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 Posted: Tue May 24, 2011 9:56 am
 The Teachers Lounge in Hogwarts, is in a secret location, which only the teachers (and perhaps a few ghosts) are privy to. It is lavish enough, and well stocked. Here, the teachers have been asked to gather for their usual gathering before the start of the new year. This is more of a formality than anything, a happy time to socialize and welcome any new instructors. No business is discussed here.
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Posted: Tue May 24, 2011 1:06 pm
I want it all, and I want it right now! E v i l , xi n xt h e xf i r s t xd e g r e e , xB u t xy o u xs t i l l xs m i l e xa n d xw e l c o m e xm eeew ██████████████████████████████████████ ▌ew bloodsuckers. Nasty. Dx I'll bite your neck, you'll make what's left of me shiver
The first day of school was never easy, especially as a student. Eckhart had always struggled, socially, on the first days of school. Inevitably he adjusted, made friends and reunited with old ones, and life went on. Still, that 'first day' nausea always affected him, even now, when he wasn't even a student, but one of the teachers. Hogwarts Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor blinked at himself in the mirror, tying his sleek black hair back into a ponytail with a dark red ribbon. The pale face stared back at him from its reflective surface with dark eyes and a worried look painting his features. Any other mirror in the school would have been empty. After all, vampires didn't have reflections. But, after a great deal of fiddling and tinkering, Eckhart had finally managed to enchant one so that it would reflect him. Of course, now the mirror refused to reflect anyone else. But by these means, he was able to stare at his own worried frown, clearly laced with anxiety. He knew that it was ridiculous. He was a teacher, after all! He'd been working with the Hogwarts staff for some time now. He knew most all of them by name, and he was only afraid of a few of them. He didn't need to fear the students, either. So why was he nervous anyway? It must have been conditioning, he supposed. Taking a deep breath, he donned his formal, black robes and brushed his bangs out of his face. Despite having showered less than ten minutes ago, his hair was still greasy in appearance. He exited his room, striding down the smaller, less-used corridors of Hogwarts in order to avoid speaking to any of the other instructors just yet. He needed to clear his head. As he made his way to the grande staircases, he passed by the potrait of Severus Snape. As per usual the painting huffed at him, wrinkling his abnormally large nose in disgust. Eckhart paused for a moment, frowning slightly back at the potrait. Snape always leered at him in that way. He knew, that his potrait was there because he was honored as a hero of the second wizarding war, but honestly, did he have to be such a distainful picture? Eckhart crossed his arms, trying not to look perturbed.
"You don't like me much, do you?" The picture of Snape merely scoffed. "Whatever would give you that idea?" it replied. Eckhart couldn't tell if the painting was being serious or sarcastic. Rolling his eyes, the vampire decided to dismiss it and head on his way. He had more important things to worry about than a finicky painting. He continued to wander about the school, occasionally nodding his head at friendlier paintings, and weaving his way through the smaller corridors and, eventually, into the larger ones. He found himself outside the doors of the great hall, and took a moment to pause, peering around the edge of the giant doors leading in. It was empty, of course. Candles were lit and floating, and although the tables were bare, they would soon be heavy with food and the hall filled with the noisy chattering of students. Eckhart almost smiled at the thought, but the rolling bile in his stomach prevented him. Oh, he should have eaten. Not that he'd been neglecting to do so! What sort of fool would he be, to not be full on the first day? Surrounded with teachers and students, all unaware.... no no. He wasn't hungry. But he was nervous. And when he was nervous, he needed a little extra something to calm him down. But, alas, he'd already drank half his supply for that month. Maybe one of the other instructors would lend him a hand..... probably not.
After meandering about the school and dodging around the ghosts and one or two other professors wandering and clearing their thoughts, Eckhart reluctantly decided that it was time for him to go to the Teachers Lounge. It wasn't required that he go, officially. But it would certainly be rude of him not to. And he didn't want to start the year off that way. He withdrew a little dinged up pocketwatch and glanced at the time. Despite feeling as though he'd woken late and wandered for quite a long time, he was still early. Ah, well. Someone had to get there first. Stuffing the watch back into his long robes, the professor strode down the hallways. He was forced to wait for several minutes in the staircase, as it had decided to move itself to a different floor again. This made things very difficult for poor Eckhart, who then found himself running up and down staircases trying to get back to his original point and onto the floor that he wanted. Of course, by the end of this excursion, Eckhart was a little more disheveled and a lot more frustrated and nauseous. He would have been out of breath, if he'd needed to breathe. But, having finally gotten himself to the appropriate floor, Eckhart tried to smooth his hair back again (as best as he could), straightened his robes and started off to the teachers lounge. Upon arriving at the door of the teachers lounge, located off in a small, obscure corridor that went largely unnoticed by all but the most curious of students, Eckhart paused again, taking a deep breath of unneeded air. Why, why was he nervous? Every year it was the same thing... Eckhart told himself that, like all the years before, it would pass. Hell, it would probably go away as soon as he started talking with the other instructors. By nightfall, he'd be perfectly comfortable again. So saying, he twisted the little brass knob on the door and stepped inside.
The lounge was lavishly decorated, although, in actuality, rather humble by means of furniture. There was something akin to a little bar, a few opulent chairs and loveseats, and a large curtained window which allowed ample sunlight in. Eckhart winced, slightly, at how bright the light was, even filtered through the curtains, and opted to stay away from that wall of the room. He drifted about, being the only one in the room, at that point. Soon enough, his gaze landed upon (what appeared to be) a wine glass filled to the brim with something dark red. It was resting on a small little table stand, and sitting by its base was a little note. Upon it, the gold seal of the headmaster. Curious, Eckhart glanced about and, finding that he was indeed the only one there at the moment, inched over to the glass. One whiff was enough for him to know exactly what was in the glass. Surprised, he quickly scooped up the note. In elegant script was the following message;
Professor Eckhart,
I thought you might need this to keep a handle on those nerves of yours. Enjoy, and stay calm. You're a leader, now. Not a follower any longer.
xxxxxxxxxxxx xx -Sincerely,
xxxxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxx The Headmaster
With a sigh, Eckhart smiled. The Headmaster was an odd fellow, to be certain. He was an intimidating man, from Eckharts one or two brief meetings with him. He could be stern, and almost seem heartless at times. But other times, he was kind, attentive, even fatherly. A strange, strange sort. In any case, Eckhart was grateful for his attentiveness this time. Raising the glass to his lips, he sipped on the warm liquid carefully, so as not to let it splash against his pale skin, or slide anywhere except between his sharp teeth. Nothing was more off-putting than a vampire with blood on his lips in a casual setting. The glass must not have been sitting there for too long, as the blood was relatively fresh... fresh enough to still be sort of warm, and not coagulated despite being in a glass cup. Vaguely, he wondered where the headmaster had gotten this supply from, but decided that this was something he best not ponder too deeply. He drank the glass halfway down before stopping, lowering himself into one of the poofy chairs next to the table stand and keeping the wine glass on hand. It would be pretty awful if someone mistook the drink and tried to take a swig of it. Crossing his legs, he leaned back in the chair, keeping his eyes on the door for... well, whoever decided to join in next.
Eckhart made no effort to hide the blood. Sure, he didn't want bloodstains on his lips, but the fact that he was a vampire was public knowledge. Unlike, say, werewolves, vampires were known to have control over their urges, and were thus more commonly accepted in human wizarding society. While having a vampire professor might cause a few eyebrows to raise, he was really in no danger of being forced from his job for it.And it was, apparently, the headmasters opinion that it was better to be honest about his species. The only ones in the school who were ever shocked by his unbeating heart and long fangs were first years and, lets face it, most everything about Hogwarts shocked them.
B e f o r e xi t xs w a l l o w s xy o u xa s xw e l l xa s xm eNowadays, I cannot find her.
