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Stuart Twombly

[ abandoned ]

0 · 505 views · located in Magdalena Academy

a character in “Modern Magic and Martinets”, originally authored by ibecameinsane, as played by RolePlayGateway

Description




๏ผณ๏ฝ๏ฝ๏ฝ… ๏ฝ๏ฝ…๏ฝ๏ฝ๏ฝŒ๏ฝ… ๏ฝŽ๏ฝ…๏ฝ–๏ฝ…๏ฝ’ ๏ฝ‡๏ฝ ๏ฝƒ๏ฝ’๏ฝ๏ฝš๏ฝ™.
๏ผท๏ฝˆ๏ฝ๏ฝ” ๏ฝ”๏ฝ’๏ฝ•๏ฝŒ๏ฝ™ ๏ฝˆ๏ฝ๏ฝ’๏ฝ’๏ฝ‰๏ฝ‚๏ฝŒ๏ฝ… ๏ฝŒ๏ฝ‰๏ฝ–๏ฝ…๏ฝ“ ๏ฝ”๏ฝˆ๏ฝ…๏ฝ™ ๏ฝ๏ฝ•๏ฝ“๏ฝ” ๏ฝŒ๏ฝ…๏ฝ๏ฝ„.



โ–ˆโ–ฎโ–Œ
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๏ผฃ๏ฝˆ๏ฝ๏ฝ’๏ฝ๏ฝƒ๏ฝ”๏ฝ…๏ฝ’ ๏ผค๏ฝ‰๏ฝ๏ฝŒ๏ฝ๏ฝ‡๏ฝ•๏ฝ…:X#617D5E
๏ผฃ๏ฝˆ๏ฝ๏ฝ’๏ฝ๏ฝƒ๏ฝ”๏ฝ…๏ฝ’ ๏ผด๏ฝˆ๏ฝ๏ฝ•๏ฝ‡๏ฝˆ๏ฝ”:X#7A5E7D

๏ผฆ๏ฝ๏ฝƒ๏ฝ…๏ผฃ๏ฝŒ๏ฝ๏ฝ‰๏ฝ:XDylan O'Brien
๏ผฐ๏ฝ๏ฝ’๏ฝ”๏ฝ’๏ฝ๏ฝ™๏ฝ…๏ฝ„ ๏ผข๏ฝ™:Xibecameinsane

______________________________________________________ โค ______________________________________________________

๏ผฃ๏ฝ๏ฝ๏ฝ™๏ฝ’๏ฝ‰๏ฝ‡๏ฝˆ๏ฝ” ๏ผท๏ฝ๏ฝ’๏ฝŽ๏ฝ‰๏ฝŽ๏ฝ‡___________________________________
Distribution or replication of any content on this page will be reported
I've had my characters sheets plagiarized before.

      Base Character Sheet Format ยฉ Aurei


๏ผค๏ฝ‰๏ฝ“๏ฝƒ๏ฝŒ๏ฝ๏ฝ‰๏ฝ๏ฝ…๏ฝ’_________________________________________________
Despite the similarities in the first & last name of the character to that of Dylan O'Brien's role in The Internship,
you'll find that there are very few other correlations to the character in regards to personality and background.



So begins...

Stuart Twombly's Story

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Emery Wyrwyk Character Portrait: Robyn Adams Character Portrait: Eithene N. Carmody Character Portrait: Vulpecula Ligeia Character Portrait: Gideon Blackwood Character Portrait: Anton Dietrich Character Portrait: Keira Lance Character Portrait: Stuart Twombly Character Portrait: Anita Kapoor Character Portrait: Kim Jae-Sun Character Portrait: Zara Schwartz Character Portrait: Amelia Morrow Character Portrait: Arthur William Graymund Character Portrait: Dmitry Krutikov Character Portrait: Matteo Lanzo Character Portrait: Hana Cheon Character Portrait: Valentina Herrera Character Portrait: Viktor Ivchenko Character Portrait: Draven Taunton
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#, as written by Castle
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On the morning of September the first, all students arrive at Magdalena early and eagerly, just in time for breakfast. Theyโ€™d all greet those they hadnโ€™t yet had the chance to see and from there breakfast commence. Whether or not the lot of students got any rest usually depended on their compatibility with trains, which was inevitably unlikely. All students boarded at different times and different places, but they all arrived at 8am on the dot.

ImageProfessor Hawthorne announced the arrival of the first years as the rest of the diverse school sat munching, to which they sorting ceremony began. Magdalena had itโ€™s own special way of sorting students into their houses. Though it seemed rather average or rudimentary, there was an enchanted basin placed at the end of the long line of first years. From there, they would draw their house, and go to join their tables pridefully.

Each table was dressed neatly in itโ€™s house color named boldly with a banner lined in gold and silver, a glowing mist emanating around all the dishes and plates that floated and rotated so that everyone could get a bite. Not only did the tablecloth glow as brightly as the plates did, but it would almost play with the children. Pleasing them with thoughtful images of animals that best described their actions or their houses, and blasting the occasional first year in the face with what looked like an abundance of glitter.

Once the frayed nerves of the newbies died down, the students would surely be reintroduced to their new home know as Magdalena Academy of Magical Education.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Stuart Twombly
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โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€
โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘ ๏ผณ๏ฝ”๏ฝ•๏ฝ๏ฝ’๏ฝ” โ–‘โ–‘
โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€

    feeling: bored; insouciant
    currently at: Magdalena Academy; Germany
    date: September 1st
โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€

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โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€
    For not the first time in his life, Stuart bitterly wondered why they couldn't just have a wizarding school in the United States. Did attending school in Germany have its perks? Sure. He had the ability to meet new people, explore entire new customs, and hear teachers coo over his supposed accent. All that goes out the window when he's stuck traveling for almost an entire day just to get there. However, this year was different. Instead of taking a locomotive to John F Kennedy International by himself just to get on a plane for nine hours by his lonesome, his mother and grandmother decided to join him. Not on the plane obviously, but on the thirteen hour train ride to the airport. Despite his overall attitude towards the idea initially, Stuart found he actually liked the company. His first year had him accompanied by his paternal grandparents. Though they we nice for casual conversation and answering question about the school, Stuart had still requested to make the trip alone by his third year. Since then that's how it was, which is why his mother's sudden desire to sit on a train for half a day perplexed him so. With Clementine in his lap, he sat between his mother and his grandmother, growing more butt sore by the minute. His grandmother's stories kept him entertained for the most part, proving to be less lonely than a laptop and his cat. Sharing a cab to JFK, the farewell became more tearful on his mother's part. As he hugged his other to comfort her, he spared a look over her shoulder to Grandma Betty who just shrugged in response. But Stuart wasn't going to ask, so of course his grandmother was going to make a scene.

    "Why the waterworks, Claudia? You know the boy's coming back."

    "Yes mother, I know." she snapped, "That doesn't mean I don't miss him while he's away. This is his second to last year at Magdalena, don't I have a reason to be upset that my baby's growing up?"

    "Oh is that what this is all about?" Grandma Betty scoffs, waving a hand in dismissal at her daughter's distress, "A bunch of 'leaving the nest' nonsense. If you want a baby, ask your husband. Pumpkin-head hasn't been a kid since he was five."

    "Meemaw, please don't call me that in public." Stuart interjected, only to be completely disregarded as the women carried on their conversation.

    He received a pitying look from the security guard before his messenger bag was taken from him. Phantom paws jarred his shoulder as the charmed Clementine made herself comfortable around the back of his neck. Invisibility was an incantation he learned quite early on and, until quite recently, his grandfather would do it for him or he'd give Clementine a treat laced with a special kind of potion his grandmother brewed. Thankfully, Grandma Betty got out all her shock and awe in the cab. If she went around talking about an invisible cat on her grandson's shoulder then getting out of here was going to be a nightmare. After being patted down and having to remain unaffected by Clementine's jostling as she dodged the guard's hands, Stuart was waved through and given back his messenger back. His feline immediately took her seat atop of it and he led his bickering family to the hangar.

