Wizarding Realm -> König Sommer führt den Tanz dem ich folg' im Blütenkranz
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 König Sommer führt den Tanz dem ich folg' im Blütenkranz, Gretchen <3
Erik Dwight
 Posted: Mar 13 2017, 10:58 AM
Quote

"I'll be your breath if you can be mine."

AGE:
16
YEAR:
6th
HOUSE:
Ravenclaw
CLASH:
neutral
HEIGHT:
5'7
STATUS:
Pureblood
POSTS:
4171
Rep: 50 pts [ + | - ]

Erik Dwight
© Tine // She/Her
Awards: 75



Gretchen,
I need your assistance in a very important matter.
Want to see something burn?
Meet me by the forest, Týr’s Day afternoon.
Xoxo Erik


Every end was a new beginning - at least that was what people said, just like they kept saying that something had to be destroyed in order to build something new out of the debris. Erik had never believed in these things - yet today, he was going to try and start believing, if only for the sake that something old had broken and needed to be removed from his life. The flower crown Sigurd Nilsson had made for him was still in his room, packed in a cardboard box where it was waiting for its funeral like a corpse in the mortuary. Ever since the afternoon his kitten had broken the fine braiding of lilies of the valley, it had been resting there, because he had not managed to throw it away. But then, Gretchen Kirke-Faust had kept to her promise and sent him a new flower crown to replace the old one - with different flowers, and so much more colourful than the first one had been.

He recognised the flowers, as flowers had already been a big part of his life. They were growing in the gardens and in the greenhouse his mother was mending, they hung from flower pots in front of the windows and were arranged in bouquets on every table and every surface. Greta Dwight, née Leander, had taught her son how to take care of them, and she had fuelled his rather unusual interest for Herbology. Bleeding Heart - Primrose - Baby Blue Eyes. These blossoms had been chosen to heal, to mend wounds that had been dug deep. And how was he supposed to thank her for this - how did one thank a girl one had never spoken to before, and would have never spoken to if it had not been for the fact that his cat had killed the flower crown he had guarded like a dragon would have guarded its favourite piece of gold? Erik did not know - and so the only way to thank her would be through this: a fire sacrifice, a pyre for the past - to Logi, to Heimdall, to Freyja and Frey. He had tried to drown the demons, yet they knew how to swim - now he was going to cleanse himself with fire instead, as fire was the clear opposite of water.

When Erik left the castle behind - two days after he had sent the message to Gretchen - the sky was already dipped in the pastel colours of a setting sun, clouds coloured in pink and orange on a background that was darkening, the tree tops of the forbidden forest sharp pencil lines against the blueish-purple colour. It was easy to walk over the lawns, the broken flower crown in his pale hands, held like a precious treasure and not a withering ring of lilies of the valley. Dried green leaves and tiny white petals were raining down as he walked, leaving a trail behind as he walked over the lawns towards the edge of the forest, where he placed the crown on a tree stump - a naturally given funeral pyre, just what he needed right now. The flower crown was not the only thing he had brought along, placing the green bottle filled with ale beside the stump before he waited.

A true viking funeral would need more than this - there needed to be more sacrifices made, more goods offered, more women kissed and slaughtered and more ale poured to the ground and down their throats. Yet for Erik’s purpose, this would be enough. It did not happen often that he remembered the traditions of his family; the rune patterns and pagan rites that were celebrated like in the old days, the Blóts and solstices. Today, he remembered them all, picking a small twig from the ground and holding the flame of his hot pink plastic lighter against it until he could smell burning wood, blowing against the small spark again as soon as the twig’s tip had blackened.

He did not have to turn around to hear the soft footsteps that approached, as if the wind was carrying a scent other than firs trees and fresh grass towards him. It made him shiver, but at least his hair was tied back today - loosely braided and falling over his back while he was holding the twig in his hand. “Ready to watch things burn?” he asked quietly, a small smirk on his lips before his green gaze finally settled on Gretchen.

