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21
...
.....
Blink. Blinkblinkblink.
Cassian shuffled and wiggled himself into a new position, taken aback by his cousin's...disproportionately animated reaction. By the time he felt Wyatt's foot wedge beneath his leg, he knew the relaxing position had been lost. Cass straightened, his hand reaching out to nudge the foot that threatened to rob him of his earlier comfort.
"I..." Nudge "...don't think I know where to begin with all..." brown eyes looked him up and down "this." Wy was a sight to behold. Face redder than the lipstick on a certain femme fatale whose portrait hung not far from them, his hands clutching so tightly to the now crumpled pieces of paper that Cassian worried he'd break his fingers.
He raised one bushy brow at his company. "Blackmail?" Cass threw his head back over the other armrest, his body unable to return to its earlier splayed position. It was a little awkward but what choice did he have when his cousin was on his way to a minorly massive implosion over...Lorelai? That's what he'd read, yes?
"I just meant getting help setting up for the duelling matches--you promised to help with those anyway." Was he sure he got out often enough? This couldn't have been healthy. "But first," he returned his gaze to his direction, "I figured if it was enough for you to write about it, you might also wanna talk about it?" But judging by the reaction...maybe not.
When had Wyatt become shy about his writing? They always shared their muses.
"I liked that third one. You really managed to tap into the raw emotions that'll stir a crowd. When are you gonna read them to her?"
22
When the next gust of wind barrelled its way through, Rae began to think that even shooting practice would be more trouble than it was worth. It was her fault really. Knowing she planned to get in some practice before returning to her room for an afternoon nap, the little girl knew she shouldn't have eaten so much. While it couldn't be considered a miscalculation, it was a clear display of indiscipline. Rae had fallen out of a lot of her practice routines since she got home and with the way things were going, it would likely only get worse if she didn't nip it in the bud.
Whether she could keep her eyes open or not, she would need to practice.
Rae kneeled before the ball trunk, the wind whipping at her back. She tugged the quaffle free but soon found herself distracted by a figure moving toward her at some speed from the corner of her eyes. Looking up, dark eyes fell on none other than her blonde friend.
The little girl got back to her feet as he came to a stop by her, an easy grin slipping into place. Of all the people who could've stumbled onto the pitch that fine morning, she certainly wasn't mad it was him. Percy was perhaps one of her least complicated friends and that went a long way for the girl so determined to have herself a soft girl~ summer away from the big feelings that had plagued her during the term.
"I could use the company, yeah. Was gonna do some shooting practice so if you want, we could take turns being the keeper. Otherwise..." Her gaze fell to the trunk where the bludgers tugged against their chains. "Two for practice would make beater practice less of a pain." Not being the only one chasing the bludger would certainly keep her on her toes...er...broom.
"Either way," she said, her shoulders rising in an indulgent shrug. Practice was practice.
23
Listen she said so listen Rae did. Allison's voice carried into the kitchen, following her down the line of counters while she searched for the perfect snack. There was something about reports...something something...her bed and nights--raw cookie dough, and they were a chocolate chip mix!!
Could Allison bake? If not, Rae didn't mind eating the raw dough. She would just need to be careful to avoid eating too much otherwise she'd have a different reason to be seeing her counsellor that night.
No thanks.
Speaking of things Rae held little interest in...the little girl spun around to face her prison warden. A letter for her to go home immediately. She listened through the remainder of what was shaping up to be an unappealing proposition. Calling Ophelia and packing all her things sounded like the sorts of things Rae didn't particularly care to do. "No, thank you," she chirped, launching off the counter she'd been leaning against.
Snatching the package of raw cookie dough off the counter, she moved back to the counter that separated the kitchen from the rest of the cafe. "I like it here, even if nearly all my friends got put on the other team." More accurately put, Rae liked the little freedoms she felt she'd regained with her return to camp. It was a world far removed from the one she'd been running from, almost like a castle in the sky. It floated so high that she didn't have to remember there was such a thing as the ground.
Rae extended the raw cookie dough, clearing her throat in the hope of gaining her attention. "This one," she said. "If you bake them, we can share after. There's probably milk, too. I can check." She nudged the dough closer before turning to head for the fridge.
Mmm, she could smell the cookies already.
