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Fandom Wizarding World: A T.W.I.S.T. In Time (IC)

Sub Genres
  1. Action
  2. Adventure
  3. Harry Potter
  4. Magical
  5. Realistic
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TYPE

Now what?
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TWISTnew.gif
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The rapidly forthcoming spectacle had been dancing about the minds of those chosen to partake within it for some time now. The first whispers of it nearly a year ago drew forth the apprehensive-curiosity of all the world, those of keen minds and attention at first weary and then intrigued - by the growing list of promises which flowed like some unending elixir from the United Kingdom’s Ministry of Magic - as though a generous balm to soothe over its recent bouts of strife. Questions were as if by design transfigured into deescalating foils to the past - so made by expert coverage and charmed takes - directing conversations from alarming absences to the nature of some of the rumoured events. That, and of course a touted prize as had not been seen for ages yet - and never would save the promised recursal some hundred years post this first one.

All in all, a politically, socially and academically peaked moment determined to ring through the ages much like this new Ministry hoped to revise the nature of wizarding governance within and - without its borders. Announcements then spread out over the course of months, before now - allocated as champions, the institutions deigning to accept the invitations set about escorting their prodigious progeny to their stage - Hogwarts School. Warned to pack for a MUGGLE UK Summer, for all the downpour and grey skies that might entail - students recently turned eighteen were fashioned with a number of portents - most importantly the layout of the events to come.

There would supposedly be five events in total. Each of these were to test some aspect of mage-craft and would be judged on a rated scale - points awarded by time-trial or effectiveness. The promise of extra awards for newfound, nuanced and novel magics lay littered about all of the communique, leading to instructors choosing only the best and brightest of their schools to show their worth. If nothing else the posturing of Thorne’s International Relations Office served well in stroking and firing up ego in equal amounts. These missives also came with warnings - the danger of some of these events adding a sense of gravitas to the affair that many found out of place in such a modern setting - most assuming that these ever present claims were overstated at worst, and most likely - a waiver of responsibility on the part of the Ministry.

Further there would be ‘cultural’ exchange events where the students from each school - along with the aid of their chaperones - would host a soiree for the rest of the champions, encouraging disproportionate spending and planning to show off the finer aspects of the world’s most illustrious institutions of instruction. Hogwarts would also be hosting a grande masked ball - where supposedly students would be encouraged to forget any inter-academic and political grievances in order to enjoy an evening of well mannered frivolity.

As the event would be taking a few months at the very least, students - accompanied by a select few of their staff, would be staying in allocated areas, and studying either with the Hogwarts students should they share classes - or take their lessons privately in fashioned rooms for instruction on subjects not offered at Hogwarts. Headmasters have been encouraged to join as well - with efforts being made for them to periodically return to their schools for any emergency oversights that might require their attention. Students who have not been chosen to partake directly in the events have been encouraged to stay on as well, and becoming makeshift - research and revitalising teams for their champions, with the reminder that should there ever be need to swop out one of the champions the replacement would be picked from the original selection.

And so, fate has been counted down and the day of arrived -

H O G W A R T S

Students have been buzzing about the great hall since early morning, many of them looking at the now two long tables set along the top dais - one with all the seats allocated for the general staff of all the schools, a smaller one slightly higher than the rest, large enough only for the headmasters of all the schools to sit closer together and commune. Another table, similar in size to that of the House tables, has been set horizontally across the front of the room - much like that of the teacher’s table - allocated for the smaller group that would make up the collective students from the other schools.

With breakfast being scarfed down, and talk radiating throughout, the hosting school was ready as it could be. Now they have only to wait for the first arrivals - something which would definitely hinder the schooling for the day - as both teachers and students would want to indulge their fiery curiosities. The headmistress was sitting ahead of the school as always, her eyes practiced stern, but her lips lingered in a small excited smile of her own, refraining from calling the excitement to order, letting the younger folk enjoy their wonder. Her eyes flicked across the few she knew would be attempting to take part - their names well burned into her mind. Her eyes turned towards another on the staff table - a tall man, slicked back hair and a maroon suit. McCaa. His eyes too were fixed to the student body, but for an entirely different reason.

She refrained from a muttered ‘snitch’ inspired by her wards, as she returned to her meal, her mood soured only slightly. How ironic it was that both the ire and excitement of the moment was so entirely encompassed in a singular man. She took a drink, before sighing quietly. It had been a challenge integrating the inspector appointed by Thorne - the man looming over every corner of the school, watching, waiting, reporting - owls leaving every hour on the hour, and it reminded McGonagall of that awful toad-woman… Her faint smile returned.

