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Topics - Lysander Stone

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1
1959 / Bro, I'm straight up not having a good time
« on: 04/26/2020 at 06:38 »
Hi all

I will be absent for a few days due to family emergencies.

So sorry to all my threading partners, I'll do my best to get responses where I can.

2
1959 / The Stands
« on: 04/24/2020 at 11:53 »
Compared to the instability of the bridge upon which participants dueled, the stands offered little danger. Still, the risk of jutting nails and splinters from damaged wood rated highly. Spectators would either be careful or sorry.

They faced no risk from the heat, though. The long canvas shade sail which stretched above would keep spectators cool for the whole of the event. Those that were left unsatisfied could help themselves to cool lemonade and ice lollies to beat away the heat.

From this comfortable, cool place, spectators could see (through the provided binoculars) a rickety bridge swaying in the wind - and the young witches and wizards who did battle upon it.



This is a just-for-fun spectator thread for the summer duels! Open to anyone who wants to say their character spectated! Be sure to say which duel you're watching!

3
1959 / Duel Three: Amberghast v Darcy v Grey v Stone
« on: 04/18/2020 at 08:34 »
August 1st
13:00 PM
40C / 104F
On a rickety bridge over the Canyon


Avaric did not need to worry about the bridge collapsing, for he wasn't on it. The broom beneath him wouldn't fall unless he willed it. The kids in the duel, Lysander included, did not have the same privilege. One wrong foot would be all it took...

Planks of wood groaned in protest with each step further onto the bridge. It stretched across the canyon from east to west and measured a bit over fifteen feet across. Plenty of room to duel. Plenty of frayed and dangling ropes to grab on to as well, if the worst happened and a duelist took a tumble.

Duelists faced no real danger. A slowfall charm would prevent death by splattering after about twenty feet. Lysander had accidentally failed to pass this message along. The charm was only a failsafe anyway - either he or Avaric were more than prepared to lift any falling kid back to the block. They'd be fine - and a bit of perceived danger might even spur a more exciting duel.

Of course, the kids that had seen the last two duels would know. It would have been impossible to keep it completely secret.

"Come on, Avaric," he bid the large, lumpyheaded pureblood. The day had been long and dry and hot enough to fry an egg. The sooner they began the sooner they could all be sitting in the shade. "We know the rules, right guys? One disarm, stop if someone's really hurt, blah blah blah. We've heard it a million times. Stop stuffing us about."

Finally, finally, the git-referee gave an indication that they could begin.




(Only one successful disarming spell or action is allowed per duellist.)

(Only one successful action which destroys a potion is allowed per duellist.)

(No duellists will advance from this stage.)

(Your referee is Avaric Archeron.)





Round 1 of 7:

Calliope Amberghast - 70%

vs.

Clara Darcy - 90%

vs.

Christoph Grey - 110%

vs.

Lysander Stone - 60%

4
1959 / Duel Two: Belrose v Harlow v Palmer v Pierce
« on: 04/18/2020 at 08:31 »
August 1st
12:00 PM
41C / 106F
On a rickety bridge over the Canyon


Lysander did not need to worry about the bridge collapsing, for he wasn't on it. The broom beneath him wouldn't fall unless he willed it. The kids in the duel did not have the same privilege. One wrong foot would be all it took...

Planks of wood groaned in protest with each step further onto the bridge. It stretched across the canyon from east to west and measured a bit over fifteen feet across. Plenty of room to duel. Plenty of frayed and dangling ropes to grab on to as well, if the worst happened and a duelist took a tumble.

Duelists faced no real danger. A slowfall charm would prevent death by splattering after about twenty feet. Lysander had accidentally failed to pass this message along. The charm was only a failsafe anyway - either he or Avaric were more than prepared to lift any falling kid back to the block. They'd be fine - and a bit of perceived danger might even spur a more exciting duel.

Of course, the kids that had seen the last duel would know. It would have been impossible to keep it completely secret.

"Rules are: Don't fall, don't kill anyone. You're only allowed to wreck one potion and disarm one time. It's a wizard duel, so wands not fists."

Lysander's gaze lingered ever so slightly on Elliot, the kid he didn't know. Esther, Jane and Mimi could all be trusted to do things right. He didn't know what was coming for him.

"If you have questions, you shoulda asked earlier. Get ready - Go!"