██████████████████████████
I have to beg you to let go If you don't [ G O ] then
Y o u ' r e xxg o n n a xxDie.
Going xd o w nx with the xg h o s tx of a [ M A N ]
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Posted: Tue May 24, 2011 10:45 pm
This right here is aWe are not permitted to choose the [ frame ] of our destiny... ████████████████████████ █ █ █████ █ █ ████████████████████████super awesome quote, right? herp derpBut what we put [ into ] it is o u r s. A dark clawing noise woke the Russian mix from what could only be called a light slumber. He looked around the unfamiliar, yet familiar all the same, room blearily, mentally noting that the full moon would appear soon enough and that he was rather low on his life support. His auditory hallucinations concerning the terrible event became louder as the moon waxed, like a dog scratching at the door to come in. Varic glumly sat up from his bed, whatever covers he may have had were long gone and he sat there in his boxers contemplating whether or not he should shave his week old travel beard. His mental consensus was a why bother considering the damn thing would just grow back at a ridiculously quick pace in the next week or so. He scratched at it and flopped off the bed, snapping his fingers at his large oak chest to open so he could rummage through it for something relatively presentable to wear. It didn't matter what the weather was, Varic was always ridiculously warm, and today was no exception. As far as he knew though, it wouldn't be imperative that he put on something dress code related until twilight and so he threw on one of his classic black t-shirts and a pair of denim shorts. He stretched out his back and legs before putting on any shoes. It had been awhile since the late Gryffindor had slept in anything close to a real bed, his tent only filled with a small cot, and he found himself to be more tense and uncomfortable than ever.
The Gryffindor cracked his neck, sighing in relief as some tension went away. "дерьмoooo,*" he muttered under his breath, cracking his back one final time before deciding that just standing around wouldn't do him any good. He shuffled his way into the bathroom, grimacing at his ridiculous dirty blonde hair in the mirror. The Gryffindor tried to comb it through with his fingers, but gave up on the monstrosity deciding it wasn't worth the trouble. Only then did he realize, staring at himself in the mirror, that he had absolutely no idea where the teacher's lounge was. After his graduation, almost eight years ago now, Varic hadn't actually been back to Hogwarts, and during his time there it wasn't like the lounge was somewhere he was supposed to go. He shrugged the thought away though, knowing the stairs would eventually bring him where he needed to be. How long it would take him to get there is a whole other story though. Quickly, he shuffled back to his room, Varic grabbed a chunk of pine he had been carving, and hooked his knife to his shorts. Vari didn't go anywhere without his knife. When you're traveling through the forests of Asia, sometimes it's quicker to just pull out a very sharp blade than to shout out a stunning spell that may or may not even have an affect on the charging beast. And it wasn't like anything ever went to waste, the werewolf had an addiction to rare meat of any kind, but he was always quick to check his book on magical beasts to make sure that they were not poisonous. He'd made that mistake before and it hadn't been pretty. Lastly, he hastily grabbed his wand, shoving it in the pocket opposite of his knife. His wand was, unique, to say the least about it. The Chimaera scales gave it some attitude that he just did not feel like dealing with today.
With the swiftness associated with his ability to avoid just about everything, Varic quietly escaped the Gryffindor wing. For now, the young man decided to wander the halls wherever he saw fit, memories re-emerged from their slumber in his mind. Some more unpleasant than others. Specifically the loss of one of his first, and only, friends. There are two things you don't tell a pure-blood wizard. One is that neither of your parents have any magical ability. Two is that you've been a werewolf since you were barely larger than a toddler. That second one is something a werewolf really shouldn't tell anyone as they're generally looked down upon in society. It seems unfair that such an uncontrollable event could have such life altering consequences, but it's no use dwelling on the past. The only good that came of that experience was that the boy died in an unfortunate broom accident before he could tell anyone of Vari's 'condition'. He came back to this school to feel safe, but for Vari, safety is just an illusion the new moon creates.
Before long, Vari found himself staring into the dimly lit Great Hall, empty for now. The Russian-Swede wasn't easily unnerved, but he was pretty sure that something was going to wrong as soon as he started teaching, and his senses were usually right. Of course, nothing could ever go well with twenty students in a room filled with relatively toxic fumes, dangerous chemicals, and a man who had absolutely no idea what he was doing. Hell, he was only an expert because he had to be. He shoved that thought to the back of his mind, and closed the doors to the room. No point in being there yet, he wasn't even quite sure why he had bothered to go there anyways. It was probably because he just didn't feel like searching for the lounge yet, or maybe the stairs brought him there just to mess with his head. Why wouldn't semi-animate objects do that?
As Varic shut the door behind him, an all too familiar scent delicately floated into his sensitive nose. All his sense were on edge because of the upcoming full moon, and he couldn't help but let the scent overtake him. Then his brain caught up to the rest of him and a carnal growl slowly morphed it's way out of his throat. Blood. Oh how he detested that smell. He could always smell it on him, no matter how hard he scrubbed it was imbedded into his very core. The question was why. Why could he smell blood, faintly, but near by. Was someone hurt? Did he even need to worry about it? How would he explain to someone who didn't know what he was why he had even shown up if it was somewhere obscure? It didn't seem to matter what he thought though, as his legs were already moving at a pace a little to quick to be called walking and his hand was a little too close to his knife. Varic found himself at a door he didn't remember even being there before, and before he could even stop himself he slammed the door open. The resounding bang echoing in the mostly empty room.
"Ahh," he gruffed, staring less at the man in the room, and more at what he was holding. Vari didn't care why he had a glass of what must have been blood, only that he had found the origin of the scent and that he had found the lounge. The room was more lavish than he had expected and surprisingly empty of really anyone. He had already forgotten about how rather rudely he had opened the door and instead was intent upon observing this new area, stepping just far enough in to shut the door behind him. Hogwarts never ceased to amaze him when it came to rooms that most certainly were not there before. Remembering whatever sense of manners he had, the blonde turned to the other teacher and said, "Hello," explaining nothing. Varic then sat down in a ridiculously intricate chair near by, intent on just working on his wood carving until conversation became necessary.
(* der'mo = s**t)
To say that P o t i o n s are my life would be an understatement.
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Posted: Sat May 28, 2011 1:50 pm
I want it all, and I want it right now! E v i l , xi n xt h e xf i r s t xd e g r e e , xB u t xy o u xs t i l l xs m i l e xa n d xw e l c o m e xm eeew ██████████████████████████████████████ ▌ew bloodsuckers. Nasty. Dx I'll bite your neck, you'll make what's left of me shiver
Eckhart heard the man approaching before he got to the door, and it made him sit up a little straighter. The footfalls were quick and heavy, echoing loudly enough in the stone corridors. They drew closer quickly, and Eckhart had to take another nervous sip from his glass. Whoever was coming wasn't someone he was familiar with, by the sounds of it. And they were large in stature, rushing up to the door. He shuddered a little bit, but reminded himself that whatever was coming was likely A) another teacher, and however scary they were, they were equals, and furthermore adults. He didn't need to worry over it. B) An early student, in which case Eckhart needed only determine why they had arrived so early and sort things out. Again, nothing to be afraid of. In the absolute worst case scenario, C), it was a crazed vampire hunter who'd tracked him down and was currently charging in through the door to kill him. In which case, he reminded himself, he was one of the best duelists in the building. But, for some reason, this didn't terrify him any less. Fortunately, his answer came charging through the door with a loud 'bang' and not carrying some enchanted crossbow to point at his throat. Had Eckhart not been busy jumping in surprise at the loud noise and staring with wide, dark eyes at this stranger, he might have sighed in relief. As it were, the man before him was unarmed, although he certainly was big. Then again, most every adult seemed big to Eckhart, who still had the body of a teen. The man paused, staring rather pointedly at the goblet of blood sitting in Eckharts hand. The vampire felt suddenly rather put on the spot, averting his eyes and squirming uncomfortably until the stranger finally stepped in and closed the door, offering little more than a quick 'hello' before sitting down and whipping out a piece of wood to carve out.