@Gretchen Kirke-Faust
(clothes)
{inspiration song <3}

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Gretchen Kirke-Faust
 Posted: Jun 9 2017, 03:37 PM
Quote

"you come by it honestly, the ugliness inside you"

AGE:
15
YEAR:
5th
HOUSE:
Ravenclaw
CLASH:
Viridian Guild Leader
HEIGHT:
5'
STATUS:
Pureblood
POSTS:
1115
Rep: 51 pts [ + | - ]

Gretchen Kirke-Faust
© Robin // She/Her
Awards: 80



Gretchen Kirke-Faust seemed out of place in the summer, with her tights and tweed skirts, and a colour palette that matched a twilight rather than a sun filled noon. She was a child of winter through and through, cold, harsh and unforgiving. Unyielding too, lacking the adaptability of spring and autumn, clinging at what was familiar in fear of change. Astrology and its debatable effects on people's personality aside, the summer months simply weren’t kind to the girl, her preferred clothing ill-suited for their temperatures and her skin easily burned. She'd also spend most of the summer inside her home in Kensington – alone, most days, her free time going to spell books and cauldrons. Her father would be pleased, she told herself, with her OWL grades. She knew she’d done well, and the rapport card would arrive in the summer to tell her, and the parent she both looked up to and seemed to dread, just how well. Wasn’t that something to look forward to, at least?

She made her way across the lawns with short but swift strides, grateful that the end of the day came with a cooler temperature than it had been throughout. Next to her, Billy walked closed to the ground, the grass hiding most of his white belly, allowing the kneazlecat to disappear in the settling darkness. She wasn’t worried about finding the older Ravenclaw, trusting that her pet would notice his presence as soon as they arrived, and she’d never even have to start searching.

To be entirely honest, when Gretchen had received Dwight’s letter, she hadn’t known how to respond. For hours, she had simply paced in circles in her dorm room, her cat languidly watching her from her bed. It could be a trap, she reasoned. Never should she let anyone lure her to the edge of the forest. Especially not one who bore the name Dwight. Yet as much as the paranoid part of her mind – or, her father’s voice, to be precise – told her maybe he means you, she had known exactly what he was referring to the moment she had read the letter. More than that, she didn’t just know what he was planning to burn – she knew that in a way, she had set him up to it. Hadn’t she told him that he needed to heal? Hadn’t she made him a new flower crown, to forget about the old one? With or without showing up, she had already played a role in this.

So there she was, following her cat to the edge of the forest. The shadows of the trees loomed over the stump that Erik had chosen, and Gretchen had to suppress a shiver despite the crocheted shirt she was wearing. It was just the kind of effect that the dark forest seemed to have on people. Dwight could not have chosen a better place to banish his demons. When she walked up to him, he was already armed with a lighter and a small twig.

“That’s why I’m here.” No time for pleasantries, because what would be the point anyway? They weren’t acquainted – they weren’t supposed to be. It was only this that bound them, the broken flower crown that lay before them on the tree stump, ready to be turned to ashes. In a way she envied Dwight. Burning this was like burning a memory, the first step towards freedom – towards a life that wasn’t haunted by the presence of his ex-boyfriend. Gretchen wished she could burn her own memories starring Sigurd Nilsson as well. But she didn’t show up for that to resurface again, or to let Sigurd occupy her fretting thoughts. No, she was here to assist her housemate in destroying a fond keepsake that had become cursed – not by spell work, but by matters of the heart.

She was here, not for reminiscing, but for new beginnings.

“I…” While her right hand held her wand, her left moved to her bag, where it hesitated. Something told her that he wouldn’t tell, though she had nothing to back that feeling up. The moment just felt like it existed in its own bubble, and that the two of them would never have to speak about this outside of it. It was a trip through the looking glass, evident by how mad the idea was – and it only made sense there and then.

“I have something to burn as well, if we’re doing this.”