    Leaving them each with a hug and kiss goodbye before boarding the plane, Stuart took his set by the window and smirked as he felt his familiar climb his lap to look out the window. Most of the plane ride was spent sleeping, catching up on all of the hours he missed thanks to his grandmother's never-ending plethora of life stories. Once he got to Germany, he greeted the bubbly flight attendants in their native tongue and explored the airport for his next mode of transportation. Because his grandfather was in the Ministry, he'd gotten in well with people of the right crowd, some of whom settled overseas. This particular family friend was named Antoine Krushnic and since his first year at Magdalena he's been flying Stuart to the school on his personal plane. They spoke to one another like old friends, smiling in each other's presence and sharing a short-lived embrace.

    An hour later and an hour early, Stuart arrives at the school. Clementine's enchantment had worn off during the short flight over and now trotted alongside him as he made his way to the prefect's bedroom with his bags levitating behind him in their wake. That was the perk of being a prefect. Not only did you have free reign over the school after hours but youโ€”like the head boy and girlโ€”got your own bedroom. The Stark dormitories, much to Stuart's initial dismay, were adjacent to the dungeons. Though seemingly unappealing at first, you became accustomed to the cold temperatures after a while. While Stuart made himself at home, Clementine made it her own space, lounging on the bed without preamble. She wouldn't budge when Stuart adorned his robes for the first and only time of the school year but she did lift her head to meet his lips as he gave her a kiss goodbye. Leaving his beanie with her, Stuart pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and adjusted the prefect badge on his robes whilst he made his way to the mess hall.

    He'd be in awe of the place if he hadn't seen it so many times before. For years now his initial awe when stepping in the hall during orientation was replaced with nostalgia. He remembers walking through these doors for the first time and seeing this place in all of its grandeur, how it captivated him. Now, much like most of everything, it bored him. Sitting at the Stark table adorned in crimson, he planted himself at the farthest corner of the table with seats open on either side of him. He wouldn't regard his other housemates, he never did, but they knew he was there. Instead his focus remained on his lap as he pulled his phone out of the depths of his robes. Sending a quick text to his parents just to let them know he'd made it alright was just another routine.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Stuart Twombly Character Portrait: Hana Cheon
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ํ•˜
๋‚˜

xโ–ฌ
์ƒ
ํฌ

xโ–ฌ
้Œข
โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€
โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘ ๏ผจ๏ฝ๏ฝŽ๏ฝ โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘
โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€

    feeling: anxious; excited
    currently at: Magdalena Academy; Germany
    date: September 1st
โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€

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โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€

    When she left, she left without saying goodbye and no one but her brother noticed. He watched her approach the port key without hesitation, a smile lighting up her face in a way he's never seen before. Cherry blossoms grown from enchanted soil detach as a result of the heavy breeze, dancing around her as she stands adorned in a black robe. Rolling up her sleeves, she bends at the knees, crouching in front of a coy pond. Therein lies a medallion piece, something passed down from generation to generation. It glitters gold, reflecting in the afternoon light. In a flash she disappears and he doesn't shed a tear, more transfixed by the extraordinary display of magic that had just transpired before him. Hana cannot blame him for not crying, not when she's put forth so much of an effort to stay away. This brings a familiar guilt she's tried again and again to bury deep and it's forgotten the moment she appears in Germany seconds later but hours earlier, just a short walk away from Magdalena Academy. She greets everyone she sees along the way with a smile, waving at them in enthusiastic excitement for the new school year to come. It happens on every first of September and has since she was eleven. This wasn't just about getting an education; for Hana this was coming home. Armed with her luggage and carry on, she hands them over to the caretaker as she walks through the front door.
    The Great Hall is bustling with conversation, gilded and glistening with the fantastic display of magic. Every table was adorned in its own color and she sat at the one capturing a pale violet hue. Hart House, she'd been deemed six years ago and since they have been like a second family to her. She sits among them, chatting with old friends as she would often do, asking them about their summers as they all patiently awaited for the sorting to commence. One by one the first years approached the basin, drawing their house of the enchanted device. After the ceremony is complete, the celebration begins and trays upon trays of food levitate from table to table for the students to sample and indulge. Hana isn't hungry, she rarely is on the first day. Because eight in the morning in Germany is roughly two in the afternoon for her, she's already eaten. While her housemates eat, her eyes drift from the Hart table to Stark House where her friend of five years sits with his attention in his lap.

    It's a familiar sight seeing a screen of blue reflected against the glass of her friend's glasses, one so nostalgic that it has her up and out of her seat. Dodging plates and platters as she weaves between tables, Hana plops herself in the empty spot beside Stuart Twombly, immediately wrapping her arms around his shoulders and tucking her face in his shoulder. He huffs in surprise, adjusting to the sudden assault for only a moment before his tensed muscles uncoil as he recognizes her. Slipping an arm around her waist, he chuckles, leaving a fond kiss on the top of her head before Hana lifts her head. She can see her grin splitting her face in two in the reflection of his glasses. "Hello Stuart," she greets him, her voice thick with her native accent despite speaking fluent English. She's fortunate to have a friend like him that can understand her easily.

    "Good afternoon, Hana." he replies, grinning with self-pride as he takes into consideration what time it actually is for the Korean witch. "You seem as effervescent as ever. Miss me?"

    "Of course I missed you, nae sarang!" Hana grins, seeing the spark of recognition in his eyes when she uses the term of endearment. She uses 'my love' loosely, of course, and he knows it.

    He only reaffirms her assumption when he says, "Neon nae geoya."

    To which she immediately retorts, "Nan ne geoya."

    You're mine. I'm yours. Two phrases spoken between friends who've seen the best and the worst of one another. They're the only terms of endearment Hana has managed to teach the American boy but they're enough to express the sentiment they have towards one another. It's not romantic and it doesn't have to be, but it isn't quite a kinship either. They choose not to dwell on that. Instead the bask in each other's company. Having been apart for a little over three months, it isn't a surprise when they don't withdraw from their embrace. Anyone could look at them and assume that they're an item. In fact, Hana doesn't doubt that many of her House already think that wayโ€”Stuart's family certainly did. She'll concede that having a friend (who just so happens to be a girl) over for the holidays after only knowing her a year does seem suspicious, but the Twombly family came to understand her reasoning behind it. That didn't necessarily mean they stopped teasing them of course.

    "Are you talking to appa?" she asks, leaning her cheek against her shoulder as she turns to the phone in his lap. She addresses Stuart's family as if they were her own, hence 'appa' for father, and it still catches her by surprise that Stuart doesn't seem to mind it at all.

    "And mother," Stuart responds nonchalantly, turning his attention to his phone as he begins 'texting' (according to Stuart.) "She seems to be going through one of those phases where she realized that her one and only child will be leaving the nest relatively soon. I'm making sure she's doing alright."

    "Where's Clementine?"

    "Upstairs taking a nap."

    Hana giggles fondly, "Of course."

    "They can't wait to see you, by the way." Stuart says, "Meemaw, Nana, Pop Pop, Dad, Mom-..."

    And this leaves Hana absolutely beside herself with happiness, "Really? I can't wait to see them too. I missed them so much over the summer." As she does every summer. Hana still hasn't gotten accustomed to their hospitality and how easily they accepted her into their family, treated her like one of their own kin. She felt more loved by Mrs. Twombly than she did by the woman who gave birth to her. Though it saddens her at times, she's thankful to have someone at least.

    Stuart smirks, "Well you were all they talked about."

    "Are they still talking about courting?"

    "I wish." he says, huffing a chuckle, "Nana was practically planning out the wedding. I've never seen her and Meemaw get along so well for such a long period of time."

