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Bobby Burkinson

Deceased

0 · 728 views · located in Magnus Grexx

a character in “Witchcraft And Wizardry”, as played by Cookiiie

Description



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|Name|
Bobby Burkinson

|Nickname|
Bobs, Billy

|Birthday|
February 3rd

|Age|
Sixteen

|Nationality|
PureBlood

|Sexuality|
Heterosexual

|Role|
Student/Prefect



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“You must be the change you wish to see in the world.”
― Gandhi




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|Likes|


The term 'Posh' // Dr. Pepper // Doctor Who // Apple Pie // The Walking Dead // Scary Movies // Wanking off // Yogurt // Dancing Randomly // Girls or as he refers them to being the 'Ponies'.// Harassing old grannies. // Being Cocky //


|Dislikes|

Slags // Cockhead's // Wankers // That Old People Smell // Being made fun of // Nose hair // Sluts //



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“When we are no longer able to change a situation - we are challenged to change ourselves.”
― E. Frankl




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|Quirks|

Bold // Cocky // Arrogant // Goofy // Loud // Ignorant //

|Habits|

Uses the terms ( Slag, Posh, Wanker, Spliff, Surf and Turf and Scoundrel ) Alot // Bites his nails when nervous // Can be quite cocky // Gets angry and arrogant when mad or confused.// Often bites his lip when he likes or wants something. //





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“Sometimes I sit by myself and sing into a camera cause I have mental health."
― Ed Sheeran




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|Personality|

"I have a personality...But it's kind of locked away in a jar glass with nothing but flavored beans and chocolate cards." Bobby is an aggressive cockhead, whose only goal is to believe in himself and achieve even greater accomplishments within the wizarding world. He's smart, averaging with either proficient or excellent scores with whatever comes his way and is always first in his classes, no matter what exam or course it be. He's arrogant, using his quick mouth and justifiable remarks to talk down or back to others, always finding a way to make some look bad or good. He's Goofy, But only with his friends or peers and he's quite loud, not caring a single thing in the world as to who hears him when he's either gossiping or whispering. In detail, however he suffers from a serious multiple personality disorder and has a serious superior complex for an odd reason. His other personality is very cold, talking or discussing nothing to no one if he so chooses, and mumbles silently in his sleep, often referring to actions he has or had committed and maybe even ones to come.



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“More Punchlines Than A High-School Disco.”
- Rizzle Kicks




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|History|

Bobby was born on Halloween, in midst of the awkwardness. He was a very small, plump fellow with a round head, piercing grey eyes and the most petrifying smile. Unfortunately, at the age of 4 years old, his parents left him at an off-road orphanage, far away from the muggles, the witches and the wizards, the goblins, the trolls and the boggarts alike. Orphan life was average at the most. He went to school, worked hard for his earning and was the top of his class every year. Singing was his special gift, learning to play multiple instruments that varied on his particular taste and needs. Continuing on his musical path, till at the age of 11, On a midnight's eve, he received a letter, pardoning him of all concerns and doubts about life itself. At first, he believed it to be a host, an average joke of some sort, but nonetheless he was in awe despite being emotionally unstable.

Mangus Grexx was everything he had ever dreamed of, using his talents to outwit others and become a prefect, forcing his authority on younger students and using them for his own personal gain. He was growing, but hastily. His hatred for muggles and mudbloods began to grow despite the fact that they were all the same, pureblood or not. He wished, and wanted them dead, in turn aligning himself with other purebred students, all the same. Snobby, Obnoxious, Rude, Arrogant, Irresponsible, Non Tolerant and Possessive they were indeed. Today, he's just turned sixteen and will shortly be awaiting the new students arrival, along with the others.


|Wand|
OakWood

Anything Else?|


//Theme Song\\



So begins...

Bobby Burkinson's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Natasha Daggerman Character Portrait: Waylon W. Wolfsbach Character Portrait: Stephen Schwarz Character Portrait: Bobby Burkinson Character Portrait: Nora Selene Gray Character Portrait: Abraham Delavergne
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Bobby Burkinson, The boy who had it all. He was everything a luscious pureblood family would want. To achieve, a feeling of accomplishment. To rule, a feeling of entitlement. To feed, the crave of hunger. These things are what made him who he aspired to be in the wizarding world. "Why would they leave me? Why would they put me away as if I was useless? Imperfect? a complete and utter nothing.." His thoughts reconciled. The air was filled with magic, chocolate cards and flavored beans being stepped on at the second, and the smell, like strawberries in the summer. He could just taste the sweet treat on his tongue, if only.

Bobby grabbed his luggage, followed by tugging lightly on his pet owl Pola."Oh come on you dumb twig! I didn't spend my last galleons on you for this!" He mumbled a slight curse under his breath entering the cruise as he walked forward, entering what appeared to be simply magnificent."Holy.." His mouth dropped in awe, nodding to himself in secret of the compartment room. He sat his luggage down, cracking his neck with a short sigh as he crossed his leg over the other.

"Now..if only I had a little mudblood to keep me company." He chuckled to himself, watching as fellow students passed by into there rooms. Bobby would have three others join him, and he wasn't one for a great conversation about simply anything so to himself, he was all that'd be needed. He pulled out his wand sitting it on the table next to him, slouching in his seat as he stared at the pouring rain, dripping and dropping against the hard steel glass. "It'll break..eventually." His snickering became depressing and his urgency to walk in such a close space became disturbing.