----
@Erik Dwight

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Erik Dwight
 Posted: Jun 11 2017, 01:55 PM
Quote

"I'll be your breath if you can be mine."

AGE:
16
YEAR:
6th
HOUSE:
Ravenclaw
CLASH:
neutral
HEIGHT:
5'7
STATUS:
Pureblood
POSTS:
4171
Rep: 50 pts [ + | - ]

Erik Dwight
© Tine // She/Her
Awards: 75



Nothing made sure that Gretchen would indeed come down, as nothing was really connected the two of them. She had seen Erik cry, but so had several healers in St. Mungo’s, and still he was not meeting up with them to burn what was left of the caraphernelia the boy found himself staring at. The flower crown was not the only thing. Every now and then, he still found random bobby pins in between the mess on his nightstand, well aware he had never used those - and what could he do if not keep them and put them aside instead of throwing them away? If it had not been for his kitten’s destructive behaviour and his little chat with Gretchen on the floor of their common room, he would still keep this crown of lilies of the valley instead of getting rid of it. Maybe he should have brought these pins along, too, even though he knew metal did not burn like that. A cold breeze was rising from the lake, blowing in the direction of where he had placed himself - well, it wasn’t bothering the boy as long as it was not going to carry sparks towards the forest and set all the trees ablaze. He was looking for catharsis, but not in the shape of burning down the forbidden forest by accident.

Little did Erik know about Gretchen’s inner struggles, because they barely knew anything about each other. That was the important part of all of this - she wouldn’t know enough about him to really judge him, apart from those things (no matter how exaggerated) most people at Hogwarts knew. There were no friendly ties between them, and they rarely shared classes as well. Still it had to be her who witnessed the small exorcism he was going to perform, because one did not simply invite one’s new boyfriend to burn something that had been a birthday gift from one’s ex-boyfriend - an ex-boyfriend whose presence was still haunting him at times, if only for the way they had broken up in the end. The Yaxley ball was still lurking in the back of his mind, nightmare material if Erik would only sleep enough to have actual nightmares.

Then she was there, with that fluffy cat of hers, and Erik smiled just a little at the way she greeted him - with no greeting at all. This was business, not a true sacrifice to the Gods. There would be no celebration, no dance around a fire, no blood spilled. Pale fingers played with the lighter, letting the flame flicker for a moment only to extinguish it again - a clear sign of how nervous Erik was while he watched her, curiously tilting his head at Gretchen’s movements and the words that followed. “Sure, if you deem that funeral pyre big enough,” he said and waved at the tree stump that might as well indeed be an altar for a true blót. Ceasing his nervous lighter games, the long-haired boy reached for the bottle of ale again, wrinkling his nose because he had never been too fond of such drinks. Not that he was supposed to drink at all, but minor details.

Another breeze brushed past them and he shivered, stepping aside to make room for Gretchen’s sacrifice, curiosity displayed on his face. “You want some of this?” he asked, offering the green bottle towards the younger girl without a care for tempting underage students with alcohol. Then he crouched down beside the stump, taking the twig he had been going to set on fire - a twig of a pine tree after all - before he carved the sharp shape of Kauno into the soil beside the pyre, two sharp lines with a single connection. A torch alight is known to all alive. Brilliant and bright, it burns most oft where aethlings rest themselves within. Kauno for fire and enlightenment, for new beginnings and new understandings. Erik did not know if Gretchen was aware of these things, yet he added the rune to make sure these flames would finally erase everything that threatened to tear him down again and again. Green eyes settled on her once more, waiting for a sign to get started while his knees connected with the cool, moist earth.

