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Author Topic: silver spoon has fed me good | cal  (Read 183 times)

Athanasia Valenti

    (04/07/2019 at 03:44)
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villa ephrussi de rothschild
around 10 pm

When Athanasia had received the invitation via owl, she’d barely been able to keep the smile off her face. The rest of the day was spent exchanging letters with her grandmother, planning what to wear and gossiping about who they’d see. Athanasia couldn’t wait. She hadn’t attended a proper Pureblood event since the Christmas holidays, and, upon finding out she’d been sentenced to a summer at Camp Loki, was sure she’d have to wait a whole year to again.

The start of the evening had found her floating from group to group, dazzling party-goers and collecting compliments, mostly about her attire. The dress was v-necked with flowing butterfly sleeves that almost reached her elbows. It clung to her upper-body, cinched at the waist with a small bow, and then fanned out to pool effortlessly onto the floor. It was made of stunning blue chiffon, mixed with the slightest tint of turquoise to give it a pop. The fabric itself was already laced with fine sparkles, but Ioanna had insisted on using a charm to enhance their shine. When she moved, the dress glowed, like a sea of glitter cascading down her body before spilling out across the polished tile. It was perfect.

She was perfect. Or at least, she appeared that way, all done-up with her effortless hair and jewelry worth more than a flat in Italy. She was back in her element, untethered from the confines of camp and returned at last to the familiar comforts of her lifestyle. She lived for this.

Except tonight she didn’t care to. Instead of continuing to waltz around inside, showing off her enchanted dress and expensive jewelry, she had retreated to the balcony, like she was some pathetic wallflower who wilted at the idea of small talk and socialization. She’d never gawked at such tasks before— maybe as a child, but what six year old didn’t— so one could imagine the shock when accosted by a sudden desperate urge to flee. It became so overwhelming that eventually she’d been forced to excuse herself for air.

Lithe fingers reached up to fiddle with the diamond neckpiece she vaguely remembered her mother clasping around her neck earlier that day. It was a welcome contrasting cool to the heat of her hand. The free arm bent to rest an elbow on the railing and her chin fell snugly into the open palm. A heavy sigh escaped her, equal-parts wistful and distressed. Admittedly, it was a tad melodramatic, but it was permissible on the grounds that she felt it adequately summed-up her emotions about the night.

Calvin Sharppe

    (04/08/2019 at 19:21)
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Uncomfortably, Calvin adjusted the tightness of his tie for the tenth time that evening. There was no excuse of being a camp counselor at Camp Loki, or that he was “overloaded” with coursework at Hogwarts castle. There was no avoiding it this time around. If anything, his parents had seen his transition into a professional Quidditch player as a glorified hobby which meant more time could be delegated towards pureblood activities. It meant spending more time with his mother.

Being a part of the end-of-summer festivities meant Calvin had to dress up. In addition to his insufferable tie, its tight hold on his neck like a dog collar, he had to wear a button down shirt in contrast to his usual t-shirt attire, with khaki pants to match. It felt too snug in all the wrong places, too long for his below-average length torso. Part of him was optimistic that he would grow into it, but reality was Calvin Sharppe had stopped growing a long time ago.

He started out his evening simple enough, hovering around the circles of London’s Ministry of Magic elite. They seemed genuinely impressed that he was a part of a pro team and it was easy to exchange banter with bureaucrats who were more used to the comforts of their mahogany desks than the lively action of a Quidditch Pitch. His mum shuffled him around the tables, embarrassingly proud of his accomplishments, even if Calvin didn’t necessarily hold the same feelings. It was half-truth half-show. If he could have performed better at school, if he had followed in his father’s footsteps of being in the Ministry, Calvin would have actually believed her words.

As the chatter grew more repetitive, as he finished circling the various hors d'oeuvre platters until there was almost nothing left, Calvin found himself wandering outside of the social clusters to get a breath of fresh air. His hands once more went to his neckline in an attempt to loosen his tie once more, thinking perhaps his mum had permanently charmed it to reject his countless protests. He then heard a sigh, one of boredom? Or maybe just fatigue from a long night. When he turned his head he didn’t recognize the girl’s face, though she seemed young and around his age. After looking the whole night at well dressed women, he wasn’t surprised at the elaborate costume the woman adorned, but still found his eyes wandering southward and then back up. “You can say that again,” he affirmed, nodding his head to her sigh. “We should just call it a night and Apparate out of here.”