His ramblings came to a holt, as the woman opened the door. "Anything off the trolley dear?" He responded hastily, grinning with a slick smile that could break a mirror, shutting the door fast in the poor woman's face."I don't need anything from the fowl likes of her."He thought to himself in delight. Bobby was on the verge of being completely out of it. He was a mental nutcase that was entrapped inside, waiting to talk to someone other than himself. With no time needed he exited, walking to the back where a small crowd of student's were.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Natasha Daggerman Character Portrait: Waylon W. Wolfsbach Character Portrait: Bobby Burkinson Character Portrait: Character Portrait: Character Portrait:
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The lighthearted air of the dock and the students that walked upon it was more potent than the ecstasy of the black waves crashing powerfully against the towering wooden ship. Today was a joyous occasion, as summer vacation was finally over, and another wonderful year at Magnus Grexx was about to unfold. For Natasha Daggerman, this time was especially significant, as she would finally be returning to the magical place that she regarded as her one true home.

Today, Natasha's hair was pigmented a white-grey hue; sterling silver to call the color something. Her eyes were a light purple, and a slender arrow tattoo cascaded down her right forearm. A dark brown trenchcoat draped itself over her thin body, almost touching the wooden planks of the dock hidden underneath her battered hiking boots. The metamorphmagi wanted her appearance to blend in with the dark elements surrounding her, but with her well-known reputation and utterly recognizable face, her efforts were fruitless. She stuck out like a bright lighthouse in the thick of night, but with the happy expressions people gave her, she didn't really mind.

Leather suitcase in one hand, broomstick in the other, Natasha boarded the ship. It was her last year at the academy, so she tried to soak in as much of the boat's majestic atmosphere as she could. Unfortunately, the fact of the matter remained that she was used to its grand architecture, as she had already boarded the ship three times before. Still, the feeling of magic was so potent, that it gave a tingling sensation of excitement inside her alabaster skin that she had never felt before. This year was bound to be a good one.

Suddenly, the booming sound of a slamming door filled the air. An old lady in front of her shrieked, her stubby arms flailing in the air. The force of the door had barely scraped her face off. The golden carriage of multi-colored sweets beside her almost toppled over due to the kinetic energy, but Natasha was able to catch it before it reached the floor.

The elderly woman puffed her chest out angrily, and grumbled, musing to herself as she furiously pushed the cart in front of her. "Snotty kids these days..." Natasha could hear her mutter as she stirred by, heading to another compartment. What had just happened? Whatever it was, it wasn't something rather nice. The Vulpes's curiosity sparked to life, and almost instantly, she formulated a plan of sweet revenge.

If this lady wasn't going to stick up for herself against this bratty student, than Natasha would. She relaxed the muscles in her face, letting the magic inside of her take its course. She could feel creases and tender spots appear around her eyes and cheeks. The seventeen-year-old giggled in delight as she took out her compact mirror from her pocket, admiring just how accurately she had recreated the facial features of the old woman upon her own.

Now it was time to teach this kid a lesson. She boldly opened the door, revealing her new hair and face but being careful as to hide the rest of her body.

"Young man, I ought to tell the headmaster of this disgusting case of teenage angst!" she scolded Bobby Burkinson in her best old lady voice. To be frank, she wasn't very surprised to see him sitting there. "As soon as we get to the school, ten points will be deducted from Arietem. In fact..."

She pulled a bunch of Bertie Bott's beans out of her pocket, (without any box to encase them), and chucked the tiny candies at the boy, aiming for his mouth. "There's some jelly beans to wash down your bad behavior! They're dirt flavored...a metaphor for your insufferable attitude."

Natasha snickered in her mind. Behind her, she could hear some female students snickering as well.

"Well, I must be off. GOOD DAY SIR."

She slammed the door with the same force Bobby had used before, and reset her face back to its normal form. Underclassman crowded around her, but instead of talking to them, she trotted up the stairs to the quarterdeck, determined to find a compartment not contaminated with Pureblooded hot-heads...

And of course, the joint was crowded. She pushed her way past the underclassmen until she found a familiar face. Commanding the lot of confused students was the Cervus Head Boy, The Bach himself.

"Waylon! My favorite country bumpkin!" she approached him. "How was your summer? Well, never mind, we'll talk about it when we're in our compartment far away from this riot. We are sitting in the same compartment, riiiiiiight?"

She gave him a cheesy smile and a wink, remaining still as she awaited his response.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Natasha Daggerman Character Portrait: Waylon W. Wolfsbach Character Portrait: Stephen Schwarz Character Portrait: Gideon Caulfield Character Portrait: Bobby Burkinson Character Portrait: Abraham Delavergne
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"Hey Natasha, Waylon," said a meek little voice as quiet as the subtle sounds of the waves below the ship. A girl with deep brown hair and large rosy lips approached, placing her suitcase and caged owl down onto the wooden ground. "Sorry if I'm interrupting something."

Natasha gave her a gentle smile, her irises unconsciously blossoming into a friendly shade of blue. "You're not interrupting anything, Rose," she said, enveloping her arms around the tiny girl. Rose was one of those people who could do absolutely nothing wrong no matter how hard she tried. A sister Vulpes, she was somewhat shy, but far from insensitive. Unfortunately, the arrogant pricks who made blood purity their religion considered her an anomaly, as she was a muggle-born witch, and a target to their abuse. Still, she wasn't alone, because whenever those troublemakers talked about Rose behind her back, Natasha was always there to stick up for her.