It had been so long.

She raised a spoon, and lightly rang against the crystal glass set beside her meal, the whole school quieting down at her call to attention, hundreds of eyes suddenly on her where she awaited them comfortably.
“Note that, all and only all students, who will be partaking in the event are excused from classes for the meeting ceremony. You can greet, but are to return to classes once finished. You will have your chance to interact and socialise after school hours.” Her voice, proper and firm, left little offer to question her. “That is all, finish up breakfast and head to your classes.” There was a few more minutes left before the first bell, as the children returned to their meals, the excited chatter returning along with her soft smile.

B E A U X B A T O N S

The chandelier moved faintly from side to side, as the cafe-like interior of the carriage swayed only slightly compared to the intense forces enacted upon it outside. As the elephant sized horses pulled the small cottage sized vehicle through the skies, their massive wings flapping with near perfect rhythm, the whole affair being heavily enchanted to seem only like a passing cloud. Inside, listening to faint music coming from a gramophone, some students were sitting at small rounded tables on a stone walkway, drinking coffee and being served pastries, while others were seated at the windows - peering out at the world moving far below. The trip would not take too long yet, but they had been flying for an hour now and - while bathed in luxury - the faintest swayings still made the trip feel uneasy.

Sélène Lestrange sat with her students in the makeshift cafe, enjoying her foamed latte, laughing lightly at a joke made by one of the girls sitting across from her. She reached up, holding her fingers in front of her mouth, a charming giggle escaping the dignified woman, before she settled once more.
“You are too much darling, I would never.” She smirked faintly. “But Hogwarts does have a grand tradition of waving their wands about as though a wooden club. No wonder they are so expert at quidditch - when class amounts to beater practice in tandem!” The few sat around her laughed, before she shooed them away so that she might return to her novel.

Her eyes returning to the words barely took in what she was reading. Minerva had assured her that the school was safe. That Thorne’s influence would be limited at best. That her beloved pupils would not be suppressed. She would have none of this tripe about abandoning culture when it was the only thing that made them what they are. Her teeth danced about her deep red painted lower lip, as she worried for them. She had been on the cusp of saying no to all of it, but her own damned curiosity would not let her. She sighed, placing the book down, and looking over the students. She would protect them - the competition? No need to worry…

As if they could lose...

She smirked, before returning to her book.

D U R M S T R A N G

Not bothering with a wand, Diethard waved a hand through the air, and the boys were separated, the two of them flung across the space and against the two wooden walls across from one another. Their groans matched the creaking of the wood, before quieting enough to fall beneath the sounds of water rushing by. His eyes narrowed, his stance lazy as he waited for just long enough - the two of them working through their egos on opposite sides of the room, shame replacing the misplaced anger, the both of them lowering their faces.

“And now where is all that anger? I thought this was important enough for you to make a fool of yourself - yet now you hang your heads as if it were but a trifle?” His voice, stern, unforgiving, had them lowering their heads even more, the magic releasing them as they fell to the ground. “Up!” His voice not allowing for any questioning, they jumped up, rushing towards each other and standing at attention in front of him. He watched them, his cold eyes judging everything about their stance, their breathing, their guilt. “You two are some of the best we have and you would throw away our good name because of some girl?”

The one stood upright, more so, his eyes narrowing - and before he could step forwards towards his High Master, Diethard stepped forward first, placing his face directly in front of the boy, taller than the kid, stronger than the kid - eyes flashing, cowing him into submission once more.
“Get to your bunks. Now!” The two of them, nodding at the order, quickly made their ways towards their rooms on the ship. Diethard turned to the few other students, shaking his head. “Those two…” He rolled his eyes playfully, the rest of them chuckling. “We rise in half an hour. Ready your things.” The students marched off towards their own bunks on the submerged ship, before he made his own way towards his rooms.

U A G A D O U

The international port-key was set to leave within the hour. Kagiso was seated in the large pavilion that had been erected for them, the students who would be accompanying him loitering about, playing games, reading and conversing quietly. One of them, as had been for the last few hours, was currently talking to the UK Ministry official - going over records, procedures - informing them of the expectations surrounding Animagus transformations, etc. etc. It had Kagiso rolling his eyes, taking a drink of the refreshing beer he had charmed to remain cool, eyes going towards the clear blue skies and the softly waving grass.

It would have been undignified to say he was bored, so he remained quiet, vicariously living through the quietly complaining students. They should have left hours prior, but because of some new standard many of the forms needed refilling, refiling and even if he had secured priority in these matters - it was still taking time working through their passports. A gruff sigh left him, leaning further into his seat. He could not help but wonder if this was all planned. Thorne had been on him about everything. Wandless magic. Transformation. Ritual. Music. Art. Everything needed to be regulated. Everything needed to be understood in order for her to okay it.