(Only one successful disarming spell or action is allowed per duellist.)

(Only one successful action which destroys a potion is allowed per duellist.)

(No duellists will advance from this stage.)

(Your referee is Clinton Litchfield.)





Round 1 of 7:

Jane Belrose - 70%

vs.

Esther Harlow - 80%

vs.

Mimi Palmer - 80%

vs.

Elliott Pierce - 100%

5
August 1st
11:00 AM
38C / 100F
On a rickety bridge over the Canyon


Lysander did not need to worry about the bridge collapsing, for he wasn't on it. The broom beneath him wouldn't fall unless he willed it. The kids in the duel did not have the same privilege. One wrong foot would be all it took...

Planks of wood groaned in protest with each step further onto the bridge. It stretched across the canyon from east to west and measured a bit over fifteen feet across. Plenty of room to duel. Plenty of frayed and dangling ropes to grab on to as well, if the worst happened and a duelist took a tumble.

Duelists faced no real danger. A slowfall charm would prevent death by splattering after about twenty feet. Lysander had accidentally failed to pass this message along. The charm was only a failsafe anyway - either he or Avaric were more than prepared to lift any falling kid back to the block. They'd be fine - and a bit of perceived danger might even spur a more exciting duel.

"Rules are: Don't fall, don't kill anyone. You're only allowed to wreck one potion and disarm one time. And remember, this is a wizard duel and not a muggle fight."

The referee's gaze lingered ever so slightly on Billie. Sometimes muggleborns needed the reminder. His heart went out to the kid. The real world differed greatly from the muggle one.

"If you have questions, you shoulda asked earlier. Get ready - Go!"




(Only one successful disarming spell or action is allowed per duellist.)

(Only one successful action which destroys a potion is allowed per duellist.)

(No duellists will advance from this stage.)

(Your referee is Lysander Stone.)





Round 1 of 7:

Elias Glass - 70%

vs.

Vivian Jangleton - 110%

vs.

Eugenia Lowsley - 60%

vs.

Billie Monday - 85%

vs.

Cressida Scrivner - 75%

vs.

Kyra Tellavin - 70%

6
1959 / Closer To The Edge || Cress
« on: 04/11/2020 at 01:47 »
The long brick pathway stretched far to the East and to the West. No campers, save Cressida and himself, could be permitted in the area while they practiced. Magic could be dangerous - especially when performed by untrained kids. It should have been a teacher that showed this kid how to fling spells about.

But there were no teachers at camp, except for Clint who didn't count.

"You swing your arm under, like this," he exaggerated the movement to give the girl an indication, "And then do a little twisty thing just when your arm starts coming up again." Then he did the twisty thing.

It was where everyone - almost everyone - began. Lye considered himself pretty good with the spell. Other kids didn't focus on it properly or didn't use it properly. They'd rather bring things closer. Closer didn't always help in duels.

"Now all we're doing for now is bumping them over. It won't take much 'cause they only weigh a bit." He did the arm swingy thing. He did the twisty thing. He focused on one of the little empty cans.

"Depulso!" A bolt of glossy air shimmered out from his wand-tip and slew a can. It tumbled to the earth at the foot of the wall far below. "Go on, then. You might need to get a bit closer for starters."

7
1959 / Truth || Chrye
« on: 04/09/2020 at 12:53 »
After the Lower Year Party
Night



"I lied," he admitted. "Not to be mean or anything. That kid really did a number, but. There's enough rumors going around about us as it is."

His hands worked diligently at the paper reeds. Chris needed the fluffy parts at the top. Lye didn't even bother to ask what potion they were making. Even if Chris were doing something wrong, it wouldn't be anything Lye would stop him from doing.

"Artie was the truth - I just about had a go at that girl about calling her a monster - I'd marry her in a second. Can you imagine being a Marquis proper?" He was getting off topic.

They'd cleared several meters of reeds now. Discarded stalked measured all down the bank, and the wooden box of fluffy parks had nearly been filled.

"What I'm trying to say is, if I had to pick, I'd kill Clara over you."

8
1959 / Friends in high places || OPEN
« on: 04/07/2020 at 09:55 »
Up there, on the roof - Was that -?

"What the hell? Get down from here."

