Wizarding Realm -> this city is bleak like yesterday
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 this city is bleak like yesterday, stells/cipciphooray
Ethera Gordon
 Posted: Jul 8 2017, 10:55 PM
Quote

"ice ice baby"

AGE:
16
YEAR:
6
HOUSE:
Ravenclaw
CLASH:
Undecided
HEIGHT:
5 FOOT 4
STATUS:
Pureblood
POSTS:
19
Rep: 0 pts [ + | - ]

Ethera Gordon
© Becca // She
Awards: 3



It was a sleepy Sunday morning.

Of course, Ethera had never known Sunday mornings to come in any other flavor. It seemed that the world had a way of slowing down to a perfect, smooth pace on Sunday mornings. She, too, had woken up later than usual with a languid stretch that would have made even a feline jealous, to watch her back arch to the high heavens and know that her muscles were uncoiling in such a delicious way. She had taken her good sweet time getting ready for the day.

The sun poured in through her dorm window and made her skin sparkle as she dug through piles of sweaters and sweatpants to find something suitable for the coming summer. Summers at Hogwarts were nothing like the scorching heat of some of the destinations where she and her family had vacationed before. Places where tropical was more than just a drink flavor and humidity felt a lot like living in a city-sized sauna. Still, the goddess of efficiency put comfort before style nearly always and dressed light. She pulled her long blonde hair into a messy bun at the nape of her neck, slipped on a hat and into some sandals, and hoisted her stack of books and notebooks into her arms. It was a beautiful day, and she had plans to spend the whole of it outside reading.

It occurred to her, briefly, as she clunked down the stairs with a ten-pound load of literature, that skipping breakfast was not the wisest of decisions. In fact, she almost turned down the corridor to head to the Great Hall instead of to the courtyard. In a rare moment of nonchalance, however, she decided to forego breakfast. After all, she was right in the middle of a riveting book all about how the best female potion maker in America perfected her craft while in prison because she invented a violent, untraceable poison for use against her sister's abusive husband. Etty was just about to learn how she got caught.

She stepped outside and absently began to make her way toward her favorite spot. There was a little-known alcove all the way across the courtyard where some damage had befallen the castle and created a little nook in the wall. She liked it because it was private but still allowed her to see out into the world and observe her idiot classmates. The walk, short as it may have been, got her blood pumping and the thin fabric of her shirt began to stick to the skin beneath her arms. Her biceps were beginning to tremble with the weight of her books.

How annoying.

She quickened her pace so that she might get to her spot and use a charm to clear herself of all disgusting imperfections, but something caught her attention and caused her to stop short. Well, someone caught her attention. She stopped dead in her tracks and quick blue eyes snapped onto their target. It was a boy. A Ravenclaw named Dalca who stood out in her brain because he had been one of her latest entertainers. He was a little bit weird and a bit too loud for her tastes, but he was cute and had been an amazing kisser. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other as if physically weighing out her options.

On one hand, she really wanted to finish her book and move on to the next. Reading all day long on the weekends had been a ritual for her for as long as she could remember. On the other hand, her stomach felt just a little bit pleasantly queasy at the memory of the boy's touch and sweet nothings. She knew, somewhere in the middle of her brain--not quite pushed to the back yet but certainly not in the forefront--that reconnecting with flings was a waste of time. But the sleepy Sunday air had the salty sting of curiosity in her lungs and she found herself redirected towards Ciprian before she even knew what she had decided on.

She stopped squarely in front of him, shifted her stack of books to her hip like a toddler, and gave him as open and friendly an expression as she could manage. Mostly, she looked vacant yet somehow still slightly intimidating.

"Hello. Would you mind at all if I joined you?" Ethera hadn't even taken the time to check and see what he was doing. She was a genius with books, but social experiences were altogether different. "I mean, um, do you want to hang out today? Maybe?"

@Ciprian Dalca
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Ciprian Dalca
 Posted: Jul 19 2017, 07:35 PM
Quote

""Fus Ro Dah""

AGE:
16
YEAR:
6th
HOUSE:
Ravenclaw
CLASH:
🍭
HEIGHT:
5'9
STATUS:
Halfblood
POSTS:
91
Rep: 3 pts [ + | - ]

Ciprian Dalca
© It's-a Stells! // She/Her
Awards: 4



Ciprian Dalca had always hated mornings, all it took was asking his dear Gran about it and the elderly lady would have gladly shared all the tales of how much effort that was put into getting that silly boy out of bed back when he had been nothing more than an overly active kid with wild dark hair and beautiful blue eyes. Well, honestly, he was still an overly active kid with wild dark hair and blue eyes, but at least some things had changed. At least he had grown taller, and hit puberty, and developed new interest, and learned things he hadn’t known before, and...okay, maybe the list was rather short. None of it mattered much on that particular early summer Sunday, for he still hated mornings as much as he did back when his Gran had to drag him out of bed as a child, he had growled in annoyance when warm sunlight had filtered into his dorm. How dare you, sun, you should have been ashamed of awakening the poor boy.

Had it been his choice, he would have stayed in bed until noon, but how the hell was he supposed to stay in bed when everyone around him was so fucking loud? Seriously, for supposed bookworms, Ravenclaw boys really needed to learn to shut up sometimes - Ciprian himself especially, as he was a hypocrite and likely one of the loudest of them all. Drowsy and full of regrets, he had crawled out of bed, accidentally applying excessive amounts of cherry shampoo to his hair the moment he stepped into the shower and putting on freshly washed clothes. For a second, he stopped his sluggish and overly rehearsed morning routine in order to enjoy those scents, because hey, he may have been tired, but at least he smelled fucking great. The problem was that Ciprian was always tired during the earlier hours of the day, that -much alike a kitten- all his energy reserves seemed to be used up during the night, staying up reading comic books or doing whatever came to mind thanks to the influence of insomnia and sheer willpower itself.