    Hana can only picture it and the image her imagination provides is enough to coax a genuine laugh out of the girl. For the remainder of the meal they pick up where they left off, sitting side by side with nary a space between them. For first time in months, Hana felt like she had a presenceโ€”that she wasn't just something to be ignored. She laughed so hard and so much that her sides ached with the exertion. Her cheeks stung with how much she smiled. Her alabaster skin was flush with color from the deprivation of air. She felt happy for the first time since summer began. She felt like she belonged.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Emery Wyrwyk Character Portrait: Stuart Twombly
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#, as written by Castle
Image


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Mood; Slightly depressed; Excited
September 1st



Image

Emery felt the touch on his shoulder and out if instinct he relaxed. He was all for telling Vulpecula about every little detail of his summer, but the negative thoughts from moments ago had captured him and the conversation felt ruined. Giving a short synopsis, Emery found himself pretending to spot someone, fixing his eyes on more of an acquaintance than a friend. Stuart Twombly. The new prefect for Stark house. They were the same grade, Emery believed, but Stuart must've been older. He looked older, then again, Emery had a twisted version of "older".

Emery fell a good three inches below the cut of the average male height back in Poland. It surely was a psychological way of thinking, but everyone who stood above his 5'7 inches of bubbly personality and balance issues just felt older.

"Excuse me," he began politely, "it was nice talking with you, Vulpecula." Emery always seemed to call her by her full name in person, but the way he said it today sounded shameful. He fled rather shortly, giving her the best smile he could before beginning his attempt to try to go and meet someone he'd hardly ever spoken with before. It wasn't as though he was particularly allowed to jump tables like this, but the fact is as the fact does, he didn't care.

Leaving the Eden table behind with the thick smell of flowers, Emery felt sick. It was obviously rude for him to leave so abruptly, but he could feel what Vulpecula didn't want to tell him. There was a greater reason to her dismissal. Second guessing and regret came next, he should just go back to where she was...but it was too late, he had already arrived at the Stark table, dropping himself right down beside Stuart. Not really looking at him at first, only glances here and there - damn it, what was he going to do? Great. His mind went blank. Any sense of a plan was gone, and now he was stuck trying to think up an introduction with - not in total - but an essentially complete stranger. At first Emery was at a loss for what to say, so he kept his mouth shut, but now he could only imagine all the questions he was creating with the more the moment passed.

One more pause, and a mechanical shift in the direction of the prefect and finally he was spouting words like a faucet. "Hello, I'm Emery..! Eden house. I just saw you from over dere and now I am here, and I really not sure now what I'm doing here to be quite honest." Emery began blurting, well placed chuckles spread out down the line of rubbish in his explanation. Maybe even blushing - Gรณwno. It had dawned on him that, Stuart had been in a conversation beforehand and the Polish boy had disrupted that. His ears went pink and he cleared his throat. "Sorry to bot'er you," another chuckled, "I should go." Yes, he should go, but he wasn't moving and it didn't look like he was going to.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Emery Wyrwyk Character Portrait: Stuart Twombly Character Portrait: Hana Cheon
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โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€
โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘โ–‘ ๏ผณ๏ฝ”๏ฝ•๏ฝ๏ฝ’๏ฝ” โ–‘โ–‘
โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€

    feeling: insouciant
    currently at: Magdalena Academy; Great Hall
    date: September 1st
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    Though it isn't exactly frowned upon, students don't normally breach the unspoken boundaries set between house tables. Hana became an exception, someone the Stark table became accustomed to seeing at Stuart's side. Their opinions waver from indifferent to encouraging, hoping that one day they would become something more than close friends. Stuart's connections with muggle technology along with his newly appointed prefect status gave him an authority over the other students, an authority that kept any complaints at bay. Unwanted at first, the Starks who had an opinion came to see Hana's visits as a pleasantry seeing she was the only one that dared cross over into Stark territory. No one else dared. If any of them wanted to converse at mealtime it would be the Stark who left their table to greet their friend from a rival house, never the other way around. Needless to say that when the Eden boy traverses the Great Hall to sit amongst the Starks, he catches quite a few looks from everyone except his sole focus. Hana remains the apple of Stuart's eye as always, capturing his full attention as they speak to one another in companionable fondness. When Emery sits down at the opposite side of him, many other Starks give him warning looks out of courtesy. They knew their housemate to be a hard pill to swallow. He wasn't exactly the accommodating type, especially if you were to interrupt his conversation whereas Hana practically lit up at the sight of someone knew. Her attention didn't wane longer than a moment before her gaze flicked back to her friend as he spoke. That is, until he spoke up, "Hello, I'm Emery..! Eden house. I just saw you from over dere and now I am here, and I really not sure now what I'm doing here to be quite honest." Stuart stops midsentence at the interuption, slowly turning to face Emery with an incredulous stare, the content of what he said completely lost on the muggleborn.

    Stuartโ€”unlike this Emery character,, he thinks bitterlyโ€” waits until the shorter boy finishes speaking before asking in monotone, "Are you lost?"

    "Sorry to bot'er you," he says on a chuckle, "I should go."

    "You're right-..." Stuart remarks, "You should go."

    To which Hana immediately interjects, "No, you shouldn't!" Catching Stuart's eyes in a quick, nagging glare before reaching out to Emery and holding out a hand in greeting, smiling in utmost friendliness, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Emery. My name is Hana."

    At Stuart's agreement, Emery goes pale in the face. He was at the Stark table, and for some reason, this had only now struck him. It wasn't going to be pleasant. And only to add to the mistaken decision, he had just decided to sit by the most well known prefect of the Stark house. A prefect wouldn't move him by force would he? Could they do that? Emery wasn't going to risk it. Still caught in Stuart's glare, the Polish boy blinks when a girl calls to him from around the prefect. Her smile puts him at ease, and a returns it with a thrilled grin, taking her hand as if Stuart wasn't even there, and honestly, Emery had probably forgot he was.

    "Hana is a nice name," he says, practically beaming with positivity. The girl couldn't have been from Stark and by her welcoming personality Emery could definitely tell she wasn't. He glanced back up at Stuart, returning his hand to his lap. It was hard to tell what the guy was thinking. Hana must've had a leash on him, or something, because Emery still had his head on his shoulders and he wasn't back at the Eden table as soon as he had thought.

    Five minutes with Stuart and it's obvious how much distain he holds for socializing with other people. Regardless of the exceptions, he just wasn't a meet and greet kind of guy, and it showed in the look of utter resentment he had pointing Emery's way. If there was anything he hated more than talking to people or being interupted, it was being ignored. Hana knew this and did her best to quell his frustration by lacing her fingers with his. It worked. It always works. Almost immediately, Stuart deflates, accepting the interaction with passive aggressive tolerance. He doesn't say a word as the two speak to one another, holding slight resentment to the soft spot he holds for the Korean girl. He can express his intolerance for anyone at any time of day but the moment she's around he's as pliable as a kitten. It would irritate him if he didn't genuinely enjoy the girl's company so he doesn't retaliate. He just watches, intrigued by the way Hana talks to the near stranger with sheer ease.

    "Why thank you," Hana replies, her smile broadening in the wake of Emery's own, "I've never meant someone with your name before. It's quite unqiue and it suits you well. What brings you over here?"

    Emery's shoulders drop. "Thank you, I'm trying something new," he replies, nodding gently to shake off his lie. Emery wasn't much of a liar, but it only took the case of a friend and he'd do his best avoid what he had to. Of course, in all of his effort, it never lasted long. One way or the other, a few more questions and he'd probably tell you the color of his underwear on impulse. Better yet, he might even tell you the last embarrassing thing so-and-so did today.

    "Well, I mean, I don't really have a reason. I'm impulsive like dat, right, impulsive is a word, right?" Again the words started flowing and he could just feel the irritation Stuart must have been building up, because every time he glanced at the prefect he had the oddest feeling telling him if something went out of order, Emery would probably be the first person to get shoved out of his seat. But he comforted himself with the idea that he was just exaggerating the problem in his head and Stuart wasn't as mean as he looked right now and Vulpecula wasn't hiding anything, whatsoever. Then why was he here? His grin still held.

    Stuart couldn't help but wonder the same thing. As Emery sputters through his explanation, the muggleborn can't help but notice that he gave no real reason for coming here in particular. There was something about the way he moved that just screamed deception; maybe he wasn't lying, but he was definitely witholding information. Out of his peripheral he can see Hana open her mouth to speak, jumping into the conversation with an emotionlessness in his voice that could easily be construed as rude. "What are you doing here? Really-..."

    Hana, the poor misguided girl, looks absolutely appalled. "Stuart! That's so rude!"

