An AU Harry potter rp set in the present day
The storm shall pass
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After the Mysterious Wizard had posed his question, a loud CRACK resonated across the snowscape. As if with an ear to the ground and a flair for impeccable timing, the unraveling twirl of a pink robe signaled the arrival of the Headmistress. A certain gravitas emanating about her, she walked towards the man, arms extended. The words that left her lips sent a wave of hushed conversation over the crowd: "Nicholas, it's good to see you!"
The two of them hugged, the way childhood friends might when finally reuniting after decades. They were an odd pair, completely oblivious to the curious looks they garnered, acting as if the earlier chaos had never taken place—and a couple of swish and flicks of their wands later, it was almost like it never had. The Whomping Willow once again left in peace, the only indication a crash even happened were the shapes embedded into the white landscape, which quickly disappeared beneath the snowfall: several trails of hoofprints from when the reindeer were led to the stables, odd shapes from where shattered toy pieces were plucked up and tucked into a large rucksack, and finally, the massive footsteps of the Mysterious Stranger himself as was accompanied by the Headmistress into the entrance hall.
"Alright, stop gawking and get back to minding your own businesses, alright?" one of the staff members called, ushering the pockets of students away. "Show's over!"
Of course, things rarely just ever end at Hogwarts.
The following morning, the student body and the staff that watched them were gathered into the Great Hall after breakfast. At the front stood the Headmistress, one of the few people who could cast a silence across hundreds of children and teenagers with only a stare. At her side, stood her new companion, the glimmer of a smile forever etched at the corner of his lips. And behind them, on a large table, sat two piles: one of tools and the other of what appeared to be toy pieces.
When the lady in pink finally spoke, and the chatter came to a halt.
"As I'm sure many of you are aware by now, we have received a visitor. Who he is doesn't matter in particular; what does matter, however, is that he requires our assistance. You may have heard his request yesterday, but let me formally extend this out to the entire school. Our visitor needs help repairing some of his belongings that were smashed in the unfortunate incident with the Whomping Willow that took place yesterday. A good portion of it, however, is irreparable. As such, we would like to ask for your help to make new toys."
"Your hard work won't go unrewarded, of course – even though I like to think that you all would help someone out simply for the sake of helping. Many of you have probably seen or heard about the Christmas Tree in the courtyard, as well as the impressive pile of presents beneath it. If you lend your assistance, you will either be entitled to one of these presents. While none of them belong to any one person in particular, let's just say that a little magic will eventually lead you to the present that's perfect for you. If material objects aren't your desire, however, we also have another means of rewarding you, though that is all I will say about that." An enigmatic smile on her face, she peered into the crowd, amused by the expressions of bewilderment, confusion, and doubt. "No worries about how we will know who helped and the like. Just know, that we will." She clapped her hands together, and it echoed louder than it should have. "For those of you who do not wish to participate, you may stand up and take your leave. As for the rest of you, let's get started, shall we?"
OOC: After you've signed up for the event, you can start building toys here. Include a dice roll at the end of your post to see how succesful your attempt was:
If you roll a 1, your toy is an abomination. Oh well, you tried!
If you roll a 2, there might be some slight defects, or some chips of paint, but nothing major.
If you roll a 3, you have a perfect toy!
Whether you roll a 1,2, or 3, every effort counts towards the reward. Just add the number you rolled to your meter to keep track of your progress. Good luck!
He looked familiar in the ways she might recognize something she’d only seen in a dream. Catrine couldn’t exactly say how it was possible, but the bizarre circumstances of his arrival had her mind racing to place him, though only coming short so far. Despite that, the girl supposed to wasn’t an awful thing to worry about whether she’d been a good witch over the past year or not. Reflection on herself wasn’t always at the forefront of her mind, and she liked to think that her mum would be rather proud of her for it - especially as she couldn’t think of any times where she hadn’t been a good student, or good friend, or just all around good person.