His mum would send a stern letter in the morning for not bidding her a farewell. He knew his parents loved him too much and spoiled him so far already that there was no repercussion which he could take that he couldn't handle. A cocky smirk, a glint of escapism danced against his brown eyes.
RECKLESS


maybe i might get a little

Athanasia Valenti

    (04/09/2019 at 01:40)
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A small tilt of her chin, just barely angled in the boys direction, was the only acknowledgment she was willing to give his presence. Out of the corner of her eye, she could’ve sworn she’d watched him look her up and down, though it was equally possible that her mind was playing tricks to keep her from drowning in absolute boredom. The mention of ditching the party was enough to earn full turn of her head. It wasn’t far enough to meet his gaze, but still showed she was listening. She had planned to retain an air of indifference a little longer, but this was an opportunity she didn’t want to miss.

“Well, the night’s just begun.” This was a lie. It felt like the night had been going on forever, but she chose not to reveal her true thoughts on the party in the interest of keeping up the facade. “Besides, is it really worth upsetting my grand mum? She had to fight my mum tooth and nail just to get permission to drag me away from-” Was it wise to mention Camp Loki? If he turned out to be older than he appeared, she wasn’t sure how’d he react to the idea of spending the evening with a girl still in secondary school. Despite the fact that she considered herself to be as mature as, if not more than, any functioning woman in society, some people still got hung up on numbers.

“-a previous commitment.” He was the first person she’d met at the event who could genuinely hold her attention for longer than five minutes. She wasn’t going to let him slip away so easily. “Of course, should you present a particularly convincing argument, I might be tempted.”

This could be fun, but he was going to have to work for it. She was the pickiest with people. Everyone had some sort of purpose or use. The company she kept, no matter how long she planned on keeping it, was the result of a highly selective set of standards. If time was money, hers was counted in diamonds.

In one gracefully fluid motion, she drew herself to her full height and turned so she could properly face her companion for the time being. Hands now free, she extended one in his direction, dainty fingers hanging in the air. “Athanasia Pantazis-Valenti.” She met his eyes for the first time. At a glance, her face gave little away, though a closer inspection would reveal the slightest twinkle in her eyes or the way her lips were just starting to pull up at the corners; the faint beginnings of a smile. “State your case.”
« Last Edit: 04/09/2019 at 05:27 by Athanasia Valenti »

Calvin Sharppe

    (04/11/2019 at 03:59)
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“Besides, is it really worth upsetting my grand mum? She had to fight my mum tooth and nail just to get permission to drag me away from-”

"...From?" Cal quirked a inquisitive brow up at the girl. Knowing the girl wasn't from Hogwarts, for he would have seen her through the patrols late at night or during the classes they would've hypothetically attended together, Calvin assumed the girl was from out of town or a new arrival of some sort. It was hard to find new purebloods in old societies and so when a new face popped up, Calvin jumped on the potential to make a new friend, another connection. He had lost Virtue Hir's pleasant company a while back ago; Dorian Fortnum had slipped past his fingers into Sylvia's and Calvin had yet to find a new companion to brave the treacherous party waters in.

“Of course, should you present a particularly convincing argument, I might be tempted.”

He was quick to think that anything, even cleaning up the menagerie after an especially rowdy Care of Magical Creatures lesson, was better than the drab that was this party. Cal was aching to get his hands dirty, to experience the rumblings of something messier and less refined than the prim and pristine boundaries that a pureblood party provided. This... new character, who seemed apathetic to her current surroundings- she was in fact the very antithesis of what he was running away from. She seemed perfectly capable of melting into the background, happy to be on display with the rest. That was, unless she wanted to prove him wrong.

A slight shrug of his shoulders. "If you're happy here, be my guest and stay.." His words lingered slightly, trailing off to leave the sentence unfinished. As if to say, but really...

“Athanasia Pantazis-Valenti.”

'Long name.' Calvin thought to himself. The kind of name with some history and probably a bunch of demands. "Calvin Sharppe," he returned in a similar tone, knowing the importance of saying one's name and being remembered. He knew he caught her attention then, and Cal now looked around the balcony for the quickest exit. That way of course, was down. Now all he needed to do was conjure a broom...

“State your case.”