    "It's a legitamate question." he remarks, squeezing Hana's hand in apology before barreling on, "You must've had a reason for sitting here in particular-...or even moving away from your table. So what is it?"

    Emery swallowed past the lump building in his throat. It wasn't like his reason was that big of a deal, and it certainly wasn't worth bringing up, so he just shrugged like he wasn't even sure. At least with his newly founded confusion, he just seemed like an idiot rather than the manipulative asshole he started looking like earlier. The topic just started feeling like a joke Emery wasn't in on, and he was just wishing he knew what to say.

    What else could he say that could convey how much he didn't have a reason. He was trying too hard. "Ehhh, am I leaving something out?" Emery held fast to his confusion, complimenting it with a more sheepish smile. He allowed himself to believe Stuart would eventually just drop the subject completely or ignore him altogether. Unfortunately Stuart didn't seem like the type. His gaze flitted between Hana and the prefect.

    Hana sees the almost pleading look in Emery's eyes, a silent beg for a distraction. He didn't seem the unintelligent type and had obviously pegged Stuart for the stubborn kind. Whatever reason Emery had for coming over, he obviously didn't feel compelled to disclose it, so Hana took the initiative to distract her friend and give Emery an out. With a short tug on his hand, she captures Stuart's attention, derailing him with a pout. "Do play nice, Stuart, he could be a friend." she says, her voice thick with her Korean accent.

    "I don't need any more friends." Stuart retorts, only to receive a soured looked from his companion.

    "Everyone needs more friends," she replies, looking to Emery with a smile, "Right Emery?"

    Emery nodded enthusiastically, but he was still put off by the negativity Stuart so evenly felt. There was no use in retreat, though, he'd sit there and bare it. He took a muffin from one of the floating dishes, forced to exchange glances with another Stark boy who didn't look too pleased to see him either. Emery exhaled before taking a bite of the muffin.

    "It is not like I'd come across as such a great person if I told you I was avoiding a friend, would I?" He had given in and told the truth. Maybe that would satisfy Stuart enough to stop looking at him like he was criminal or whatever twisted version of Emery he had wound up in his head.

    With Emery's true intentions revealed, Stuart's gaze softens from harsh suspicion to utter insouciance. Now that Stuart knew his reason for being there, he wouldn't dwell too much on it but it didn't mean he was going to cater to cowardice. He averts his gaze to the phone in his lap and continues to text his parents while Hana takes the reins, "It's alright, Emery. I don't think any less of you."

    Emery laughs awkwardly, shoving part of the muffin in his face to stop himself from overstepping any boundries. "Thanks," he says despite his pastry stuffed mouth. From then on out he hadn't much of a plan, he hadn't even risked taking a glance back at the Eden table.

    Finishing off his muffin, he finally turned back to Hana. "Where are you from?" Emery wasn't exactly an expert at telling who came from where and all of those symantics. For all he knew, the girl could have totally been from Ireland or South Africa and it would have made perfect sense to him, because he just never thought about it that way.

    "South Korea-..." she replies effortlessly, "...-and you? I notice you have a bit of an accent yourself."

    "Poland," he grins, "a-and you're from America I presume?" Emery asks slowly, directing his attention more towards Stuart.

    Stuart, who had only been half listening, makes an uncongenial noise at Emery's inquiry. He pays more attention instead to his phone, his thumbs moving in quick sucession across the screen as it reflects in his glasses. Hana glares at him for his rudeness, turning to Emery with apologetic eyes, "Please don't mind him, he-..." She's become accustomed to making excuses for Stuart and his behavior, but never in front of him. Though she never says anything mean, she can't help but be hindered by guilt having him right there. "...-he's a little antisocial. He'll come around though-..." Stuart lifts his gaze, giving her a look that just begs to differ, and it coaxes a sigh out of the girl, "But yes, he's from America, the southern part of the country. It's something we have in common." For the sake of making conversation, she counters with a question of her own, "Are you excited for this year?"

    "Oh yes," he nods, "I find dat I start to miss it during the break." Emery returns the question, still peering carefully around the prefect. "You're from Vorne - aren't you? Or is it Hart?"

    "Hart," Hana nods, smiling with obvious house pride, "And you're from Eden. What's it like being in that house? I've always been curious about the other houses. The Starks are all very accomodating once you get to know them." She sends a smile their way and receives a couple from the students at the table before turning her attention to Emery.

    "At least I can say dat everyone's friendly," Amiability was pretty much the whole shtick of the Eden house. If you were friendly, you were in it. There was nothing completely special about it and Emery found it to be disappointing. Vornes are intelligent, Starks are quick and competitive, even Harts were pretty stable and well minded people - but a whole house dedicated to friendliness, it just sounded uninteresting.

    Emery eyed the device Stuart held in his hand. He had heard of cell phones, and he knew how they worked in theory, but looking at it up close, it was just so alien to him. "What about Hart?"

    Hana catches Emery's shift in gaze, watching it fall to the cellphone in Stuart's hand. An idea pops into her head but it's thwarted with an inquiry, not that she doesn't answer it with kindness, "We're an amiable bunch, I suppose." she remarks, "We balance each other out more than anything." When she's sure Stuart's attention is entirely on the device, she points to it, making sure to catch Emery's attention, mouthing out the words, "Ask. Him. About. It"

    Stuart catches the movement and lifts his gaze, looking at her with a cocked brow and a slight suspicion in his whisky colored eyes. She simply grins, feigning innocence, waiting for Emery to catch the hint. If she knew anything about Stuart it was that he loved teaching and introducing wizards to muggle things. If Emery had any intention of getting to know Stuart better then the best place to start would be asking him about his phone.

    Following Hana's gestures, Emery smiles. Good idea. "Hey, uh, Stuart? Is dat a phone?" Now if muggle technology was allowed in Magdalena - well sure some of it could have been - but a phone? Well, he wasn't sure. I've never seen one before." Emery pointed to the little block of a cell.

    As Emery beckons his attention, Stuart shifts his gaze from the young wizard to the phone in his hand. Hana was right, it caught his attention. It's as if a switch had been hit. As soon as Emery expresses interest in the phone, Stuart becomes more open, turning to him slightly as he engages in the conversation, "Yeah, it's a Nokia Lumia 920 Windows." he says, "It's a lot easier to use than most and it's loaded with a lot of features that makes Apple look like a kid's toy." Just like that, he's walking a pureblood how to work a cell phone. It keeps him engaged for the majority of the meal, showing a patience to Emery he wouldn't have shown otherwise. It's delightful for Hana to see and she listens in anyway, completely engaged by her companion's passion.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Emery Wyrwyk Character Portrait: Robyn Adams Character Portrait: Vulpecula Ligeia Character Portrait: Stuart Twombly Character Portrait: Hana Cheon
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#, as written by Vix






{in collaboration with ibecameinsane, featuring Professor Jermaine Morton}





The young Ligeia could only watch wordlessly as Emery excused himself and headed for Stark table. This brought her a pang of guilt, knowing that after six years of being such close friends he could tell when she was holding out information. It made it all the more worse that, of all the places he could have retreated to, he retreated to Stark. There was a hint of a frown forming on her lips as she watched him launch into conversation with Hana and Stuart, two familiar faces. She wouldn't torture herself more than she already was, gathering her things and leaving as quietly as she had came, casting the sketching Robyn a glance before moseying along. It was the first time in a while that she had been speechless. She had absentmindedly come to depend on Emery being the one person within her age range who would listen to her and generally stick by her side. But now he'd rather jump to the wolves than engage in polite conversation with her?

She was probably over thinking the entire situation, something that she did often - especially as of late. She pushed out the thoughts and instead focused on working out Arithmancy in her head while she walked with no particular destination in mind. Eudoxia and Leotychides padded along behind her, pouncing at her heels every few steps as they clicked against the pavement. She kept her head down as her vision went blurry from staring at the ground for so long, her blinks spaced apart far longer than usual. Luckily, it seemed everyone else was paying more attention than she was and did well to avoid her. It was sheer luck that she had begun walking again after a short pause, lest she have gotten hit by a rogue quaffle that had escaped the grip of a Chaser who seemed to be practicing, having apparently lost his touch over the summer. Regardless, she marched on.