With the task clear, Catrine waited a moment, looking at her peers around her to see what the general consensus would be. She hardly wanted to throw herself one way or the other first - that’d be social suicide. No, much as the badger felt a deep inclination to help, she wasn’t sure she could assist in the ways the mysterious wizard needed, and, anyway, she hardly wanted to be alone if she did jump to help.
Thankfully, it seemed other badgers weren’t hesitant to join in - a fact that shouldn’t have surprised the witch, as she considered her house. Smiling in a brief moment of relief, Catrine stood up as well, walking over towards the table with materials and tools. She balanced what she thought she needed in her arms, then carefully made her way back to her spot from before, laying her things out on the table. Taking her seat, Catrine began to piece what she thought would be a wooden soldier, turning and twisting the pieces until they seemed to fit.
Catrine feels weird around the Headmistress and the mysterious wizard - she wonders why that is, and why she feels like she needs to be on her best behavior more than ever. She sorta shrugs it off and waits to see if others will help with the task, then gets up herself and begins working on a toy solider.
With a flick of his wand, Alric summoned tools and supplies towards where he sat amongst his fellow Hufflepuffs, guiding the items with his wand over the heads of others who choose to stand and manually retrieve their supplies. Once his own landed in front of him, the badger cleared his throat, grabbing a comically small hammer and grinning a little as he struggled to hold it. He settled on awkwardly grasping it with his index finger and his thumb - the only way he could hold it, he settled - then began assembling two wooden pieces together, unsure yet what exactly he was trying to make. He assumed it would be like a puzzle, and that as he put things together, eventually the whole picture would reveal itself.
Alric is suspicious of the mysterious wizard, smiles goofily at the thought he may be a certain rosy cheeked, jolly old man, but dismisses it and gets to work!
a quiet day, a quiet night
- Conversation, meetings and large groups weren't things that Moth Skelton was ever likely to put on his "Things I Enjoy" list, and much more likely to end up in a crumpled and angry "Things I That I Would Begrudgingly Be Involved With If Made To, But Also Be Very Unhappy Whilst Doing So" list. Today's gathering in the Great Hall definitely fell into the category of the second list, and Moth's listening was just slightly distracted by his own grumpy thoughts. Yes, yes: the headmistress warbling about something-something-christmas tree, and something-something-toys; and some old man. A very old man, by the looks of things: the kind of person who seemed irredeemably magical, as though he'd been around for years beyond his appearance's suggestion - much like the aura given off by the Headmistress herself.
Christmastime and winter were hard times for Moth: of course, he only showed that shadowy anger that so-often covered his face, but deep down it made his heart a little colder, a little sadder. A time to spend with friends, a time to spend with family: none of that for Moth. Not that he cared, of course. Or... maybe just a little. The worst part was the clothes: he didn't have much along the lines of "warm": old, thin-lined fabrics with holes and threadbare sleeves or legs; missing fingers in gloves or missing toes in socks, and shoes that fell apart when he stepped... Winter quite quickly became a struggle to stay warm, and though his magical talent helped things become better, it was still a difficulty remaining on the healthier side of the temperature.
So, naturally, when presents were mentioned; Moth's ears began to prick up. Attention wandered back towards the wizard and the Headmistress, taking a steady note of the idea that they will be receiving something that they want, something that they need; just for helping make some toys. That was surprisingly simple, and wonderful for satisfying that selfish part of Moth that really wanted some new winter clothes - he didn't care much for helping this old stranger: but clothes-for-toys seemed a pretty fair trade-off.
When those who didn't want to involve themselves began to flutter out of the hall, Moth found a corner spot where he might not be annoyed and played with the pieces of yet-to-be-assembled toys. His wandering fingers finally settled on what looked to be un-stuffed, un-stitched pieces of a teddy bear. Moth wasn't half bad at sewing and stitching, so this seemed a fair start. He sighed, twiddling a needle and thread between his long and freckled fingers, and began to work.