This all felt less like bureaucracy and more like reminding. As if they needed just one more insulting instruction on how to blend in with Wizarding Britain. Seeing one of his favorite students sitting across from him, clearly bored out of his mind, Kagiso, with his deep and charming voice waved him over, picking up a handful of sand, strewing it through the air and onto a rock between them. The sand quickly became pieces of a chess set, and the stone morphed into a flat surface that was squared off. “Come, let’s play. Before I lose myself.” He smiled at the student as they eagerly rushed over, settling across from him, making the first move.

He looked at it, wondering what the best response would be.


I L V E R M O R N Y

Paige lay back in the leather seat, her fingers lightly tapping at the armrest, her eyes peering at the clouds rushing past far below. The school, as part of a new MACUSA effort to integrate magical and no-maj elements, had acquired a private jet, currently flying across the Atlantic. It was all disturbingly official - they went through no-maj airports, no-maj check in - this all presented as a real educational outreach. It had been disturbing how easily it worked out - when you could obliviate and forge with a wave of a wand. In an effort to seem to appease Thorne, they had stumbled on how ill-equipped no-maj systems are to magical influence.

They really were… frail in their ignorance. She would never claim that they were justified in what they did - the horrors of witch burnings all to real a thing, but to place herself in such a world. To assume that she knew nothing of magic and then imagine another to have it - to have powers so far beyond her own - to so easily circumvent any law and order any no-maj could ever hope to erect - the idea of equality under law seemed desperately fragile.

She closed her eyes, listening to some of the other students seated around the interior of the jet - tended to with drinks and snacks and in flight entertainment. To no-maj this was the epitome of luxury. They would have to harm and steal and undermine and deceive so many in order to get to the point where one out of a million could maybe afford a flight on these. And yet here she and her students designed to use it because it was a fun disguise. It made her feel utterly uneasy. Her eyes opened, looking over her students, before calling. “We land in an hour. Think about getting your things ready.” - before she returned to watching the clouds.

C A S T E L O B R U X O

The port-key glowed brightly, signifying that it would leave soon. It went unheeded as students and teachers rushed around, gathering bags and items of clothing - throwing ingredients and other resources into bags, shouting with urgency for the people to get ready to leave. There had been a misunderstanding and while they thought the port-key would leave only in about 12 hours, it turned out that it was leaving within the hour. Sergi, laughing loudly at the chaos, waved his wand around, packing the bags for some of the students who were just throwing their bags and their things into a pile. The magic sorted much of it and it became clear to him that some of them were not going to have enough space. Expanding their stores for them with an affectionate chuckle he again called for them to relax, but was ignored like before.

He was excited for it. They all were, and he was entirely enamoured with the idea of challenging the other schools. They went sometimes quite under-sight here south and away from the world - and often they liked it. But now they were going to show them the true skill and the true wonder of South American magic. He twirled around as two students nearly bumped him over in rushing past, before shaking his head. “We can make it, everyone just calm down!” That just spurred them on and he laughed even louder.

All this business with the UK did not phase him as much as it seemed to Paige. She worried about it constantly and he worried about her for it. There was no way Thorne would challenge the world. She could not afford to piss off everyone. And even if some schooled remained absent it mattered little - they would enjoy the chance to gloat before intervention. The UK has been a problem in the past too many times. It won’t be allowed to be so again. He would make sure of it. They all would. And while that remains certain, he might as well have some fun.

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le reveur

𝙒𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙪𝙨𝙞𝙘’𝙨 𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙮𝙞𝙣𝙜, 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙨 𝙢𝙮 𝙢𝙖𝙜𝙞𝙘 𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙧
mood:
unimpressed

location:
waiting for portkey
outfit: x
mentions:
michelle Saboona Saboona

interactions :
n/a
uagadou
Adunni

From the beginning Adunni had not been looking forward to the T.W.I.S.T . She was firm in her opinion that it wasn’t as important as others made it out to be and there was little that could convince her otherwise. There were better ways in which they could exchange cultures with one another. Honestly, something as simple as exchanging letters with a Pen Pal was good enough in her opinion. She’d learned plenty from her own pen pal Michelle, a student of House Slytherin at Hogwarts. Vaguely she wondered when the two of them would finally meet. She would admit that she was looking forward to meeting the other girl a little, they had been exchanging letters and the occasional photo for such a long time after all.