Eckhart wondered what he ought to do in this situation. He frowned, staring down into his depleted glass, muttering a quiet "Good morning." in response. For a time, there was an uncomfortable silence. The man didn't seem intent on talking, so perhaps he ought to let him be. Then again, the silence was so uncomfortable, and it might have been the blood which startled the man into silence. If he was unaware of Eckharts.... origins, then the predicament would certainly be a surprising or confusing one. And while his status as a vampire wasn't a secret, it wasn't something that was largely advertised either. Wouldn't it be better to clear things up? Or at least try and make friends? Yes, clearing things up sounded like an excellent idea. He lifted his gaze to smile warily at the new professor.
"This is your first year as an instructor here, correct?" That was a polite way to start up a conversation with a complete stranger, right? Taking a leap of faith, Eckhart stood from his chair, setting the glass of blood down on the little table and striding over to the new professor, the most friendly smile he could muster on his face. Unfortunately, this kind smile usually revealed his very pronounced fangs, as it did now. But maybe he would be able to get his point across that way, rather than having to just awkwardly point out 'Oh, by the way, just so you're not freaked out later, I am a vampire.' Upon reaching the side of the elegant chair the blond was sitting in, Eckhart brushed a lock of hair from his eyes and extended a hand.
"I'm Professor Emil Eckhart, Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor. Pleased to make your acquaintance!" The vampire could only pray he didn't look like a complete idiot. He very well might. Suddenly, he was reminded of one of his lessons with his master Kain.
It had been what his master called 'vampire etiquette.' His master had a funny quirk of taking normal words and lesson subjects, sticking the word 'vampire' in front of them, and then treating them as a completely different area of study. As ridiculous as it sounded, things usually did need to be treated in an entirely new perspective when it came to dealing with, and being, a vampire. In this particular lesson, Master Kain had taught him that the most important thing among any race was first impressions. And how did you decide exactly how to present yourself? Deduce who was stronger. This was rather cut and dry in vampire society. Among wizards, obviously, things were pretty different, and even when the one who was 'stronger' was established, you couldn't just start ordering them around and treating them like dirt. That wasn't how polite society worked. Emil brushed the memory away, hoping the new professor hadn't caught that odd look he'd gotten in his eyes for a moment. The last thing he needed was for the very large, intimidating blond to think was that Eckhart was sizing him up.
B e f o r e xi t xs w a l l o w s xy o u xa s xw e l l xa s xm eNowadays, I cannot find her.
██████████████████████████
I have to beg you to let go If you don't [ G O ] then
Y o u ' r e xxg o n n a xxDie.
Going xd o w nx with the xg h o s tx of a [ M A N ]
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Posted: Sun May 29, 2011 12:40 am
This right here is aWe are not permitted to choose the [ frame ] of our destiny... ████████████████████████ █ █ █████ █ █ ████████████████████████super awesome quote, right? herp derpBut what we put [ into ] it is o u r s. Varic hated small talk. He found it to be one of the most useless, redundantly, inane thing anyone could ever do. Too bad his definition of small talk was all spoken words. However, he found that almost everyone participated in the act. It was apparently some sort of ritual related to common courtesy, but that didn't mean he couldn't hate it to his heart's content. Too bad his heart was never content. Unfortunately, he felt sort of bad for the Professor he had startled, at least who he assumed was a Professor considering this was a teacher's lounge, and decided that it was probably in his best interest to not offend the first person he had met in the entire school on his very first day. He'd already gone through that experience and it really hadn't worked out well for anyone. The knife slipped in his hands, slicing off the head of the centaur he had been in the process of carving, at the Professors rather rhetorical question. Unfortunately, as his irritation levels rose, his carving abilities dropped and he just pocketed the failed model. He stood up and sheathed his knife simultaneously, inadvertently glaring at the dark haired man while letting out a rather sharp nod of his head in agreement. That was all the other teacher was going to get out of him on that matter. Varic did not talk about himself anything further than the basics. His life before teaching at Hogwarts was out of bounds.
"Varic Vorobyov, Potions," he responded, the r's particularly rolling off his tongue today. He grabbed the Defense Against the Dark Arts hand a little bit more forcefully then previously planned, adding a rather audible slapping noise to the already strange atmosphere. He found himself more intrigued by the lack of heat coming off the man's hand than the awkward toothy grin Eckhart had given him before. Varic suddenly wondered if it was colder in this particular room than he had thought and if he was being weird again by wearing too little clothing. Self-conscious, Vari quickly shook his hand, only then noticing that the Professor probably hadn't even noticed his own inward debate as he himself was lost in thought. Instincts kicking in, he tried to stand up straighter and puff out his chest to make himself look bigger than the other male. Incidentally, Varic didn't feel like that was possible with anyone ever and cursed his genes for not making him taller.
Unfortunately, Varic had little to no interaction with vampires or vampire related literature, and no one had informed him of Emil's quirk, leaving the werewolf at a bit of a disadvantage. Not to mention he was rather terrible at reading people, so the little clues that Eckhart tried to give him were lost. Instead he pointed out that obvious, "That's blood." pointing at the glass across the room. Of course, he had intended to imply that he was questioning why it was there, as the smell was starting to irritate his already sensitive nose and it was making him hungry. Varic just assumed that poor Eckhart was just going to know exactly what he meant by this, as he assumed with everyone. This was never the case. No one ever knew what he was trying to say. Sometimes this was because of his accent, other times it was because he forgot what language he was speaking in, mostly he just leaves out what he finds to be unnecessary words or phrases. Which were all of them.
"It stinks." Varic was doomed to seem a tad slow to Eckhart. He had left a considerable pause between comments, interrupting anything Eckhart may have started saying, explained nothing that had happened in the last five minutes, and probably never would, and had glared at the vampires face the entire time he had spoken to him. He couldn't help it though, the scent was just there, having sunk into the room, and Vari just plain didn't like people. Although, he just glared at everyone, that was just his face. Their conversation had been doomed from the start and he wasn't doing anything to make it better.
To say that P o t i o n s are my life would be an understatement.
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Posted: Sun May 29, 2011 1:34 pm
I want it all, and I want it right now! E v i l , xi n xt h e xf i r s t xd e g r e e , xB u t xy o u xs t i l l xs m i l e xa n d xw e l c o m e xm eeew ██████████████████████████████████████ ▌ew bloodsuckers. Nasty. Dx I'll bite your neck, you'll make what's left of me shiver
Eckhart was immediately fascinated by Varics accent, which made itself much more apparent when he spoke more than a single word at a time. The accent was russian, although the man certainly didn't look it. Then again, Varic had a much sturdier build than Eckhart himself, who was a willowy perma-teen. But Eckhart wondered just how he came to have such a lovely accent.... had he been raised in Russia? Or perhaps his parents were russian? Looks could indeed be deceiving, Eckhart knew better than anyone. Despite being thoroughly entranced by the accent, the, Eckhart didn't fail to catch that little tidbit thrown in that the end of his name. Potions. For a moment, a small twinge of jealousy peaked at the little vampires unbeating heart. After the sudden removal of the last Potions Professor by the mysterious headmaster, Eckhart had hoped that perhaps he might have been appointed the position he'd sought out in the first place. But the headmaster had brushed off his request in one of his shadowy letters, saying that he was more skilled in Defense Against the Dark Arts than in potion making, and that his talents were best put to use in his current position. It was a true enough statement, however much Eckhart disliked it, but as soon as a replacement had been found, Eckhart had felt some resentment towards the faceless, nameless professor. He wasn't the mischievous sort, of course, and he understood that the headmaster had his reasons, and whoever it was must have needed the job, obviously, but.... well, he just couldn't help but feel a little cheated by the one whom he felt was his own replacement (despite having never actually held the position). And now, here he was, face to face with the new potions professor, who was suddenly glaring down at him and looking rather big and scary. He wasn't actually all that big, really. He just.... gave off a very good impression of being tremendously huge without actually being so. Varic had grabbed the vampires hand rather roughly (the impact even stung, a bit) and his grip was very firm, practically searing with living heat. It made Eckhart squirm uncomfortably, relieved that his hand was relinquished so quickly.