- - - - - - - - - -
Moth doesn't care about the mysterious stranger until he hears theyre getting presents in return, and homeboy wants some new clothes so he hops to work (in the corner where he hopes nobody bugs him) and begins to sew up a teddy bear.
(permanent language/abuse mention warning: moth swears a lot when angry;
and he often references his abusive childhood in his inner monologue)
Quickly, the witch disassembled the piece as best as she could, cheeks rosied from the embarrassment of it all. Some of the pieces however seemed stuck in place, and with a frustrated huff, the badger simply grabbed her mess and tried to discreetly pass it over the table and into her lap. Once there, she placed her hands out, eyes looking around, a forced casual nature painted clear as day as she stood and felt the weight of the toy slip off and fall to a thud beneath the table.
Heaving a small sigh, Catrine walked over to the pile of materials, retrieving the bits of what looked to be a red haired stuffed rag doll. Wood, evidently, was her enemy, so she hoped sewing would come more naturally. Returned to her place, the girl got to work, threading her needle with a steady hand and good precision, and beginning to line the parts of the doll up.
Catrine makes something that looks like it belongs in the garbage. She’s embarrassed and trying to hide it from others, slides it under the table to get rid of it when she can’t undo her work and retrieves rag doll pieces to try her hand at sewing instead.
Had he used tools before? Well kind of, taking care of his beloved guitar involved the use of tools, but that was different. How hard could it be to use a hammer and some nails though? It was with this thought that the seventh year collected what looked to be pieces for a doll house, this was of course not his expertise as really his dollhouse knowledge was pretty vague. A handful of tiny nails and a small hammer joined the Miles at the workbench, really he wished there had been some instructions to read for the construction of the toys. Instead he was left to shoot in the dark and hope for the stars, and not to disappoint some child that was expecting a use able doll house. Life is full of disappointment kid,[i] he mused quietly while gently trying to nail the pieces together. [I]Very gently, or it seemed as if the hammer would crush the miniature construction site. He could hope, but really, Miles wasn't about to hold his breath.
Miles is very skeptical of this stranger, but he hopes to get some nice smelling fancy shampoo or something. He decides on a dollhouse, and does his best trying to gently nail it together.
follow me to the sea
Cosimia dressed in her favorite winter outfit, if such a thing existed and headed down to join her classmates on the task at hand. She grabbed a handful of supples and went to work, twisting, turning and conspiring to win such a gift that would give her the edge against her fellow classmates. She had heard about the tree and question, eyeing the presents that lay underneath. She was going to get one of those present. If anyone had asked, she would lie about what her wish would be. She wanted to be the prettiest girl in school and make everyone jealous. Would that be something that this mysterious wizard would grant her? She wasn't sure, but she was going to try,
Cosimia looked around her, recognizing some of her peers. She noticed a particular Ravenclaw boy and couldn't help but roll her eyes, seeing him create such a perfect toy. "Pft, I can do better." She said to herself, turning back to her own present. She wanted her toy to be the very best. After all, we are dealing with Cosimia Spiros, no?
Cosimia is not totally thrilled to be here, but she loves gifts and she wants to make some toys for children. She rolls her eyes at @Moth Skelton because he made such a perfect toy, and vows that her toy will be even better.
Avatars by Evan!<3Signature made by flameia of Shadowplay!
I'm barely breathing anymore
This christmas was different however, for it was the first that had come since their mothers disappearance. If you could even call it that. The truth was a whole lot harsher and more confronting. For, Elizabeth had not just disappeared… she’d abandoned them - up and left without so much as a goodbye or letter explaining her absence. And although Morgan had not lived with the woman for some time now, it still hurt more than words could ever express. He relied on her for comfort and support… although admittedly he’d not received much of either in the past few years. She mightn’t have been the mother of the year, but she was his mother nonetheless.
