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Reply Annalise Fleur Watson (October 17, 2043 - Present)
Lucian Formats

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Trickblues

Captain

PostPosted: Mon Jan 17, 2022 8:04 pm


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He took a step, but then felt tired
He said, "I'll rest a little while"
But when he tried to walk again
He wasn't a child
And all the people hurried past
Real fast and no one ever smiled

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Halfblood | Metamorphmagus | Unsorted First Year | Eleven Years Old
Insert | Clubs | Here
WHEN LOCATION With: Students and Faculty
Wearing: School Robes Status: "Is Magical Clothing Cruelty a thing...?"

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Yer post is gonna go here. Words. Descriptions. Let us know what your character is thinking and feeling. Let us know what's going on with their senses. Put yourself in their shoes. "Oh, and sometimes your character will say stuff. That'll go here," they say. And then maybe you'll say why they said that, or how they felt as they said that. 'Thinking is also good.' Anyone ever tell you to think before you speak? Exactly.


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OOC:
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Blue lips
Blue veins
Blue, the color of our planet from far, far away
Blue lips
Blue veins
Blue, the color of our planet from far, far away
PostPosted: Mon Jun 06, 2022 12:10 pm


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I'm calling you from the future
To let you know we've made a mistake
There's a fog from the past that's giving me, giving me such a headache
And I'm back with a madness
I'm a champion of the people who don't believe in champions
I got nothing but dreams inside, I got nothing but dreams

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Pureblood | Parselmouth | Unsorted First Year | Eleven Years Old
September 1, 2056 Great Hall - Sorting Feast With: Students and Faculty
Wearing: School Robes Status: "I can’t believe she was serious about the talking hat.”

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It was a strange feeling, leaving home for the first time. A thousand thoughts rushed through Lucian's head that morning as he struggled to wake his mother in time for her to get ready to take him to the station. Her ever-changing hair was purple as a bouquet of violets as she groggily brushed her teeth in the kitchen sink, recovering from last night's hangover. Lucian passed her a chipped mug of coffee--extra strong--as he finished scrambling two plates worth of eggs. The toaster dinged, and Wynne plucked the crisp slices for each of their plates before retreating to the table with her liquid energy.

"What will it be like?" He asked that morning over breakfast. "The sorting, I mean. How does it work?" He waited until his mum's hair tinged its familiar olive hue; a sign she was getting back to her usual self.

Wynne clacked her mug on the table, held loosely in both hands. The old wooden table wobbled at the action, one leg just an inch too short. Her smile was lazy, as if she still wasn't quite awake. "So there's this hat," she told him. "They put it on your head, and it tells you where you'll go."

"A hat." Luci echoed, bemused. "A talking hat?"

"A talking hat." Wynne nodded, with the wisdom of an old sage.

Clearly she had more to drink last night than he thought.

Lucian poked his fork at his plate with a sigh. There was so much to worry about, leaving home for such a long time. He would barely have time to do the dishes before they were off. What state would their flat be when he returned for Christmas? Would his mother be okay on her own? Someone needed to look out for her--she could barely get to work on time most days. It certainly wouldn't be his father, who promised to be home to see him off. It was no surprise when he never showed. "Duty calls, after all," or so he'd been told on the phone the night before. "Azkaban isn't going to guard itself."

"Luci? Sweetie?"

'As if there aren't plenty of other guards patrolling those halls,' He thought bitterly, clutching his fork tighter in his hand.

"Lucian," Wynne called again. Lucian's head snapped up in attention. "You're looking positively peach!"

With a frown he pinched a lock of his bangs between his fingers. Sure enough, the strands had turned to a shade akin to a creamsicle. "Sorry..." He uttered, closing his eyes and taking slow breaths like Wynne showed him before. In, out... In, out... When he opened his eyes again, the stress he had felt faded to calm, and his hair back to blue.

There were second thoughts come time of the Hogwarts Express's final call. Wynne knelt in front of him and took his hands in hers, her smile kind. "Don't you worry about me," She reassured him, making him wonder if she could read his mind. "I can look after myself just as well as you can, my little grown-up. Go and have a good time, okay? Learn some things. Make some friends. Have some fun." She let go and Lucian thought that was that, but as he took a step back he found himself dragged right into his mother's arms, squeezed as tightly as the woman could manage. "Oh, I'm going to miss you sooooo much, Luci-Lu!"

"M-Mum, please, I can't--I can't breathe!"

When they finally parted, Lucian boarded the Hogwarts Express with a smile.

The train ride went by in a blur. He sat with a group of kids his age. He ate the sandwich he packed while others snacked on sweets from the treat cart. Idle conversation was made, and Lucian was perfectly friendly, if a little distant. He didn't have many friends from his muggle school in Cardiff. How was he supposed to make new friends here? It was easier said than done.

The castle was as grand inside as it was from the outside. Five large tables filled the room, lined with upperclassmen in colored robes, teachers occupying the smallest one at the front. Candles floated over their heads, providing a welcoming glow. Lucian's jaw went slack when the first of his year stepped to the front, a large hat placed atop their head. The hat called out the house, and the corresponding table cheered. He could hardly believe his mother hadn't made it up! Magic really was something else. He spent his time waiting with thoughts of what other extraordinary things he would come across, until his name was finally called--nearing the end of the alphabet, as always.

As he took his seat atop the stool, Lucian found himself wondering again. Where exactly he was sorted didn't make much difference to him. More-so, he was curious how it all worked. "How can you tell where we'll fit just by sitting up there?" He asked quietly once the hat sat on his head, as surprised as ever when it spoke. "Can you read minds as well?"


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OOC:
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And I'm back with a madness
I'm a champion of the people who don't believe in champions
I got nothing but dreams inside, I got nothing but dreams
I'm just young enough to still believe, still believe
But young enough not to know what to believe in
Young enough not to know what to believe


Trickblues

Captain

Reply
Annalise Fleur Watson (October 17, 2043 - Present)

 
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