It wasn't until after a short walk down a hill that she was pulled from her thoughts. She lifted her gaze to see a proud and large Hippogriff resting peacefully while some stray students sketched from afar. Smiling, Vix approached the Hippogriff preening its russet feathers with a gentle coo in her voice, a tone she often took with beasts but never people. โ€œRostbraun. I hope you've missed me.โ€ She let her bag strap slide from her shoulder as she held out a hand, only a few feet away now. She was glared at by sharp golden eyes before the creature stood and turned around, giving a light screech. โ€œDon't be like that! I didn't mean to abandon you. I just had very important business to take care of. I'd have taken you with me, but I'd have gotten arrested. Is that what you want? You want me in prison?โ€

She carried on casual conversation with him far better than she did with most people, a light pout in her voice as she was given the cold shoulder. However, there was a light smirk as she went to her bag, shooing away her felines as they pawed at it. With a merry hum, she fetched out another brown bag. The cats immediately assumed that it was more squirrel meat for them and meowed happily. However, she pulled out a dead ferret and nudged the creature's haunches. โ€œC'mon. You know you can't stay mad at me.โ€ She cooed some more, smiling as he slowly turned around. He snatched the dead meal from her quickly, wolfing it down. He pressed his massive head against her chest, a strange gurgling-like coo rumbling in his chest as she petted him affectionately. Out of all their creatures, he was her favorite one. She could still remember her first class with him six or so years ago. She had come down to groom him whenever she could nearly every day after and often snuck out at night to bring him treats.

From inside the hut, a curly-haired man watches as the student coddles the giant creature. Much like any day, he goes unnoticed in the company of the beasts in his care. This proves true even now, even by one of his favorite students; he ends up at the young witch's side before he's even noticed. "Here so early, Miss Ligeia?" he inquires, a voice rich with an Eygptian accent, "Don't you have an introduction brunch you should be attending?"

Vulpecula had been nuzzling Rostbraun, stroking his silky feathers, when she heard a familiar voice behind her. She turned with a smile, headbutted in the back by an attention deprived creature that whined, as she laughed for the first time in ages. She slung an arm around her feathered friend and shrugged her shoulders in her usual nonchalant way. โ€œIt's never too early to be up spending time with these magnificent beasts.โ€ Rostbraun replied with an almost smug expression, arrogantly holding his head a little higher. โ€œJerm -- Professor Morton -- we both know that I don't always do what I should. I probably should be there. I probably should be in correct uniform. I probably should have not ditched last year. But, that's me. I'm a rebel. Rules schmules.โ€

Out of respect for one of her handful of favored professors, she refrained from using a first name basis with him. However, she couldn't help the almost sarcastic tone with him. She didn't mind hiding things from her friends but when it came to her professors, who were pretty much her first friends at Magdalena until Emery came along, it was a bit more difficult. She literally bit her tongue and gave a quirky smile before switching subjects. โ€œHow was your summer? Good, I hope.โ€ She forced a more enthusiastic tone as she lowered to sitting on the ground with Rostbraun, leaning against him while he playfully snapped at the cats pawing at his feathers.

Jermaine Morton cocks a brow, sparing a glance with his Hippogriff. He and Rostbraun look at each other the way old friends do and when the beast gives a shake to its mighty head, it elicits a hearty chuckle out of the professor. "Well I'll pretend I never saw you-...again..."

Vix snorted softly as she spoke bravely. โ€œHawthorne can't force me to eat. And I've already went through this. Last year. My presence there is superfluous and my time is better spent here. Helping poor, Vix-deprived creatures like Rostbraun here, reconnect. With me. It's for the greater good, really.โ€ She placed her head against Rost's and gave a feigned look of wide-eyed innocence before grinning. โ€œSeriously - What happened while I was gone? First Emery, now you, with avoiding any attempt at full conversation. Does Hawthorne have a hit out on me? Are you guys trying to avoid Dementors he's sent out to hunt me down and drag me away for interrogation?โ€ She continued using her joking tone but wondered why it did seem like people were avoiding her more than usual. Perhaps, again, she was being paranoid for no reason. Though, she did give a worried look like the Headmaster or Deputy Headmistress might have actually sent something or someone after her.

"I do not know what happened between you and this Emery boy but I was making jest. Yes? I am delighted to see you as always, Vulpecula, as is Rostbraun." Reaching out to pet the beast between the eyes with hearts in his own. His captivation for the creatures he cares for is something to be admired. Some say the kinship he feels with them is what got him the job, considering his blood status, not that he didn't get along with the students. Sparing a look at the young witch, he cocks a curious brow, "What troubles you, little one? You seem more-...antsy that usual.""

Great. She was being paranoid. She pinched the bridge of her nose, now saddened that she hadn't grabbed her muffin and apple in her most depressingly undramatic exit. She was unlike her family in that she could actually be upset without being a diva. Her family's way of mourning and tantrums were quite over the top. She was a little less subtle, but it seemed she wasn't subtle enough. โ€œI don't want to talk about it... And I am not usually antsy.โ€ She mentioned the last bit in the tone that a child might use when being called adorable for the millionth time that day. However, she could feel his gaze. That gaze she hated in him, in all of her professors. That kind and patient gaze, like their eyes could see that their students were in pain. Except Professor Hardwick. He was an asshole. It was this gaze that had her bawling as a child to her professors that the other kids were being mean to her.

She recalled being teased during her first class with Professor Morton by a few kids in Stark who called her a Blood Traitor for defending him. Squib or not, nobody could deny the connection she had with his wards and she admired that. It was what captivated her in class besides the animals. She admired that despite his lack of magical ability, he still seemed to have some form of unseen magic that so many Magizoologists possessed. It was always a wonder to her. She remembered many times carrying her meals and marching down to his shack, her arms full with food and books and two cats and a bag while the socially inept eleven year old attempted to make her first friend at school.

He was her first friend from Magdalena and she wasn't going to outright lie to him. She tore her gaze from his and looked down, mumbling incoherently under her breath. Not even Rostbraun understood her, nudging her, encouraging her to speak up. โ€œMy mother is dead.โ€ And it felt so weird to say it to someone else. As if it made the truth all the more true, making the pain so much worse. She pulled her knees to her chest and refused to cry, hiding her face as her cats rubbed against her. Rostbraun rubbed his head against her too, though it caused her body to rock because he was so large. It didn't do much to make the pain any less but she appreciated the attempted comfort.

His smile falls at the mention of her grief and for a moment his heart aches for her. Watching the effervescent child he's come to know look so downtrodden elicits a kind of empathy he only usually holds for his creatures. He watches patiently as the animals do their own comforting before squatting down in front of the young witch. Placing a heavy hand on her shoulder, he keeps his voice low and says, "You have my condolensces, child." Jermaine turns to sit beside her, shooing the cats out of the way before he begins rubbing circles between her shoulder blades, "I know nothing I say could possibly make the pain go away and I won't try to understand what you're going through. We all grieve in different ways." he offers a smile, dragging her gaze up to meet his own, "Just know we're here if you ever need to get away for a while."

Eudoxia and Leotychides give haughty glares before clambering atop Rostbraun, curling up against his feathers. Vix sniffles a bit as she's gently brought to look her instructor in the eyes. She knows his words are true, as he and Magdalena's creatures have always been there for her. Still, she doesn't know how to handle death. Her great grandparents, both her grandmothers, and her father's father were all dead before she was even born. Even her maternal grandfather still lived. She had never been to a funeral before in her life and nobody had told her what procedure there was to handle such an occasion. She tried to distract herself and it didn't work. She tried to be happy but she didn't see how she could, not truly, knowing that her mother was gone forever. She certainly didn't want to talk about it.

She feared that the more she talked about it, the more people who knew, the more she would be forced to face it. Those faces of pity, the people walking on eggshells as if anything they said or did would be a trigger to upset her, the constant condolences. The funeral had been unbearable and she informed her father that she was returning to school immediately, even before Agatha was buried. She would not watch them put her mother in the ground. And she did go back. For a day or so before sneaking out. She visited her brothers and attempted to immerse herself into their lives, studying them and spending time. After a while they started bugging her too much. They understood that she didn't accept what happened.

