Selina Skies

November 25, 2019 4:09 AM
In the centre of the Quidditch pitch stood the makings of a fire. Not yet lit, Selina supposed a more accurate description was ‘a large formation of wood.’ And yet, everyone knew its purpose, the thing it was about to become. It was a fire-in-waiting. To one side of it were gathered tents where the students would spend the nights in groups of three or more. That was up to them to choose and arrange, and the tents would sort themselves out accordingly. There was a dividing line down the middle to stop boys crossing into girls’ tents and vice versa, and a rule of three minimum because the staff were not naïve enough to think that such a line ruled out the possibility of couples sharing.



The headmaster stood, officially opening the end of term event and announcing the house cup winners. For the first time that she could remember, it was a dead heat, with Teppenpaw and Pecari tying. After that, as the midsummer event required more lengthy explanation, and one with feelings at its centre, the actual ceremony around the fire had been handed over to Selina.



“Thank you headmaster, and congratulations to Teppenpaw and Pecari,” she smiled. “I have quite a lot of talking to do this evening, so I have enlisted some help.” She waved her wand, and from behind the stage three portraits came forward and floated down to the ground, leaning back against the stage. This had been an idea she had got courtesy of one student in particular during the challenges, and the familiar face of Professor Schmitt was amongst the portraits now lined up. Normally, the international students had to get along as best they could – they had come to an English medium school after all – but given some of the themes of her speech, and its complexity, she had wanted to make sure she was including them.



“Miss Barres speaks Russian,” she gestured to the portrait of a slender ballerina in the centre – she had been more challenging to find, as – although her English was somewhat accented – she had clearly anglicised her name, besides which the number of Russian-speakers was overall far fewer, and “Mr. Le Croix speaks French,” French-speakers were easier, as there were any number of Pureblood paintings who had studied languages, but Mr. Le Croix had the benefit of being a native speaker, and had seemed amicable. She had not included a Chinese-speaking picture owing to the fact that Dorian would not need to be listening to two portraits at once (in reality, he probably needed to listen to none at all, but there were other French-speaking students in the school, and it seemed rude not to include it). “If anyone would like to come closer to hear them, you are welcome to.



“For our bonfire this year, we have looked into traditions surrounding fire. Many cultures use fire in celebrations and in ceremonies. First and foremost, fire drives out the dark. In some cases, this is literal. Where winters are cold and dark, fire is often celebrated as the force that will drive out the cold and bring light in the new year. In Fukoka, Japan, the Oniyo ceremony is used to drive away evil spirits, and many other similar traditions exist worldwide. In other places, fire cleanses – it gets rid of the old and allows space for the new. In Hindu practise, fire ceremonies called yajna clear obstacles that would prevent us achieving a spiritual balance.



“We did not want to mimic a ritual that belongs to someone else, but we did want to take the idea of celebrating fire. We have a diverse number of cultures interacting here, making up our own Sonora culture, and that in itself is worth celebrating. We also saw the same ideas recurring again and again in the fire ceremonies of the world – burning away the bad, inviting in the good, cleansing and making offerings.



“It has probably been a difficult year for all of you, at some points,” there were some cases, of course, where they knew that to be true. It felt like it had been a heavy year. But even without that, there were the many cases of every day suffering that made up life in general, and adolescence in particular. “It may not seem like it from where each of you is standing. It may seem like almost everyone around you is so much more certain, so much surer and so much happier than you. However, this time of your lives is filled with uncertainty for all of you, as you discover who you are, where your place is in the world, what your voice and your magic mean to you, and what you want to use them to say and do.



“We hope we can help you with those problems. Not with the kind of magic that flashes and transforms the world in an instant, but with the more old-fashioned kinds. Listening. Patience. Love. And we wanted to take our fire tonight as a chance to let go of some of those feelings, some of the things that may have weighed you down. We are going to light the fire at the end of this speech. After that, you will have an hour to mingle, to spend time with your friends and get some food. All good things that help the soul. You will also have the choice of adding something to this box,” she held up a simple looking black wooden box. “Something that has weighed you down, something you’re afraid of – something you would rather was off your mind. After an hour, we will be pouring those parchments onto the fire. The smoke has been enchanted to spell out what is written on the papers. You can watch your fears, and the things you’ve been holding onto, drift up and break apart as the smoke dissipates. And maybe that will leave you feeling a little lighter. Try to imagine what you would say if a friend came to you with the same problem." The technique was page one of the psychology textbook, but it had stayed that way for a long time for good reason. "We often find it easier to be kind to others than to ourselves, and to see solutions as meaningful if we were giving rather than hearing them.



“Some practicalities. Firstly, what you write will be visible to others in the smoke. Participating is a choice – you do not have to,” these two points had been made already but were worth reiterating. “You do not have to admit who you are in what you write. If there are any things, such as your use of English or your spelling, that would give you away, and if you would like corrected, please note it on your paper. The staff will read the papers before they go into the fire, in order to check for anything inappropriate,” she stated. Sonora students were, on the whole, well behaved, but they were teenagers. Given the recent contributions to the bathroom décor, she could not rule out the idea of this exercise being used to spread gossip. Or, for the more childish amongst them, to simply try to create giant smoke letters spelling out obscenities. The thought of a litany of swearing drifting into the ether was almost amusing enough, almost a good enough break to the tension that had been pervading the year, that she would have been quite tempted to let it pass.



