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Post by Shendeth Potter on Nov 6, 2011 21:35:13 GMT -5
The sun was going down over the top of the trees in the Forbidden Forest, throwing the rest of the grounds into shadow. That meant it was no time for students to be out, which was why it was the perfect time to be out. Actually the boy lurking at the edge of the tree line was out because he had had detention outside after classes, but when it was over he had slipped away and lingered. Why? Why not?
Alone was when more bitter thoughts could surface and run freely through one's head. Shendeth had rather a lot of those; he leaned silently against a tree, very long, silky black hair and dark clothes blending in with the creeping night behind him. How ironically perfect, for such a nonconformist to fit a stereotype and be in this scene. He walked forward, out towards the stone circle, but still underneath the outer twigs of a large, overhanging tree. More silence, then a blackbird fluttered down from the sky and landed delicately above his head.
Everything was always above his head, wasn't it? A height that was distinctly closer to five feet than six did not usually match that of the wand he drew out of his pocket, letting the setting sun's ray gleam off the dark wood finish before pointing it upwards along with the channel of negative thoughts and feelings. Ever since he had learned the particular spell, he had sought to be able to do it, and did in practice. The bird's head tilted down as he moved, but could not know enough to stop. "Avada Kedavra." And the lifeless form landed neatly between the Slytherin's feet.
Looking thoughtfully down into its blank eyes, he was overcome by a humorless urge to laugh. At least he could see how silly this really was.. Shame nothing could be done, and that he couldn't actually get to use the spell against something.. bigger.
It was when another minute had passed that he noticed the sound of footsteps in the distance, and he straightened up, face falling into its usual expressionlessness. I'm not crazy, I swear. Well... |
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Post by Emiliya Draganov on Nov 7, 2011 0:43:39 GMT -5
It was cool, but nothing like the way the twilight could bite almost worse than night back in Bulgaria. As such, the tall, almost six-foot, redhead had shed the fur outer robes of her school uniform, and simply wore the dark dress shirt, trousers, and dress shoes. She didn't wear the girls' uniform because she was altogether too tall and too skinny for it; in fact, when wearing anything even slightly feminine, she had been asked why she was impersonating a woman. She had merely shrugged the comments off, as they were less biting than the ones aimed at her half-English blood.
As to why she wore not the Hogwarts uniform... Well, that would come later, as she wasn't technically a student here yet. She, too, perhaps would have blended with the shadows, but for her extremely pale hands, neck, and face being exposed, along with her hair, which seemed to want to be a dark maroon/auburn this evening. Well, that, and the medium-sized silver cross she wore glinted in the last light from the sun, also diffusing her blending with the shadows around her. Upon arriving at the stone circle, she checked her step, surprised to find someone else here at this time of evening.
She looked the other up and down, her surprise hidden behind her usual blank mask. Well, it seemed she wasn't the only one with an ambiguous appearance, if this feminine-looking male was any indication...There was also a nagging voice at the back of her mind which told her his features should have been familiar to her, and yet she couldn't place why this was. As the thought was currently irrelevant, Emiliya put it from her mind; she didn't need such thoughts cluttering her mind, should she need to act at a moment's notice.
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Post by Shendeth Potter on Nov 7, 2011 19:09:33 GMT -5
Shendeth turned around, doing nothing for the moment except watching the stranger approach. The most obvious thing to notice first was her height, and that it was indeed a her despite her uniform. Durmstrang. That part was just fine; while he had little to no care for the tournament, the people from that school in particular sometimes seemed interesting. Due to the lack of light, it was only as the girl got closer that he was able to clearly distinguish her features. It struck him that, while he was pretty sure they had never met, her red hair and face were not as unfamiliar as their owner. Of course, this should be just a coincidence, but did not entirely slide from his attention all the same.