It was for this reason, among a few others, that the boy had opted to stay at Hogwarts over the winter break. He hadn’t been feeling overly festive in weeks leading up to the holidays, and figured his time would be better spent catching up on homework than baking store bought cookies with his older siblings. Not to mention how crowded Cara’s one bedroom apartment became when her brothers came to visit.
Making toys for the children of the world seemed like a healthy distraction from his moping… so, in a way, he was almost glad for the intrusion. With his head buried beneath a mop of uncombed hair, Morgan fiddled with scraggly pieces of orange felt and some thread he’d found lying about the great hall. He’d never really been much of a seamstress, so the doll he’d been attempting to sew together was taking a while to take shape. He’d repurposed some pink yarn into a head of crimped hair, and some buttons into eyes- but, it was the orange polka-dot dress that was giving him the most trouble.
Morgan was often silent, but this particular brand of silence spoke of his dedication to the task and arguably- his sour mood. Truth be told, he was rather happy in his own company at that moment- he didn’t feel all that much like engaging in the smalltalk that often accompanied the holiday season.
Morgan is moping and alone... attempting to sew a ragdoll
The question of the matter however was not if the written words of strangers could be trusted or not, but more so what Miles could try his hand at making next. At least it seemed like some skills transferred over from fiddling with his guitar, so the eagle was perfectly fine with staying at the wood and nails side of the scene. It seemed as if others were working on other things, or at least from what the blond observed as some were working on dolls or stuffed animals. With the careful and gentle use of his wand more parts were beckoned to the eagles spot, careful of course to avoid guiding pieces into the heads of those around him. “This isn't so bad,” he confessed to the boy close to him. Miles didn't know the boy, but really the only people that the eagle knew the names of were either shady or liked to use their fists instead of words. Hopefully this wasn't one of them, bourbon eyes quickly casting themselves downwards to the pieces in front of him.
If seemed to be a train set… of sorts, but of course he was just guessing. Miles had never had a toy train set himself, maybe there was even a bit of jealousy at the idea of some child having such a thing that he would have never dreamed of. The holidays, and birthdays even, at Aunt Maggie's was spent hoping for newish clothes in his size or a considerably warm blanket. Oh how he loved his blankets, a stack of old and worn patchwork blankets that were all his own. The eagle stole a glance to the old wizard that had crashed onto the grounds, half wondering how he had even managed to crash. Had the large wizard fallen asleep? Or perhaps had a few drinks at a pub before being greeted by the womping willow? Who knew, Miles for one was not about to ask. Instead the boy busied himself with piecing together the train set, carefully placing nails and trying to keep from breaking some of the more delicate pieces.
Dollhouse complete! Don't worry, Miles is surprised too. Parts for a train set are summoned, a few words offered to @Alric Bolstridge. He wonders about the large unknown wizard, but decides questions are out and gets to work.
Built your ceilings out of stained glass
The boy had set up his toy-making station at the head of the gryffindor table- and had somehow already managed to cover himself in an assortment of glue, wood chips and a healthy dose of paint. Before him, almost contrastingly, sat a neatly organised pile of wooden blocks… each just as plain and square as the next. He’d intended on building something fantastically outlandish from them, but had opted to go with the safer route in the end. With a steady hand, he begun painting brightly coloured letters onto the wooden surfaces, attempting to keep within the pencil lines he’d stencilled onto them earlier. He’d never been particularly good at arts or crafts- he’d always been more athletically inclined- but he was trying his darnedest to create something that was at least passible. After all, he wasn’t really in the business of making children cry on Christmas morning. That seemed more like something his Slytherin classmates would be involved in.
Chewing on the end of his paintbrush, the boy held the wooden block up to the light- inspecting it.