It was while she was hugging Rose that the metamorphmagi spotted another familiar face. Wavy blonde hair, chiseled features, broad body and stubbly chin. None other than the famous Abraham Delavergne himself. An Arietem, yes, but one of the better ones.

His hands stuffed in his jean pockets, the Quidditch captain gazed at Natasha, Waylon and Rose with inviting eyes. "Hello," he greeted the three of them once he was in close proximity. He stared at the Cervus head boy for a second, and then his eyes trailed to Rose, where they stayed put. While his mouth curled up into a smirk and awkward silence filled the air, Natasha furrowed her brows, a sardonic scoff escaping her lips.

"Hello? Just hello???" she teased, "Abraham Claude Delavergne, if you came all this way just to be uncharacteristically taciturn, then I suggest you either leave this conversation, or return to your usual outgoing disposition."

She wrapped her arms around him as well, giving a low chuckle in her normal sultry tone. She didn't talk to him much, or at least she didn't think she did. Regardless, he was a Quidditch player and so was she, and the upcoming games they would play this season would be their last. If a hug wasn't appropriate now, then it would never be in the days to come.

Her eyes flickered to Waylon, Rose, and Abraham respectively. "I want to see you all in my compartment later," she said, "the one that I'm going to go find right now before the boat starts setting sail. I'll be back."

But just before she could leave the semi-circle, Stephen Notwood stepped in front of her.

"Sterling silver today, Natasha? You wear it well, as always" he said. She didn't talk to him much, but that still didn't give her an excuse not to smile at him. She placed one hand in her pocket and used the other to tuck a loose strand of white-grey hair behind her cute little ear.

"Thank you," she grinned, scurrying past him. She had mixed opinions about Stephen Notwood, but couldn't help beaming at his compliment. After all, boys rarely gave her praise for her appearance...no matter how much it changed. For girls it was a different story, but the opposite sex was a little bit more difficult to impress.

On her search to find an empty cabin, she saw another boy named Stephen, a classmate she knew somewhat better than the last. He was a Ferres, a straight-A student, and the most mysterious male-human-person that Natasha Daggerman had ever seen in her entire life. What was it about Stephen Schwarz that fascinated her? Was it his introverted nature? His brilliant mind? The fact that his name was ironically similar in sound to that of a famous Broadway composer?

It was all of that, and one other thing. Every time she gazed upon him, he looked like a perfect pane of glass; fragile, yet shimmering in the light. She kept admitting to herself that she wasn't attracted to him, but by god, was he beautiful. Not in a conventional sense, but in an abstract one. Natasha found no difficulty in starting a conversation with anyone, but with Stephen...well, that was a challenge. What she wouldn't give to get to know him. She would talk to him this year. Or perhaps she would dare herself to. Even if she did, she doubted the task would be possible.




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"Sorry, miss" hummed a husky voice located on the lower deck of the ship. Jet-black hair slicked back behind him, a cleft chin littered with stubble, and a lean figure; these were the features of the infamous Gideon Caulfield. The seventh-year student with a task always on his mind. A teenager with a mind more mature than his physical appearance.

He slithered through the cruise ship, opening every single compartment door, promptly slamming them shut once he failed to find the person he was looking for. He was causing a commotion amongst the people sitting silently in their quarters, but then again, when wasn't he causing a commotion?

He opened another door, this time smirking devilishly as he found Bobby Burkinson quietly resting by his lonesome. This boy was his target.

"Hello there, fellow Arietem," Gideon spoke, entering the small space and gingerly closing the door behind him. He took a seat opposite the sixteen-year-old, gazing at him like a predator does prey. "Word's spreading around like wildfire that one of the trolley ladies told you off for slamming a door in her face. Don't worry, I'm well aware of the real truth, as I have my methods," he chuckled curtly, "but your behavior has speculated me to believe that your presence would be greatly needed in a private group that I have been tasked with promoting..."

He pulled out a parcel of paper and, with his thorny black wand, used a telekinetic-like spell to make a feather quill float towards the boy in front of him. He handed Bobby the paper, which, in capital letters, had the words Junior Death Eaters scribbled up at the top. There were two names below it - Aleksander Krumm, and Gideon Caulfield.

"Now, I'm not your mother or anything, but I'd just like to tell you why it would be awfully profitable for a person of your ambition to enroll in this." He crossed his legs, every part of his body attaining a relaxed, enticing quality. "The Death Eaters, or the Knights of Walpurgis as they were initially called, was a prominent English organization that appeared throughout the 70's and 90's. Their goal was to spread the goodness of pureblood supremacy and eradicate the filth that was muggles and mudbloods. And they succeeded to an extent, but eventually failed at the hands of a certain Harry Potter and his loyal disciples."

His eyes darted around the room for a while, but eventually chained themselves back to Bobby's. "Now, I'm not asking you to join an organization. I'm asking you to join a group that will promote the message of the original Death Eaters, but in a much more modern, enthusiastic, and well..." he glumly exhaled, "understandable way. You see, the original Death Eaters scared the public in order to promote their message. With their force, they encouraged the public to believe that they were a radical terrorist group, which in reality was so far from the truth, that Merlin himself was rolling in his grave. They were missionaries, not monsters..."

He leaned in closer to Bobby.