@Gretchen Kirke-Faust

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Gretchen Kirke-Faust
 Posted: Sep 29 2017, 04:10 PM
Quote

"you come by it honestly, the ugliness inside you"

AGE:
15
YEAR:
5th
HOUSE:
Ravenclaw
CLASH:
Viridian Guild Leader
HEIGHT:
5'
STATUS:
Pureblood
POSTS:
1115
Rep: 51 pts [ + | - ]

Gretchen Kirke-Faust
© Robin // She/Her
Awards: 80



Her left hand rested on her bag for a tad longer, her eyes fixed on the pyre. She knew she should have her eyes on Dwight – nothing personal, really, she was taught to always keep an eye on the people around her – but it felt like there was simply no place for her paranoia in this moment. Her shoulders were tense, and the fingers on her right hand were cramped around her wand, yet the atmosphere around them was tranquil. Gretchen wasn’t sure how to describe the feeling – as if she ever knew how to describe feelings – but it was as if she wasn’t even really there. As if the two teenagers were merely figures in a painting, hanging somewhere in the entrance hall, the scene they found themselves in tiny and unnoticed, as real life passed it by. Noisily. Hastily. But in the painting, time stood still.

She opened her bag and navigated its contents by touch – she had to push a few books away, and a couple of potion flasks that made a dangerously clinging sound when they toppled over – until her fingertips finally brushed against textile. The metal clasps clicking into each other as she closed her bag again made a sound as sharp as the cold breeze that caught the teens by surprise and swayed the overgrown grass at their feet. She was holding a doll now, to make this day feel even more surreal, and it was an ugly doll too. Although it was in mint condition, its face looked like the dried peaches Timothy had given her once – orange and shrivelled up. There was a mop of yellow fibres posing for hair, looking cheap because of its gilded colour choice alone.

Gretchen looked at the thing in her hand as if it was alien, a strange contraption of which she wasn’t sure how it had come into her possession in the first place. Which was partly true – Leonard Plunkett had given it to her rather recently, with no explanation aside from that it had to be destroyed. Despite the Slytherin’s claims that it was evil, Gretchen had found no trace of curses, or any other kind of enchantment, that could’ve been placed on the doll. Still, if it would give him peace of mind… He had come to her for this, after all – which was slightly baffling in itself, yet not unwelcome. She wondered if, after their alliance in the chalet, and after going to the carnival, they were friends now. That’s a bit of a reach, her mind would immediately tell her, but still – he’d entrusted her with this, hadn’t he? So… maybe?

“No, thanks,” she answered dully. She would’ve made a snide remark about his nonchalant attitude towards alcohol, but it felt unnecessary and out of place – the broken flower crown on the stump a reminder of the weight on the young man’s soul. Being considerate wasn’t exactly in the Faust’s nature, but the memory of the older Ravenclaw crying on the common room’s navy carpet was both fresh and uncomfortable, and she reminded herself that there was no battle to be won here. They were here for healing. Healing and new beginnings.

She took a deep breath, for new beginnings, and added the doll to the pyre, where its stuffed body couldn’t sit upright and sagged. “Don’t ask. In return I won’t pester you with questions either.” That, she meant. She’d seen Dwight with his boyfriend in the Quidditch stands, but she wasn’t going to ask if he’d moved on. For once in her life, aided by the sacred atmosphere of the scene, Gretchen recognised that it wasn’t any of her business. She took a step back, her now free left hand finding her right wrist to hold onto as she waited for Erik to finish the markings. Ancient Runes was a class she struggled with, demanding a lot of studying to keep her grades up, as she clearly didn’t have a talent for it. Still, she wasn’t going to ask what they meant. She’d just had to let him do his thing – this was, first and foremost, his cleansing fire anyway, so he should know what he was doing. In the meantime, Billy, who had wandered off to inspect the edge of the forest, to see if any dangers were lurking behind those trees or in those shadows, returned by his witch’s side.

“You’re ready?” The question sounded rhetorical, though an answer was necessary for the burning to start. Perhaps languidly was a better description – the way words rolled out of Gretchen’s mouth, as if she had to uncurl her tongue to spill sounds that had been tucked there, softening the sharp edges of her treble voice.

---
@Erik Dwight

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Erik Dwight
 Posted: Oct 18 2017, 06:13 AM
Quote

"I'll be your breath if you can be mine."