Christian is painting wooden blocks because he’s not handy enough to do much else
a heavy truth
Making her way down to the toy-making area, Jessie didn't assume their was a possibility that Morgan Mulloy would be there as well. When she saw the taller and skinnier Ravenclaw, her heart dropped a bit. She wasn't sure whether she should hate him, or sympathize with him. After all, it was his mother who had run off. Not hers. No, her own mother had run away already. Did Morgan know that? Did he know that her own mother abandoned her as well? She wasn't sure. Finding a spot open next to him at the table, Jessie decided that she might as well join in, and at least act like this wasn't awkward.
"Didn't know you were much of a handy-man," Jessie explained, sarcasm and calmness in her voice. She through off her jacket and got to work, finding with the pieces of what was supposed to be a hockey stick. She was a huge hockey fan, even if it was a muggle sport that people at Hogwarts were generally unfamiliar with. Back in Philly, she was always at a hockey game, or fighting with someone about her favorite team. It was one of her favorite things about being in the States.
Jessie showed up to help, and is kinda surprised to see @Morgan Mulloy and tries to say hello in an awkward Jessie-is-sarcastic, kind of way. She's trying to make a hockey stick, because why not?
the wrecking ball
This was not a competition, nor was their a single prize to hand out in the end. And yet, here Raelynn was, acting as if there were only one present that was going to be handed out. She acted like if she didn't make the best toy for the children, she would lose. And as stated earlier, she was not going to lose again. This time, she would come out on top. This time, she would make the best toy.
Running down to the toy-making workshop, Raelynn eyed her 'competition' and noticed that she was a couple minutes late. She quickly ran over to an empty table and grabbed some supplies, working quickly to make the best toy. She decided that she was going to make a toy guitar, something that she had when she was younger. She hoped that the mysterious wizard would enchant the toy, making it a magical electric toy, that would play just as good as the adult version.
Raelynn got to work, to win the prize.
Raelynn thinks this a competition, and therefore is taking this very seriously. She isn't going to be beaten this time! She is making a toy guitar!
have fun in hell (hey now!)
He certainly believed so.
The haughty Hufflepuff hadn’t been witness to the crash, but as word travelled around school that an old, homeless vagrant with some possibly dubious intentions required students to help him commit a crime against the child labour act… Felton was there. The very thought of these toys getting made, for some undoubtedly pox-filled, polio ravished children without his keen eye and his knowledge on everything almost made him want to retch in terror. As the ballerina thin badger burst into the toy maker’s workshop and judgementally scanned across the room, seeing students working in relative silence at their own separate stations, he knew he had come just in time.
Clearly someone needed to micro-manage this filth.
“Hmmmmmm…” he tutted as he wandered around the workshop, hands clasped around his bony backside whilst he gazed about with discern, “Hmmmmmmmm..” His heels clicked together as he stopped by a Ravenclaw girl, one whom he merely recognized by the good fortune of her last name, “A noble effort, Miss Spiros, but I do believe you’ll notice you missed a spot riiiiiiiiigggght..” his finger twirled in the air before coming to prod at it, “there. Ahh, but these finicky little blunders are quite avoidable, so long as we keep our eyes open to them, yes?” And he smiled — oh, that smile — in the kind of way that would make you want to throw acid in his face, as he tilted his head and sashayed onward.
“Oh.. my dancing doxies..” apparently he had arrived just in time, at least enough to witness a boy painting what appeared to be a set of blocks — a toy not even the impoverished should be subjected to — and a girl making what he could only deduce was a mangled wand. This situation was more dire than he had presumed, “Everyone!” He clapped his hands together, trying to command the attention of the room, “If I may have your undivided attention, please. First of all, I’d like to commend you all for showing face here today. There is truly nothing more virtuous than the charitable donation of your time for those in need… However!” And he rolled up the sleeves of his robes, “I do believe if we all put in more of a concentrated effort and really apply ourselves, each and everyone of you, we can do.. much better.” Felton picked up a few materials, of what would hopefully be a toy train, and held them above his head, “Should anyone need to look to me for direction and, of course, inspiration.. well, I certainly encourage you to do so!” With a nod of his head, the chihuahua finally shut his yappity yap, and let his apparently oh-so magic hands get to work.