He stuck his hands in his coat pockets uncomfortably, still trying to maintain his increasingly awkward smile. There was an awkward silence. Despite being a little resentful of the man already, he did still want to be polite. Maybe they could discuss potion making? Even if he coveted the position, he still enjoyed a good discussion over it. Then again, he considered, maybe Varic wasn't too keen on talking (Eckhart had cringed as the wooden centaurs head was chopped off; maybe Varic was mad at him for that?) He fidgeted, opening his mouth to make another pathetic attempt at conversation just as the blonde pointed accusingly at his half empty glass of blood sitting on the table across the room.
"That's blood." Eckhart lifted his eyebrows, turning back to look at the glass, as if expected something to have changed for the potions professor to have pointed it out. Nope. Just a glass of blood. ...Ah, that was something pretty strange, wasn't it? Suddenly feeling rather self-conscious, Eckhart took a step back, tugging nervously on his shirt collar.
"O-oh, ah--"
"It stinks." Eckhart frowned worriedly, cringing backwards and slightly away from the man. Everything he did seemed so... angry. He really must have pissed him off. Was it because of the blood? It stank, he said?? He must have had a sensitive nose. Was that why he was so angry and forceful in every movement, every expression? The entire time, Varic had kept his eyes locked onto him, and it made Eckhart squirm like an ant under a microscope. Suddenly, he felt very panicked. What if Varic was one of those crazy vampire extremists who'd try and kill him in his sleep? Eckhart was sure he must have been better than this fellow in dueling, otherwise Varic would be the D.A.D.A. instructor and he would have been given the potions position he'd wanted, but what if he caught him off guard? Eckhart shuddered a bit, but did his best to keep his composure, running a hand through his greasy hair nervously.
"O-oh, right! O-of course, sorry. Uh, here..." Eckhart crossed the room again, away from Varic and over to his glass. He promptly picked it up, pressed it to his lips, tilted his head back and drained the whole thing in one gulp. It was the fastest way he knew of to get rid of it. Of course there was a dark red layer clinging to the glass, but Eckhart expertly withdrew a handkerchief from the inside of his jacket (already blotted with a few dark brown splotches from other cleaned blood) and swiped it clean. His breath would still reek of blood, but at least the room would stink of it less.
He set the then cleaned glass back down on the table with a light 'clink!' And tucked the bloodied handkerchief back from whence it came, on the inside of his jacket. He took a quick, needless breath before turning back to face Varic, the extra blood helping him to calm his nerves again, if only a little bit. He kept his hands behind his back, and elected to stay near his chair this time, addressing Varic from across the room. "I am sorry about that. I just needed a quick pick-me-up. You know, first day and all, always stressful. Not that anything ever really goes wrong. Just nerves, you know??" He was glad that he was standing away from the man, by then. His heat was overwhelming, and uncomfortable. He felt much safer more comfortable way over there. After a pause, he realized that maybe that wasn't the best way to end his sentence... Frowning toothily, he raised up his hands
"Er, i-it's not that I always need it or anything! Really, I'm perfectly in control of myself, so you needn't worry! I promise, you can ask any of the other instructors, we've never had a problem. I mean, sure, sometimes I need a little, ah... help when my shipments arrive late, but I've never done anything without anyone's permission!" Eckhart felt very on the spot, and he hated it, particularly under the stern gaze of this hot, scary man... hot in the sense of body heat, not appearance! Although the man certainly wasn't lacking, Eckhart wasn't looking. All of a sudden, he really wanted another drink. Like an alcoholic wanted a martini, particularly when uncomfortable. He shifted his weight from one foot to another, eying Varic wearily.
Oh, he hated the first day, and earnestly wished that a distraction would present itself, and quickly.
B e f o r e xi t xs w a l l o w s xy o u xa s xw e l l xa s xm eNowadays, I cannot find her.
██████████████████████████
I have to beg you to let go If you don't [ G O ] then
Y o u ' r e xxg o n n a xxDie.
Going xd o w nx with the xg h o s tx of a [ M A N ]
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Posted: Sun May 29, 2011 4:57 pm
This right here is aWe are not permitted to choose the [ frame ] of our destiny... ████████████████████████ █ █ █████ █ █ ████████████████████████super awesome quote, right? herp derpBut what we put [ into ] it is o u r s. Varic was all the more displeased with himself as the other teacher scurried away from him. That wasn't what he had really expected the smaller man to do, and he found himself fidgeting on his feet. He really wished he had eaten something first before coming here, but he really hadn't expected to have to deal with anyone right away. Instead he was making what he felt to be a huge a** of himself. It didn't matter what Eckhart was like, everyone was going to know that the new teacher was a total weirdo and he was going to be instantly ostracized from everything. His inherent frown deepened, that wouldn't be any different from usual really, as the moment they found he was a werewolf... No, that wouldn't happen for some time right? Obviously everyone in the school would be too dense to notice that he left once monthly for days at a time on 'vacations'. Right? The thought was compartmentalized in his flustered brain as he missed what Eckhart said only to watch him chug down the glass of blood. Vari vomited a bit into his mouth and swallowed it down quickly, hoping that it hadn't been too obvious. That wasn't fair. Blood wasn't supposed to make him nauseated and hungry at the same time. But it did. His wolfish side made him love everything about fresh blood, Varic himself found it disgusting. Varic hated being Varic.
"Oh, vampire," he muttered under his breath. Why hadn't he thought of that before, there were hints everyone and Eckhart hadn't even bothered to hide it. The glass of blood, the toothy grins, the cold hands, his youthful features that just didn't seem, well, young, and an unnatural beauty. Not like Varic was thinking about that right now, oh no. No, Varic was just dense, to stuck in his own depressing little world to realize that other people had problems too. Varic didn't really know anything about vampires though. They didn't really matter to him considering he has his own 'disability' to work with. He really should have gone to make some more Wolfsbane potions before he had come here, he couldn't help the fact that it was making him worried. Oh dear, he had been staring again and not even listening to Eckhart. It didn't really seem necessary to listen anyways though as the man was just nervously ranting away. Maybe he was a being a little bit more threatening then he meant to be. He couldn't help that though, he was threatening on purpose to make people stay away from him. Accidental self-inflicted scarring just added to it.
"..sometimes I need a little, ah... help when my shipments arrive late, but I've never done anything without anyone's permission!" the vampire ended. Oh, so Varic wasn't the only one with insatiable cravings for ridiculously bloody things. Although, he wasn't quite interested in blood itself. Just thinking about it was making him feel sick again. It seemed like the deterioration of his thoughts became worse and worse every time the full moon came. Maybe it was because he had been infected for almost twenty years, or maybe he was just paranoid and it was always the same. Time starts to blur together when you can't remember a quarter of your life. At least his was only once a month, Varic could only imagine what it would be like to fight the terrors every day with no break. He mentally shuddered at the thought. He began to wonder about how a vampire even became a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. It seemed almost, counter productive, as while he knew that any being wasn't naturally evil, except for maybe werewolves in his opinion, a vampire teaching humans to kill or disarm another vampire seemed odd.