AGE:
16
YEAR:
6th
HOUSE:
Ravenclaw
CLASH:
neutral
HEIGHT:
5'7
STATUS:
Pureblood
POSTS:
4171
Rep: 50 pts [ + | - ]

Erik Dwight
© Tine // She/Her
Awards: 75



There was no rule that determined that sacrifices and rituals had to be made in the company of those one held close to the heart, yet Erik did not know whether doing it with someone who could easily be considered a complete stranger really had the same effect as doing it with someone he cared about. Vague memories of midsummer fires, of granted wishes and poured ale came to the boy’s mind while he looked at the abandoned flower crown on the tree trunk that looked so meaningless in the light of a slowly setting sun. Items shouldn’t be able to hold so much meaning, and he took a mental note to give his kitten some extra treats once he was back in his dorm. But there were more pressing issues at hand, and it did not take a seer to realise that Gretchen was not trusting him at all. It showed in the way she denied the ale and the tension of her body, a tension people usually did not show around Erik Dwight. He was considered harmless, prey more than predator – and yet there she was, acting as if he was going to set her on fire instead of the flower crown.

He had not expected her to bring something to burn, but more items also meant a bigger fire – and it was only fair to allow her to participate rather than watch only, green eyes settling on the lump of fabric he only identified as a doll when she placed it on the trunk. Erik did not intend to ask any questions, but he smiled a little – the mere shade of it tugging on the corners of chapped and pierced lips. “That’s quite an ugly doll, I’d burn it too,” he remarked with a shrug, because it was the truth – even though he had never really played with dolls. The ones he had held had belonged to Sighild Larsson, but he had never known what to do with them and soon handed them back instead of playing with them. Stuffed animals were easier to handle, and there were still a few in his bed: a small octopus, a reindeer, a worn-out seagull that had always belonged to him. Shoved underneath his pillow, they were comfortable to lie on, and yet Erik wondered why his thoughts were straying away. Cleansing fires needed a certain determination, much like Unforgivable Curses needed to be spoken with intent behind them.

Swallowing, the boy nodded at his fellow eagle’s question, because he was ready to burn these things, to finally write the epilogue to a story that had gone wrong – a fairytale gone bad indeed, with a beautiful prelude and a sad climax. Once more, pale hands reached for the bottle of ale as he poured the content over the doll and the crown shaped out of lilies of the valley, beautiful and yet poisonous to some. Erik took a deep breath and reached into his pocket, extracting his hot pink plastic lighter that showed some liquid inside it – it would be enough for that flame. He did not bother with any more words, because he did not know what else could be said when there were two strangers burning items to chase away demons that refused to leave all by themselves. “Aye,” he merely said before running his thumb over the small wheel on the lighter, sparking the flame and lighting the twig in his hand. For a moment, he watched the flame dance – bright yellow with a blueish center, smoke rising from the wood – before he tossed the twig onto the small pyre they had built.

The ale caught fire quickly, and he could hear the soft crackling of the flames as they licked on dried vines and white blossoms, on the ribbon that held everything together. Once the fire touched the doll, there was an odd scent in the air – melting plastic, even though Erik could not identify it as such. He just watched, hands shoved into the pockets of his pants as the rune he had carved lit up for a moment and the flames grew higher, burning everything they had offered to the Gods above and below to mere ashes and blackening the tree trunk. Some claimed to see the future in the smoke that rose from ritualistic fires, yet Erik was not one of them – and even if he could, he wouldn’t want to see what the future held even when he had finally managed to part with one of the strings that still tied him to the past. When they walked back to the castle, the sun had set completely, and the sky was painted in shades of purple, single stars twinkling above their heads while Erik could smell the smoke in his hair and his clothes. And as odd as it sounded, he felt lighter than before, relieved to have ridden himself of one of the many weights that always threatened to drown him.

@Gretchen Kirke-Faust

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