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Author Topic: a glimpse of the mind  (Read 231 times)

* Calliope Amberghast

    (04/29/2020 at 11:18)
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August fifteenth

Avaric bought me a new wand.

I'm still not sure how I feel about that? Angry that father won't buy me a wand. I'm supposed to be the favourite, out of all four of us I was sure that he liked me best and now he's willing to let me spend a year at the ultimate disadvantage.

All of my spending has been cut until September 1st which means anything I want I need to ask for, and I'm not that person. I shouldn't have to ask for what I want.

Nonetheless, I guess I am thankful that Avaric did buy the new wand. He called it a birthday present but I think it might be more than that? Nobody buys someone a wand for their birthday, they buy trinkets or scarves or perfume. Not wands. Buying the wand means something.

I'm sure of it.

It's so different from my old wand. Not at all what I expected. Before I had one that I picked and it was gorgeous, many of my Beauxbaton's friends, Odette in particular, were jealous of the sheen of the cherry wood and unicorn hair is just such a majestic core.

This time my wand picked me.

It's thinner, and more flexible than my old wand, which means it feels weird in my hand. Right. Better than any other wand has, but still weird. It makes the movements flow differently, my gestures don't have to be quite as aggressive and I think it means I will need to learn a new gracefulness in my spell casting.

I wonder if it will make me a better dueller.

Instead of the smooth cherry hue I had before, this wand is jet black. Whittled down from a stick of ebony, and carved with the impression of particular runes - the latter at my request. I did always like Ancient Runes class back in France. This wand seems so much more grown up, although I don't feel any more of an adult with it in my hands and it's still going to be used to pin my hair. But it does feel inexplicably me.

11 inches. Thin and flexible. Ebony carved with rune. Liquid boomslang venom core.

Maybe it's the change I need.
why am I always running in circles
              between wanting you to want me
and when you want me
     deciding it is too emotionally naked
                for me to live with

* Calliope Amberghast

    (04/29/2020 at 11:36)
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August nineteenth

On the Eighteenth of August  a funeral was held for Marilyn Darcy to be buried in the family mausoleum.

She was my father's sister. My aunt. My cousin's mother.

She was indulgent to some, and cold to others. She had always been nicer to me, adoring the role I played as a compliant pureblooded daughter. Always comparing me and Clara. Knowingly, or unknowingly driving that wedge in a little tighter to make the divide a little wider. Even now, I knew, that if Marilyn had have been alive she would have had a few choice words comparing their dresses or the way in which blonde hair fell in soft waves.

Her service didn’t seem to embody her at all, instead it embodied two strong bloodlines. Darcy and Amberghast, as Marilyn had been born and married between the two. A twisted combination of a powerful match.

It was beautiful, of course. There is no way it couldn’t be. Her coffin a polished black darker than my Father’s soul, darker than the hate glittering in Clara’s gaze. Flowers a stark white contrast, both elaborate and simplistic enough at once to scream a simple message. We are wealth, and we are power.

Even with one gone we are an amass of both, and we stand strong.

Death does not destroy us.

Personally, I stood so rigid you would have thought I had been petrified again. With my hand in Avaric’s, holding so tight I’m surprised his bones didn’t crush, all I could do is stare straight ahead. At the many faces who hadn’t known Marilyn Darcy at all. I couldn’t focus, I couldn’t breathe, because my father stood behind me. One hand clamped down on my shoulder in a steady warning.

Behave.

I didn’t move a muscle in fear, not until he walked away, with low words that he would see us at Seyridge for the wake, and even then I couldn’t bring myself to seek out Clara. She had asked me, the day after her mother's death, to sit beside her in this moment, but the chasm between us is far too wide now for that to happen. It was not my job, nor my place to go near Clara and make sure she was okay that day. She would endure too many fake smiles and false condolences to add mine to the mix.

I lasted only two hours of what would be a long night at Seyridge Manor, one hour of watching Clara rotate the room, noting every tilt of her chin and pulling on her lips, considering whether her fingers fluttered by her hip because she was searching for her wand. I watched and I waited, until she caught my eye. Grey into grey. I winked. Before I turned to Avaric and murmured that it was time to go.