What was he supposed to say now. That life lesson Vari was supposed to have been taught about common courtesy would say that he should console the poor vampire who was mortified by him. Varic had obviously been sleeping through that. Instead he chewed on the inside of his cheek until it bled, his inner beast consoled by the flavor of blood and no longer daring Varic to attack what appeared to be competition. Competition for what? Food? Oh god, children were not food, that could get him killed, or worse. Stupid wolf. "You shouldn't be so obvious," he said, finally looking away from the vampire to stare off at a detailed painting of the Second Wizarding War on the wall. He contemplated the painting for a moment running his fingers through his dirty blonde mess before turning back to make sure Eckhart registered what he was about to say. "Some people aren't as understanding as I am."
Maybe vampires weren't looked down on as much as werewolves were. Varic didn't know. Werewolves continued to be prejudiced against even if they were mostly considered to be beings with the aid of the Wolfsbane potion, but it was likely that if students found out about his status there would be some controversy. He mentally noted not to teach his students about Wolfsbane potion the very first day in order to refuel his stock. There was always some kind of issue once someone found out, blame the werewolf for the natural death of your cattle. That happened too often. But, the headmaster seemed to believe in him, and this strange skittish vampire, and if Varic trusted one person in the world, at least more than most people, it was the headmaster. The unusual man had helped him more times than he could remember, and there were probably even more than that. He rubbed the bridge of his nose in disgust with himself. Varic really needed to calm down before he did something stupid.
To say that P o t i o n s are my life would be an understatement.
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Posted: Sat Jun 04, 2011 3:34 pm
 xxxxxxxxxxxx  Honon rose very, very early that morning. His room, as was the case with most every instructors private quarters, was off in a distant, otherwise ill-used part of the castle. Away from the hustle and bustle of classes and events, along a quiet corridor where few bothered to drift save for the occasional ghost or wanderer. The teachers rooms were separate even from one another. They were all adults, after all. They didn't need to be kept together and herded like the student body did. So when the Divinations Instructor rose, washed, dressed, and got himself something to eat as he went, he emerged from his room into a quiet, empty, peaceful hall. Then again, all of the halls in the school had been like that for a while yet. Tonight, of course, that would change, as students flooded the Great Hall and the castle lit up with their bustle and energy. Honon was excited for it. So he'd roused himself early (he always woke up around five thirty, but today he simply made sure he was on time). He was dressed, for the moment, in his long, colorful woven robes. They were the robes the people back in his home settlement wore, and he still had pride in his heritage. Sure, he hadn't been back to America in years.... not since his........ divorce. But it was still his home, no matter how many years he was gone from it. Honon strolled out of his room at a leisurely pace, munching on a bright red apple clutched in his hand. He hadn't shaved, but his beard and moustache weren't very thick. Brushing a lock of dark hair from his eyes, Honon made his way down his deserted corridor and down the long, winding path which would eventually lead him outside. He always enjoyed taking a stroll in the mornings and watching the sun rise.... which was exactly what he did.
Down a shifting flight of stairs, through a hallway which liked to change its width, passing a wall of paintings quibbling over something or other and some placing bets on the number of first years to be sorted into different houses, Honon just smiled leisurely at it all. He'd been an instructor at Hogwarts for the past several years, and the castle and its inhabitants were a familiar, comfortable environment. Hogwarts was a world unto itself, separate from the rest of the world and its problems. Here, Honon found peace and focus. Here, Honon didn't need to worry.
So, why was he worried? Underneath his peaceful smile, Honon was deeply, deeply troubled. He'd been dreaming again, lately, and he was having trouble discerning their meaning. Many of the dreams were different, but they all had a lot in common. In his dreams, the world had become a black ocean of shadow, and Hogwarts castle stood just above it, a bright beacon of light alighting one of its tallest towers. But the shadows crept up and enveloped the light. The meaning in that was pretty obvious, but Honons dreams were never so blatant. What was really going on? In another dream, just the opposite took place, and a ball of black spouted from Hogwarts door and overtook everything it touched. One of the most disturbing dreams he'd had felt scarily like an out-of-body experience, it was so real. He was at the Battle of Hogwarts (Honon himself had still been in America at that time), a frightened young student. In his gut, he knew that he wouldn't survive. But he also knew that he couldn't stand by and watch his best friends and peers be killed by these invaders. With quaking knees he'd stood from his hiding place behind some rubble felled by the attackers, along side his best friend. In his dream, he knew that the boy next to him was his best friend, they'd been like brothers from their first year. He always aspired to be like him. His friend was being courageous, true to his Gryffindor form, boldly casting spells and hexes at the attackers. Just as Honons dream self stood and began to bark a curse, a bolt of green light flashed before his eyes and he fell onto his back. When he opened his eyes, he was still alive. Shocked he'd bolted up. It took him a full five seconds to realize that his best friend hadn't moved. He was dead. He proceeded to scream and weep over his body until an explosion took his own life as well, and it wasn't until after the horrible, mangled injury and being buried in rubble, gazing up at the starry, smoke-filled sky and wondering what his parents would think that Honon woke abruptly from that dream, covered in cold sweat and eyes wide with fear. The rest of his dreams had been more symbolic, and there were lots of creatures with long teeth, and black hearts behind smiling masks. Only one thing stayed consistent - All of his dreams centered around Hogwarts.
Certainly the school had survived through some horror, but why would it be the target of further malice? What did anyone have to gain from it? There were no more prophecies, no more dark lord rising, no more chosen one battles, no nothing! The world was in a time of peace, so why was Honon so thoroughly disturbed by his dreams? Well that was simple enough to answer... his dreams always, always told the truth, much like Honon himself, even if he didn't understand what that truth was. And whatever the truth of these dreams was, it was not a pleasant one. He'd considered voicing his concerns to the headmaster... no, he knew he had to, but gaining an audience with the man was difficult, and he didn't trust anyone else with the message. Divination was a very thoroughly criticized and inaccurate art. Even amongst the magical community, few believed that the practice held any real merit (and admittedly for good reason). Bringing up such a ridiculous idea as a war erupting at Hogwarts, the safest place in the wizarding world, in a time of such widespread and fruitful peace was just absurd. No one would believe him, but at least Honon knew it. So the man kept his thoughts to himself, strolling out across the greens at sunrise, contemplating his options.
Several hours later, after wandering about the grounds for most of the day (even having gone out into the Forbidden Forest to have a brief chat with a centaur friend of his) Honon made his way back to the castle as the sun dipped lower into the sky. He'd contemplated telling his friend about his troubling dreams, but had opted against it. After all, all it would accomplish was further concern and worry. He wanted to take it up with the headmaster first and foremost. But, for the moment, he would put his thoughts elsewhere. After all, the students would be arriving that night, and he did have the teachers meeting to attend. Speaking of which... Honon turned on his heel, striding purposefully down one of the main corridors of the castle and towards another lonely, ill-used section of the school. Well.... ill-used by students, at least. There were several ways to get to the teachers lounge. Honon had always preferred the more.... interesting ones that time introduced to him. Making a left past a painting of a wizard riding a threstal (presumably) the teacher pressed his fingertips against a certain three bricks. Almost immediately the sound of grinding stone started up and the wall unfolded itself to him, revealing a long, narrow passageway lit by torches charmed to stay alight. With a pleased little smile, Honon ducked in and strode down the passageway as the bricks closed themselves behind him. Within three minutes Honon was at the end of the long stretch, and with a flick of his wand, the large, flat surface barring his way at the end of the path slid aside to allow him entry.
The flat thing blocking his way was one of the bookshelves adorning the walls of the Teachers Lounge. As it moved aside, Honon stepped through gracefully and allowed the pathway to be shut behind him. He took in the situation presented before him for a moment or two. There was Professor Eckhart, looking a little bit more tense and nervous than he usually did on the first day, warily eying a blond fellow whom Honon recognized to be one of their latest instructors. He smiled at this, feeling that perhaps he might have been diffusing a tense situation, judging by the body language and expressions on the faces of his peers.