The sun glittered prettily. Lysander had never loved summer. Too sticky and sweaty and you couldn't go out in the middle of the day. The season robbed them of the midday for a few months a year. Total bogus. He lifted the brim of his stetson hat to get a better look.

"How did you even..."

He stepped forward, feet catching on something unseen as he focused on the figure on the rooftop. If Lye were not so practiced at finding his feet mid-panic, he might have eaten dirt. Instead he only stumbled foolishly and let a bunch of the dirt fly around.

Squinting didn't help. With the sun behind them, he could only see a silhouette. Whoever they were, they were in big trouble the moment they got down. He lowered the brim of his hat once more and drew a long wand of yew. Soundlessly, he waved the implement and conjured a heavy wooden ladder which leaned against the edge of the counselor building.

"Come on then, I don't have all day."

9
1959 / Music in the deep | Miander
« on: 04/03/2020 at 21:48 »
There weren't really monsters in the caves. Lye had seen and heard nothing down there that indicated more than wind through narrow tunnels. He wouldn't be doing his job if he didn't check, though. He wouldn't be doing his job if he'd allowed Clint or one of the other counselors to waste their time down here. Even if there was a monster, which there wasn't, he'd sort it out on his own.

Lye had owned the yew wand for only a few weeks now. Flecks of quartz along the walls glimmered against the light it gave off, and so he made his way through a shimmering tunnel with darkness both behind him and ahead. Ahead, farther in the darkness than Lysander had first guessed, lay the source of terror for Loki's youngest campers. The noises varied from trembling discordant rumbles to long, haunting notes.

-- and they were getting louder.

He figured whatever hole in the rock birthed the sounds must be pretty close now. It need only be plugged up. Now that he was all the way down here and the whistling was clearer, Lye couldn't be sure he wanted it closed. It sounded almost like music. It sounded like --

"For real?"

He knew that voice. As he made his way through the low entrance to an underground chamber, all suspicions were confirmed.

"What are you even doing down here?" he laughed, "Everyone thinks there's some great big cave monster down here."

10
1959 / To Smithereens || Flintstone
« on: 04/03/2020 at 01:27 »
Some of the pottery must have been older than Hogwarts. Truly ancient works of art. In the soft light of jali-covered windows, the painted works conveyed a true sense of inner peace. If artwork had feelings, the air would have thrummed with tranquility.

Flecks of terracotta scattered about the room. The sound of crashing earthenware was muted by the stone walls. No one would see the extent of the damage -- not for hours.

"This bat feels weird," he laughed, "It's all long and thin."

Muggle bats didn't need to be as sturdy - probably because their balls weren't made of heavy metal. They reached further though, and you could get some real momentum if you wanted it. In the cavernous palace rooms, a bit of momentum could send a vase flying pretty far.

With a grin, he turned to his partner in crime. With a weapon in her hand, she was a real sight to behold. Yet, meeting her eyes, a ripple of guilt travelled down his spine.

"Ah, shit."

He had to tell her eventually. Every time they hung out, the longer it took, the worse his betrayal.

"There's something I shoulda told you. Like, ages ago."

11
Each step over the solidified water built his confidence. The work of freezing the great falls could never have been achieved without solid magic from each of them. It seemed nothing short of a sledgehammer would crack the ice now.

Lye strode over the frozen falls and laid down the final tray of steaming pastries on a long wooden table. Just in time, too - attendees had been arriving for ten minutes.

"All right, there's enough of us now. We're starting. My name's Lye, that's Clara and that's Chris. We're gonna start off by seeing how brave everyone is. Get in a circle - we're playing truth or dare!"

Lye shot a glance around at the gathered young people, offering an encouraging look where it seemed needed.

"Kyra, you're first. Truth or dare?"



[Please bold all actions so readers can keep track of the game]

  • The “Darer” chooses a victim and Truth or Dares them. (Post both a Truth AND a Dare at the bottom of your post to save posting time.)
  • The “Victim” either answers the question or performs the dare. They may also choose to ‘pass’, which will result in a Party Foul Punishment.*
  • The “Victim” becomes the “Darer” and choses a new Victim.
  • ”Victims” have 24 hours to post their actions or they automatically get the Party Foul Punishment and one of the organisers will choose a new “Victim”

*The Party Foul Punishment consists of getting spritzed with a potion: ‘Green Engorgement Juice’. This is colorless and odorless and makes whatever body part it is sprayed on swell up (painlessly) and turn neon green for several hours. The person who was fouled (who’s truth/dare wasn’t followed through with) gets to spritz the coward wherever they choose.