"Listen...I, as well as others you'd surely love to meet, want potential for this group. You should consider it an absolute honor to be briefed about this in the first place. After all, with your talent, Bobby Burkinson, we could definitely use you. Ask me what you'd be getting in return, and we'll be in business, my friend," he smirked.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: [NPC] Bartender Character Portrait: Natasha Daggerman Character Portrait: Waylon W. Wolfsbach Character Portrait: Stephen Schwarz Character Portrait: Bobby Burkinson Character Portrait: Abraham Delavergne
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“Break it up, y'all. Time to get back down below and stop worryin'...” Waylon stopped. The crowd was getting a little restless and fierce, and overly loud for his control. Waylon never had the inclination to raise his voice more than usual – his voice was deep and it was always slightly painful to get louder. Nevertheless, it was his responsibility. He saw the Burkinson boy walk up, smug and alone as usual. The only reason Waylon even bothered knowing the boy's name was that he was actually quite cute.
Of course, however, trouble always seemed to come to Waylon, first. Fortunately, this time the trouble was quite pleasant. None other than the endearing Natasha Daggerman, loveliest lady of House Vulpes – and a real darling. Waylon had always been a little sweet on the redhead, and although she was smiley and fun with everyone, he always felt safe to be around her.
"Waylon! My favorite country bumpkin!" she approached him. "How was your summer? Well, never mind, we'll talk about it when we're in our compartment far away from this riot. We are sitting in the same compartment, riiiiiiight?" Waylon's face, turning to see the Vulpes girl, was caught in both shock (at being called a country bumpkin) and joy at finally hearing a friendly voice.
“Now, now! Didn't your mama never tell y'all not to call people names, Natasha?” He raised his nose up at her, crossing his arms, in mock judgement. But his face lacked seriousness – Natasha always commanded a smile across his face.
”My summer was fantastic. A few of the cows were late in labor, but we had another seven calves by July. It was great! One of them was even a bull! Y'all should'a seen it.” Waylon's drawl was always thicker when he got back from Summer, but he always wondered why people giggled (especially Natasha) when he said “y'all.” ”And, of course we're sharing the same compartment! I'm offended you would even question that! Of course, it all depends on when and if I can get everyone in their compartments and figure out what's causing this damned block. God willing and the creek don't rise. Or in this case, er... the ocean.”
"Hey Natasha, Waylon," Rose greeted them, glancing between the two. "Sorry if I'm interrupting something," she said. She set her suitcase and owl cage down beside her. Rose was a cute girl – and a very smart one at that. But they weren't overly close, understandably so.
”No, of course not, Rose. We were just catching up – ya know, exchanging the obligatory insults and all that. How are you and Ginger?” Waylon always loved to talk about other people's pets – especially the owls. He waited for Rose's response, and shortly after he found himself smiling as the very handsome Abraham Delavergne approached the threesome.
Waylon always had a love/respect/hate thing for Abraham. In terms of hate, Abraham was a natural leader, charming and confident; Waylon was timid, affectionate and... servicing. As prefect, he “had” authority, but the power dynamic between them was always up in the air. In terms of respect, Waylon was a very capable prefect and always saw his own role as that of servant of his peers. Therefore, he could always respect Abraham when the other boy could rile up a crowd and dictate social policy. And in terms of everything else... well, Waylon had spent many hours in the confessional about the various thoughts he had about Abraham. Of course, none of that mattered because no one cared and nobody was interested in Waylon anyway.
"Hello? Just hello???" Natasha teased the blond, "Abraham Claude Delavergne, if you came all this way just to be uncharacteristically taciturn, then I suggest you either leave this conversation, or return to your usual outgoing disposition." Of course Natasha would follow up with a hug! Natasha always followed up with a hug. As to her lack of hugging him, he would simply guilt trip her later for an even better hug. Her eyes flickered to Waylon, Rose, and Abraham respectively. "I want to see you all in my compartment later," she said, "the one that I'm going to go find right now before the boat starts setting sail. I'll be back." Waylon gently nodded.
”Natasha is right, though.” Waylon smiled big towards Abraham. It wasn't so much that they were close. Waylon wasn't even sure if Abraham even saw him as a friend. Waylon Willard Wolfsbach, however, is a master of goofy smiles and enthusiasm for what little bit of warmth he got. ”I was going to say: seven years with us weirdos and all you have to offer is a 'hello'? Well I'll be darned, what in the Sam Hill is that? I would force a hug onto you, as well, but ya know. Never give a wasp a honeycomb!”
Stephen Notwood stopped Natasha as she stepped away, a conversation a bit too quiet for the rest of the group. But nevertheless, Natasha smiled even larger, responded and continued. Notwood then turned to the rest.
"Ah, Waylon. Has the Muggle Rite re-instituted the Latin Liturgy yet?" he asked Waylon, focusing on one of their mutually favorite topics. Latin, though the language of the Ancient Romans, was carried on by the Catholic Church for almost two millenia. Latin was gradually dropped in the 1960's in the Second Vatican Council. Catholic Latin – ecclesiastical or church latin, as it is known- differs slightly from Classical Latin, biggest difference being in the pronunciation of certain consonants. Waylon was well-read in church latin, coming from a longline of traditionalist Catholics; this was often a point of contention in some classes. When the professors pronounced latin spells and potions in Classical Latin, Waylon's immediate response was to stubbornly correct them in Church Latin. It was perhaps his most obnoxious trait in his public life.
Stephen Notwood liked to bring up this very same topic everytime he saw Waylon after a long absence. Perhaps it was just Notwood's inner troll, or a genuine interest, but Waylon took the bait everytime. ”Not quite, yet,” the half-blood replied, ”oh, but we're still holding our breaths. My uncle, the monsignor back home, says all the Masses in Latin under dispensation from our bishop. Some of my kinfolk refused to go to Mass until that dispensation was enforced. 'Course, there is definitely room for English... when German or Latin doesn't suffice.”.
The Ferre Prefect, the other Stephen, inched close enough to the group for Waylon to beckon him. Perhaps it was the germanic surname or the freckles or the cute glasses – or just everything in general- but Waylon was extremely excited to have Stephen Schwarz on the prefect team. Responsible, intelligent and kind'a adorable, he was a perfect colleague. ”Hey Schwarz, I don't mean to bother you. I'm having difficulty with this crowd. Can you see if you can get them orderly, again? If not, we might have to find a professor.” Having addressed the other prefect, he gave him an innocent wink and shrunk into a submissive smile.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Natasha Daggerman Character Portrait: Natalie Dumonte Character Portrait: Waylon W. Wolfsbach Character Portrait: Stephen Schwarz Character Portrait: Isabella Gray Character Portrait: Gideon Caulfield
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Bobby stood at the front of the cruise, looking on at the sight of Magnus with awe and aspiration within. He couldn't control how much his lust for returning outpaced itself. "Ah, fresh air indeed.. He thought silently to himself. He fixed his posture and licked his lips, followed by untying the knot in his freshly green tie. Bobby sniffed, once and again, finding himself uncontrollably sneezing at that. He whipped his nose with his arm, shaking his head as a sign of relief as he peaked over, noticing something strangely odd, grotesque rising to the top of the ocean losing all hope as his face changed from relief to horror within seconds.

