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Posted: Apr 17 2017, 10:41 PM
Sometimes, something had to give. Belvedere felt an itch, and it seemed he couldn't satisfy it. Days like these were made for rigorous work; work that left him drained, but with a sharpness about his drive and determination. Days that he woke starving and nothing would sate him, when he went to bed hungry for more. He had collected his book, shedding his cloak and strode pointedly down hallway after hallway. He'd developed a map in his mind, a lexicon of loneliness, where he could find space no one else had inhabited. If he wanted to be alone, he knew at least two dozen places in this castle where he could temporarily escape social interaction and do what he had to do.
Today was one of those times. He checked his time table (despite having memorized it) and then loosened his tie as he knocked thrice at the classroom door. No one beckoned from the other side, and thus he opened it and stepped into the empty classroom. It was abandoned for now, dusty, but he paid little mind. He whisked his book open to the prominent page, but paid little mind to it for now. He strode around the room for a minute or two in order to collect several mundane objects: an old ink bottle, a dusty book, a quill, a shoe which for some reason had been left here. He lined them up on four separate desks and then he raised his wand.
There was an itch in his core. Frustration, and a lot of it. His aunt had always given him things to destroy when this had taken a grip too vice-like to be easily unwound. He remembered destroying a styrofoam holder for something until the little white particles had taken a few vaccuum-passes to get out of the rug and all she had asked is if he felt better.
He whisked his wand from his pocket and pointed it at the ink bottle. "Diffindo!" It smashed before he was finished saying the word. Glass peppered the floor and his shoes, but before he could react he snapped his aim to the book: "Incendio!" The book caught fire- "Ardor Glacio!" The flames ceased destroying it immediately, and it flickered harmlessly on the desk as he switched his aim, still rapidly, to the quill- "Confringo!" With a hiss, it exploded into feathery particles- and finally the shoe, he snapped: "Reducto!" The shoe was forcefully propelled back, hitting the opposite wall of the class with a thump before it hit the floor.
He hadn't realized how loudly he was speaking- or how viciously- until he was finished and short of breath. Belvedere inhaled with practice, let his eyes flicker closed for a moment and then relaxed his muscles and nerves. With a flick of his wand and a murmur, he repaired the inkbottle and the quill, and he used a quiet 'accio' to recall the shoe to the desk in front of him before he trailed toward the firey book. It wasn't burning, and it's flames were harmless to him after the spell he'd cast. He felt a warm flickering over his skin as he seized it and let it fall open, held in place with his palm over the spine and his piano-player's fingers holding it open. It was a notebook, seemingly.
'Yes, I'm calm, Aunt Nicki.' He'd said as a little kid, styrofoam engrained in the carpet. He wondered if destruction is what it took for him to feel better.
Posted: Apr 22 2017, 12:55 PM
The cool castle air nipped at the light olive-toned, smooth skin across the girl’s mid drift and arms causing a small shiver to rattle her body. Picking up the pace, Jetta hurried down the hall to one of the more secluded areas on the school’s campus. She didn’t mind the glances and stares as she sauntered quickly to her destination. The eyes glued to the girl’s well-proportioned figure made her feel sexy and gave her an inflated of importance. Unfortunately, this feeling leaked out of her faster than tire that had ran over a nail and thus require frequent refilling.
Upon arriving to one of her usual spots, the snake was stopped suddenly in her tracks when a voice, muffled by the closed door, assaulted her ears. A sense of irritation mixed with a hint of disappointment washed over her as she sighed. “Are you fucking kidding me?” she muttered, whirling around violently. Just as she was about to storm away, the witch changed her mind. She was Jetta Stone and she wasn’t about to let anyone get in the way of what she wanted. Turning back towards the door, she shoved it out of her way and strode into the area.
Her cold grey eyes settled on the figure of a boy who occupied the space. The light of a small fire cast strange shadows on his face and around the room. With her arms crossed and her brow set in a stern line, she made a bee line towards him. Not many people knew that she used these rooms for practice, meaning it wouldn’t be fair for her to blame him for taking her usual practice spot, but Jetta rarely played fair especially when she didn’t get her way. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing in here?” The words left her mouth in a fierce hiss as her eyes narrowed into angry slits.
The reached around and took her wand from the bag slung lazily over her shoulder. With a quick, fluid flick, followed by a curt “aguamenti,” she put out the fire with a short burst of water. Then, dropping the pack on the ground, she dropped her tool back into it and put her hands on her hips. “Now, I’m only going to say this once. I want you to leave. Now. I’m going to be using it for however long I fucking want to. You can take your petty parlour tricks elsewhere, got it? Off you go now.” The expression on her face was smug. She always got her way.