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| Tweet Topic Started: Jan 28 2017, 03:56 AM (52 Views) | |
| Jace Archer | Jan 28 2017, 03:56 AM Post #1 |
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Slipping out of the castle had been remarkably simple considering the increased security that Reynolds put in place since the attack on the school. Leaving a rather large box of Weasley’s Wickedly Wild Whizzbangs in the Great Hall was apparently a temptation that Peeves couldn’t resist. The chaos was enough to distract even the most vigilant of professors. Jace could see Shaw scurrying across the Entrance Hall with her wand aimed at the source of the pandemonium. Peacock feathers on the top of her wide brimmed hat were bristling angrily with each infuriated threat she made at the cackling poltergeist. Amidst the blindingly bright flashes and deafening cracks that echoed violently off the thick stone walls, Jace managed to quietly slip right out the front door of the old castle. In the sudden silence of the cool fall evening, he was suddenly very aware of the fact that tonight's mission, if he were successful, would change his life forever. His uncle had been very clear about the fact that Jace was far too young to get involved in anything the resistance had planned. That was why he was going to sneak into the meeting tonight. He’d spent a good portion of his free time at Paul’s home in Hogsmeade and very carefully snooped through the older man’s desk every chance he got until he was able to find the time and location of the next meeting. Since the attack, Jace had been haunted by the memories of Nat and Jasper. Their deaths weighed heavily on his conscience. The guilt and sorrow he felt every day was what drove him to this decision. He could no longer be complacent. He had to get involved. He had to fight for those who couldn’t. A small part of him thought if he could help bring Reed and his followers down, then maybe it would help ease the pain in his heart. Though, that wasn’t the whole reason. Not by a long shot. A good part of this was about Nicolette. The beautiful brunette, who was caught up in the middle of the darkness and the destruction that Reed caused with his every move, was his real motivation. She was the most complex and puzzling person that Jace had ever know. Yet, if there was any way possible that he could pave a way for her to get free of Reed’s grasp, he knew he had to secure it. He had no idea if she wanted to get free… No, that was a lie… he was fairly sure she didn’t. Nicolette Delacroix was the most capable and most intelligent woman Jace had ever met. And definitely the most stubborn. She knew exactly where she stood in Reeds organization and she was exactly where she wanted to be. Yet, even knowing all that, Jace was compelled to fight in the resistance just in case she needed him. He was a half blood wizard. He represented everything that Reed’s army (Nicolette included) was attempting to destroy and despite everything, Jace couldn’t help but believe that Nicolette cared for him. And that belief was what drove him towards Hogsmeade tonight. As he entered the small village, he darted down a dark alley behind the Hogs Head tavern. The winding old alley smelled of stale ale and rotting vegetables, but it led him through the village unseen towards the small old house that would be hosting the meeting tonight. As he got close, Jace could smell the sweet scent of the evening primrose that lined the white picket fence around the tiny cottage. As he carefully peered in the window, he could see a number of people gathering in the magically enlarged parlour. He didn’t know most of them but he recognized a few. Headmaster Reynolds was perched gingerly on the edge of a peach floral settee that was carefully protected by a vinyl slip cover. He held a tiny porcelain tea cup awkwardly as he chatted with Diana Lancaster. The matron of the Lancaster family looked just as comfortable in sipping tea in the doily ladened living room as she did hosting an elegant fundraiser for a local charity or cheering her son on from the quidditch stands. Before he could spot much more, Jace’s feet were literally swept out from under him. A spell caught him by the ankle and dangled him in the air. He squawked indignantly as all the blood rushed to his head. He was being hung upside down a few feet off the ground but he managed to turn enough to see who had caught him. A petite elderly woman was standing in the doorway with her wand aimed at him. Her silver framed glasses balanced precariously at the end of her nose and her white gray hair was pulled back into a neat bun at the back of her head. “Mr Archer?” Her tone was stern and one that Jace recognized immediately. “Professor Templeton?” He sputtered as he tried to turn his head to see her right side up. “I’m certain that you’ve got an excellent reason to be snooping through my windows and trampling my petunias?” She asked. Not releasing him from her spell until she had the answers that she was seeking. “I… well, I was …” Jace sputtered. “I do believe that one belongs to me, Alma.” Another familiar voice interrupted. Jace wasn’t sure whether he should be worried or relieved to see his uncle Paul step into the garden. And he didn’t have time to make a decision before his old professor released him from her spell. He fell in a heap onto the ground. Paul and Professor Templeton were both staring at him as he struggled to his feet and began to brush off his trousers. Professor Templeton tried to look annoyed but her eyes sparkled with amusement as her lips twitched into a grin that she tried to smother. His uncle on the other hand looked furious. Jace took a deep breath before he spoke. “Professor Templeton, I’m sorry to intrude the way I did…” He began. “I haven’t been a professor for a few years now, lad, call me Alma.” She finally gave into the chuckle that had been trying to escape. “Though, I do hope you remember what I taught you about herbology.” Jace nodded though he was a little perplexed. “Good, you’ll be spending the next few Hogsmeade weekends setting this flower bed right. I’m not as young as I used to be, and your little visit has made a mess of my Alstroemeria.” Jace wanted to mention that if she hadn’t dumped him into the flowers he wouldn’t have crushed them, but he figured he’d leave well enough alone for now. He still had