They were humongous, rising in the league of hundreds, mermen and maid alike. All holding on tightly to their tridents and pitchforks. But they were waiting, almost as though they had been signaled. With shock came blood, as the skies lit up in a dash of multiple colors, snakes in fact, swirling around the other, almost hissing like a python in the Egyptian deserts. He gripped tightly onto his wand, turning left to face the cold that awaited him.

Men, covered in masks and smoke. Demons he thought? But he knew all too well for what was to come. Screams filled the air, followed by laughter and spells shouting left and right from one another. He fell down, watching the death eaters board the cruise one by one, filling what joy the students had with coldness, rain and death.

He pulled out his wand, breathing heavily with short pauses to catch his breath. Where were the others? Were they safe? Secure? His thoughts mesmerized and changed, crossing his arms as he hid under the cupboard by the deck, surrounded by spells shooting back and forth. "We're at deck! We're at deck!" The captain cried, stopping the cruise to a halt as Bobby exited. Pushing, following and running for his life.

"Dementors! Dementors!" A poor young girl screamed, pointing to the skies as they fell like rain. Bobby could see the carriages in clear view that would lead him to the school, safe and unharmed. He sped up his pace and ran, turning his back to see an all out war still on the cruise. "Faster, I must.." He repeated by the dozens. He could see it, the carriage just a few distances away, finally, he had made it.

Too soon the boy had hoped. Bobby clenched hard onto the carriage door, unknowingly realizing his fate would be decided right there. A word came..followed by a flash of green light. Bobby hit the floor with a face that had been filled with pink now cold like ice. He was dead.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Natalie Dumonte Character Portrait: Bobby Burkinson Character Portrait: Character Portrait: Character Portrait: Character Portrait:
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ImageThe day had not started out all that different from most others. Sure, it had been an earlier start than usual, and sure, she'd had to say goodbye to her parents, with promises to write and keep hold of the quidditch house cup. But in terms of unfamiliar and strange circumstances, it was all fairly in the norm. She'd dragged her belongings -a large suitcase and an empty owl cage, the latter because Natalie's owl, affectionately named after the white-haired heroine from Game of Thrones, had gone fly-about the day prior- as she searched for her cabin, before abandoning said belongings in order to go wandering about the ship's many decks. She'd weaved through a crowd of second years, and slipped past a trio of snickering fourth years before making her way above deck, drinking in the salty air with a faint smile, and feeling that familiar spark of anticipation for the year ahead. The previous year, she hadn't gotten into too much trouble, and had still managed to remain on her teachers' good lists. Would her seventh be similar? Heh, she hoped not. There was only so much of the same-old-same-old she could take.

Now, she was leaning against the bow of the ship, gazing unto the horizon and returning a wave sent to her by a particularly cheerful mermaid. Noting a presence behind her, she turned, and when her eyes fell upon none other than Bobby Burkinson, her smile darkened slightly. That boy. He really was the least pleasant of company. Even with both of her parents being wizards, he found fault in her heritage. She remembered fifth year, when he'd muttered something about her mother being a 'mudblood', and she'd reacted deftly.

A sharp right hook to his upturned nose.

She opened her mouth to greet him, when, quite suddenly, the boy's expression changed. His terror was clear on his features, and with curiosity, she followed his gaze.

Her own expression soon followed suit.