โ€œI don't know what to do. Ever since I was little... I was going to work with her when I graduated. Now she's.... She's not here. I don't... I don't have a purpose.โ€ Her accent had become thicker as her voice betrayed the tears threatening to fall from her clouded eyes.

"Now I'll here none of that," he scolds, his words veiled with adoration, "Your mother wouldn't want you talking like that.[b]" Wrapping an arm around her shoulder, Jermaine brings her in, embracing her however unfamiliar he is with the gesture, "[b]You want my opinion? Work for your mother now that she's gone. Be the force that helps her memory live on."

He was right, of course he was. She closed her eyes and sighed as she leaned against him and sniffled some more. She wanted to scream and cry and break things. She wanted to hit the next person that pissed her off. She wanted to throw a tantrum. But Agatha would not be happy with such behavior. An intellectual, yes. But, Agatha raised her daughter to be a lady when called for. But wasn't this one of those times when Vix could cut up and just let everything out? Still, she still didn't want to react.

Just like talking about it, reacting just made it more real. She would bottle it all up as much as she could. Perhaps in that way she could spend her days clinging to some belief that her mother wasn't dead. But then she might end up like poor Mrs. Gralund, talking to her dead husband. Well, talking to an empty chair. She was always talking to herself and kissing the air, asking for someone to stop and take their picture. Vix didn't want to be crazy.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Emery Wyrwyk Character Portrait: Robyn Adams Character Portrait: Eithene N. Carmody Character Portrait: Vulpecula Ligeia Character Portrait: Keira Lance Character Portrait: Stuart Twombly Character Portrait: Anita Kapoor Character Portrait: Kim Jae-Sun Character Portrait: Zara Schwartz Character Portrait: Dmitry Krutikov Character Portrait: Matteo Lanzo Character Portrait: Hana Cheon Character Portrait: Valentina Herrera Character Portrait: Viktor Ivchenko Character Portrait: Draven Taunton
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#, as written by Castle
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September 8th




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The school year had officially begun.

After the breakfast feast, orientation started for all students. First years; or as referred to by the headmaster, ersten Jahren, made things especially hectic, but they always did. Compassion was something the staff often enforced. Students of every grade had been there before, therefore it was nobodyโ€™s job to hassle them.

A week forward, students should now have had their schedules in order, and even maybe have gotten a little more sleep in the comfort of their dorms, which were located on the upper floors, comprised of balconies and bridges stringing over the view of the entrance hall. All fashioned and lit by enchanted lanterns that glowed with orange autumn light.

It had been a rainy week, some couldnโ€™t even recall seeing the sun once during the first days of school. Nonetheless, the alumni kept the homecoming festivities rolling, but it wasnโ€™t long until a gloom began to settle. It wasnโ€™t any early-winter gloom that most experienced around this time. It was hardly winter yet in Germany. Something was clearly depressing the atmosphere.

Rumors of dragon sightings began to travel. Spreading like a wildfire, every student had to have heard something by the wake of the second week. Muggles had even apparently caught sight of the supposed โ€UFOsโ€, but unfortunately the students were left in the dark.

Eventually, the ministry had sent word to Magdalena of the recent encounters, and Professor Hawthorne publicly and personally explained to staff and students what was occurring Monday morning.

โ€œ'Professor Decimus Wendell Hawthorne,'โ€ chuckles rose among the students as the Headmaster read aloud the statement from the Minister himself. With a grunt and a half smile of his own, the Professor continued extravagantly. โ€œ'And to all whom it may concern at Magdalena Academy of Magical Education.

โ€œโ€˜It is to my dismay that I inform the wizarding communities of Germany and nearby settlements about the recent sightings of Chinese dragons. Iโ€™m afraid I have no personal knowledge as to why theyโ€™ve left their country to journey as far as Europe, but we know for certain that they have become a danger to central Germany. Chinese dragons arenโ€™t known to act up as weโ€™ve seen this past week, attacking farms, and increasingly populated places.โ€™โ€ Hawthorne trailed off, dropping the letter down on the podium and tightening his jaw.

โ€œAs you all know, and it goes without saying, the school will be carrying out lockdown procedures. I understand that this isnโ€™t how any of you would like to start your Monday, but it looks as though we havenโ€™t got any choice.โ€ Hawthorne leaned heavily down upon the neatly engraved podium. It was true, he never liked laying down bad news, but it was not in his nature to sugarcoat subjects like this. โ€œThis means herbology, and other outdoor classes, will be heavily supervised, and dungeons will be utilized if those dragons come too close for comfort.โ€

The Headmaster, gazed down at the letter that sat before him, but he only nodded as if just agreeing with his decisions. โ€œSo, all that is left to say is enjoy your breakfast.โ€ His tone defaulted to that of more positivity, and he turned to take his seat, leaving the students to their own thoughts.

With that, the second week had begun, and it wasnโ€™t shaping out to be a good one.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Stuart Twombly Character Portrait: Zara Schwartz Character Portrait: Hana Cheon Character Portrait: Viktor Ivchenko Character Portrait: Draven Taunton
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IN COLLABORATION WITH IBECAMEINSANE



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๏ผถ๏ผฉ๏ผซ๏ผด๏ผฏ๏ผฒX๏ผฉ๏ผถ๏ผฃ๏ผจ๏ผฅ๏ผฎ๏ผซ๏ผฏ
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๏ผจ๏ผก๏ผฎ๏ผกX๏ผฃ๏ผจ๏ผฅ๏ผฏ๏ผฎ
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๏ผณ๏ผด๏ผต๏ผก๏ผฒ๏ผดX๏ผด๏ผท๏ผฏ๏ผญ๏ผข๏ผฌ๏ผน
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Viktor nearly collided with six or seven different sets of students on his mad dash out of the breakfast hall, not escaping the disapproving stares of some of his more stern professors. Dragons! He could not have been more elated had the headmaster just stated that all students had automatically passed their final exams by simply showing up for school that day. Well...maybe not that excited, but close enough. The monolithic man child pushed his way past the large oaken doors and into the cavernous entryway, searching for a familiar face that had slipped from breakfast early that morning. Hana. He took a circuitous route down the stone hall around a particularly glib group of fourth year girls who appeared to be going into fits over the news. He couldn't fathom not being enthused at the prospect of seeing a dragon up close and personal, but then again, as large as Viktor was, there wasn't much he had to be afraid of. It had been argued, amongst some of the crueler students, that his mother must have been part giant. Such talk didn't affect Vik though, it seemed this enormous golden retriever of an adolescent radiated sunshine and happiness out of his very pores. There wasn't an overcast sky immense enough to rain on his perpetual parade. As he rounded a corner, he landed his gaze on a spill of dark hair and a tiny frame that could only belong to that of his best friend. It was odd that such a petite and easily excitable Asian girl would be so compatible with a colossal but gregarious Russian brute, but they were two peas in a misshapen pod. Hana's attentions were elsewhere, her back to Viktor, focused on Stewart as she tried to coax his gaze away from his phone screen. A mischievous grin climbed up his face like a gasoline soaked wildfire. Rare was it he could remain inconspicuous enough to sneak up on her, he was so obviously salient, after all. He just had to take advantage of such an opportune moment. In a nearly cartoonish fashion he hunched his shoulders and crept forward, his gate wide but his footfalls surprisingly silent.

Hana, much like her gargantuan companion, was ecstatic about the newsโ€”so much so that she raced out of the dining hall before the Headmaster could read off the restrictions set on the school. All she could think was, "I have to tell Stuart." Of all the muggle pop culture he's told her over the years, dragons were a mythological creature he'd been enthralled with. When he found out that they were real, Hana had been there with him, and they had been in the middle of class. Hana can remember vividly the way he shook in his seat, as if he would explode with glee, casting his gaze on her with utter exuberance as he repeatedly swatted the back of her hand. So as she rushed through the halls in a frantic searched for her bespectacled friend, Hana could only hope to get a similar reaction. She found him reclined against the stone frame of a large loophole in the castle walls, phone in his hand and Clementine in his lap. The feline spots her before Stuart does, meowing in recognition and purring upon her approach. With a smile she reaches out, petting the cat between the ears before she gets her friend's attention. "Oppa, did you hear?"