"I hear they keep merpeople in the reflecting pool." Another tug of his tie, fingers fumbling from behind where the knot was. "Was going to see if such cruelty was real or just a rumor." His left hand fished deep around the pocket of his jacket which he easily shrugged off, the humid summer air being too much for him to keep it on, to get his wand. "Spongify!" He cast towards the ground, knowing that if there was no flying instrument to bring him to his destination, he would just have to jump down to a soft landing. The spell had been useful more than once and its various usage over the years had Calvin be an almost expert at the charm. He looked down and then looked to his left. "You coming?"
RECKLESS


maybe i might get a little

Athanasia Valenti

    (04/12/2019 at 03:04)
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“It’s not important.” Her hand brushed at empty air, waving the question out of their conversation and, hopefully, out of the boy's mind. “I’d rather forget about it.”

Athanasia wasn’t lying. Camp Loki wasn’t important. It was the last thing on her mind. It was forgettable. She was forgetting about it. She was not a liar if she chose to omit information, especially if she knew it would save them from another boring conversation about school and Hogwarts and yuck. The whole reason she’d been so excited to attend the party in the first place was to escape.

“Right now…”

In the few short months she’d spent at the summer camp, it had managed to invade all enjoyable areas of her life and take. Constantly being surrounded by people, majority of whom she couldn’t care less for, and restricted by a wealth of unnecessary rules, like the fact that campers couldn’t use magic— counselors, kids who were the same age, or younger, than her, could, which was moronic— had Athanasia feeling particularly out-of-control. It wasn’t a feeling she cared to have. Her life was lived in a series of instructions. If they weren’t coming from her family, she was being bossed around by some Professor, or, worse, some obnoxious Prefect who thought themself smart.

Now, standing on this balcony with Calvin Sharppe, she had control. If she wanted to jump, she could. If she wanted to run back inside to familiarity, surrounded by family and boring political banter, she could do that as well. A brief glance back inside the party confirmed what she already knew. She didn’t want that.

The sharp click of heels as she crossed to stand beside him ended the silence she’d created; a product of her drawn-out decision making.

“I think I’d much rather focus on you.”

Nimble fingers, quick in their movements, made a beeline for the older boys neck in the hopes of removing his tie. The boy must’ve tugged it at least three times since she’d met him only a couple minutes ago. It was getting sad. No matter how many times he pulled, it never seemed to loosen to his content. “Let me help before you strangle yourself,” she hummed, giving him a pointed why-don’t-you-know-how-to-do-this-already look, though it came off less accusatory and more pitying.

“I’m-” she paused, eyes drifting to the ground. Hard stone stared menacingly back. Did she trust his spell-work? His skill with a tie was certainly questionable. “You’re asking for a lot, Mr.Sharppe. I'm entrusting you with my life. I could wind up dead. We both could.”
« Last Edit: 04/12/2019 at 04:43 by Athanasia Valenti »

Calvin Sharppe

    (04/15/2019 at 02:47)
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"Right now..."...“I think I’d much rather focus on you.”

The sound of her feet approaching made him stand up straighter, perhaps a residual effect from his childhood from the many nannies clicking their heels as a sign of authority and trouble approaching. But his heart rate accelerated for more than just a pavlovian response. It was hard to deny the brunette’s elegance and beauty. That was what all these pureblood girls had- a superiority complex that stemmed from years of careful breeding and raising. Every tilt of the head, every direction in which calculated eyes looked, was planned and made to seem as if they had been predicting this very moment since their conception.

Calvin never knew how his mum always knew when he was up to no good, when to send the next care package as soon as the previous one was eaten up in a late night frenzy. But he could roughly deduce that she held the same look of consideration Athanasia had now. He allowed her to take hold of the tie, lifting his chin slightly and waited for more deft fingers to loosen the suffocating noose from his neck. “Another reason to hate these bloody parties,” he commented gruffly as she worked, only slightly peeved that he couldn’t get it off himself but ultimately not minding the excuse for dainty fingers to linger closer.

“You’re asking for a lot, Mr. Sharppe. I'm entrusting you with my life. I could wind up dead. We both could.”

His face scrunched up into a look of disbelief at her words. He then shook his head dismissively. “Not likely.” Hands leaned against the railing of the balcony, another peak down at the spongy ground waiting to be landed upon. Sure, this girl didn’t have the knowledge of his spell casting expertise- that he conjured large boulders from out of thin air and rode through treacherous illusion of lava pits to near victory just a few short months ago. He had graduated with almost straight Os in everything outside of Divination and Transfiguration. There was no real use in touting his magical ability, to boast when it would only make him look like an ass.