Still, despite her own feelings about the tournament Adunni would do her best to represent her school probably. Even though the other schools could not witness the Uagadou in all of its glory, she would be there to act as an extension of her beloved academy. Adunni knew that many of her fellow students felt the same. Together they’d act as a unit, working as one in order to let their prestige be known. After all, magic had begun with them. From what she’d been told, Wizarding Britain was on the path of suppressing their culture in a way. Adunni couldn’t imagine doing such a thing, ridding herself of everything that made her who she was.

Her family’s image was also a weight upon her shoulders as well. There was no doubt that they would catch word of how she behaved while away. Adunni could remember their worlds before she left. How the entire family had gathered at their ancestral home in order to speak with all those attending Uagadou. The speech was one that Adunni had grown up hearing with her cousins but she’d taken the words to heart as if hearing them for the first time. Together they’d do well to represent the Yekini family well.

And speaking of family, Adunni looked down at the large feline curled up in her lap. Ife lazily gazed at the crowd of students, hissing occasionally when someone dared to get too close. Adunni was comforted by the fact that she’d have her longtime companion by her side, even if they’d have to be separated shortly. She gently rubbed his back, enjoying the soft feeling of his fur and his purring.
coded by reveriee.
 
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Hypnos

L'Empereur
Morton Shankland





‘Draconifors!... Draconifors! Drah. Kon. Ih. Fors!’

Like the very last slither of toothpaste pushed from the end of a particularly well-used tube, the tiniest dripping of magic emerged from the end of the wand, a golden spark that glimmered and shone for maybe half a second, before bouncing aimlessly off of its target: pretty as a firework, though about as useful as a raindrop over the ocean.

I said, Draconifors!’

A cracking noise could be heard, though its origin was more temporal than it was magical, as Morton Shankland gritted his teeth in intense concentration.

‘Are you deaf or something? Can’t you just…? Draconifors!’ The frustration in the air was so thick, that you couldn’t cut it with a knife, the veins on Morty’s forehead close to bursting.

With the way that things had been going recently, it would perhaps be very much in line with his current luck to discover that he had indeed been blessed with the world’s first deaf wand, or at least if not audibly impaired then about as cooperative as a brick wall.

‘Draconifors! Come on you piece of shi - oddy craftsmanship.’

The burning eyes of Professor Lupin could be felt upon the back of Morty’s head long before he came into view.

‘Mr. Shankland!’ The disapproval was familiar, though that didn’t make it any less unwelcome.

‘I didn’t say anything, Professor. I’m just trying to get his wacko spell to work, and it’s not f-’

‘The spell isn’t wacko, Mr. Shankland, the spell is fine.’ Professor Lupin interrupted before Morty had any more time to incriminate himself. ‘You just need to get the gesture right. Watch this: Draconifors.’ Lupin directed his own wand towards the pewter goblet that lay in front of Morty on the desk, and immediately it started to dissolve into half a dozen tiny little draconic creatures. ‘See?’

‘Yes, Professor. Very helpful.’ Very helpful indeed. By what miraculous luck had the Transfiguration Professor successfully used a Transfiguration spell? How Impressive! How this little demonstration was supposed was actually supposed to be any use to Morty was completely beyond him, though talking back risked spending yet another evening in detention, and he’d already surrendered enough of his free time to sitting around in Lupin’s office and pretending to listen to whatever lecture the young Professor gave him about honing his magical abilities. It was best just to grin and bear it.

‘I’m going to go and help one of your classmates, Mr. Shankland. You keep practicing.’

‘Yes, Professor. Thank you, Professor.’

The temptation to flip Lupin off as he turned his back to walk further down the length of the classroom was strong, though there were enough snitches in the room that he did not dare risk it.

Turning back to his desk, Morty noticed that Lupin had neglected to transform these little draconic creations back into a goblet, and considering he himself didn’t have a single clue how he would go about achieving that, he supposed he was at a dead end. If Lupin came back, he’d just say that he figured out the spell all on his own. At least that was a weight off of his back.

Sliding his wand back into the pockets of his robes, the elongated rod hung outwards in an awkward fashion, too unwieldy to keep anywhere comfortably. It was a pain he’d had to deal with ever since he’d gotten this new wand, and whilst he’d spent many previous years cursing Ollivander for the seemingly sub-par quality of his old wand, he now deeply regretted the mistake of taking it for granted. Boundless magical potential, yet these things snapped in half like twigs. The design conventions of the magical world never ceased to frustrate him.