To be added to the list of people to be dared message Lysander Stone or post in this thread. Names with a strikethrough have taken part already. Incoming first, second, third and fourth years are invited to take part.


Truth: Name one boy you think is cute and one you don't - but don't tell us which is which.
Dare: Kiss the bottom of your shoe

Attendees
  • Lysander Stone
  • Christoph Grey
  • Clara Darcy
  • Kyra Tellavin
  • Jemima Penrose
  • Alexander Darcy
  • Sai Gupta
  • Sydney Lamont
  • Roo Hopland
  • Dylan Duckheart
  • Elias Glass
  • Elizabeth Cavendish
  • Sylvain Shaw
  • Cressida Scrivner
  • Zephyr Miles Stormont

Huge special thanks to sammie for letting me steal her game template <3

12
1959 / ♫ Memes Around The World ♫
« on: 03/30/2020 at 06:46 »
Happy isolation, fellow isolat-oes! It’s that time again

 ~~VOICE MEME~~

For those new or forgetful, the voice meme is a Hoggies tradition whereby we record responses to a question set and upload them for the entertainment/enjoyment of others on site! It’s a great way to get to know your site-mates or to laugh and be amazed.

Record your answers via your preferred device and then upload to Soundcloud and post a link below. Remember that the site rating is always in effect. Some people like to script themselves and others like to ramble. That’s your choice. We’ll enjoy it either way. If you have any further questions, reach out to me on site or on discord (Lysander Stone#1733) and I’ll clear up any confusion.

Without further ado, I present the Camp Loki 1959 Voice Meme questions;

ABOUT YOU!
  • Introduce yourself and give us a couple of facts about yourself
  • Tell us about your country / area and some cool landmarks in your area
  • Tell us your dream travel destination
  • What is your favourite of the Wonders of the World?
  • Show us the quirks of your accent - pronounce the following words clearly - Carribean, Expatriate, Route, Zebra, Asia, Brazil, Schedule, Picture, Accent
  • Read this tongue twister: We surely shall see the sun shine soon

ABOUT YOUR CHARACTERS!
  • Briefly introduce your characters and tell us their plots
  • What is a country they would flourish in (that isn’t where they are)?
  • Tell us how your character has / will make their mark on the world.
  • What are you most excited about for summer?
  • What are you most excited about for next term?
  • Freestyle - tell us a story, vent about your life, read a thread, or treat us to a sample of your hot new (site friendly!) diss track!

Voice memes can be as long or as short as you want them to be! The important thing is you have fun. Check in often and listen to everyone else’s voice memes or check out voice memes from prior summers here :

PS feel free to add additional questions / prompts for people to answer!

13
1959 / ps. name your favourite book
« on: 03/21/2020 at 02:14 »
HI HELLO i do not code

My irl name is Zeb but everyone around here calls me lys!

Some things:
  • I come from a large family - my parents raised many kids - through birth, foster, or other (weirder) arrangements
  • I have two cats - Gaston (for my favourite disney character) and Charlie (20 years strong and cuddly as heck)
  • I live in Australia which thanks to timezones means I live in the FUTURE! It's a beautiful country with untold riches in every gully and span. If you've never been, add it to the top of your list!
  • I have been playing the same Dungeons and Dragons game for nearly three years. We've since outstripped conventional play and things are getting weird. I play the godling once known as Arcturus Halfgate. He's a Bloodhunter 12 (no subclass, since I was recently cured of lycanthropy), fighter 8 (champion), paladin 4 (Oath of Ancients). We've just unfrozen a timelocked city called Magithel in the hopes of replicating that same spell to timelock 'the parasite', which is a kind of eldritch source of all evil in the multiverse.
  • My job was to run a pub in Brisbane, Australia. The virus has shut down Australian bars for a decent time. I'm good with money and taking precautions, so not stressed about things getting better soon.
  • I used to be a lifter, let it fall to the wayside, and have only recently stepped back up. Looking to get shredded for the end of the world.