"No." he says, his voice monotone and insouciant as his thumbs tap away at his phone. It was times like this where Hana wondered just who he was texting all the time. With an exasperated roll of her eyes, she takes the phone away, something no other person in the school would be able to do without facing the immediate wrath of Stuart Twombly. "Would you listen to me?" And he does, sitting up with the epitome of 'I'm waiting' strewn across his features. "There are dragons in Germany! They're close to the school!"

Stuart's eyes widen in intrigue before something seems to catch his eye. Doing a double-take behind thick frames, the muggleborn pays witness to the ludacris sight that was Viktor Ivchenko. That is, he was trying to do some kind of reconnaissance. Perhaps it was the young man's ridiculous broad shoulders or rather his generally large size that made sneaking look comical. Regardless, it made the corner of Stuart's lip twitch in amusement. Hana's brows furrow in confusion, her lips pursing as she sees that the young man's attention is elsewhere. She turns slowly in an attempt to follow it and Stuart immediately averts his eyes, catching Hana's full attention, using getting his phone back as an excuse to turn her body ever so slightly so that her back is completely to the Russian. Then he instigates a verbal tangent, one that could completely hold her attention, all with one inquiry. "Do what now?"

Just before Hana's gaze could land on the mountainous caper, Viktor dove behind a garish suit of armor once belonging to a knight more consumed by avarice than a thirst for battle. He sucked in air, willing himself to be thinner, but no matter how hard he tried, his pectoral muscles seemed to jut out past the beaten steel. Luckily for Viktor, Stuart had the presence of mind and sense of humor enough to recapture her attentions before she could take note of the monstrosity masquerading as a man playing hide and seek with an unwitting partner. With a silent sigh of relief, he resumed his extemporaneous ambush with all the grace of a lumbering giant, furtive and feckless until he was nearly breathing down her neck.

To his astonishment, she hadn't discovered him yet so he swiftly enveloped her into a quixotic bear hug, arms capturing her and holding her in place as he lifted her fully off the ground and 'nommed' at her cheek. "Grrarugh." He mouthed, teeth harmlessly pawing at the side of her face like he meant to gourmandize her. "This Chinese Dragon has come all the way to Germany to kidnap a beautiful Asian princess. Come with me or I will GOBBLE YOU UP!" He roared in his thick accent that blanketed most of his words, laughter tracing the lines of his demand, breath ticking at the nape of her neck.

Hana had only a moment before she was hoisted into the air, letting out a panicked squeal as large arms ensnare her waist. It doesn't take but a moment for her to recognize who her captor is and with it comes a litany of giggles, her nose scrunching up as she playfully kicks her feet, leaning into the touch of her friend's lips as he mockingly chews at her cheek. As their laughter bounces off the walls, even Stuart himself cannot help but smile, pocketing his phone to watch the two blatantly flirt without either of their knowledge. "Oh, let me go Viktor!" Hana says, her voice breathless from the exertion. He places her on the ground just as she asks, their smiles mirror images of each other's own. Turning, the little Korean girl looks up at her friend, craning her neck backwards because of the height difference. "Shame on you-..." she jests, lightly smacking his abdomen, "...-scaring me like that. What were you doing?"

"Isn't it obvious?" He asked with complete utter seriousness, the mirth on his face still painfully apparent. "I was being a dragon." He looked to Stuart with a thankful expression, happy to have been in cahoots with him if only briefly. "Hey Stewie."

And Stuart has a mini-anneurism at the sound of the moniker, his expression crumbling into a countenance of pure annoyance. "Hiya, Moose." he retorts, putting on an air of faux friendliness to mask his aggravation, earning him a warning glare from Hana. He throws his hands up and stands beside the couple, shoving his hands in his pockets as Clementine nestles herself atop his messenger bag. "Professor Hardwick is probably waiting on me to help prepare for today's lesson. You'll walk Hana to class?" His tone is that of a protective older brother, his gaze hard behind glass lenses as he looks down on him regardless of the height difference.

Viktor beamed with pride, hapless to Stuart's obvious diatribe. His gifting Hana's sardonic friend with a misnomer had been an extension of friendship between the two of them, and little did Stuart know, by awarding Viktor with his own nickname, had he inadvertently solidified the comradery there in the Russian's mind. They were now officially no longer just acquaintances but friends, whether the pale bundle of bone and sass liked it or not. His replying smile was practically radiant. "Gotcha covered boss, nothing slips past this fire breather." Viktor greatly respected the bond forged between Hana and Stuart, it being akin to something of a sibling nature. He mock bowed and offered the crook of his arm to Hana to slip her own through. As per Stuart's request, he'd see she made it to class without incident.

With a heavenward roll of his eyes, Stuart departs, issuing the two a lethargic salute as he turns on his heals towards Advanced Potions. Hana herself is beaming, her smile splitting her face in half as she links arms with the much larger man. Pulling towards the opposite direction, Hana ushers him down the hall, starting up a warm-hearted conversation of equally thick accents that couldn't be coherent despite the way their voice reverberated off the walls.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Stuart Twombly Character Portrait: Valentina Herrera
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๏ผฉ๏ผฎx ๏ผฃ๏ผฏ๏ผฌ๏ผฌ๏ผก๏ผข๏ผฏ๏ผฒ๏ผก๏ผด๏ผฉ๏ผฏ๏ผฎx ๏ผท๏ผฉ๏ผด๏ผจx ๏ผญ๏ผฉ๏ผณ๏ผด๏ผฒ๏ผฅ๏ผณ๏ผณx ๏ผฏ๏ผฆx ๏ผค๏ผฉ๏ผง๏ผต๏ผฉ๏ผณ๏ผฅ

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๏ผณ๏ผด๏ผต๏ผก๏ผฒ๏ผดX๏ผด๏ผท๏ผฏ๏ผญ๏ผข๏ผฌ๏ผน
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๏ผถ๏ผก๏ผฌ๏ผฅ๏ผฎ๏ผด๏ผฉ๏ผฎ๏ผกX๏ผจ๏ผฅ๏ผฒ๏ผฒ๏ผฅ๏ผฒ๏ผก
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His stride could be perceived as that of a man on a mission. With his gaze downcast on his phone, Stuart peruses the empty halls towards his first class of the day. Unlike most, Stuart always skipped breakfast. It was rare for him to ever stick around and socialize, choosing to grab a few on the go items before taking his leave. Most days he ate in solitude, fiddling with codes on his phone, but what most people assumed was texting was actually something far different. Stuart has spent countless hours perfecting a hot spot he's been working with for years so he could amplify his signal strength as well as its range. Having to keep maintenance on half a dozen routers was tedious but he managed given his prefect status. Nevertheless, having to pace the halls at all hours of the night has left naught to the imagination when it comes to Magdalena. He's seen these same halls so many times that looking up from his phone almost seems unnecessary. He navigates the halls with such precision, you'd think he'd be able to do it in his sleep, and he could. Given the chance, Stuart could probably walk blindfolded through the dungeons and describe every crack and crevice embedded in the stone walls with such startling accuracy one would question just how much time he's spent down there. Practically his entire school career would be an understatement. If he's not in his dormitory, he's in Professor Hardwick's classroom dealing with potions or alchemy reagents. Seeing the sixth year wandering these halls was almost as expected as the house ghost that lurked in dark corners, something so residual that many students suspected Stuart's own ghost would simply end up here when all was said and done. Stuart almost believed it himself. With Clementine nestled on his messenger bag, Stuart turns a sharp corner towards his destination, pocketing his phone. It's as though he cannot stand to have his hands unoccupied because the moment he puts away the device, his hand falls to his familiar, running his fingers through her soft fur. She purrs almost immediately, eliciting a private smile out of the stoic muggleborn. Though his robes were becoming riddled with white strands of fur, he couldn't bring himself to be spiteful at her. The two were as inseparable as twins could be, looking out for one another in a way that only friends do. Moving his hand from the back of her neck, Stuart reaches for the door to his potions class only to be thwarted by the sound of heavy footsteps making their way over to him.