“Please sign your paper with an ‘x’ using the quill provided. This allows us to trace the papers back to their writers. We will only do this in two circumstances. Firstly, if we think that someone is trying to write hurtful things or start rumours about other people. Secondly, if what you write makes us fear for your or someone else’s safety.



“The box is going to be placed behind a variation of the disillusionment charm. Whilst you will all be able to see the box, your attention will have a tendency to wander away from it. Thus anyone who chooses to place something in the box can do so knowing that their classmates will not really notice them doing so,” she explained. The one complication with this that she had not thought to address was if two people crossed that line at the same time. If they found themselves inside the enchantment together, perhaps it would not be quite so effective.



“If anyone has questions or concerns about this, please come to see me. We hope this activity will be a chance for you to get things off your mind, and to clear your thoughts before the summer.”



OOC – welcome to the fire! I hope the above is clear. If you have questions, you can ask me in chatzy. There will not be a separate post of the papers going on the fire. You may post your character engaging in any of the fire activities - spending time with friends, putting their paper in the box, watching theirs or others’ words in the smoke, or settling down in their tent for the night.



Subthreads:
13 Selina Skies The Bonfire - Let it All Drift Away 26 1 5

Anya Delachene

November 26, 2019 4:07 PM
Anya was not without friends. She got on well with Freddie, and there weren’t really any people she disliked exactly, but . . . she just hadn’t made many close friends. Nobody that she immediately thought of when the option of have a sleepover with other girls was presented to her.

Honestly, her first thought was Jasmine, but she didn’t think Jasmine would be too keen on that. She had Peyton, and Ruby, and Cleo, and Tatiana who were all closer to her in age and interests. Anya was just the little sister.

She was consequently quite surprised when she noticed Jasmine heading right for her after the Headmaster and Deputy Headmistress were done talking to them. Expecting congratulations for Pecari’s win, as that was the first explanation that occurred to her, she was further taken aback when Jasmine said instead, “Anya, there’s a girl.” She stopped, debated with herself, her head tilting from side to side as the internal arguments rebounded within her skull, until she reached a conclusion and she nodded in agreement with herself. Jasmine was easy enough to read and Anya knew her well enough that she understood Jasmine still wasn’t entirely convinced by her own arguments but she didn’t see any better options. So it was going to be a lesser evil, telling Anya whatever she was going to say.

“Promise not to tell anyone?” her sister demanded.

Anya was confused but not confused enough to think she was promising not to tell anyone that there was a girl. Whoever the girl was. But her existence was not the secret. It was what Jasmine had yet to tell her. “I promise,” she swore very seriously because Jasmine never just wanted to tell her secrets for no reason. This was, in fact, the only vow of silence she had ever demanded of Anya. Anya wouldn’t let her down.

Jasmine looked around furtively, telegraphing to everyone nearby she was Up To No Good. Anya rolled her eyes, grabbed her sister by the wrist, and dragged her off to an actually private location appropriate for sharing secrets. On top of the broom shed.

Jasmine looked kind of terrified but appreciative of Anya’s dedication to keeping the secret. In barely more than a whisper, she told Anya’s left ear, “There’s a trans girl in your year. She’s probably scared to tent with anyone. Be nice to her. Help her out.”

If Anya had to guess that any of the girls in her year hadn’t been born biologically female, even knowing better, she’d have had to guess herself. “Who?”

“You’ll help her?” Jasmine pressed. “You won’t scare her or act weird if you know?”

Anya gave her sister an unimpressed look. “According to you, I always act weird.”

“Broom. Shed. Roof.” Jasmine pointed out tersely. But then she relented, “But that’s not what I meant.”

Anya knew that wasn’t what she meant. Anya just thought she deserved to be messed with for doubting her. “Of course I’ll be nice, and won’t act weird, and I’ll help her. Who is she?”

Jasmine looked relieved. “Ellie.”

“Pshaw,” Anya scoffed, “She’s totally a girl. I’m more a boy than she is.”

Jasmine bit back an answer, but her guilty look said she had just barely refrained from saying something that probably would have offended Anya even as she was asking her sister for a favor. Anya gave her a narrowed eyed look of wary distrust. “I’m not,” she stated, in case Jasmine had doubts. She might not be a girly-girl like Jasmine and Ellie were, but that didn’t make her any less of a girl.

“I know,” Jasmine promised. “That’s why I’m asking you to help her. If you were a boy, you wouldn’t be allowed in the same tent.”

“Fine,” Anya agreed, her huffiness having everything to do with Jasmine and nothing to do with Ellie. “You can get down, right?” she asked and then jumped off the roof without waiting for an affirmative. Jasmine was a fifth year. If she couldn’t get off a little broom shed without Anya’s help, she had no business calling herself a witch.