The last five things I
Watched:
Avatar TLA, Spirited Away, Castlevania, One Punch Man, Travellers
Listened to: Book of Mormon, Panic! at the Disco, Scale the Summit, The Weeknd, Sam Smith
Read: Christie's Peril at End House, Tolkien's Fellowship of the Ring, Edding's Pawn of Prophecy, Orwell's 1984, Le Guin's The Wizard of Earthsea
Played: God of War, RDR2, Bloodborne, Goat Simulator, Stellaris

OKAY AND MY CHARACTERS

Elias is barely more than a kid (24!) and currently serving at least 10 years in Azkaban for the murder of his Grandfather. This was short-sighted of me because now I can't thread him. He does wandcraft (including special secret family secrets!) and has a daughter HEKATE who you can all love to hate in about eight terms time. Slytherin to the core, even if he never graduated. Broody. Maybe a little unhinged.

Lysander is my best boy (15 years old!). He's a whole barrel of feelings made more complicated by his Magical Empathy. This term just gone, Sandy was one of the instigators of a basilisk hoax at the castle which resulted in the accidental death of his close friend. It's a time of flux for my best boy, and you'll soon see a very different side to him.

Bedwyr is one of the three remaining druids of a once powerful druid circle. Last term he came to act as Divination professor at Hogwarts. He's an odd duck, set in his ways and gross beyond measure. Catch him next term for more adventures in smells, hair and vague nature-y stuff.

14
1958 / The new black | Chris
« on: 12/29/2019 at 02:20 »
Long after curfew
After a night of hijinks


The silvery glow of the night dispensed of the need for wandlight. In the moonlight, all the redness of this part of the camp faded into purply-black. They could see enough - one rock looked just the same as the other - and neither had a decent excuse to be this far out.

Sandy breathed the smoke through the poorly-rolled thing in his hand and leaned against the cliff-face. Nearly the little beacon of burning tobacco had nearly reached the end of its life. The cherry fire edged at his fingers, and Sandy habitually flicked it over the edge into the void beyond. After several slow seconds, the light of the cigarette faded from sight. Sandy needed that time to construct a response.

"I really don't get what's the difference. I use magic in duels and its not," he gave a  sad little shake of his hands to emphasise the silliness, "'Dark Magic'. And people don't call memory charms dark. You ever been obliviated? Or you ever been slug-charmed?"

The biggest difference between dark magic and not-dark magic sprang from perception. Dark magic felt evil. Or people thought it did because they knew the spell was evil. And they knew because they were told. It seemed a stupid limitation on some spells, chosen at random.

As he spoke, Sandy began to fumble in the sublight for another cigarette.

15
1958 / Boom or bust || Ash
« on: 12/24/2019 at 04:13 »
Shortly after this
The duelling block

Sleeping on his wand had to take the cake for dumbest thing he'd ever done. Sandy hadn't even awoken until the splinters had dug into his side. Wands were expensive, and kind-of-alive-kind-of-not-alive. Every said to treat them with respect. Snapping something in half was pretty disrespectful. Now he paid the price.

"Germineo!"

Nothing. Zip. The rock he aimed at remained the only incarnation of itself.

"Expulso!"

The only sign that his wand intended anything at all was the stale smell of week-old bacon grease which it released in a puff. This was bad.

The simpler spells still worked -- sort of. He could make sparks, and force his wand to glow, and even summon something from across the room, but none of the more complicated, interesting, useful things. Transfiguration, as far as he could tell, did not work at all. A bust. A total bust.

He had managed to collect almost all the splinters of holly. They were held together with spell-o-tape which grew warm when the wand was in use. Yet some parts of the wand had seemed to vanish into the ether. Probably their absence was the truest problem with the wand now. It missed some of its parts and so could not fulfill some of its uses. If you looked at just the right angle, you could even catch sight of the greyed dragon heartstring within.

Footsteps, light as the air, sounded somewhere behind him. This always happened when Sandy tried to practice his magic. Kids loved to intrude on a kid doing his thing on his own.

He rounded, wand high as if about to hex.

"Don't you know better than coming up to someone doing magic?"

Sandy allowed the frustration at himself, born of his idiocy and ill-keeping of the thing which made him a wizard, to sour each of his words. What he wouldn't give for a working wand a good target right now. This kid didn't count. He was too unimpressive to even be a proper dueling opponent.