Space was always relative inside Magdalena. No matter how many of Stark House had spilled in through the portrait hole after breakfast, there was always enough room for a comfortable crowd, and there was always plenty of couch space for the full and still somewhat somnolent students to sprawl when avoiding class. "Just like the Tardis, bigger on the inside than out." Val mused, as she quickly ducked out of the dungeon room least she be late to first period. She had never been one for breakfast anyway; choosing to skip it as per usual in favor of some extra personal time. That wouldn't have been the case could they learn to serve some decent Colombian brew. She liked her coffee black like her soul, but there was little to no chance she was drinking the swill they served here.

Just as she escaped the comfortable confines of her house chambers, barreling ahead down the hall in her general direction was the well known pundit, Stuart Twombly. They hadn't been introduced, he and Val, but Stuart was notorious for his technological advancements in the otherwise luddite school. She abruptly moved to truncate his path with relative ease, not bothering with pleasantries or even a courteous amount of tact. "You're the Wifi guy, right?" She questioned unabashedly, her thick accent decidedly sharp and caustic."What's the password?"

Turning toward his housemate on the balls of his feet, cocking a brow at the abbrasive manner in which he was addressed. "Yes-..." he says, a man of many words as always. "Where's my payment?"

"Payment? You charge for a password, that's extortion." She balked, her hands finding her hips in an vexatious manner. She was sure he must have possessed a substantial amount of guile if he was able to bleed every Facebook fiend out of their hard won money. But to her, it was well earned and deserved if he actually could supply the students with a much desired connection to the outside world. She drew herself to her full height, intrepid as always and posed her next question. "How much?"

With his lips parted in retaliation, it comes as a surprise to Stuart when her contempt was so short-lived. Very rarely did he comes across students who didn't try and put up a fight when it came to paying. Which, to Stuart, was utterly annoying. If he was to pay for the upkeep, why shouldn't he get something out of it? From what he could tell, however, the young witch before him seemed to rethink her original hatred. "Fortunately for you, I've lowered my rates to a galleon every other month." There's a jostling on his shoulder as Clementine leaps off of her perch, taking confident steps towards the young witch to sniff at her ankles. When the feline doesn't hiss, Stuart's curiosity is peaked. Clementine, for Stuart, was his buffer between those that could do him harm and himself. She had an eyeโ€”or rather noseโ€”for a person's character and their blood status. More often than not, if someone was of pure blood, she would recoil from them. However there have been rare instances, like with Hana, where blood status didn't matter. For Stuart it was only a matter of deciphering his familiar's complacency, deciding for himself whether or not this classmate was worth his time. "What's your lineage? If you don't mind my asking-..."

Valentina rooted around in her saddle bag for a galleon to spare, her focus momentarily derailed by a quadra-colored feline offender taking care to nose around her boots. She refrained from shooing the cat away so's not to offend its master, but to say she hadn't at least fleetingly contemplated nudging it back across the hall with her foot would be outright deceitful. Val wasn't much of a cat person. She idly wondered if the familiar was too sizable to be scooped up and carted off by her precious Vencedor, her own familiar who was a Great Black Hawk native to Cuba that's presence was invariably accompanied by a sudden disappearance of all the local neighborhood pets.

Just as quickly she extended her hand to deposit the coin into his own, she precipitately retracted it on principal. "Follar en serio?" She acrimoniously cursed, her profanity painted in her mother tongue. "Why do you care, perra? You got a problem selling to a muggle born?" Her dark eyes narrowed, galleon now buried in her clenched fist, expression supercilious and full of hubris. "No, I'm a pure blood but like Hell you're gonna get my business with your elitist crap. Vete al infierno." Val spat, suddenly resolute to turn her back on him and set to cracking the code to the connection herself if only just to spite him. It wasn't as if it d be some impossible feat, she was fairly capable of any technologically related task that she set her mind to. Stuart's attitude mirrored that of the very same people who her parents had left the Germany for in the first place, the reason why she had grown up in Cuba amongst muggles and a lack of overall magical influence.

As the young witch huffed and turned, Stuart suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. "How could I have a problem with providing a service to muggleborns when I am one?" he called after her, but he wasn't sure why. In retrospect, he couldn't hold it against her for having the reaction she did. For a moment he can almost hear Hana nagging him in his head, telling him how rude he was being. Stuart was never really good at phrasing things in a way that wasn't considerably rude to other people, so it went without saying that things like this happened to him often. When she stops in her tracks but doesn't turn, Stuart exhales a sigh, briefly pinching the bridge of his nose before he elaborates the intention behind his inquiry, "I asked you about your lineage because most purebloods don't take interest in muggle technology. Clementine doesn't particularly take kindly to them, either. She likes you though-...for whatever reason." His sentence drifts off towards the end, more so directed at his familiar than the witch. Clementine responds with a chipper meow, swishing her tail against the stone floor happily. His lips twitch at the corner almost reluctantly before he folds his arms across his chest, steeling his expression, "So do want the password or not?"

Val arched a meticulously groomed brow, turning to face him with some hesitancy. If she hadn't known better, she'd be inclined to believe they were very eerily of a similar temperament. Not so great with social exchange, but both generally quite adept in some form or other of mechanization and additionally altogether cynical, recalcitrant, and wary of other people. She hadn't many friends at Magdalena despite her 'overtly sunny disposition', insert sarcasm here, but then again, she hadn't the opportunity to get to know this lanky techno-file checked with moles just yet. She gave him a once over before nodding stiffly, and at long last, relinquishing the payment before she dug her Nexus 5 in white out from her jean pocket and unlocked it for him to input the password. She flashed a conspiratorial close-lipped grin at his calico before she spoke again. "I happen to be very technologically predisposed, thank you very much." She mentioned rather pointedly.

Without a word he takes the phone, going into the settings and tapping away at the on screen keyboard with ease. It was nothing like is Nokia Lumia 920 in that it had a much more minimalist charm but it was highly dependable device and easy to use. Suffice to say, he was a little impressed that she had something like that considering all the mainstream products he's seen roaming the campus. He lifts his gaze as she speaks, a private smirk pulling at the corner of his lips as he gives her a nod of recognition. "I can see that." Stuart goes into her contacts then, making a new one for himself without putting a picture to the name, giving her his phone number before closing out of the application. "If you have any other devices let me know. I'd be happy to put the code in for you." Handing it back to her, Stuart discreetly pats his messenger bag, coaxing Clementine onto her perch where she promptly sits.

She knew well enough to recognize how loosely applied the term happy had to have been, he didn't appear all that elated, but still, at any rate, she'd have to tell him about 'The Beast.' "I do have a laptop of sorts...it's back in my dormitory though. Think you might be able to meet me in the common room later? Like say, after dinner?" Val was a pragmatic individual, she knew it had to be done, but she wasn't exceedingly eager to show her pet project off to a virtual stranger, no matter how austerely genuine albeit off putting this muggle born guy seemed. However, not having internet access on her dismantled Frankenstein PC would be inconceivable.

"Yeah," he replies easily, surprising not only himself but his familiar as well, "I'll stop by before prefect duty. Around eight-thirty?" Clementine seems pleased with idea if the constant motion of her tail is anything to go by.

"Sure." She impetuously replied, the whole exchange leaving her with the sensation of it being somehow oddly significant. "Well, I have class so I'm gonna jet." Val shuffled off after that, ready to wash her hands of the brusque quid pro quo. Only did she toss an aberrant glance over her shoulder after Stuart was well out of view.

With a simple nod he watches her go, thinking to himself and mulling over the peremptory exchange in his mind. To any onlooker it would seem out of character for him to pause, but there was something about the witch he couldn't put his finger on. He wanted to know more, pursue his curiosity and find out everything he wanted to know. Clementine catches him, placing her paw on the back of his hand. Stuart meets her knowing look and he huffs a laugh, telling her to be quiet before finally opening the door and slipping into the dark, dank space that was Professor Hardwick's classroom.