Clara Darcy will survive without me.
« Last Edit: 04/29/2020 at 11:39 by Calliope Amberghast »
remember how we worked
to make it hurt

* Calliope Amberghast

    (04/29/2020 at 12:13)
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August twenty-first

Cayden Cox is the most perplexing person I have ever met. He’s a mudblood, in all honesty there is exactly zero special things about him except for the fact that he got lucky when it came to magic. Yet he has this arrogance and cheeky confidence that is far above his station. The sort of you find in purebloods.

He used the bloody tip of his wand to lift my chin and I swear my heart has never raced so fast. I didn’t know whether he was going to hex me or kiss me at that moment. That cheeky grin didn’t give anything away, it just made my stomach knot up.

He kissed me. Or I suppose, I kissed him?

I’m not really sure, it wasn’t planned at all.

I’d managed to avoid him since. Until I managed to get locked in the upper year boys cabins with him. During which he proved that he’s an idiot since he gave his wand away to a first year, and named his broom after a girl he hadn’t seen since he was eleven years old.

Boys, idiots the lot of them.

I have to admit though, as scary as it was to be on the back of a broom instead of firmly in control, Camp Loki had never looked as good as it did from the sky. Each continental area sprawled out, you could even see the peculiar way that the jungle of Peru tumbled into the sands of Africa.

I thought he’d walk away afterwards. When I told him that there were other people. Especially when I admitted to Avaric after lying outright the other day that I wasn’t engaged. Which, technically I’m not. Not until my birthday, so it wasn’t that much of a lie. But most people would have walked away. If he had said it to me, I would have hopped off that broom and marched right off. I don’t share. Or at least, I don’t like sharing.

Cayden surprised me though. He doesn’t seem to be going anywhere. I’m not sure how he always surprises me. How for someone so utterly boring, he’s also rather intriguing.

He’s beginning to become very hard to stay away from.
remember how we worked
to make it hurt

* Calliope Amberghast

    (04/29/2020 at 12:36)
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August twenty four

Camp ends tomorrow.

Most of today has been dedicated to screaming at annoying first years that if they don’t start packing their things up I’m going to start lobbing them off the side of the mountain. Everyone thought it was a hilarious joke, ha ha. Until I pitched a broomstick down the stairs. Then they all seemed to get the message.

Lysander can deal with the rest of it. I’m done managing this lot for the summer, I think. I just want to pack everything up, go for one last lazy swim around Lake Ontario and have some fun at the multicultural feast for the end of camp dinner.

All my things are already packed, I’ve shoved my trunk into Avaric’s room since I’ll be going to Bramford tomorrow when we leave. The only thing left to do is to fix up my room. True to my conversation with Clint I’d changed nearly everything about it over the summer. The bed spans nearly wall to wall, fluffy and comfortable instead of the bed that had been there before, a soft pink and white gauzy canopy tied at each four posts. The couch was larger, and the desk was gone. Lights float lazily along the ceiling.

Maybe I should have taken a picture of it for the journal but nevermind that now. All I had to do was right what I’d changed, and Clint did say that no matter what I did the magic of the camp itself would right it again.

And I have a shiny new wand, in need of testing out. So I couldn’t help it.

I destroyed it all.
strapped down to something that I don't understand
don't know what I'm getting myself into

* Calliope Amberghast

    (04/29/2020 at 12:45)
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August twenty five

It’s time to go home, or well, to Bramford Manor. Which I suppose these days is as good as home. Harrowdown Hall feels colder, scarier, which is sad because it used to be my safe space.

Everything is packed, everyone seems to be excited. One week more of freedom and then we’re all back at school. One summer completely done.

What a summer is was! Enough happened to make me feel positively sick and giddy about it all at once.

I had twenty minutes before I left with Avaric. Just long enough to pull Cayden aside at the Great Wall and kiss him hard enough that he better not forget me in the next week.

If he doesn’t hate me when the first day arrives.

There’s no time to waste on that though. Avaric will be back in a minute for us to floo back, so I need to stop writing and get moving. Find somewhere to hide this book now that summer is done and I have no use for it. Plus I have only those few minutes to squash every bit of nerves in my belly.

One week until my birthday. One week until the announcement.

The one big end to summer.

Xx
Calliope
why am I always running in circles
              between wanting you to want me
and when you want me
     deciding it is too emotionally naked
                for me to live with