professor Crosby-Brockert, to the girls AND to me… she thought. That’s what I’ve learned…
Her soccer ball kept rolling away from her and stopped right at Professor Brockert’s foot… Addi looked up at her and frowned.
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Addison
Just... cause... (Prof. Brockert)
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Addison
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Mellie
July 12, 2012 5:52 PM
Well, it could be worse. by Mellie
Mellie had to acknowledge Michael’s point about the downside of his Transfiguration attempt. It would, she guessed, go back in a minute, but for the meantime, it could get away and cause classroom chaos. Would it be better or worse, she wondered, if it had eyes? Without eyes, it seemed like it would crash into more things. Or could it tell that something was in its way? Probably not, since it had run into her work, but maybe it had kind of been panicking then and hit things….For a moment, she contemplated a panicking soccer ball and decided that no, she didn’t really want to think about that. Mellie had dreaded the more advanced Transfigurations of the intermediate class partially because they were harder, but also because they had a way of involving animals that could maybe get all messed up if they were performed by someone who didn’t really know what they were doing, like a third year in general or her specifically at any point in the three years she was sure to have in the class. So she was going to continue to think that the soccer ball was not thinking or having feelings or anything like that. That was just better to think of.
“If only I could make the snout first without teeth,” she said, though she wasn’t sure if armadillos had teeth or not. Getting bitten by something that had a head and didn’t feel the rest of itself did not sound like much fun to her. She really didn’t want that to happen. Now that she’d said it, though, she thought it would probably be smarter not to point out that she didn’t know if her concern was valid unless Michael said already knew about the topic and brought it up. It wouldn’t surprise her if he did, but…well, she didn’t want to point out that she didn’t if he didn’t.
She made a sympathetic sound as Michael said he didn’t want an armadillo for a hand. That would be not good, either. “I don’t….” she started, but then she did have an idea. “I guess I could hold it for you,” she offered. “I could use both hands, and not have to hold it right at the top, so you’d be able to aim better at it. What do you think?”
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Mellie
Well, it could be worse.
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Mellie
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Hope Brockert, Teppenpaw
July 12, 2012 8:11 PM
Supposedly, no athletics are appropriate for a lady. by Hope Brockert, Teppenpaw
Midterm had passed as it often seemed to be, yet another wedding, this one Tawny's. Hope didn't really mind that much. It made her daydream about her own someday. In fact, that's how she spent most of the ceremony, rather than paying attention. The Teppenpaw knew she'd probably have to marry who her great-grandfather told her to, but she tried to ignore that fact. Besides, from what she'd observed, Tawny seemed to like her husband and from what she understood, the Pecari alumna didn't like much of anyone.Personally,she wasn't entirely sure that she wanted to be betrothed at all. First of all though there were guys in the fourth year class, Hope kind of thought they were all spoken for and fifth year only had one marriageable guy and he was her cousin . That meant marrying someone that she didn't even know and Hope wasn't so sure she liked that. Secondly, well, she would rather marry for love.
However, right now, the focus seemed to be on Nina. Her older sister was going to graduate this year and still wasn't betrothed. Her class was even worse than the fourth year's in terms of eligible guys. There was one guy in the whole class, Raines Bradley, whom Nina didn't even seem to like much and whom seemed interested in someone else anyway.
In fact, the seventh year didn't seem to be very happy at all. Nina was so uncomfortable at fancy pureblood gatherings. They didn't seem to fit with who the Pecari was on the inside and the Teppenpaw knew that Nina was just going to be pressured into going to more of them once she graduated. Especially if she wasn't betrothed before the end of the year. The fourth year was concerned for her sister, but tried not to dwell on it much.
Hope took a seat in Transfiguration. She never really cared where she sat too much in terms of back, middle or front or side of the room.Close to Russell was a plus, he was her friend after all, and people did like to be near their friends but not a requirement. There wasn't anybody she especially wanted to avoid either. Hope tended to like most people, and while there were a few people that seemed less than friendly-the new transfer sprang to mind, and he was from a dark family and Great-Grandfather wasn't even considering him as a betrothal because of Aunt Rosemary's marriage to Uncle Liam being a major mistake so Hope was happy about this-there was nobody the Teppenpaw really hated.