For the rest of the duration of the class, Morty spent his time face down on his desk, bringing his head up just enough so that he seemed productive every time that Professor Lupin walked by. He was vaguely aware at an attempt of conversation made by one of his neighbours, though his attention span did not stretch long enough to actually listen to what was being said, and uncharacteristic luck ensured the the occasional nod, and the utterance of ‘Mhm’ every few minutes was enough to carry his half of the interaction.

Eventually, the clock finally ticked over the hour mark, and Morty paid just enough attention to his surroundings to realise that class was over, starting to gather up his things as Lupin announced the week’s homework. Homework that definitely wasn’t going to get done.

As he headed out of the classroom, the same student that had been sitting next to him before moved along with him, keeping up the same conversation as before, though of course, Morty had no idea what that conversation was actually about.

‘So, You up for it?’

‘Am I up for what? What are you talking about?’

‘TWIST? You gonna put your name down for TWIST?’

‘No.’

‘No?’

‘No.’

‘No?’

‘Which part of this are you struggling with?’

‘I mean, I thought everyone was signing up. Like a school pride thing. Standing up for Hogwarts.’

Morty took a sharp left turn down the corridor, hoping that it might bring this conversation to a swifter end, though even when his companion walked straight on at the same junction, the two of them somehow managed to end up in the same place once more. This school...

‘I think Hogwarts will do just fine without me. Thanks.’ Heading up one of the stairways, Morty felt the whole thing start to shift underneath him, rotating in a counterclockwise manner, so that instead of taking him closer towards the Ravenclaw Commonroom, it instead put him right outside the Transfiguration classroom that he’d just exited.

‘That’s cool. I mean, I’m definitely signing up. What better chance am I going to get to meet Beauxbatons girls? Do you think they’re like everyone says they are?’

‘Mhm.’ Once again, Morty had defaulted to not listening. ‘Hey. You got the riddle for the Common Room?’

‘Oh, it’s super easy this week it’s just…’

‘What is it?’

‘It’s the concept of the relativity of time, and how…’

‘Thanks.’ Morty butted in as soon as the actual answer was given. ‘I think I forgot my Transfiguration book in Lupin’s room. I’m just going to go back in and get it. I’ll see you in the common room.’

Morty, who was currently quite visibly holding his Transfiguration book in his arms, looked at his companion pointedly, standing in front of the classroom door until the other figure had fully moved on.

‘What kind of stupid spell is Draconifors anyway?’









code by g o l d i e l o x x
 

ThatGuyWithSouvlaki

Lucky Laki Malakis

Pierre sat quietly at the Ravenclaw table, eating some peanut butter and jam toast. He was quiet, quieter than usual what was going to be the first day back at school especially with such news as the tournament starting soon. He spoke only when spoken to and only with a bare minimum, others have noticed around him and prodded him for a reason. "Just have a few things on my mind, mes aimes." He would reply simply and would not reply any further. The would insist a little but eventually give up and live Pierre to his ruminations.

He doubted he was the only one to be as trouble as him. Pierre had noted things were not as lively as one would expect at least how he would think other would be at least. Whether they were thinking like him, he could not say for sure. His mind was with the new government and minister, the laws against anything traditional wizarding yet still allowing the school as is and the tournament. What was the minister's game with this? If he was his mother's son in anything, it was that he never trusted and liked politician particularly this one. The new minister was not the usual wizard supremacist or any of the regular groups, so one could not expect what they are going to do next and what is the end goal. True there were worse things than trying to be closer to the muggles but in such a drastic way?

"Mister Guerrer?" A voice called out behind him, interrupting his thoughts. He soon noted that the conversation around him had hashed slightly and raised eyebrows were on him. Despite doing nothing wrong, he could not help the feeling he was caught out at something. He turned and saw Professor McGonagall standing behind him. He quickly stood and straightened his robes out.

"Bonjour professor, what can i do for you?" He asked studying her for any sign of what she wanted but as always there was nothing given away in her stern expression.

"A word if you please." She replied before taking him in a quieter corner of the great hall and Pierre followed her obediently. He could feel the stares follow him before conversation at his table returned to normal. "I would like you to be on hand today when the other schools arrive. Particularly with the students of Beauxbatons. Use you knowledge and experience to provide translation and generally make sure the students make themselves at home."

Pierre silently cursed, this was another things he was worrying a little about. "I... Are you sure, professor? I did not leave the school at the best of terms and i am likely known to at least one person who would come."

McGonagall studied him for a second. She of all people knew what he used to be like, she was the one in the end that turned him away from his mother darker influences after all. "I would not have chosen you to this role if I thought it would cause trouble or if it was not good for you. You underestimate your peers, they will give you a chance if they see how you turned out. Especially if you are genuine in making amends of your past deeds."