Anya darted in and out amongst the other Sonorans, looking for Ellie. She saw the box that they were supposed to put their concerns into, and Anya debated if she had any. She decided the only significant one was about Mom but there was no way she was going to whine that her mother didn’t love her in front of everybody.

So . . . there! She spotted Ellie and headed right for her.

“Hi!” she greeted cheerfully. “Ellie, right?” she asked, more as a formality than anything. She knew who Ellie was. Their class wasn’t that big. “Jasmine said you’re cool,” which was not what Jasmine said at all. If Jasmine said that, it wouldn’t mean anything to Anya anyway. Their opinions of what was cool overlapped on exactly one thing: horses. But Ellie was important to Jasmine. Jasmine wouldn’t have come to Anya with this if she wasn’t. And the people who were important to Jasmine were important to Anya.

That was what made them sisters.

“She thought maybe we should tent together? If you want to?” Putting it on Jasmine would hopefully clue Ellie in that she was trustworthy without actually needing to say out loud what she was being trusted with. She’d promised Jasmine to keep the secret and not scare Ellie, after all.
1 Anya Delachene The sister of my sister is my sister (tag Ellie) 1453 0 5

Ellie Alperton

November 27, 2019 8:42 PM
CW: dysphoria, transphobia

Ellie had every right to be in a girls' tent because she was a girl. She tried to keep that in mind as she surveyed the tents nervously. On the one hand, it wasn't like she didn't already share with another girl, on a whole corridor of other girls, none of whom she had told. And it shouldn't be anyone's business but hers. It wasn't. She knew it wasn't. No one else felt like they were under preasure to disclose personal information about themselves to screen their tent buddies and find out if they found them acceptable. She knew there was no burden on her to go around outing herself until she found people who weren't bigots. She knew it all in theory. All the right answers to who was in the wrong. She was not sneaking or lying and she wasn't something dirty. It was just hard not to feel that, just a little bit, when you knew that opinion existed. Even when she was able to swallow it down and ascribe the fault entirely where it belonged, it was still scary because it could still hurt her. If her tent mates found out and rejected her or worse; they were the bad people but she was still the one that got hurt.

The theme of the bonfire gave her plenty to think about. A full school year of being Ellie had been wonderful. She felt more confortable than she ever had before in her own skin, but new situations still kind of freaked her out. There was still the weight of living feeling like she had a secret. It was better than living a lie, and she would have had the same secret even if she had carried on under her dead name, it just would have been buried deeper. She thought it might be nice if more people than Jasmine knew though. It might feel easier. There were still moments when she caught sight of herself in the mirror and wasn't sure why everyone couldn't see it. This was entirely in her own head, of course. There was nothing about her pre-pubescent features to suggest boy or girl, but she coded herself as the latter, with long hair, sparkly clothes and pierced ears. There was nothing to see except Ellie, except when Ellie herself was the one looking.

On the former note, she supposed she could use the bonfire's theme to good advantage. She wasn't going to declare herself to everyone but perhaps she could nudge that door open just a little...

She had just done slipping her carefully worded worry into the box, when Anya approached her. She was a little surprised when Anya came bouncing up to her as they had never really spoken much. They seemed kind of different, to put it mildly. Anya was sort of rough and tumble, a bunch of things that Ellie had never been inclined to be anyway but also felt, in a sense, that she couldn't afford to be. Anya had been given a pass on being a girl the moment she was born, so she could treat it how she liked and bend as many rules as she wanted. Ellie was always going to have to earn hers. And she liked pink and butterflies. She genuinely did. She just had no idea what it would look like if she didn't...

"She did?" Ellie replied, looking both wide-eyed surprised but also deeply honoured at the idea that Jasmine had called her 'cool.' A slight flicker crossed her face. The look of someone wondering what exactly has been said about them out of earshot. What did it mean for Jasmine to be setting her and Anya up together? Had she told? There were two possibilities; either Jasmine had told Anya and Anya was fine with it, or Jasmine had not told Anya but knew she was someone who could be trusted to be fine with it. Ellie was not sure how she felt about the idea of Jasmine telling. That wasn't a thing you were supposed to do. She pushed the thought aside because she had felt bad for her traitorous thoughts about Jasmine last time she had had them. And if Jasmine had wanted to know if she needed a hand, she could have just come asked her, and probably would have. After all, Ellie was like... the definition of non-threatening and Jasmine was a fifth year. She was allowed to come and just talk to Ellie if she wanted. But she clearly was still trying to look out for her and that made her feel fuzzy and warm.

"I'd like that," she smiled gratefully at the idea of sharing a tent. "If you want to as well?" she added. She sort of got the feeling that Anya wouldn't be over here asking if she didn't want to - after all, Anya did not even seem to really follow things that she was very much required to do, like wear her uniform and stay in her seat. But she had said it was Jasmine's idea, so it had seemed polite to check though now she had said it out loud it just sounded kinda dumb. "You sister's really nice," she added, instead focusing on the piece of common ground they had, outside of being first years.

13 Ellie Alperton Really? Eee! 1456 0 5