She poked curiously at the round object on her desk. It wasn't a Quaffle, Bludger, crystal ball or globe, all the similarly shaped objects that the fourth year knew of. Briefly, Hope wondered if this what they were going to do, transfigure this into one of those more familiar objects. That seemed a bit easy at this point but there were third years in the class. She doubted Nora, at least, would mind much if it was something more difficult.
The professor-who sort of looked as if she swallowed one of the odd objects on the desks-began to talk, explaining what the balls were. Hope had never heard of soccer before, and by the sounds of it, it didn't sound like something that she'd enjoy much. She went to Quidditch games, especially if Teppenpaw or Aladren was playing so maybe it was something that she might like watching but Hope didn't really have any interest in playing sports at all.
She wrote down the assignment. The Teppenpaw wasn't the best essay writer in the world, but she wasn't bad at them either, probably better than Nina or Kaylie. Though Hope knew that the former studied more, just because she felt that she had nothing better to do and really her grades were pretty decent now. Hope was actually pretty proud of Nina getting good grades and prefect and stuff. She was rather proud of all relatives. The closely related ones anyway. There was a first year here, Ryan O'Malley's sister, that she'd not heard good things about from Evan or anyone else.
As for herself, Hope felt that if she needed help, she could just ask Russell or Nora. Preferably the former for reasons that weren't even based on being attracted to him. The third year could be a bit of a condescending know-it-all at times, even though Hope didn't like to think that way.
Now, she focused on turning the ball into an armadillo. Hope knew she wasn't the best out of her family at it, but she was still above average. It would be shameful not to be at least that. " Amadgio " The result was just a partially formed head growing out of the soccer ball. Her eyes widened as the creature began to try moving and started bouncing around. Hope felt bad for it, she really did, but she couldn't help but giggle just a little bit.
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Hope Brockert, Teppenpaw
Supposedly, no athletics are appropriate for a lady.
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Hope Brockert, Teppenpaw
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Valerie
July 13, 2012 2:31 AM
No, I meant it. Not enough energy to plot against people. by Valerie
"Thank you." Valerie replied. She blushed a little at Eliza's comment about it being more impressive if she had a headache. "Actually, the headache just started." The younger Crotalus replied. She had a genetic tendency towards Transfiguration, with her grandmother having been a Brockert and all, but it really took a lot out of her, though it was better than lessons where Valerie had to run around. She had to admit that she was glad to get out of those.Still, even doing spells drained her and left her feeling weak and exhausted but obviously the third year didn't want to miss those. What kind of witch didn't know how to do spells? If that was the case, Valerie might as well be a Muggle. All her life she'd been taught how important magic was and she really didn't want to fail at it. It was bad enough that she was sickly.
She really hated it. The headaches, the fevers, the muscle aches, the coughing, the sore throats, all the symptoms of constant infections. The worst thing after the actually physical pain and the not being able to make friends, was the fact that Valerie felt inadequate as a witch sometimes. Feeling as rotten as she did was not worth getting out of flying and a few other things that weren't considered proper for young ladies, even if she really wouldn't have wanted to do those things anyway.
Unfortunately, Valerie was rather used to it by now and it was something that she would have to live with the rest of her life. A miracle cure was unlikely, she just had to be careful, take her potions and try to prevent herself from getting anything too serious. The only alternative to feeling bad wasn't good either and Valerie would much prefer to go on the way she was than that.
The third year looked down at her soccer ball-armadillo thing, wanting to sigh, but not wanting to have Eliza hear her. She'd really appreciated the compliment that the older girl had given her, even though Valerie had had to admit that she hadn't had the headache when she did it. Rather it had been the cause. The tail and leg flickered and it returned to its original form, but Valerie didn't feel ready to try again just yet. It would only tire her out and make the headache worse.
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Valerie
No, I meant it. Not enough energy to plot against people.