"Oh, oui professor... I am."

"Good, I will send for you when the time comes. You may return to your breakfast." She said before turning to her next task. This left Pierre walking back to his table unsure how to feel about his current situation.​
 

TYPE

Now what?
ADRIAAN.jpg
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He had been cross legged on the earth for a while now, his practiced fingers trailing along the dry ground in a semi-intricate pattern that seemed at the same time both simple arcana and gibberish. The back of his neck and his shoulders were warmed long since in him leaning forward over his work, the sliver of exposed skin turning pink without burning - thanks to the herbal poultice he had smeared into it. It was a gift from a friend of fortune, for him having helped her with her homework some weeks ago. With the dirt finding its way beneath his nails in his makeshift arts, he smiled faintly at spontaneously manifesting memories, dreamlike from a lifetime ago, lightly gracing his mind. There he saw children rushing about on the farm, among the rows upon rows of valleyed, treasured vines bearing green-gold grapes worth the discipline that came with their stealing. He was young then – as if he were no longer so – where he and his cousins were dirtying themselves in splendored abandon. Memories bittered sweet with time. He broke through his reverie by looking up and again into the present – casting lazily a hand over his brow to shield the sun, his eyes scrunching up as he watched the others.

They were, his peers in their bright regalia, quiet enough in their makeshift islands of sun-drenched isolation – few enough choosing to mingle. Their headmaster was busying himself with a game of chess, his opponent a student in turn seemed to have lost the moment he chose to play. They – the group of Uagadou students and their chaperones - had been un-busy for a few hours now, and Adriaan would have liked to have left some time ago, on their northward travels. Yet, as luck would have be, it seemed there was some officious trouble with their papers, and as it stood, he was not going to bother complaining. It would not change anything - save voice that small part of him that was disappointed - and share that bitterness needlessly among the group. He would not wish to sour their day further. They were all readily sitting with poisoned enthusiasm and shattered excitement. Only that morning they were all mostly made of smiles and good cheer. Now… Now? He would let them be. Tend to their disgruntledness in distracted silence. And even if they were late – what was the worst that could happen? They might miss lunch? Hogwarts dinners were the better mealtime anyway… supposedly. If the rumours were to be believed.

Adriaan scratched his chin with a faint smile imagining the mythical piled high platters of pastries and poultry. He had never had the pleasure of a treacle tart, but it sounded heavenly and sweet, and his mouth watered at the potential delight of trying one for the first time. Not all of the others might not be as forgiving though at their enduring delay. He could almost sense the frustration growing along with the glistening sweat marking their skin, the cooling charms that followed and the slowly growing distraction which rendered most of them ineffective. As if some poor scarabaeinae had misfortuned unto some Sisyphean mound, the tension grew without seemingly coming towards an end. It was a cruel aspect of their powerless situation. Rendered mute for all the world was concerned, awaiting the whims of another - they had chosen to allow some measure of control over their lives – at least for the next few months. Their proud wills rendered frail in the looming bureaucracy of fickle power.

He sighed.

He rarely had such angry thoughts these days. It was an unpleasant flavour among his musings, and he wished to be free of it.

The symbol that had slowly taken form on the ground began to darken in colour, the mix of clay and dust drawing moisture and then crystalline liquid to the surface. He closed his eyes, twirling his fingers about the air, mouth whispering elegant language - ancient and powerful, the water collecting in a slowly forming clay pot – also formed from the clay drawn from the surface of the earth. Three fingers rose in elegant succession, conjuring forth three miniature wooden logs beneath his little project, a snap of his fingers setting them alight – the clay teapot now hovering freely and evenly above it. Adriaan reached over and searched through his satchel hanging off his side, before pulling out a few bags of tea, opening the lid – gently and expertly adding the flavours he was in the mood for.

Once the mix of fine leaves collected in the slowly swirling water to steep, he started forth conjuring small clay cups, cleaning them with a simple purifying spell. By the time he had a selection ready, he had them all hover around the pot, groaning needlessly as he got up, a big smile on his face. Patting off the back of his trousers and peering at the sun for a second to guess the time, he started making his way to the closest student who seemed to be on the edge of shouting. “Perhaps some tea?” He smiled, and when they looked at him with confusion, they stopped, then smiled – grateful words hidden in their gaze, as Adriaan set forth pouring them the privileged first cup, making sure to keep enough for the rest.
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qunqun

There will be light
Marko Kushnyr
mood
Cheerful

outfit
Durmstrang uniform

location
Durmstrang Boat

tags
N/A
Marko watched the two boys beginning to argue, a small smile tugging at his lips as he watched them fight. Maybe he should've stepped in, but to be honest he didn't really want to get mixed up in that. Besides, their headmaster took care of it. He looked over at his other classmates, jutting a thumb towards them as if to say "get a load of that mess," his grin widening a fraction on the verge of laughter before the headmaster turned to the rest of them and Marko's smile immediately dropped, his gaze also dropping to the ground like he wasn't just needling a little fun out of the whole conflict.