Felton is here to
oh and he's trying to make a toy train i guess. i hope he gets a 1!
CHIHUAHUA - SEEKER
2/6 avatars by Evan <333
(the ones that are actually nice lmao)
Her familiar was nowhere in sight and it was perhaps for the best as she spread out her tools before her and gingerly plucked a reindeer in a red sweater. Half the stuffing had fallen out and there were tears in his body that needed to be stitched up. Sadly she wasn’t going to be able to work on him this way, so she pulled at the threads and unraveled him just a little bit more. Years of arts and crafts at the house of the aunts had taught the witch a thing or two about making toys or presents overall. A soft hum vibrated from her lips as she then pulled stuffing from the reindeer and set it into the basket with the rest of the fluff.
Eventually the bone witch became lost in her work and delicate pale fingers turned the toy inside out. Hotaru began to mend the holes, trying to stitch and crochet as seamlessly as possible. It was no surprise she was humming very softly, pulling threads and pushing needles into the material as she went along. A speech had the girl’s hands pausing and hair lifting, those large eyes settled on her housemate, Felton. A mild shake of the head later and Hotaru turned the figure right-side out to check that she’d mended all the holes before she started to put the stuffing back in.
Hotaru tries to mend stuffed reindeer toys. She pauses long enough to listen to Felton’s speech before returning to her work.
“If you lend your assistance, you will either be entitled to one of these presents.” That was the best thing about Christmas in Anna’s opinions. All the cute little presents she could receive and give out. Part of the excitement was getting presents, knowing that your friends knew you as well as you knew them. The thought that some people might go without them probably didn’t bother her as much as it should have, but she had a big enough heart that she was at least a little concerned and had decided to help right then and there. Impulse was usually how the Hufflepuff operated. She got right up out of her chair and grabbed a Voltron, Defender of the Universe figurine which was in little lion pieces. Her eyes danced along the other little helpers and she momentarily pictured them with little elf hats, working away at Santa’s workshop.
Grinning, the badger settled down beside a boy painting building blocks. After moment she got up and grabbed a pair of elf hats; putting one on her head and settling back down. Her blue eyes followed his movements as he held up the block to inspect it. “Looks nice and glossy. Elf hat?” She held the hat out to him with a smile, thinking she probably should have grabbed a building block set instead. If he took it she’d turn back to her work, if he didn’t she’d just set it down and pick up one of the broken lion legs. “Time to form Voltron.” she said to herself, picking up one of the lion pieces that seemed to be in more shambles than the rest.
Instead of forming it, she took the entire thing apart to make sure she had all the pieces, constructing each of the lions individually.
Annabella suspects that Santa Claus is in their midst. She grabs a robot figurine of Voltron and sits next to @Christian Rhodes, commenting on his painting skills and offering him a little Elf worker’s hat before taking her large robot figurine apart and attempting to recreate each of the five lions individually.
Sighing softly in relief, Catrine was sure the doll made up for the tragedy before. With that warm thought in mind, the witch stood up, noticing out of the corner of her eye as her housemate, Felton, began addressing the hall. Stifling a giggle at the pretentiousness of his words, Catrine dropped her doll off in the finished pile before looking over the materials for her next toy.
She settled on having another go at sewing, grabbing the parts of what she assumed was a teddy bear before making her way back. As Felton finished yapping, the girl paused to observe his demonstration, partially wondering more about how long he’d be quiet working than about learning from his apparent toy making skills. Quickly though, that thought was dismissed as she watched the badger work, her eyebrows raising higher and higher the more that she saw. She wasn’t quiet sure what the boy was doing wrong, exactly, but it was clear something was off as the more he put together, the less and less it looked like... whatever it was supposed to be. A train, she thought, thought it certainly didn’t look as much at first glance.