24
REQUEST:
Character: Benji Cuddrun
→ Face Claim: Levi Miller
Images or Symbols: Skateboards, sketch pencils/markers, or whatever you’re inspired by!
Any Text/Quote/Lyric You Would Like: this all was only wishful thinking
Colors: No preference
Theme: Open!
Specific Requests: Nope, you’re awesome!!
25
Was he picky about the water being Lagoon water? Seriously? Charly just scrunched up her face a little, not sure whether he was being funny or serious. Water was water. His shirt was not sticky anymore, the grass was mostly gone and even some of the stains were not visible anymore. What more could he possibly want? Boys could be really dense sometimes. Adrian had told her that, and he was a boy!
Charly had reached the shore, and crawled up the grass, trying to get to her feet. He was following her again, and the thrill of that alone was enough to make her hurry up even more. She'd get to it before he did. For sure.
Her arms extended towards the board, but then Skaterboy was there and kicked it away. Not so precious after all, if he rather kicked it than let her have it. She would remember that for next time. Before she could jump after it, she felt his arms around her waist and the tickling thrill that had been in her stomach exploded like a volcano. When she had been small, this had always scared her. Getting caught, dragged somewhere against her will. But this? This was just a game and he was surprisingly strong.
Charly flew through the air as he threw her into the water once more and a shriek of delight escaped her. This, she had not anticipated at all, but there were no rules to these things. All was fair. She landed hard on her bottom on the ground of the lagoon, and emerged a few seconds later, gasping for air. He'd beat her, even though she'd been sure she would be faster than him.
Getting up again, and wading through the water towards the shore again, Charly's eyes shone brightly up at him. They sparkled with mischief and a little annoyance at him mocking her, but perhaps also a little admiration for having bested her, if only by being stronger than her.
"Don't call me that, Skaterboy!" She'd reached the shore by now, and came up to him, poking him into his stomach with her finger. His hands were up there with the skateboard, so he could not defend himself anyway. "Not a leprakon." Charly could not even pronounce that word, but she still was not a dwarf.
Her grey eyes narrowed at him. "Fine. Du hast gewonnen*. This time." Seeing his scrapes and bruises, and thinking of the one that would grow on his shins from her kick, it did not feel so much like a loss to her anyway. She'd tripped him, stole his board, drowned him, kicked him, poked him. All points for her. And now he would teach her too. Charly lost her scowl and started to smile again. "Food? All that chasing. Jetzt bin ich hungrig*."
Charly eyed the skateboard for a moment, but she really was hungry now. "Komm*. Wetten*, the blonde counselor Mädchen* will blow her whistle at us for sitting down nass und dreckig*?" She had to giggle at the thought, oblivious that her words were a mix of German and English. Her hands on his shoulders behind him, she shoved Skaterboy forward towards the cafe.
*you won
*now I'm hungry
*come (imperative)
*wanna bet
*girl
*wet and dirty
26
Nael had been fascinated by Cordelia's ability to change the color of her hair since he'd first seen it. It seemed like a very cool ability to have, and he wondered if she had much control over it or if it was just her body's way of expressing emotions. If the latter was the case, Nael was glad he wasn't able to do this. It was always better to keep emotions hidden. "The dark blue suits you. Are the colors purely linked to your emotions or can you decide to have pink hair whenever you want?"
It made sense what she said. He'd seen enough duels to know how annoying it was to get disarmed right in the middle of it. Last term it had happened to him as well, and it was just a hassle. It was a strategic move, Nael had to admit that, but it was also a coward move. Were they allowed to use wandless magic in a duel though? In the real world it probably was. A fight was a fight, but in school? "I get that. Getting disarmed sucks. I wonder what would happen if you glued the thing to your hands before a duel."
"As to the core... not quite yet, no. Emotional stability is a bit of a big ask. Don't you think?"
Nael thought about that for a moment, but then nodded. It was a big ask, especially from teenagers. Maybe that's why this wasn't taught to them in school. Nael knew he would never be capable of this. While had good control over his emotions by now, at least to anyone looking at him, the storms that sometimes raged within him would never allow him to do magic without a wand. Even with his wand, he messed up his spells when he was anxious, scared or very upset.