If only he had been at home, he could have stayed in his room and played videogames until he felt like going out, yet such things were not possible at a magical school, even when he had no desire of eating breakfast at all. He missed home, more than what he would have ever admitted, he missed the grandmother who knew exactly what to cook in order to please his picky eating habits and he missed spending a lot of time with his sister. Perhaps that was what drove him to grab the old and tattered book from the pile on his nightstand, consumed by feelings of nostalgia as he head straight for the courtyard he rarely ever visited. And he sat there, in the shade, because damn that sunlight, reading ‘The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe’ while wearing his favourite Deadpool T-shirt and eating the last pack of M&Ms his Gran had sent with last week’s letter. Who need breakfast when he had M&Ms, right?

Soon, in the midst of reading, his own sleepiness was forgotten, immersed in what was written in the pages before a familiar voice dragged him straight back into reality and almost made him metaphorically hit his face in the dirt in the process. Glacial gaze met that of Ethera Gordon, his dark brows raising as he stared at the large amounts of skin she was showing and the books she held. Inevitably, Ciprian laughed, because she looked like the stereotypical dream of every nerd as depicted in every sitcom ever shown on TV. In many ways, she also ways, if only judging by the way she kissed. “Hmm and here I thought you found me annoying. Shouldn’t you be having breakfast? Nevermind, I’ll shut up before you change your mind.” Words came tumbling out of his mouth as quick as they offering a grin to his housemate before patting the spot on the bench by his side. “Come on, sit. Were you planning on reading all that? Wow, now I feel kind of dumb with my single book. Guess I should step up my game, huh?” More words, because Ciprian never seemed to shut up, but there was a joyful tone to them, almost as if glad he had been joined by the girl. And he was, truly, despite her interrupting his wonderful read of a children’s book.

"M&M?" He asked then, offering the colourful candies to her.

@Ethera Gordon
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Ethera Gordon
 Posted: Oct 11 2017, 02:52 PM
Quote

"ice ice baby"

AGE:
16
YEAR:
6
HOUSE:
Ravenclaw
CLASH:
Undecided
HEIGHT:
5 FOOT 4
STATUS:
Pureblood
POSTS:
19
Rep: 0 pts [ + | - ]

Ethera Gordon
© Becca // She
Awards: 3



"I do," she answered, the flat tone of her voice pulling the words out before she could stop them. She watched him with dead eyes. The boy in front of her was, if she were being honest, of less interest to her than the one in her memory. Slowly, she lowered her gaze and added, "but I find most people annoying." She was only being honest. Etty knew better than to mince words. It was a waste of her precious time to be anything but brutally honest.

She hoisted her long body up from her place on the ground and realized with a start how comfortable she had gotten. Ethera had a habit of sinking into her surroundings and this disturbance--this new presence and her strange decision to make contact with another human--had disturbed that peace. She stretched her arms up and back and gave a long sigh before bending down to grab her stack and carry it over to where the boy sat. The witch paused for a moment before moving to sit down, her eyes watching him with the careful weariness of a cat before finally deciding that she could either trust him or overtake him if anything were to happen and sat down. The girl kept her back rigid and placed her hands firmly in her lap. Her routine had been disrupted and so there would be no more chameleon-ing for her.

The blonde tilted her head and looked to the cover of the boy's book. It was one she had never heard of. Then, of course, she preferred nonfiction. What would a witch need with a lion and a wardrobe? Nothing. A good witch only truly needs herself and her wand. Even then, many had mastered the art of wandless magic.

"I only read so much because I enjoy it. I'm sure you have something you enjoy just as much in excess. Comparisons are...a waste of time." What started out as a statement that might, in some capacity, somewhere in the world be seen as uplifting or positive encouragement ended on a typically Etty note of dry observation. "But what is that?" she asked, alight with curiosity as she met his eyes again and pointed at his book. "What does the witch do with the lion and the wardrobe? Is she even very good at magic?"

Without noticing, Etty had slipped comfortably into the setting around her. Maybe it was their past physical intimacy, but she felt comfortable with the boy. Most likely, it was their shared lack of social know-how.

Suddenly, a slight smile appeared fleetingly on the ice witch's face. "Oh! This is some sort of muggle book, isn't it?" She giggled slightly as she spoke. "I've read muggle books about witched. They're entirely ridiculous! You have to tell me what happens in this one," she insisted, leaning forward eagerly and resting her chin in one of her hands. It was impossible for Etty to hide her giddiness about this one subject in particular. In any case, there was no one around except for Ciprian and who would he tell?

The Ravenclaw wrinkled her nose when he offered her chocolate. "No, thank you. I don't eat sugar," she said, waving the offer away with her hand. She almost didn't look at the bag, but when she did, her eyes grew wide. "Are you meant to eat that entire bag on your own?" she asked. Not that long ago, Etty would have eaten the entire bag herself in a few minutes. Today, she forced her brain to find repulsion at the idea. As much as she wanted to taste the delicious treats, she could only remember what she had once looked like and felt like. If she had one, she would never be able to stop herself from returning to her old habits. Almost as if to betray her, her stomach gave a loud rumble.

With a sigh, she admitted, "I would normally be at breakfast now, like you said. But Dora T. Ilium's story called to me."

@Ciprian Dalca
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