Better just to demonstrate. “You’ll just have to trust me.” Calvin then looked up at the girl and flashed a wide toothy smile. It was the kind of smile that always won the likes of Cecelia Bramston at the end of a evening and the expression that kept Marina Lamont from holding a grudge on the lion- the kind face that was filled with more hope and optimism than an eighteen year old boy should hold. There was no malice or ill intentions hidden behind his brown eyes. If she took the extended hand that he was holding out, he would jump when she did, a mutual plunge into the next exciting adventure of the evening.
RECKLESS


maybe i might get a little

Athanasia Valenti

    (04/18/2019 at 01:25)
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It reminded her of Greece; here, on the edge of the balcony, arms outstretched to cut through the gentle night breeze. It trickled through her hair, not strong enough to lift whole strands, but with ample force to toss a few of the tips about. In Greece, the wind was stronger, particularly along the coast. Sometimes she’d lay out atop the big jagged cliffs for hours, just letting the stream blast through her brown locks until the sharp saltiness it carried was so ingrained in her scalp it wouldn’t wash out for a whole week.

Standing on the balcony felt like coming home. The winds were softer and the smell was less piercing, but when she closed her eyes the minor details were easily forgotten and she could almost envision herself back home in Greece. It wasn’t perfect, but then again, nothing could ever compare to her beloved homeland. No other place would be able to own her heart so fiercely, but in this moment the balcony came close enough.

It was this that made her jump, not the boy’s smile, albeit charming, or the reassuring way he gripped her hand, but the familiar feeling of home that filled her bones with courage and instilled her with trust.

She didn’t say anything before she did it, just squeezed his hand a little harder, and jumped.

Air that was typically warm with summers heat turned cold at the rate at which it rushed past her, swallowing her up as she fell down, down, down. Her eyes squeezed tight, bracing for impact… that never came. Much to her surprise, the landing was soft. It felt a lot like how clouds looked; airy and bouncy and light.

At some point, either when she first accepted the gesture or sometime during her Grecian day-dream, she’d chosen to intertwine their fingers. Now, feet safely planted on the ground, she broke the clasp. “Be thankful your spell worked.” Because otherwise, you would’ve just murdered an heiress, she wanted to add, because it made her sound important and, regardless of who she was talking to or whether she valued their opinion or not, she liked to come across as someone not only worthy of their time, but so impressive that they might not be worthy of hers. Instead, she kept her mouth shut, not because she was ashamed or scared of her title, but because she decided that she’d left that part of her on the balcony along with the rest of her inhibitions.

“Well, go on. Lead the way.”

Calvin Sharppe

    (04/19/2019 at 19:10)
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When he felt the apprehensive squeeze, Calvin smiled, bending his knees slightly before launching himself downward. Legs and arms flailed wildly, and he even let out a roaring hollar of excitement as they descended. It reminded him of the times he used to jump off the cliffs of summer camp, inhibitions put on hold in the safety of the space where he spend July and August.

Having been used to his own spellwork, Calvin knew what to expect when he landed on the spongy platform. His bum took most of the initial impact, hands flung out from his sides to balance himself. When the bounciness slowed to a slight steady vibration, Calvin turned his legs and pushed himself up from his knees and waited for Athanasia to regain her composure.

“Be thankful your spell worked.”

“You’re welcome,” he said, returning the cheek. Calvin was all about setting, making, and exceeding expectations. If Athanasia had any doubts about what he could do, perhaps she would think twice the next time. He hummed slightly, happy to have accomplished impressing her (in his head), relieved at escaping the stuffy party, and especially glad to be rid of the suffocating tie.

“Well, go on. Lead the way.”

Happy to get as far away from the ledge as possible before his mum or another familiar adult laid witness to his work, Calvin began to walk in the direction of what he believed to be the reflecting pool. "Should just be up ahead." The space was big but gardens were predictable- so long as one kept walking, they would eventually hit their destination. As he did so, his hand resting behind his head as his feet moved him forward, he looked over at the brunette curiously. “So where’d you come from anyway, Athanaus-” His own tongue began tripping over itself. “Anthan. Thanny? Can I call you Thanny? I haven’t seen you before- d’you go to Hogwarts?”
It's a beautiful day and

I CAN'T STOP
myself from smiling

Athanasia Valenti

    (04/23/2019 at 23:52)
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Usually she would’ve said something, snapped probably, but Calvin had done her a favor, rescuing her from the bore that was the party, and so she felt she owed him at least a bit of her patience.