For a moment they just stood there in silence. It was, after all, peculiar to meet someone here, in this setting. The tall girl did not look like a happy person, but neither was he. Too happy people were quite annoying, actually. Shendeth did not know how she would react if he tried to talk to her, but first glance gave him no reason not to; more of the opposite, and it wasn't like he had anything else to do. "Hello." he said without any particular emotion. He had a much harder and lower voice than one might expect, but otherwise was not particularly distinctive. After a short hesitation, he continued with lack of anything else to say; "I'm Shendeth. Who are you?" |
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Post by Emiliya Draganov on Nov 7, 2011 20:32:15 GMT -5
Yes, most definitely a boy - the voice, and rather obviously the uniform confirmed it. A Hogwarts, Slytherin boy at that. The tall redhead resisted the impulse to narrow her eyes. Her letters had said her father was Head of Slytherin House. Interesting, that she should meet a member of that House like this, then. Of course, thenshe realized why this boy looked familiar to her. After all, her mother had always told her she looked almost exactly like her father, save that she had inherited her hair color - when it was behaving - from the woman herself. A bittersweet taste was left by that remembrances. After all, her mother had been dead since last May, and she had barely received four letters from her father in her fifteen years of life.
And then she was snapped back to reality, when the boy spoke more. So Shendeth was his name. It sounded... Almost Irish, she thought. Wait, he would expect an answer, wouldn't he? She hoped her expression didn't give away the fact that she was feeling uncomfortable now. She hadn't spoken since she learned of her mother's death, and she really didn't intend to start now. So, shattering her blank mask, she forced a small smile onto her lips, before raising a thin, pale hand to her face. Gently brushing her first few fingers over her lips, she forced herself to continue smiling just slightly until she had shaken her head. This motion completed, her hand dropped to her side again, and her smile slowly returned to her expressionless look.
She hoped the boy whom looked a good deal like herself - thus indicating that he was in some way related to her father - would understand what her meaning had been. And then she wondered why she cared. She came to the conclusion that she didn’t know why, but that she did. Some part of herself wanted him to understand, though again, she couldn’t really understand why. She had just met him, she knew nothing about him. And yet, though she still couldn’t wrap her mind around the reasons for it needing to be so…
It seemed almost imperative that he understand.
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Post by Shendeth Potter on Nov 8, 2011 7:10:14 GMT -5
He understood, or at least thought he did, the meaning of the gesture just fine. She couldn't- or wouldn't- talk. Shendeth nodded slightly to show this. As a reaction he didn't say anything else either, though this situation was inwardly a little uncomfortable since, albiet sometimes described as a person of few words himself, he wouldn't know what to do next. However, he didn't walk away. This new aspect made the stranger even more curious. Even though she was not going to give it, it made him want an answer to his question even more.
Shendeth also knew exactly who she looked like. Or maybe the opposite thereof. He did look more than a bit like his father, but was not the mirror image. The only physical trait he had inherited solely from that side was his hair color. Most everything else was halfway between, like his eyes, or more from his mother. He had something of the shape of his father's nose, but not the size or length, so it looked a bit pushed in; though overall, he had gotten Lily's good looks. Thankfully so; he already stood out conspicously, and did not want to look like anyone.
He looked curiously up at the girl from Durmstrang for a second, then took a few steps closer to her. No, he couldn't give up yet. "Can you write?" he asked in more of a whisper, wondering if she understood him. |
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Post by Emiliya Draganov on Nov 8, 2011 22:21:39 GMT -5
The slight upwards tug of her lips was back, though this time it wasn't forced in the least. This boy was quite smart, she would give him that, though she still couldn't figure out why she cared all of a sudden. It was as if... Something... Some part of her knew whom this boy was, even though she had only just met him in the flesh. It was odd and strange, to say the last, and so she filed it away for later consideration. Slipping her wand from her sleeve - the black wood was said to be hard as iron, while the wand itself was fifteen and a half inches - she conjured a pad of parchment and a quill (which she made sure wouldn't run out of ink, which would have just been plain annoying).