Men in masks. Dementors beneath their cloaks. An icy air and a feeling of dread. That what she saw and felt as she slid her wand from her pocket and shot a hex at one of the masked figures, "Petrificus Totalus!" and sent him down, before rushing after Bobby, only to catch sight of about eleven screaming first years. Running over to them, she urged them to come with her, leading them inside, following her fellow Arietum further into the ship, trying to comfort and calm the young ones as she did. "Don't worry, everything's going to be o-" A flash of green cut her off and lit up her features, and a figure fell in front of her, his glazed eyes staring blankly, his face eerily pale. As recognition dawned on her, Natalie's eyes widened in horror. "Bobby..."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Natalie Dumonte Character Portrait: Bobby Burkinson Character Portrait: Nora Selene Gray Character Portrait: Corky De Luca Character Portrait: Character Portrait:
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Her hand softly ran through her short hair as the young witch passed compartment after compartment. They were all filled to the brim with students which only drew a sigh from her lips. Corky wanted to find a compartment where she could just lay down and shut everything out for the whole ride but her search wasn't looking so fruitful until her tired eyes fell on a compartment that only held one person. With a slight smirk on her lips Corky quickly made her way over to the door sliding it open slowly and slipping inside. She stood in front of a young, small witch who was reading and had a cat napping on her lap. The small witch took up half the compartment so the young death eater set her things down on the other side.

"Hey, do you mind if I crash here for the ride?"

Corky's voice was relaxed and soft in tone but she sat down before the witch could answer then her sitting turned into laying as she used her backpack as her pillow. Time ticked by in silence and Corky liked it, the silence was nice but the movement of the waves beneath the ship was a bit nauseating, the witch across from her didn't look so good either. The young death eater couldn't take this anymore, she needed a smoke so she reached into her backpack and pulled out a bottle of ginger ale she hadn't open yet. She looked at it for a second then back over to her compartment mate before setting it next to her. "Here this will help with the nausea."

With that Corky was out the door and making her way above deck while she got her pink-ish cigarette ready to light as soon as she stepped into that fresh air. With cigarette in mouth and now lit, Cory walked over the the edge and rested her arms across the wood as she gazed into the endless sea. She blew out a cloud of cherry scented smoke into the air and hung her arms over the edge. A yawn escaped her lips but so did another puff of smoke that caught her attention. Corky blew out nothing but air his time just to see her own breath instead but before any ideas came to her head a scream broke her confusion.

Corky turned her head so fast that you would be surprised that she didn't give herself whiplash. Her eyes widened as she took in the sight of Dementors rising form the front of the ship. All the happiness and color was quickly sucked from all around leaving us under a dark cloudy sky that bared the dark sign. The young death eater gulped as she froze in place. What was going on? That's when she saw the death eaters, the people in masks. Those people . . . she didn't know them. Those wern't the death eaters she knew but she did recognize one by his mask and he was one of the higher ranking death eaters. What was she suppose to do? Her mother told her nothing about this attack but the mark on her left arm did burn and stung more intensely than usual. Was it because of them?

Corky reached down quickly taking her wand out from her boot and held it up as the once quiet air was filled with screaming and yelling from all directions plus the sound of hexes and jinxes whizzing by her ear. Her eyes darted around as she saw a boy struck down not to far from her. At that moment her feet moved on their own and she shielded the girl who stood in front of the boy who was just struck down from a hex. Corky hesitated for a second because she didn't know whether to attack or not. These weren't the death eaters she was trained by or knew but they were still death eaters all the same. Having the girl close behind her Corky wasn't going to let her die so she sent out a couple of rapid, wordless jinxes that sent the death eater overboard and into the water. "Cover me, I'm not leaving him here like this!"

Regina ran over to the lifeless body of the boy and picked him up the best she could. He wasn't that heavy but he was still heavy enough for Corky to struggle a little with him as she pulled his body back below deck hoping that girl was following her. "S-someone please help!" she half yelled hoping someone would come to her aid because honestly she didn't know what to do now. He was dead and there was probably no way of saving him but she wasn't going to leave his body there.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Natasha Daggerman Character Portrait: Waylon W. Wolfsbach Character Portrait: Stephen Schwarz Character Portrait: Gideon Caulfield Character Portrait: Bobby Burkinson Character Portrait: Abraham Delavergne
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There was a full-blown storm outside now. Waylon, as well as his wolf, Florence, had finally returned to the cabin. “Damn straight! The ocean's full of surprises." he quipped at Natasha's comment, "That' why I don't trust it. You can't be swept up in a typhoon or a hurricane or a kracken's belly in the middle of a farm. Only thing you gotta fear is a skeeter. Or cockroaches! Ewww. Or maybe getting' chopped up by some weirdo with a chainsaw. That's always fun.”

Suddenly, Natasha felt something drop onto her lap.

Stephen had replied.

"Natasha, Schwarz, Abraham. What are y'all gonna do after the school year? What's the plan? asked Waylon. "I'd ask you too, Rose," he added as an afterthought, "but you've got a couple more to go. But what do you have planned in the meantime?" Natasha then pulled up the paper and promptly read Stephen's handwriting...

I. Hello, love.

Love? She raised a brow and smirked. What an interesting choice of words.

"....I haven't exactly settled on something, so nothing is set in stone... muttered Stephen in response to Waylon's question, "however, I am considering being an Auror. That has always seemed like a rewarding position."

She read over his second reply...

II. Imagine a fate worse than death. Your spirit being sucked out of you like some sort of delicious elixir of life by these creatures. The Dementor's Kiss was used by The Ministry of Magic as a sentence for the most 'heinous' of criminals...it was more fun for them to watch than to simply dispose of them through more...permanent means.