"Good evening, gentlemen." He said calmly, striding over to one of the cabinets and producing some kind of drink from within it, presumably an alcohol of some sort. "I'm glad I'm not late, but it does look like you started the party without me." Of course his tone was calm, light, joking. He poured himself a small drink and casually made his way to the center of the room, in between Eckhart and the new fellow so as to address them both easily. For the moment, however, he inclined his head towards the blond, taking care not to make eye contact and delve into his thoughts uninvited.
"It's always nice to welcome someone new to the staff. I'm Honon Chayton Honaw, Divinations Instructor. It's a pleasure to meet you!" He lifted up his glass towards him, a friendly smile playing across his lips. "And welcome to Hogwarts!"
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Posted: Sat Jun 04, 2011 7:03 pm
The last ten years weren't exactly the most happiest, but they weren't the worst either. Grantes Le Gaia was known to always do things his own way. He traveled by plane, on a Muggle metal coffin that flew from South America and towards Bahrain where he did a little side job and traveled to Hogwarts by way of Side Along Apparition by a licensed (Ex-Licensed, to be honest) Apparition instructor whom he had the pleasure of conducting business with. It was all in his rulebook: bring a lot of guns, have everything but not need it, bring lots of ammo, and get laid every chance you get.
"Live like it's the end of the world, kid." was what he said to a daughter of a store owner in Hogsmeade. He went through the gates and was greeted with a variety of responses by the ghosts. The Bloody Baron took pleasure in glaring at him while Nearly Headless Nick (He preferred to just call him Nick as everyone else did) gave him the pleasure in briefing him about what's happened so far.
Clearly, the ancient ghost had a head full of memories and lots of student names that he remembered. Still, none of them really answered his question: where are the girls? The pretty ones who he can sleep with, that is. Apparently, the ghost wasn't accustomed to the idea of a One Night Stand. Clearly he needed a little reinvention of his persona but hey, he's over a century old, he's never going to change now.
He reached his office and room on the first floor and settled down. He dropped down his duffel bag which contained a large number of supplies and clothes... A very large number at that. He had a previous employer enchant a great deal of his bags and drawers so that they could hold a lot more than what they appeared to be. That also corresponded to a massive armory of guns, explosives and ammunition within a duffel bag, a drawer, a closet and a side table. Yes, he had a thing for hoarding these things which the wizards called 'Muggle Wands'. Sadly, they just don't understand the feeling of holding a .45 caliber in your hands and pumping the lead out in a job.
He then proceeded to the Teacher's Lounge as per the Headmaster's instruction. Like him, he had a weird sense of humor as he found a note- a water proof one at that, wrapped around his uh... You know what when he was showering after he got into his office, telling him to report to the Teacher's Lounge to 'Get to know his buddies'. Yes, the man had a weird sense of humor. Still, he held him in high regard and treated him as he would any employer: with respect and a mouth that opened only when needed. His attitude was definitely different out in the field however, as he placed minimal respect and adherence to protocols and rules as well as customs and traditions. This made him unpredictable.
The moment he went in the lounge, he immediately saw three persons. Although he wasn't a rocket scientist or a Vampire Hunter, it didn't need taking any exams to tell that the paleness and apparent boyish beauty of the professor was a vampire. Yes, it didn't need any testing at all. He could be wrong though, but he wouldn't conduct his own method of Vampire testing (tossing a clove of garlic or shooting a thigh with a silver bullet) on his first day at work. Nope. This was the time of day when you get to meet and form up with your future War Buddies.
"Evening." Grantes growled, making a small salute as he walked by to pour himself a little drink. "So, we're all gonna be buds huh? Don't worry, anyone gets out of line, I'll be sure to smack them in the head with the butt of a FAMAS."
He then shot a look at a man sitting and apparently, holding a knife... A carving one at that. Did he smell Vodka? Nope, but the person had the look of a Russian... Or maybe just an impression. Russians, according to his own little Book of Killing, were silent, men of small words that could bash their heads on hollow blocks while drinking Vodka and still laugh.
"Nice knife." he said in Russian. He had to take his chances and make some friends. The last job he did earned him quite a few enemies. He might as well make some new friends because of that.
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Posted: Mon Jun 06, 2011 3:57 pm
I want it all, and I want it right now! E v i l , xi n xt h e xf i r s t xd e g r e e , xB u t xy o u xs t i l l xs m i l e xa n d xw e l c o m e xm eeew ██████████████████████████████████████ ▌ew bloodsuckers. Nasty. Dx I'll bite your neck, you'll make what's left of me shiver
Eckhart knew that things would ease up. The first day, the first meeting... things were always awkward and uncomfortable, and he knew that he wasn't the only one who felt that way about it, either. No one really enjoyed the first day, a day of transition and upheaval. But despite knowing all of this, Eckhart still felt lonely, uncomfortable, and rather afraid of the large russian with the knife at his hip. Not that Eckhart was against a little harmless bloodletting when his lips were on the right end of it, but....
"Oh, vampire," The words were light, muttered, hardly audible, but Eckhart still winced at how he said it. Well, no, maybe it wasn't how it was said. After all, his tone wasn't harsh. It was probably how the man stared at him as he said it that bugged the vampire. His gaze was unwavering, and Eckhart squirmed beneath it. What was the man thinking? Was he disgusted? Was he sizing him up? Did he consider Eckhart dangerous? Was he trying to guess what he was thinking? Was he contemplating something? Something to lighten the mood? Or something more sinister? Good lord, why was Eckhart so worried about it!? He swallowed good and hard, tugging on his shirt collar and continuing to smile nervously. Eckhart certainly wasn't offended by his words. After all, being a vampire wasn't some cruel, terrible fate to him. It was simply.... what he was. Unlike most, becoming a vampire hadn't been a terrible event which ruined his entire life before hand and caused him continuous woe and suffering and regret. For Eckhart, being a human had never been a part of who he was. Eckhart had never been human; he'd always been a vampire. At least, for as long as he could remember. Sure, it had its drawbacks sometimes, but the way he saw it, that logic could be applied to anyone and everyone. Everyone had strengths and weaknesses, some which were trained and some which had been present from birth. No matter who, or what, someone was, they would have problems, and they would have strengths. They would be worse at some things, and better at others. Who was this guy to scoff at his lineage? Eckhart was almost ready to work himself up into being offended. However, this train of thought having taken only a split-second to race through his skull, he was cut off by what Varic said immediately after. "You shouldn't be so obvious. Some people aren't as understanding as I am." Eckhart blinked his dark eyes in surprise. Oh, that was.... mild concern, was it not? Certainly not personal or deep concern, but he was at least warning him in the apparent hopes of having Eckhart steer danger away from himself.
In a wash of both relief and guilt, Eckhart realized that his fear of the man had been entirely unfounded and irrational. The blood he'd recently downed rushed up to his cheeks as his strained smile finally disappeared. He lowered his gaze, quite ashamed of his internal fretting. Rubbing at his neck, he coughed lightly (a little quirk he'd been taught to do on occasion to come off as a bit more human, so as not to make others too unsettled), and began on his explanation, which he had (admittedly) voiced a few times before when others first found out.
Before he could, however, a bookcase on one side of the room slid away and out stepped none other than the tall, tan, calm Professor Honon. Eckhart sighed with relief, his smile returning, but much less strained this time. Honon was the opposite of Eckhart. He was calm, collected, tall, tan, very obviously mature (Eckhart had been mistaken for a student on too many occasions to list; he was eternally teenaged, after all) and very easy-going. Without so much as missing a beat, the lofty professor had introduced himself to the intimidating Varic, poured himself a drink, and settled right in, comfy as could be. Oh how Eckhart envied that talent. His relief at seeing his old acquaintance was a short-lived one, however, as immediately following his arrival another bigger, even scarier man came in through the door, and Eckhart just about wet himself.