As if aware of Sandy's thoughts and intent to humble him, the spell-o-tape around his wand let loose, and the head of the wand hung limply by the few splinters which connected at the middle. Sandy's shoulders slumped in defeat.

16
1958 / Champ at the bit || Mimi
« on: 12/24/2019 at 00:28 »
"I - said - hold - still -"

Three years ago, he had rode a hippogriff. The animal had been docile but still terrifying. Mostly it was the talons. Too much like claws for Sandy's taste.

Horses - even winged ones, didn't have talons. They did have wings, which was the imperative part. Wings worked differently, as far as he could tell, to all the other parts of an animal. That's what made them cool. When he had ridden the hippogriff, his focus has been on not getting blasted away by Rebecca Silvers or Virtue Hir. The opportunity to look at the wings had barely come up.

One of the aethonan's rear legs kicked out. If Sandy had been standing behind it the animal, he would have earned a long stay the infirmary. The animal, for some reason, didn't want a saddle put on it at all. Which was stupid, because horses and saddles were made for one another.

In a deft motion, while Sandy leapt away from the bucking leg, the winged horse snatched the unfastened saddle away and flung it over the stall door. Sandy exchanged a tense, irritated look with the creature, and then began climbing to retreive the horse seat. Just as he reached the top, the animal gave an ecouraging shove with its nose and nearly sent Sandy tumbling.

Sandy scowled, retrieved the saddle, and began inspecting it for damage. It appeared fine. Then he jolted in shock and surprise, his heart giving a great and horrible lurch at the unexpected.

"Hope you only saw that happen the one time," he grinned at the girl sheepishly.

Mimi knew a great deal more about animals than Sandy. Her brusque practicality probably made observation a breeze. Furthermore, she didn't seem afraid even when she ought to be.

"Say, you don't know how to make a horse put on a saddle, do you?"

17
1958 / Bottom feeder | OPEN
« on: 12/21/2019 at 11:28 »
Plenty of fish had teeth. He had seen them. He had even been on the wrong end of a pike once, and still had a scar to remember if he ever forgot.

These fish were different though. They nibbled (if it could even be called that) ceaselessly about any organic matter that stilled too long in the clear waters. The sensation was somewhere in the middle of a foot massage and an aggressive tickle. He didn't hate it. Rather, he practically had made a habit of making his way to the strange creek with its strange nibbling fish. They swarmed around his feet, picking and tickling and occasionally surfacing just enough to splash at the rolled-up legs of his trousers.

Under the shade of the great yellowed cottonwood tree, he lazed and dozed and waited for the warmest part of the day to be over. The place was doubly nice because noone ever came to this little bend and bothered the fish or the boy. An enterprising kid (or a mega-nerd) would bring books to catch up on class readings before school even began. Sandy wasn't un-enterprising, but he also wasn't a meganerd and knew the great value of finding time to not do class readings.

"That's enough, you can come out."

He hadn't been sure, but then he was. Meek curiosity tumbled silently over the landscape. If Sandy had been a meganerd reading a book, he might never have noticed them at all.

"How long were you gonna spy on me?"

18
1958 / Whats a boy to do | Closed
« on: 12/18/2019 at 11:10 »
Two weeks before the camp of 1955, Sandy had introduced himself and asked if the girl wanted to kick a ball around. She'd said no. She'd said she hated football. That had been the beginning. The ending had been Arthur Gitbrain Darwin.

His face burned. All the tears already had transferred to his left sleeve, for Sandy had no wish to walk around camp like a crybaby. Sandy had lived down a lot more things than a normal kid. Yet walking around like a wuss carried more weight than that. Wusses were wusses forever. He didn't need that.

What he needed was someone who understood.

Since just after the camp of 1955, when he had snuck into the godawful prison they called a children's home and given Bea an early birthday gift, Sandy had not been lonely. Even with half the kids in the year above him calling him dumb and the other half ignoring him completely, Sandy had someone supporting him. When classes were too much and the emotional thrum of the castle blasted him sensely, Bea had been there. When Astro dumped him. Every time he got a letter from mum or didn't get a letter from mum or needed a place to stay because his stepdad didn't want him near the baby - Bea grounded Sandy in a way he couldn't put to words.

Now the tether between Sandy and the Earth had been cut. He floated in space. He raged against void where she had been.