She stared at his words for a moment, letting their intensity process into her brain, and then shuddered. She felt sorry for the muggle out there who had to suffer such a traumatizing experience. A part of her hoped that she would never have to experience the same thing.

While Abraham was talking, she inspected Stephen's third and final reply, shuddering more than the last response he had written. Her heart dropped into her stomach as she read...

III. I do not want to be the bearer of bad news, but I am afraid that it is possible for an attack like this to happen on the island. Actually there is no doubt in my mind that it may very well happen. Nothing feels like it once did. It no longer feels...as safe as it did.

He could write that last sentence again. When she had first read the article, Natasha wondered whether or not it was wise to alert the headmaster and faculty of the dementors and the threat they posed to Magnus Grexx. With Stephen's answers, she supposed they already knew. Like he had stated, nothing felt like it once did...

Natasha then opened her mouth to answer Waylon's question. That's when the sound of distant screams filled the silence. They came from above, and struck fear into the hearts of everyone in the compartment.

"What was that?" Natasha asked after faintly hearing another frightening noise. It sounded like lightening...or perhaps an explosion...

Just then, a blood-curdling scream filled the air.

"DEMENTORS! DEMENTORS!" shouted a female voice.

What a coincidence.

Like a moth flew toward a flame, Stephen tore the door open and flew out into the hall, past the curious heads that were peeking out through the doorways. Natasha rose from her seat. Abraham exited into the hall as well.

"Wait, guys..."

But before she had the chance to escape the compartment herself, the door in front of her slammed shut, followed by a heartbreaking clicking sound.

"No, no, NOOO!!!" she roared, pounding her fists against the wood. Her stomach was twisting in knots.

"Son of a banshee jinxed the doors shut..." she angrily exhaled. Furious, she pulled out her wand and gazed out the window. Dementors and colored lights from cast spells were flying all over the place. Fortunately, the ship was close to the dock, the carriages not too far away...

She turned to Waylon and Rose. "Stand back..." she commanded, guiding them behind her, and getting as far away from the window as she possibly could before pointing her wand at the wall.

"BOMBARDA!!!"

She coughed as a cloud of sawdust filled her lungs. Fortunately, the mini explosion had teared open the wood, allowing an escape from the ship. With haste, Natasha ran forward, jumping feet-first into the cold waters below. The waves were angry and she had to dive into the water once or twice to avoid a ricocheting spell, but eventually she was able to pull herself up onto the docks.

It was out of the corner of her eye that she saw the body of Bobby Burkinson sprawled out on the ground nearby. From his pale face and stunned expression, she knew he was clearly dead. There were masked figures and hooded dementors everywhere, but to her chagrin, there were no teachers around. If they didn't come soon enough, the ship sitting behind her would surely turn into a slaughterhouse.

With an unsaid spell, Natasha paralyzed the masked man in front of her, allowing a clear path to the quarterdeck. Breath short, Natasha shouted, "ABRAHAM! STEPHEN!" and ran full-force onto the ship. Another masked man grabbed her from behind. She swiftly kicked him in the groin, turning around and yelling, "Expelliarmus!" The man's wand gone, she finished him off with a quick stupefy, and continued forward.

It was then that she saw Stephen Schwarz collapse onto the ground, a tall male figure heartlessly looming over him. An echo of the word "Crucio" still hung in the chilled air, and it was upon the curse's utterance into her wet ears that Natasha bore a terrifying scowl. She seethingly pointed her wand right at the masked man's heart.

"REDUCTO!"

With a huge blast of blue light, the man flew far past the deck of the ship, giving a distant shriek as he landed head-first into the depths of the black ocean below.

Natasha then ran towards Stephen, crouching over his motionless body. "Stephen wake up!" she shook him, inhaling and exhaling the air so fast, that she was starting to choke. "Stephen, PLEASE WAKE UP!!"

"You go," said a calm voice above her, "I'll take care of him."

She looked up to find Gideon Caulfield peering down at her with slanted eyes. She didn't completely trust him with Stephen, but with the chaos that surrounded them, what choice did she have?

Giving him a curt nod, she got up to her feet, watching him effortlessly pick up the Ferres boy and swing his body over his broad shoulder. Natasha then sprinted towards the beach, hoping to clear out the area for innocent first years trying to escape the quarrel.

That's when a dark figure sprung out from the depths of the water below, pushing Natasha back onto the sand.

She looked at the hooded figure and grunted. "Potrificus Totalus!" she roared, but it was no use; the closer the creature got to her, the more she felt drawn into its cold, biting breath. Suddenly, everything felt hopeless and dark, and she was losing more of her already blurred vision.

She waved her wand again, only to be met by another fearsome dementor. The stick of magical hickory wood keeping her alive then flew from her hand onto the beach as if to mock her. Slowly, Natasha could feel her entire body sink into the sand below.

"No, no, no..." she painfully whispered before the ground rose up to meet her.

Another came. And then another. Before she knew it, the whirling sensation of the dementors' powers sent her into a painful vertigo. Blackness filled her entire body. The last thing she heard before passing out was the familiar sound of a little girl screaming.




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"You just keep getting heavier and heavier, don't you..." Gideon mirthlessly mused. He laughed at his current predicament. The funniest thing about carrying a limp boy through the raging tides of war was that it wasn't funny at all. Sauntering through the battlefield as though he were invincible, the cunning Arietem made his way towards the safety of the pitch-black forest nearby. The carriages were a faster way to get to the castle, yes, but Bobby Burkinson had used his last breath trying to reach the carriages, henceforth, the carriages were a waste of time. Right now, time was the most precious thing that the terrified students possessed. Once it ran out for all of them, the school would surely be doomed.