Though the small smile was gone, the redhead's expression was what one might call content. Quickly, she wrote out her answer. "It's nice to meet you. I'm Emiliya."By this point, however, she was a bit unsure of what to do. Should she simply show him what she had written? O should she hand him the parchment? A bit unsure, she bit the inside of her bottom lip, thinking hard. She didn't want to come off as stupid or anything, but she really didn't know what to do. And then she wondered how Shendeth would react o her obvious nervousness, or, what she perceived as obvious.
Trying to calm herself, she looked to the black-haired boy, her expression a bit sheepish.
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Post by Shendeth Potter on Nov 9, 2011 20:53:18 GMT -5
There was silence as he watched her conjure writing materials and scribble down her answer. However, when she just looked at him instead of holding up the paper he didn't know why. It seemed the obvious thing to do; unless she didn't want him to, he was fine with replying to her aloud, so there was no reason to give him the paper or do anything else with it. Unless of course she was hesitant about what she had written.
"What?" Instead of waiting for her, Shendeth simply stood up on his toes a little to read the note upside-down. He was a good and very practiced liar, but tended to be straightforward when he had something to say or wanted an answer from someone. It turned out that the note was perfectly ordinary, and not containing any real answer; only a name, or half of one, to call her by. Rather than make her any more uncomfortable he decided to just ignore her sheepishness. Emiliya was too much of a mystery to be judged yet.
Shendeth wanted to ask her why she couldn't talk but remembered in time that that could be considered rude; something he normally did not care about at all. For the moment she was an exception to this though, as instinct told him she might turn out to be a person he did not want to push away right now. So instead he decided to just continue as if they were having a normal conversation and see what happened. "So.. Emiliya, what are you doing here?" That could be interpreted any way. |
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Post by Emiliya Draganov on Dec 24, 2011 14:26:42 GMT -5
The redhead blushed; oh, it seemed she's done what she wanted to avoid... Well, anyways, she supposed she could rectify that... Quickly writing a reply, she handed over the parchment this time, not wanting to repeat her past mistake. She could figure out why she cared in the first place later. "My school is here for the Tournament, but I get the feeling that's not what you meant, was it?" She smirked a bit, her writing continuing form that pint.
"I myself am here because my only living family is here; my mother died at the end of last year, and so I've been sent here to be placed in my father's care... Is it possible you know him...? Mother told me he is called Severus Snape, but... I'm not sure, sine he's only ever sent me a letter or two since we both discovered one another's existence..." She knew she was babbling, and so had sopped writing there, her blush flaring up once more. She didn't want to seem like a chatter box, but she tended to speak more than she wanted when she was nervous.
She made a slightly lame, shrug-like gesture which she hoped communicated that...
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Post by Shendeth Potter on Dec 25, 2011 11:57:19 GMT -5
He didn't really blame her for being nervous; this was pretty strange, and he wondered if she wasn't used to doing this after all. Still, trying not to make things any more awkward, Shendeth took the longer note from her. He narrowed his eyes just slightly as he started to read; no, the Tournament was not exactly what he meant. That part was obvious. Why Emiliya herself was there was more of the question, as she continued on about, although it was only after he had finished reading the note that he knew why he cared. It sounded like the start of just another sob story, until.. the breath caught in his throat a little as he stopped at the name 'Severus Snape.' He narrowed his eyes further as he continued reading, then looked back up at her.
"Your father is called Severus Snape?"
It was not much of a question since that was what the note clearly said. This was not a trick, either; now that he looked and made the connection, she did look just like him, and nobody knew nor cared who Shen's real father was. And well, of course Severus Snape would have been with other people besides Mum. It had been foolish to assume he had no other family just because he never mentioned any. Shendeth read the note again quickly. Sending only a few letters, that sure sounded like his father. Huh. And so he voiced aloud the once secret to an almost stranger.
"Well, it looks like I don't really know him. But I'd think I know of him.. he's my father." |
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