The newest man was tall, burly, had a serious face, wide shoulders, a deep voice, and a quick, piercing gaze. All it took was one look for Eckhart to clam up and withdraw into himself again. God, his throat was dry. Where was a young, willing virgin when you really needed one? He could really use a long, warm drink. Despite how fearsome the mans air was, his tone was friendly enough... but still terrifying.
"So, we're all gonna be buds huh? Don't worry, anyone gets out of line, I'll be sure to smack them in the head with the butt of a FAMAS." Hit them with a what??? Eckhart frowned, not liking the idea of being hit in the head with anything, much less a.... whatever a famas was. He also recoiled at his open idea of violence, towards peers and students, no less! After a brief silence and a glance back at Varic, he felt it would be rude not to give the russian blond the explanation he deserved. But he couldn't be rude to the new guy, either. With a brief nod to Honon, that nervous, strained smile appeared on Eckharts face again as he turned and waved a friendly hand toward the terrifying man who had yet to introduce himself.
"E-evening, sir. I'm Eckhart, Defense Against the Dark Arts professor." please don't kill me.
With another nervous (and unnecessary) clearing of the throat, making sure not to keep his eyes on the scary new guy for too long, he turned back to Varic.
"I appreciate your concern, but the Headmaster seems to feel that it's best not to be secretive about my.... vampirism." he hesitated, feeling rather reminded of that crazy vampire hunter by the nameless man saying something in another language to Varic. He was very much hoping that the man didn't attack him. Sure, Eckhart was the most talented duelist in the school, second only to the headmaster (at least he assumed such was the case). But that didn't mean he couldn't be afraid of huge guys three times his size. "He says that vampires are well-enough received, and lying about it wouldn't last long. It's brought about some controversy, but there have never been any incidents, and the Headmaster defends my position here well enough." And it was true, although only a seldom few had been riled up enough by having a vampire teaching their students to try and do anything about it. And those who did, eventually, just had to deal with it.
B e f o r e xi t xs w a l l o w s xy o u xa s xw e l l xa s xm eNowadays, I cannot find her.
██████████████████████████
I have to beg you to let go If you don't [ G O ] then
Y o u ' r e xxg o n n a xxDie.
Going xd o w nx with the xg h o s tx of a [ M A N ]
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Posted: Mon Jun 06, 2011 6:57 pm
This right here is aWe are not permitted to choose the [ frame ] of our destiny... ████████████████████████ █ █ █████ █ █ ████████████████████████super awesome quote, right? herp derpBut what we put [ into ] it is o u r s. Varic could only hope that he had made his point across to the vampire before another man entered the room. He couldn't help but wonder how this man had such impeccable timing. Whether that was a good thing, or a bad thing, was yet to be decided. Mostly Vari just wondered where the hell he had come from. Once again, Hogwarts had blown his mind with magical doorways that definitely hadn't been there before. It was a miracle that there weren't dead students piled up in lost hallways, but the headmaster would never allow that. Varic himself had gotten horribly lost in one of the corridors to nowhere before, only to be filled with a sudden insight in the correct path to his dorm room. Of course, instead of avoiding the mysterious ways as he should have, Vari's bizarre personality caused him to try to figure out where each and every door was so that they could be used to avoid the other students. Vari had just yet to find them all. As if the school constantly morphed when no one was watching, or maybe new headmasters changed it to their particular liking. Hell, maybe the school didn't even exist at all. Vari had no clue, and no desire to actually find out.
As the cabinet opened, Varic's nose peaked to attention again. "Is that...," he said under his breath, quickly striding to the cabinet door and looking inside. Oh hell yes it was. Now he really wished he had found this earlier. It would have made everything so much less stressful and awkward. Varic had a particularly high tolerance to alcohol, having found his parents had decided that fourteen was old enough to start learning the usefulness of alcohol. He also often looked a little bit older than he was at times and it became rather easy to come by. Vari quickly poured himself a glass of bourbon and gulped it down. Now, while it wouldn't particularly put his beast at bay, it certainly made it easier for him to ignore it, and that was always a plus in his book. "Ja..." he said before pouring another one and quickly drinking it too. With his third, he turned to eye Honon, and quickly raised his glass to him in response. Divination, eh? That was definitely not one of Vari's strong points, but some people were just plain good at it. Personally, he thought it was crock of s**t, but as long as Honon didn't go digging into Vari's life, Vari was content to interact with him. "Varic Vorobyov, Potions," he quickly introduced, already sick of saying his own name. He hated introducing himself, he hated dealing with people, he was starting to hate this room, but damn if he didn't love this alcohol. Vari wondered why he had even come to this stupid room, and hated the headmaster just a tiny bit for making this something he had to do. Becoming a teacher was a stupid idea.
Suddenly, another man entered. It was like, that was all there was in this school. Men. Not like Vari particularly cared, but that much testosterone in a room usually led to a fight. Or maybe it wouldn't. Actually, this new guy just plain looked and smelled like trouble. Particularly the scent of lead, steel, blood, and bullet residue. That only meant one thing, this man had a tendency towards guns. Varic hated guns. He had the scars to prove it. If Vari remembered anything from his terrible romps during the full moon, it was the sound of gunshots. Waking up with hole the size of a quarter in your thigh is not pleasurable. Waking up with one in your a** is even worse. He inadvertently lifted his lip and what could only be the human equivalent of a snarl. It wasn't likely they'd get along. Probably not if he talked a lot, definitely not if guns were his play thing of choice. Vari's nose didn't lie. He had come across enough strange scents in his short life to be able to tell them apart, and the one's Vari happened to hate the most, always stood out the most.
Then the man started talking. Why did everyone have to talk so much? All your supposed to do is introduce yourself and move on. Small talk was just there to drive him insane. Then the man turned to Vari and spoke in Russian. Oh, they were not going to get along at all. "Fan också*," he muttered in Swedish under his breath, finishing off what was left in his third glass, taking the bottle, and striding back to the chair he had been sitting in originally. "да**," he responded back in Russian, running his fingers down the blade. The familiarity of the knife giving him some comfort in such an uncomfortable situation. The two having been together in more than one tough situation. He shifted in his seat, the broken centaurs head rolling around in his pocket. He'd probably make that into a dice block or something. Making a perfect cube was harder than someone would think, but his thoughts about carving made him a little less nervous.
Varic turned back to Eckhart as he poured himself another glass. So it was the headmaster who said it was a good idea to just blatantly tell everyone about being a vampire? That seemed stupid. If they couldn't figure out on their own, he supposed it wasn't even worth telling them at all. Although, the headmaster had told Varic that it was okay to be a tad more open with the others, they'd understand his predicament. Hah, sure they would. It would take a whole lot more than the headmasters permission to get him to talk to anyone. Varic hated werewolves, why wouldn't everyone else? At the very least though, he could get a general understanding of vampires. "Ah, vampirism isn't my area of expertise," he mumbled, feeling rather silly, "I'm not usually so ignorant on such things." Such things, of course being his own werewolfism. Of course Vampires had been treated better, it wasn't like they went into monthly bursts of insanity where there only goal was to bite and infect others. What a terrible curse to have.
Poor Varic had spoken way too much today. He wasn't used to so much conversation with others and was already becoming sick of it. It wasn't worth the effort to try and make friends. They couldn't be trusted. People just weren't worth it. Everyone is always only out for themselves. He finished off his fourth glass, barely feeling the effects of the alcohol. His future alcoholism was going to be way to expensive if he kept this up.
(* - Damn it. ** - da -- yes)
To say that P o t i o n s are my life would be an understatement.
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Posted: Tue Jun 07, 2011 5:53 pm
"I'm guessing that wasn't Russian. Oh well. I'm Grantes Le Gaia, Muggle Studies." Grantes smiled. If it weren't for his big and utterly hopeless mouth, he would have made a lesser impression that killing came second nature to him and a greater impression that he had a Mentor trait somewhere deep down inside his twisted, gun obsessed, violently oriented, torture believing brain. Then again, when it came to Grantes, chaos always followed.