Marko got his orders. Get ready to move out. Probably a show of strength, to be honest. Proving that they were strong competitors. He could keep a straight face long enough to do their "Super Serious" entrance. Kind stupid if you asked him, but if that's what he needed to do, he was going to do it. He had a certain bounce when he walked back to his bunk to pack. And a pleased almost smug smile on his face.

He too a glance at his fellow Durmstrang students as he entered his bunk. Were they as excited as he was? He loved meeting new people, and to be able to make friends from around the globe? He was very very excited, even if he knew that their friendship would probably be completely limited to this specific competition. And, the competition would probably just divide them among house lines as they became competitive for glory and fame and whatever. But to be completely honest, it didn't really matter to him. All that mattered was new people! New friends!

Well, there was the threat of potential death which might've been weighing on everyone's minds but to be completely honest, death was surrounding them constantly. No reason for him to be bothered. It was really quite overrated. Been there, done that. A bit morbid of a thought, but it was true. He laughed in the face of that fear. There were very few times that Marko considered life to be completely safe, every action was a manageable risk that you had to take in order to survive. But maybe the others didn't share his mentality. After all, they were all much more... competent than he was. Probably valued their lives more. He began packing.

He wasn't holding out hope that he was actually going to get chosen for the super dangerous and most likely lethal competition. Why woud he? He was absolutely awful at spellcasting, the only reason why he'd been brought along was his encyclopaedic knowledge of herbology and spells - that he couldn't cast - that could be useful. It's what carried him in school, and it was probably going to carry him through trying to help the chosen ones through the competition. Easy win. Would it suck if they died? Of course! It would suck so much! And maybe it would be worse than his own life being put in danger...

Well now he was sad. His smile slid off his face slowly, as he stared straight ahead at the opposite wall, going completely still. His mouth set in a grim determined line. He shoved the clothes scattered about his bunk into his luggage with a newfound force. Marko decided right then and there, he wasn't going to let anyone else die. Ever. Even if it killed him. It would be better for him to die than any of his new-potential-ish rival-friends.
coded by reveriee.


Marko watched the two boys beginning to argue, a small smile tugging at his lips as he watched them fight. Maybe he should've stepped in, but to be honest he didn't really want to get mixed up in that. Besides, their headmaster took care of it. He looked over at his other classmates, jutting a thumb towards them as if to say "get a load of that mess," his grin widening a fraction on the verge of laughter before the headmaster turned to the rest of them and Marko's smile immediately dropped, his gaze also dropping to the ground like he wasn't just needling a little fun out of the whole conflict.

Marko got his orders. Get ready to move out. Probably a show of strength, to be honest. Proving that they were strong competitors. He could keep a straight face long enough to do their "Super Serious" entrance. Kind stupid if you asked him, but if that's what he needed to do, he was going to do it. He had a certain bounce when he walked back to his bunk to pack. And a pleased almost smug smile on his face.

He too a glance at his fellow Durmstrang students as he entered his bunk. Were they as excited as he was? He loved meeting new people, and to be able to make friends from around the globe? He was very very excited, even if he knew that their friendship would probably be completely limited to this specific competition. And, the competition would probably just divide them among house lines as they became competitive for glory and fame and whatever. But to be completely honest, it didn't really matter to him. All that mattered was new people! New friends!

Well, there was the threat of potential death which might've been weighing on everyone's minds but to be completely honest, death was surrounding them constantly. No reason for him to be bothered. It was really quite overrated. Been there, done that. A bit morbid of a thought, but it was true. He laughed in the face of that fear. There were very few times that Marko considered life to be completely safe, every action was a manageable risk that you had to take in order to survive. But maybe the others didn't share his mentality. After all, they were all much more... competent than he was. Probably valued their lives more. He began packing.

He wasn't holding out hope that he was actually going to get chosen for the super dangerous and most likely lethal competition. Why woud he? He was absolutely awful at spellcasting, the only reason why he'd been brought along was his encyclopaedic knowledge of herbology and spells - that he couldn't cast - that could be useful. It's what carried him in school, and it was probably going to carry him through trying to help the chosen ones through the competition. Easy win. Would it suck if they died? Of course! It would suck so much! And maybe it would be worse than his own life being put in danger...