“Fine. Just until you learn to say it the right way.”

The way she phrased it made it sound like she’d be seeing him again, and, as she realized this, she also realized that the idea didn’t phase or disgust her like it usually did. She knew what most pureblooded boys, at least the ones at the parties, were like. Most were boring, two-dimensional, and too stupid to be inheriting large sums of money. Calvin Sharppe was none of these things.

At his last question, a sigh drifted out through her lips, parted slightly in their pout. She was trapped with no where to go, and it displeased her severely. Rarely was she so careless to create situations in which she was left without an escape route. Then again, this time wasn’t really her fault. She’d done her best to dodge his prying inquiries, how was she to know he’d still persist?

The feeling of being caught was not a pleasant one, and, in her annoyance, she drifted further away from him, stepping out of range of the effects of his charismatic pull. Instead of bumping shoulders with him, her arm now tingled with each brush of bush, leaf, or flower to her left. It was cold and scratchy compared to his comforting warmth, but still, in stubborn silence, she continued to keep the distance.

Eventually, after many moments of thought, she decided to answer his question. It was her choice, she thought, and she was making it of her own free will, not because Calvin had asked one too many times for her to come up with a suitable excuse and certainly not because she was desperate to keep his company. Athanasia Valenti was never desperate for anything. If it was worth being desperate for, she probably already had it.

“If you must know, I’m still at Hogwarts.” Pause. “A sixth year.” And then, because she was feeling funny,  “Is my face really so forgettable?”

It was a joke, but like most of her remarks, it came out in an icy deadpan. The only give away was the soft way the light seemed to dance in her eyes and the slightest quirk of her lip.

Calvin Sharppe

    (05/01/2019 at 03:55)
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“Fine. Just until you learn to say it the right way.”

“Thany. Athan…” Under his breath, Calvin muttered a bunch of variations of the name. His tongue curled as it tried to get used to the “nas” afte the “th,” an unfamiliarity to his lips. His mood was light, playful, carefree. It was in stark contrast to the more stiff and formal girl who now walked beside him. Calvin was used to this of course, having grown up with so many stuffy purebloods. Dorian Fortnum was one- and that never stopped the Gryffindor from befriending him despite how many times the tall lanky boy man tried to rid himself of Cal’s company. 

For a moment, Calvin didn’t realize that the girl had slowly started to drift away from him. The garden’s pathway was so broad, the cobblestones echoed loudly against their footsteps, that it wasn’t until the lingering silence found him that he realized the girl was actively being avoidant with the question. A slight tinge of annoyance at himself first for having said the wrong thing to another woman; time and time again it seemed he put his foot in his mouth without meaning to. But then he switched the dial, finding his irritated mood more pointed at the girl instead. He hadn’t really done anything wrong now, had he?

They had almost approached their destination, Calvin finding his mood growing bored with the stilled atmosphere, when she relented and spoke. It came to a surprise and his ears twitched slightly at her voice.

“If you must know, I’m still at Hogwarts.”

From the sounds of it, Hogwarts was the equivalent of being from Azkaban.

“A sixth year.” … “Is my face really so forgettable?”

No, his tone was still light but more insistent this time. Had he seen her Cal was sure he would've remembered the face, the sharp way her eyes seemed to look at everything. “But apparently mine is,” he teased back, figuring that being Prefect for three years and Quidditch captain for one would have stayed in the minds of most students. But once again that must have been his ego talking again. She wasn’t in his house and they didn’t have any classes together- there was little reason for the two to know each other and yet the expectation of both of them thinking they stood in the center of all that went on at Hogwarts was displayed front and center. He looked briefly ahead of him, the glint of the evening moon glinting off in the water’s reflection. “You should enjoy it while you can- the real world’s not so…” Forgiving? Fun? Interesting? Calvin wasn’t sure how he should finish the sentence and so left his words lingering like the air between them.


lush life giving me a rush

had one chance to make me blush second time is one too late




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