"So, what's next on the Small Talk list? Ah, right... Uh, nice to meet you all and I hope we can kill a lot of... No, that's not right." he said, pondering about what to say. This was him in real action and blabbering was his specialty. It was rumored that he could make anything die because he talked to much.
"I'll do my best to keep the weapons in the right places. Oh, what time does the feast start? I'm anxious to meet the future scumbags that we're gonna whip into shape." he smiled.
Given the nature of his former profession, he was bound to have a few screws loosened and a few safety wires on the verge of breaking from high tension. No one really expected him to be this loosened up. Not many people are openly comfortable by the thought of violence and killing. This was evident as he continued to ramble on and on about various things. Some of which are actually a bit funny and some, a bit gruesome and a few, nothing short of stomach curling, vomit inducing material.
"What? Don't look at me like that. Ever saw a guy who couldn't open his doorknob because some idiot wizard cursed the darn thing and trapped him in there until he starved to death. Didn't even try doing the windows too. Took me a week to track down the idiot. Man, if you heard him squeal. Ever had any alligator clips on your nipples and scrotum sack? Grantes torture style! On the genitals, supercharged with Nine Volt battery goodness, sure to jump start your worthless last day, haha!"
As he poured himself a drink, he looked at Mr. Vodka and could only chuckle. He was a Russian after all. Alcohol seemed to run in their veins. In all his years as a free agent, he had never come across any Russian who didn't like to drink. Perhaps it was because of the temperature in their homeland?
"So, I'm pretty new to the business. Any tips for the new guy? Counting out the fact that he should shut his mouth and all. How 'bout you, Professor Eckhart? I'm usually more of the experience type of guy. Any tips for the FNG?"
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Posted: Thu Jun 09, 2011 4:49 pm
I want it all, and I want it right now! E v i l , xi n xt h e xf i r s t xd e g r e e , xB u t xy o u xs t i l l xs m i l e xa n d xw e l c o m e xm eeew ██████████████████████████████████████ ▌ew bloodsuckers. Nasty. Dx I'll bite your neck, you'll make what's left of me shiver
Eckhart was increasingly uncomfortable and increasingly hungry. Knowing his luck, he'd go mad and latch onto Varics neck only to have the frightful Le Gaia put an arrow through his skull. Thus began, and ended, the year of Defense Against the Dark instructor Emil Engel Eckhart, at the hands of psychopath and secret vampire-hunter extremist Grantes Le Gaia. Oh, what a story. The papers would eat it up. And at Hogwarts, too. The best duelist in the entire school, taken down in one swift movement. Tsk tsk. And that was the best defense instructor they had to offer?? What was the headmaster thinking? And he was trained by who now? The Vampire Kaine? You would never have guessed it. What a wimp. He's better off dead. Amazing he survived as long as he did. You see, this is why sub-species shouldn't be allowed to teach. From now on vampires, werewolves, centaur, psiren, elf, veela, and anything else that isn't a human, is forever banned from the educational system, a political move which will inevitably end in the revoke of rights of all sub-species and spark an international magical war. And all because of that one stupid vampire who got nervous on the first day of teaching classes one year. Good job Eckhart. You ******** the world.
He knew that he was going overboard, but when asked 'what's the worse thing that could happen' Eckhart had a keen ability to get at exactly the worst thing that could happen. So this startling fellow, Grantes Le Gaia, he called himself.... was the Muggle Studies instructor?? Oh dear, muggles must have been frightful to work with, then. Eckhart vaguely heard something from Varic about vampirism and being ignorant. Well, that wasn't entirely unexpected. Eckhart turned his dark eyes downward, very clearly uncomfortable. When he spoke it was more quietly, a tone more sheepish than before.
"Ah, yes, well... n-not a lot of people know much about vampires, outside of their own society. It's not uncommon. Although I admit it is.... unusual, for one to hold a teaching position in a non-vampire establishment..." In fact, his master had been entirely against the idea. Said that, despite being raised by humans, he ought to stick to his own kind. Especially dealing with small, defenseless, blood-filled human whelps. It was a bad idea all around, he'd said. One thing in particular always struck Eckhart, although he was unsure exactly why. One day, Eckhart, your true nature will come screaming fourth. And, like it or not, it's going to conflict very heavily with the you of now. If you care now, you'd best distance yourself. Because I promise you, you won't care about them later. The phrasing had always been off. Who was 'them?' His students? His morals? His current thoughts and goals? And why was he so convinced that Eckhart was going to erupt into a crazy vampire blood-driven rage one day and go bloodsucker postal on the entire school?Was he really so convinced that being a vampire meant being a monster? He knew plenty of perfectly civilized vampire colonies, and so did his master. What was his beef? But Eckhart wasn't dwelling on that, at the moment. He was taking deep breaths, inhaling the strong, disgusting stench of alcohol, and getting his 'logical vampire' mode out of storage to calm down the very frazzled emotional Eckhart. This man wasn't a vampire or a killer. He was a perfectly civilized, normal, socially acceptable-
"So, what's next on the Small Talk list? Ah, right... Uh, nice to meet you all and I hope we can kill a lot of-" Oh god. Please don't say vampires. Please don't say vampires. Pleasedon'tsayvampires! "...No, that's not right." Eckhart felt his knees nock together and he was certain that he was going to faint. Well, that just wouldn't look good. He raised his eyes to Le Gaia sheepishly, a light frown playing over his pale lips and obvious concern in his eyes. "I'll do my best to keep the weapons in the right places. Oh, what time does the feast start? I'm anxious to meet the future scumbags that we're gonna whip into shape." Okay, his words were terrifying, but the way he said them, exactly what he was saying..... wasn't actually bad. He was just.... odd. Militant, by the sound of it. That was it, exactly! Militant! He was a military man, not a psychopath! An eccentric militant, but he was just that none the less! Having finally found a logical, reasonable, and yet believable explanation to calm himself with, he straightened up a bit, still tugging on his collar every now and then out of nervousness, but at least he could keep his chin up by then.
"What? Don't look at me like that. Ever saw a guy who couldn't open his doorknob because some idiot wizard cursed the darn thing and trapped him in there until he starved to death. Didn't even try doing the windows too. Took me a week to track down the idiot. Man, if you heard him squeal. Ever had any alligator clips on your nipples and scrotum sack? Grantes torture style! On the genitals, supercharged with Nine Volt battery goodness, sure to jump start your worthless last day, haha!"
Okay, scratch that. all of it. He was a psychopath.
As if this display wasn't enough to send the eternally teenaged vampire scurrying off to hide under his bed in his room, the terrifying man poured himself a drink, and then spoke directly to him. Eckhart, specifically, by name. Oh s**t. With a now exceedingly worried gaze, the bloodsucker shifted uncomfortably, glancing at Hono, who merely smiled and shrugged.
"So, I'm pretty new to the business. Any tips for the new guy? Counting out the fact that he should shut his mouth and all. How 'bout you, Professor Eckhart? I'm usually more of the experience type of guy. Any tips for the FNG?" More strange terminology. What in the hell was a FNG?? 'Fun new guy??' Eckhart was at a complete loss as to how to respond. Not for lack of advice, oh no. He had plenty of that. But for sheer terror. Glancing nervously from side to side, he clammed up, shrugging a bit before finally managing to squeak out,
"U-uh..... I'm p-pretty sure there is to be no killing, torturing, or maiming of any student.... or staff, without the express permission of the headmaster..... pretty sure." He sure as hell HOPED NOT.
B e f o r e xi t xs w a l l o w s xy o u xa s xw e l l xa s xm eNowadays, I cannot find her.
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I have to beg you to let go If you don't [ G O ] then
Y o u ' r e xxg o n n a xxDie.
Going xd o w nx with the xg h o s tx of a [ M A N ]
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