Somewhere near the creek, Sandy knew there were kids having the summer of their lives. Nothing compared to the freedom and happiness that thrummed within them. He drew that happiness together. He gave it shape and sent it off. The wispy form of a lizard - Sandy didn't know the kind - darted off toward its target.










Everything's gone to shit. I need your help. Follow the lizard.

The spell had never worked before. He'd never tried. Yet it hadn't even passed his mind that failure were possible. He'd set his mind to doing the thing and it was done.

He waited in the cell for what felt like a long time. When, finally, footsteps echoed down the long passageway, the bony parts of Sandy's hands were raw from impacts with a cell wall. If ever he got his hands on Arthur -

He scrambled off the floor, not bothering to pat the dust from his trousers.

"Do you remember," he set his gaze upon the boy with eyes like coffee grounds, " - no wait, let me start over."

In a flash, Sandy was upon him. His showed teeth like a predator. The urge to run fingers through his hair lost out to his self-control. Only his throat, swallowing in apprehension, and his shaking hands betrayed the nerves he bundled away inside himself. He pushed the kid against the wall of the cell.

"Tell me you like me."

He pushed again, but there was no space behind Chris' back to go. His palm only compressed the boy's chest. The force was wasted on a kid who could push back easily.

"Say it."

19
1958 / Making waves || Odi
« on: 12/14/2019 at 16:48 »
Cliff-diving elicited only fragments of fear now. The first dive, which had involved twice this height and the rising of the sun and Artie's anger at what had been done to her, still came keenly to his mind each time a precipice loomed. Being scared and cliff-diving walked hand-in-hand.

The flaky stone earth at the top of the rise burned his footsoles with each step. In three great strides, Sandy launched himself, feeling the wind of his fall tear through his hair as the water rushed to meet him. Bum-first, he collided and sent water and waves carrying out over the surrounding area. His chest shook beneath the surface for a moment, exhilaration coursing through him at the wonderful fun of a freefall.

Sandy broke the surface with his forehead, refilled his lungs, and ran a forearm over his eyes to deter hair and water from inhibiting his sight.

"Aww man," his grin did nothing to hide the lack of true repentance, "did I get you?"

Anything which disrupted Aphrodite's day was a happy thing. Yet a happy accident was still an accident. He definitely hadn't meant to get anyone - even Aphrodite - with the wave of his cannonball.

"You shouldn't be so close to the splash zone."

20
Sunday, 3 August, 1958
High noon


Black silhouettes in the shape of winged scavengers circled high overhead, and a handful of reptiles sunned themselves in the burning light of the sun. The blistering heat proved too much even for the insects, who retreated into whatever shade could be found. Duelists, however, were offered no alternative except to bear the heat.

This part of the canyon stretched only a few meters wide - Useful for boxing in the duelists and forcing action. At other times of day, the canyon walls provided ample shade and provided a pretty restful atmosphere. Yet duels weren’t supposed to be restful and so the baking warmth provided incentive for a duel that was fast-paced and didn’t muck about. Slow duels sucked to watch.

Six barrels of water, three on each side, demarcated the edges of the make-shift block. The water no doubt had begun to feel the heat of the day, but it was still water and thus ensured that noone would pass out on top of the cacti and sharp rocks that littered the dueling area.

On the other sides of the barrels were the stands so that people could watch. The duelists were given Wild West costumes to wear for the duel to make it more appropriate.

“If you ain’t dueled before I’ll make it simple. You only get one disarm. If you try and stuff up, you get another one. Someone calls it quits, you don’t keep going at them. Clear?”

There were other rules, too, but only the dumbest kid needed them said out loud. Stuff like don’t kill someone.

“Alright, now everyone turn away from eachother. I’m gonna count to ten, and each number you take a step. When I say ten, all bets are off and you can start on eachother. 1.. 2…” just like a cowboy duel in the muggle movies, “3… 4… 5… 6… 7…”

The last vestiges of shadow disappeared as the sun struck its zenith. High noon.

“8… 9… 10!”



Your referee for this duel is Lysander Stone.

Only one successful disarming spell or action allowed per duelist.




Round 1 of 7:

Philip Carter - 90%

vs.

Beatrice Caulfield - 70%

vs.

Christoph Grey - 80%

vs.

Theadora Ivy - 80%

vs.

Kyra Tellavin - 80%


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