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Valerie
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Michael Grosvenor
July 13, 2012 5:28 PM
Why would you put that idea into my head?! by Michael Grosvenor
Michael hadn't really thought about teeth. But now that Mellie had mentioned it he couldn't stop. He pulled a face.“I bet that's what I manage next. Something that can run, bite, is freaked out and has no idea what it's doing... Perfect. Maybe I can add to my essay that the point of this lesson is to hone my reflexes and ensure I keep up to date with rabies vaccinations.” He wasn't sure that armadillos carried rabies but he doubted getting bitten by one was good for him. He tried telling himself that this was a very unlikely outcome. That the teacher wouldn't have them make anything dangerous. But that kind of hinged on whether they got it right. Essentially, if they didn't, this was a monster making laboratory.
“I guess...” he answered, when Mellie offered to hold the ball for him. It did make sense. She'd be able to protect more of herself from being hit and he wasn't a terrible shot. “I'd just feel really bad if you ended up with an armadillo's nose because of me. So, you have to promise right now that if that happens, you won't hold it against me. I promise that, in return, I will not sell you to the circus,” he added, trying and failing to look terribly earnest about the matter.
Tentatively, he allowed Mellie to grasp the ball, releasing his grip from the top of it. Ok. He just had to aim right. And not think about big, rabid teeth. Cos, in transfiguration, visualising things made them happen. And he definitely didn't want to think about a big rabid mouth emerging right where Mellie's hand was. Especially as he'd probably then start looking towards her hand and then he'd hit it and she'd end up with a big rabid mouth for a hand. He drew himself up. Readying himself. Taking a deep breath and focussing.
“Why can't I be making it into... like a bunny or something?” he complained, letting the breath out and visibly deflating. “Or like, something I just know for a fact does not have teeth?”
“Stupefy!” he cast, aiming at the ball. It wobbled a little, and its little legs finally gave up. “Sorry,” he said, not quite sure who he was apologising to, “But all I could think about were big scary teeth. And I didn't want to risk giving it those while you were holding it.”
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Michael Grosvenor
Why would you put that idea into my head?!
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Michael Grosvenor
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Jhonice Trevear
July 15, 2012 11:11 PM
Good, then we are on the same page. by Jhonice Trevear
Jhonice was upset, that much was fairly obvious. There had been a terrible accident over break, and Jhonice assumed that the teachers and staff here would have been told about it. When Sully called for Professor Brockert, she knew that the professor might already know. Despite what everyone kept telling her, it had all been her fault. Which she was muttering between sobs. "All my fault, all my fault..."Uncle Marshall, Aunt Gwen, Andrew and the new baby Giselle had come up to visit for the holiday. Andrew was showing off his latest project to the adults when she had burst into the room and upset everything. Andrew's thing went out of control and exploded which triggered a terrible chain reaction that involved a few items around the house and some strange potions that Aunt Gwen had been experimenting with. The investigators said it was a one in a million type of thing. It may actually have been quite humorous if Uncle Marshall and Aunt Gwen hadn't died. Andrew had been severely injured as well as her father. Luckily her mother was mostly unscathed, and Giselle only had a few minor injuries. A fair part of their house had suffered considerable damage and the ones not in the hospital had to move into a hotel for a few days. It was not a good break.
Realizing she was making something of a scene, she turned to flee from the classroom.
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Jhonice Trevear
Good, then we are on the same page.
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Jhonice Trevear
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5
I can accept that argument by Eliza
“Oh,” Eliza said, not able to think of anything better quite in time when Valerie admitted the headache was a new development. Headaches weren’t something that she knew a lot about, since she didn’t really have them. Her mother complained about them sometimes, but Eliza had long since stopped taking…anything her mother said, actually, but especially things her mother said about what they were all doing to her health, very seriously, so she couldn’t even say that she had an idea from observation. “Sorry about that. It’s still good work, though.”Work which she now had to match, because she was not about to be outdone by a third year, much less a third year who spent half her time in the hospital wing. Eliza could only remember even one time when she had been to the hospital wing in all her years at Sonora, and that had only happened because she’d gotten a cold during a snowball fight with her sister and brothers at home over midterm in third year but it hadn’t hit her until the day after she came back to school. She was, overall, she thought, pretty healthy; it was rare for her to get sick even when her siblings did. She was also no half-Squib, hardly able to figure out which way to point her wand and only able to get it to do what she wanted half the time. She could do this. She would do this.