Snickering, the witch was quick to cover her mouth with her hand, a little surprised at how fast she was to laugh. She wasn’t particularly ashamed, however, not after the speech her housemate had just given about how everyone could do so much better and that they could look to him if they wanted to see a demonstration of the work they should aspire to replicate.
“Wow Felton. I guess if you were going for the aftermath of a train wreck, you sure showed us,” she teased with a playful roll of her eyes. She didn’t know much about the older boy, but he’d always come off as the sort that she didn’t need to know more beyond what she could see on the surface. In Felton’s case, he was just some snooty rich kid, proud of the “purity” of his bloodline and somehow always with a stick up his arse despite having all the money in the world to be happy with. But maybe it was just the things that he chose to spend his money on that made him so stuffy and unable to feel joy. Unicorn suede shoes? Clothes that not even her nan would be caught dead looking at, much less wearing? Not only were the things he seemed to buy boring, but they were a bit tasteless as well.
Giggling, Catrine sat beside the boy, second guessing her decision for only a second as she considered how great it would feel showing him up. “Maybe you need a little more practice? Or, maybe the pieces you got were just... inexpensive,” she suggested jokingly as she threaded her needle, as if the quality of the materials somehow changed whether they could be made into a toy or not.
With that, the girl began sewing pieces together, half watching her work and watching Felton out of her peripherals.
Catrine surprises herself and makes a beautiful looking doll that she’s rather proud of. She goes to drop it off in the finished pile as @Felton Quigley starts his speech, and comes back with new parts for a teddy bear as he finishes and demonstrates his skills. She teases him a bit and decides to work beside him, suggesting jokingly that the it might be the fault of the quality of materials as she begins sewing her teddy bear.
Looks still cute but lips are sore
Florentin was fiddling with the sleeves of his button down short, as always having abandoned the matching sweater with the Slytherin emblem, as grey was never a flattering colour. Could he just walk away from all of this and go back to bed? In winter, crawling back under his duvet was always so tempting, because everything was cold and dark and utterly unpleasant. But at least he could bring his cup of café au lait, choosing a place to work at and looking at those materials they were supposed to work with. There were doll parts and stuffing for plushies, wheels and all kind of colours. It was easy to choose when one had no remarkable skills, and so Florentin picked the parts of a doll together, placing them on the table in front of him and attaching the porcelain limbs carefully to the softer body - several sewing charms helping him with such a task, as of course he did not know how to sew.
He did not know how he was supposed to fix a toy in general, but what he did could be described as trying his best at least, picking a small wig with luscious red curls from a box and finding himself mesmerized by a bunch of tiny dresses. If anything, Florentin knew how to comb and dress a doll, and if it helped their task at hand, he was not going to let down this genuine opportunity to enjoy himself doing something his father had always frowned upon. Not quite competitive and yet ambitious, pale eyes got raised, first to see if there was anyone he knew and second to convince himself that other students were not doing better than he was. Yet were they? It seemed like at least some of the were profound with needle and thread, a skill that did sound convenient yet none Flo had.
Tentatively, he shook the doll's little arms, hoping it would all stay in place before putting a green dress with a red berry print on the toy, with calm and composed movements. The dress had small buttons on the back that needed to be closed, and all Florentin was hoping for that it was not going to fall apart once turned from the lying position into a more upright one, porcelain hands folded in the doll's lap.
Florentin thinks the old guy looks like Papa Noël and gets to work. He finds doll parts and is a very happy little Frenchie. But will his construct last or will he once more embarrass himself?