"I guess that's why mostly grown ups can do this kind of magic. Some of them know how to balance," he said quietly and shrugged. A thought had come to him, but wasn't sure he should say it. She had not really asked for his help, had she? "I might know someone that can help with that. If you want help, that is." He'd seen Nabih do magic without his wand, and if anyone had emotional balance, or no emotions whatsoever, it was his father. "You got a lot of information already, so all it takes is practise, right?"
27
“.....I'm not as innocent as you think I am, but I'll try to be as honest.”
Allison read the last sentence of the book for the night, as Rae was nestled in her arms listening intently. The book stayed silently levitating in Allison's eyeline.
The clock had struck 2 in the morning, and Allison had been reading to Ruth for the last hour. Throughout the summer, the counselors attempts to placate the girl had been met with resistance in various forms day after day. It was only after realizing her need for cuddling was the way in, Allison asked Ruth to come to the lounge whenever she couldn't sleep. There, they'd dine on the snacks spread around the lounge and Allison would read whatever book she was reading at the moment.
She'd chosen The Maltese Falcon for tonight, with Brigid O'Shaughnessy as the featured femme fatale. If she had to lull a child to sleep with a book, might as well have a strong character to listen in on.
With the book having been levitated, Allison's hands were free to interchange between stroking the little girls hair and braiding it. There were a few times that Allison almost nodded off herself, but she kept up the pace with the story. She didn't stop to check if the little girl had fallen asleep, but at least this way she was at peace that the girl was getting some semblace of rest during the night.
"Hey, little hummingbird," Allison whispered. "Are you still awake?"
28
Allison offered the boy a polite suggestion, only to be met with a sharp, dismissive attitude. Her eyes lingered on him for a moment, then she simply turned away without a word, deciding he wasn’t worth her effort. Her fellow counselors eyes were also screaming to get her away from the chaos of the children. Allison didn't know if she knew the rude boy or she was just stressed from the youngins, but she'd help out either way.
Allison cheerful voice broke through the moment as she turned her eyes back at Rosalie. "Hey, Rosalie, you don’t have to deal with the young ones now. I’ll take care of them if you want. You can take Nael around if you'd like."
She pulled out her wand and summoned a particularly squishy lounge chair and an umbrella to match. She laid down and placed her clipboard on the floor, and took out her book on the return up.
Settling in, she opened her book, the familiar scent of parchment bringing her instant comfort. As the sun filtered through her umbrella, Allison relaxed, content to let others handle the chaos while she found her peace.
29
REQUEST:Character: Nael Al-Azma→ Face Claim: Avan JogiaImages or Symbols: A mountain lion would be coolAny Text/Quote/Lyric You Would Like: perfectly misalignedColors: Darker colors, I'm not that picky tbhTheme: Thoughtful?Specific Requests: not really, besides to please use pics of him without facial hair - he's not in his beard phase yet 
30
Don't look at her. Just move. Don't look don't look don't look--
"Hey! Are you here to practice? Would you mind--"
Don't--
"... You'll be the chaser and I'll be the keeper?"
Wyatt tripped over his broom and nearly fell. Quickly, he righted himself before anyone--not even the Gods--could notice. Because he was cool as a cucumber. Cool, cool, cool. She was just talking to him, a goddess incarnated onto earth talking to a mortal, welcoming him into her ethereal presence with a broad wave; him, a mere mortal, undeserving--
Stay cool, McCormick.
"... Erm, umm--sure--I mean, yeah! Yes! I can, umm, do that!"
Nailed it.
What had she even asked him?
Oh, right, playing chaser and keeper. Strange that Wyatt had played with Lorelei over the term, yet had never even remotely realized how pretty she was up close. A disappointing lapse in attention, present Wyatt chided past Wyatt as he jogged over to where Lorelei stood. More fool him.
Wyatt reoriented his hold on his brrom with an awkward pass--all elbows and twisty fingers--and straddled his own broom. "They've got a million quaffles here luckily," Wyatt babbled, not realizing that instead of kicking off into a float, he duck waddled over with the broom between his legs to the pile of Quidditch supplies left out. He bent, bonked the broom handle against a chest, moved it aside, and scooped up two quaffles and tucked another under his arm.
"These good?" Odd question to ask when he was gripping his broom with the sheer muscles in his thighs and holding too many quaffles to be useful. "Want to, umm, get up there?"
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