“Amadgio,” she tried again, looking hard at her soccer ball and willing it to become an armadillo. She had no desire to see an armadillo, she had no use for an armadillo, but she did have the will to accomplish this task. She needed it to be an armadillo.
The ball shook violently, twisted, and then developed a hard, grayish surface which made a sound when she rapped her fingernails against it and didn’t vanish when she immediately lifted her hand to eye level to make sure she hadn’t chipped her nail polish. She looked on it with satisfaction, smiling brightly because something was going more or less her way. Frustration was something Eliza found easy, but which passed quickly as soon as what she wanted to happen occurred, or at least made a good show of starting to occur. She didn’t consider herself that hard to please.
“Good job getting in touch with your inner armadillo, Muggle toy,” she said to the ball, then turned back to Valerie. “And thank you, Miss Lennox. I think you must be inspirational or something.” ‘Or something,’ she thought, was something she could use to hide ‘the person to beat’ behind very neatly, without it stopping its habit of sounding like it was just an empty phrase used to end the sentence. She loved language, enough that she sometimes wished she knew another one, just to see what it could do. Not enough to go to that much trouble, she didn’t have that much time, but it did sound fun.
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Eliza
I can accept that argument
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Eliza
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Arista Thornton, Teppenpaw
August 01, 2012 7:10 PM
Soccerballs and armadillos by Arista Thornton, Teppenpaw
Arista had heard at the Returning Feast that the Midsummers Event was a Concert again and at the start she’d decided (while talking to Kirstenna) that she was going to sing something. Over the break before, Brielle had gotten her hooked on this relatively new musical from England which was based on the Patrick Swayze movie called Ghost. The music from the show was so pretty and once Kirstenna had mentioned singing, Arista had decided she’d do something from Ghost. The two songs she loved the most were ‘Here Right Now’ and ‘Suspend My Disbelief/I had a Life’. The thing was she’d wanted badly to use the latter. Only problem with that was that she needed a male to complete her duet…Even now, as she walked to Transfiguration class, she was humming from ‘Suspend My Disbelief’. She tried hard to think of anyone who’d want to join her as her second, even to do part of the just over nine minute song. Nobody came to mind. She’d wondered if she should just put up a note in the dorms for anyone interested, and thought she’d ask Professor Brockert after class what she thought of that idea.
Sitting in her chair, she wondered what the Soccer ball was on her desk for. Glancing up to the professor (and her head of house) she smiled at how obvious it was now, that she was with child. Arista had known almost from the get go, but hadn’t said anything. She knew what it looked like when a woman was with child. She’d seen it a number of time with her mother being Ris was the oldest of 16 children.
Professor Crosby-Brockert welcomed them and explained that they were going to be turning their soccer balls into armadillos. “Hm.” she said as she turned her head to watch the purple jet shoot out from her head of houses’ wand. “Amadgio.” she whispered as she wrote it out in her notes. She wrote the rest of the notes behind their teacher in her book and then looked back up at the professor. Brainstorm for extra assignment. Three feet of parchment on what we’ve learned this year? she thought, as Addi looked towards her as if to beg her to work together on the assignment. Arista looked away fast. It was nothing against her sister, but if she had to work with her she was sure that she’d want to hurt her. Addison had been clingy for years, and Arista was getting really tired of it. Arista had even been thinking about the possibility of talking to Professor Brockert about her and trying to help her younger sister stop being such a baby.
She had no questions so she pulled out her wand and pointed it right towards the ball. “Amadgio.” The ball was no longer there, in its place was a small armadillo. Arista smiled broadly to herself and left the armadillo there in front of her and wrote out a list of things she’d learned that year starting with Amadgio. Once she had her list, she turned the list into sentences and smiled as she edited over her sentences as class ended.
She glanced at her armadillo still sitting on her desk and wondered if she could take it home with her for Abi. It was kinda cute…
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Arista Thornton, Teppenpaw
Soccerballs and armadillos
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Arista Thornton, Teppenpaw
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