I will fly on scorched wings
There was no doubt or hesitation as the headmistress ended her talk, because it would not hurt to spend some time creating toys for those children who would otherwise have no presents laying beneath their trees, even though Ina did not have a creative bone in her body; unlike Tammy and Ninny. As the eagle scanned the table that lay full of toy parts – parts that were meant to be fashioned in a dollhouse, limbs and heads she was sure were meant for said dolls, as well as stuffing and soft fabrics – she wondered if her siblings would join the rest of the student body as well. She had not seen them yet, however, and so she carefully picked those parts that looked like they belonged to a stuffed animal – a tiger, if she could judge from the dark stripes that were lined across the fabric. Ina did not know how to sew, as being taught such a skill was not a priority when growing up on a dragon farm, yet that was what magic was for, wasn’t it?
Her place to sit was randomly chosen, as she had not seen any of her friends or siblings – hoping they would join her soon – before carefully setting all the pieces and tools she needed on the table in front of her. Coppery eyes were raised to the boy sitting next to her, head tilted slightly as she watched the pieces of his doll that had fallen apart. ‘’Do you need any help?’’ Ina offered calmly as her own inked hands got to work, her wand replacing the needle and thread she did not know how to use while some sewing charms would hopefully do the trick in assembling this stuffed tiger.
Inanna is here to help, and decides to work on a stuffed tiger (because gotta stay in that Princess Jasmine role). She sits next to @Florentin Deschamps and asks him if he needs any help with his doll.
<span style="border:red solid 3px;" class="dice-roll"> Dice Roll: 1d3: 1 = 1</span>
(Sara had to edit something and broke the code sob)
Glancing at the old wizard, Alric got an idea. With the last piece in place and charmed stuck, he held the plane up in front of him, eyes crossing a little as he stared intently at it. With his free hand, Alric incanted, “Colovaria,” painting the wings of the plane and it’s body. He continued to paint with his spell, admiring the red and white finished plane once it was done. Just like his old one. Hopefully, whatever child would receive it would appreciate the colors as much as he did.
Standing, the badger took his finished toy to the completed pile, retrieving a tray with metal pieces this time as he was already up. He took the next closet open spot at a table, noting the boy next to him and the doll house in front of him. Smiling at his words, Alric nodded, “Yes, it’s a little fun, too. And it beats normal schoolwork, I think.” Not that the badger normally minded his assignments, but the coursework he most needed to do was in Transfigurations, and he wasn’t quite in a rush to get a headache trying to work it out. Really, he needed to find himself a tutor for it, though as always he pushed the thought away for later, telling himself that eventually, he’d get more help.
For the time being, Alric began working on the metal puzzle in front of him. They were a little more delicate than the wood he’d worked with before, so the bulky badger did his best to be careful as he began piecing the parts together.
“That was a lovey dollhouse, by the way. Your train is coming along nice as well! Do you make toys on your free time?” He asked, glancing at the boy with a smile.
Alric makes a wooden plane he is super proud of. It reminds him of one he used to have a toddler, and gets inspired to paint it the same colors his old one used to be before he sends it off to the completed pile. He gets up and gathers more materials, taking the next open spot he sees and sitting beside @Miles Beckett. He agrees with his comment, begins working on his new toy, and compliments Miles’ dollhouse and train set before asking if he makes toys on his free time.
Dark eyes flickered around and saw a ton of other students coming in to help. Some toys looked as if the students had been building toys their whole lives. Some toys-- well, Iris wasn't sure of what they were. One thing remained constant. Everyone was trying their best. With a quiet sigh, Iris gathered some pieces and tools in her arms-- not even thinking to use her magic in moving things over to an available seat-- and waddled over to an empty spot.
Unsure of what to do, Iris began to put the pieces next to one another. She used the tools where it seemed appropriate and tried to work out what was supposed to be in front of her. To be honest, Iris wasn't even certain that all of the pieces she had grabbed belonged to the same toy! Still, she had to try and try she did. Who knew? Maybe Iris was a natural at this... Maybe not.
Iris isn't really sure about this whole toy making thing, but she tries to get into the spirit of the season by pitching in!
;o; Tears, ya'll... tears... Thank you. <3
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