"Periculum!" he cried, sending a wave of red sparks into the rainstorm before his body was enveloped in leafy bushes and moody pine trees. He'd have to navigate his way from the docks to the castle without the use of a road. Fortunately, Gideon knew the forest area of the island like the back of his hand. After all, his friends hid in the woods every year in order to make campfires, drink smuggled firewhiskey, and practice dark magic without the headmaster's knowing.

The farther he journeyed into the vegetation, the more distant the sounds of screams and spells became. For a moment, it was almost peaceful. Schwarz weighing practically nothing now, Gideon rose his wand and whispered, "Lumos."This created a light on the tip of his wand bright enough to see the beetles and other insects that crawled upon the moist forest floor.

At first, all Gideon could hear was the sound of raindrops pounding against the trees, as well as his shoes imprinting into the squishy mud below. And then a boom filled the air, and he turned to notice the dark mark appear throughout the sky.

The symbol was a lot bigger than he thought it would be, but ultimately less impacting than seeing it inked upon his parents' forearms. He gazed upon it impassively. It was a historical moment, as it marked the return of the notorious Death Eaters. Still, it reminded Gideon of the many classmates and friends that would feel the group's painful wrath. It was a satisfying moment for him, but not in a happy, joyful sense.

Suddenly, there was a rustling sound.

He drew his wand, gazing upon a masked figure wearing a black robe. Another Death Eater, but a straggler.

As the man drew his out his own wand, Gideon quickly unrolled his shirt sleeve, revealing a black woven bracelet with two glass charms attached to it. One was a transparent skull, the other, a full moon.

"Remember the deal..." he sultrily murmured to the man. With a sigh, the Death Eater put his wand back in his pocket, and turned back around. It was then that Gideon took the liberty to stun him by uttering a quick killing curse. The poor man went down more dramatically than Bobby Burkinson, and for a second, the Arietem found himself chuckling. He had no qualms with killing. In fact, he was used to it by now.

A few minutes later, the towering walls of the castle came into view. "Almost there..." he whispered to the boy still draped across his shoulder. Gideon checked behind him before retreating the woods and tromping up the steps of the school. Hurriedly, he knocked on the large doors, hoping he'd be able to sneak inside Magnus Grexx before the rest of the Death Eaters did.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Natasha Daggerman Character Portrait: Natalie Dumonte Character Portrait: Stephen Schwarz Character Portrait: Bobby Burkinson Character Portrait: Nora Selene Gray Character Portrait: Abraham Delavergne
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”Not quite, yet,” the Texan replied, ”oh, but we're still holding our breaths. My uncle, the monsignor back home, says all the Masses in Latin under dispensation from our bishop. Some of my kinfolk refused to go to Mass until that dispensation was enforced. 'Course, there is definitely room for English... when German or Latin doesn't suffice.”.

"Quite true. I have a great deal of affection for the English language. With its patchwork of words and grammar from other languages, there isn't a language like it," the pure-blood noted. With that, he remained mostly quiet, observing the others and contributing to the conversation here and there. The cruise was pleasant and he was looking forward to another school year.

Then, an icy hand gripped his heart and everything went to hell in a hand basket. He cursed and gripped his wand as he watched helplessly as other students fell to an unholy alliance of Death Eaters and Dementors. In a split second he had to make a decision. Would he have a better chance of survival hiding somewhere in his compartment or fighting their attackers?

He calmly stepped out of his compartment and, spotting a group of Death Eaters, he thrust out his wand and softly murmured, "Flipindo Tria."

He watched with some satisfaction as the fools were knocked against the wall by a tornado of magic, losing consciousness. Honestly, it was a third year spell. He smiled charmingly at his friends.

"I really see this as an opportunity to cut loose, don't you?"

As he said that, he grimaced as a Dementor flew towards him. He had not yet fully mastered the Patronus Charm. It took great effort for him to produce a corpeal one.. Quickly, he drew circles in thin air with his wand.

"Expecto Patronum!"

Sure enough, a jet of white vapor erupted from his wand, halting the creature as he grinned, his patronus clearing his mind enough to allow him to regain a happier state of mind. Now then, what memory was strong enough for him to use? Ah yes, last New Year's Eve. He had not gotten any sleep that night.

"Expecto Patronum!"

Sure enough, a luminescent snake was produced by his wand. It hissed as the Dementor before lunging at it and Stephen nodded in satisfaction before he heard a familiar scream.

"Schwarz!"

He ran towards the scream and spotted his classmate and the perpetrator, his mask hiding his expression, but Stephen could tell he was enjoying torturing the boy. He gripped his wand before making a slashing motion, casting the first spell that came to mind.

"Sectumsepra!"

Stephen watched coldly as his spell made a large cut across the man's chest. He cursed when he heard a scream. Okay, it was time to lose the bravado.

"Stephen is not physically injured, but he's not getting up anytime soon," he murmured to the group, not caring in the slightest what they thought of his using a dark spell to leave a man to bleed out. He was not going to think about it now. He stepped down the hall and his heart clenched. He hadn't known Bobby well, but he didn't deserve to die.

"We can give him his last rites later. For now, we can make his enemies suffer greatly before they die."