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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."
Tine
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4056 Posts
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Ravenclaw Advanced
Age
16
Height
5'7
Status
Pureblood
Year
6th
House
Ravenclaw
clash
neutral
Awards: 68



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
"A violent sea under the surface of a frozen lake"
Robin
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865 Posts
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Age
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Ravenclaw
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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 it's 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 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."
Tine
Offline
She/Her
4056 Posts
Rep: 46 pts
[ + | - ]
Group
Ravenclaw Advanced
Age
16
Height
5'7
Status
Pureblood
Year
6th
House
Ravenclaw
clash
neutral
Awards: 68



Nothing made sure that Gretchen would indeed come town, 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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