Well now he was sad. His smile slid off his face slowly, as he stared straight ahead at the opposite wall, going completely still. His mouth set in a grim determined line. He shoved the clothes scattered about his bunk into his luggage with a newfound force. Marko decided right then and there, he wasn't going to let anyone else die. Ever. Even if it killed him. It would be better for him to die than any of his new-potential-ish rival-friends.
 




It was pretty obvious that the environment around Castelobruxo was different from the usual, mostly after the announcement of T.W.I.S.T the students became eager the participation in the school in such event. After all, even if Castelobruxo was known for their programs in herbology and care of magical creatures along with their exchange program, they wanted to prove that they were more than just the wizards that were knowledgeable in this kind of areas.

Because even after all those years almost everyone that studied in Castelobruxo knew about the tournaments from the past such as the Triwizard Tournament, a tournament that they only in their dreams they were part of, even if the reason behind the actual tournament was meant to the schools to reunite, some really thought it was kind of odd to have such an event just to create relationships especially with some of the news and rumors that were from the land where the actual tournament was taking place, but this didn't seem to stop the brave ones and reckless that were just hoping they would be the representative of Castelobruxo and would carry the honor of the wizards from South America on their shoulders.

And between those students Kauê was one of them, sure he wasn't as blinded behind the frivolous event, but he indeed was kind of eager to participate, not because of fame, he wanted to show what kind of wizard he was, maybe it was a bit egotistical of his part, but he really wanted to challenge himself after all those years after studying in Castelobruxo, he wanted to realize his grow and what was he lacking by challenging the students of the other schools in this event, he wanted to learn from them more than defeating them and just show off, although it wouldn't be that bad to learn from what the other schools had to offer and also win the tournament.

It was just a matter of time until the departure to their new destination and Kauê was going to make the best out of it, he was going to make sure to make Castelobruxo being recognized if he was selected, and if he was going to make sure to support the representative of their school because everyone wanted to be able to be someone that people in Catelobruxo look up to.

It was just a matter of time until the world saw what Castelobruxo students were capable of.
Location: Castelobruxo | Mood: confident
Outift: castelobruxo robes | Interactions:
Kauê Carvalho

Code by Stardust Galaxy
 

Inkwell

Junior Member
Bellatrixia watched the chaos unfold in front of her eyes as her classmates rushed around trying to pack their things in a hurry. She had let out a good side splitting laugh when she heard that the portkey was set wrong by about half a day. It was either incompetence or if this was another prank by the Caipora since it wasn't one of her pranks, either way it was still hilarious. Even after she got her laughter under control she couldn't help snickering at her fellow classmates as they tried to get ready on time. Thankfully she didn't need to pack to much as she got almost everything ready the day before as she had to pack her prank supplies in the trunk secret compartment as she didn't want anyone looking over her shoulder as she packed. Bellatrixia had also packed up pretty much everything else at the same time as she was already packing. All she had to do was pack up her toiletries after which included some 'Ever Stay Hair Wax' and some 'Instant Magic Hair Dye'. These two thing neither Bellatrixia or her lovely purple hair could live or exist without. With everything packed all she had to do was tap her wand on her trunk which activated the its inbuilt shrinking and feather light spells so she could clip it onto her necklace.

Thankfully some of her preparedness rubbed off on her friend Ashley who was pretty much packed besides her extensive makeup collection. Which Ashley was tearing through at a rapid pace trying to find the perfect makeup to compliment her spiky green hair. Bellatrixia still couldn't believe that her friend wasn't going for the competition but was in fact going because it would be one of the biggest gatherings of young single wizards in the world. Ashley went on to say that the only other opportunity like this would be the Quidditch World Cup. So now Bellatrixia was also having to judge what makeup would make her sexy best friend even sexier to those stupid boys. Now she realised not all boys were stupid or jerks but her friend didn't seem to realise that most of the good ones would be taken not that she would say this to her friend. Let her friend keep her hopes up for now. Getting frustrated her best friend whined "it's so unfair you look good with no makeup." Sighing and rolling her eyes Bellatrixia replies "yes while being part Veela makes me unbelievably sexy it also means idiots want to drool and stair at me all day. Also use the green lipstick and eye shadow with the gold flecks. Maybe some black eyeliner as well." Ashley picking up the suggested items just squealed realising that they were a great choice. Watching as her friend ran off to the bathroom Bellatrixia just sighed and hoped that maybe some sexy girl would sweep her off her feet.
 

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