a fuming uncle to deal with, so he nodded quickly. Alma made her way back inside and Jace turned his attention back to the aforementioned angry relative. “I know what you’re going to say…” Jace began. “I figured you’d be here… I didn’t think I’d see you dangling in the air by your sneakers. But I had a feeling you’d show up here tonight.” Paul’s scowl had faded from anger to one of pure exasperation. A look Jace had seen on his face many many times before. “What? How did you know?” “Jace, my boy, you are many things. Subtle is not one of them.” Paul shook his head and chuckled. “I suppose I could explain to you how this is a terrible idea. How you are not meant to do this kind of work. You should stay at the school where it’s safe.” “Paul, I can help. I want to help.” Jace stated. “I need to help.” “This is dangerous, lad. And I don’t think you are cut out for this. You managed to get out of the castle undetected, but I knew you were going to be here because I saw signs of your snooping through my stuff, not to mention you just suddenly wanted to spend every free minute with me. No, not suspicious at all, boy.” “Okay so I wasn’t exactly stealthy, but you can teach me. Show me what I did wrong and help me learn from my mistakes” “You were caught off guard and captured by an old woman. A woman who, by all accounts, will be celebrating her 103rd birthday next month.” Paul’s tone, though light was laced with concern. “I don’t think you’re cut out for the resistance, lad.” Jace’s face flushed deep red and he clenched his fists at his sides. It felt as though his only chance at doing something, doing anything he could to help, was slipping away from him. “No. Maybe I’m not but I want to learn. Despite all the banter between us, you know me better than anyone, Paul. You know that I’m smart. You know that I’m a quick study. Teach me how to do this. Show me what I’ve done wrong and let me help where I can.” Jace held his uncle’s gaze as the older Archer looked at him for a long time. Finally, he sighed and nodded. “You follow every single instruction that is given to you. And you stay out of harms way as much as possible.” Paul clapped a hand on the young man’s shoulder before stepping a little closer. “And if your father asks, this was ALL your idea.” Edited by Jace Archer, Jan 28 2017, 05:01 AM.
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| Darcy Bishop | Feb 2 2017, 06:29 PM Post #2 |
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“I want to join.” The stark statement was announced unceremoniously by a girl who stood in the middle of the room. A girl who held the glint of steel in her expressive eyes. “Join what, Darcy?” the Healer sighed wearily, her attention focused solely on her unconscious patient. For a moment, Darcy felt a twinge of guilt as she glanced at the older woman’s careworn expression. Circles of exhaustion dipped beneath tired eyes and her languid movements bespoke of long restless nights working. She quickly quashed the feeling. If there was something Darcy had learned in the past two months it was that you had to be ruthless to survive. “I want to join,” she repeated in a measured pace, fully knowing that the older woman knew exactly what she was talking about. Confirming her suspicion, Gretchen sighed, seeming to sag slightly as she finished wrapping the linen bandage around the boys head. She wasn’t the only Healer who had volunteered her help at Hogwarts, but she was by far one of the most dedicated. This was why they were currently the only two cognizant individuals in the hospital wing at this late hour. “Darcy…” she started guardedly. “I want to join!” Darcy cut her off, much more forcibly this time, her voice rising from her vehemence. “Darcy!” Gretchen exclaimed, a resolute warning in her eyes as she cast a silencing spell on the room and each injured body that slept in it. “You will keep your voice down in the presence of my patients,” she snapped. Darcy merely glared at her, chin rising defiantly. Gretchen sighed again, massaging her brow with a tired hand. “It’s not that simple, Darcy,” she attempted to explain. Darcy was having none of it. “Why not?” “Because it isn’t,” she replied exasperatedly. “That’s not good enough,” Darcy retorted lowly. “You are too young, Darcy,” Gretchen replied instead. There was a long pause as Darcy sucked in an angry breath. “Too young?” she questioned in a heated tone. “Too young? Tell me. Was I too young when Kate and I were attacked by two thugs in this very castle? Or how about when that … that bastard ripped my arm out of its socket?” Her breath hitched, angry patches flaming across otherwise colorless cheeks. “Was I too young when Reed kidnapped me and tried to kill me? Was I too young then Gretchen? Because nobody else seemed to care! Nobody else seemed to think I was too young to die.” Gretchen flinched at the last word, pained gaze sweeping over the furious girl, taking in the sling that still bound her arm. Nobody had yet had the time or the strength to fully heal it magically, what with all the other disastrous, life-threatening injuries that had to come first. Noting where Gretchen’s attention had focused, Darcy instead flicked a gaze around the room, reminded once more of shadowy bodies and the sickening copper smell that she swore she still caught a whiff of in some halls. Her chest heaved as she visibly vibrated from the effort to swallow her temper. Gretchen, understanding Darcy better than anyone, knowing that her compassion and sympathy were certainly not wanted, busied herself with packing up the bandages. Finally composing herself, Darcy continued on in a more controlled tone. “Why can’t I join, Gretchen? Why can’t I learn how to properly defend myself?” “Is that why you are joining, Darcy?” she questioned, halting her movements to stare directly at the young girl with a penetrating eye. There was something knowing in the look directed at her, something that had Darcy bristling. “Well obviously!” Darcy retorted harshly, albeit a bit defensively. “This isn’t about impressing a certain boy? Or, trying to save a certain boy? You do realize who he is, don’t you?” “Yes I know who he is,” Darcy snapped immediately, completely outraged now. How could she think this was about Alex? It had nothing to do with him! For Merlin’s sake, the idea of doing this to save him was beyond absurd. Nobody could save Alex but himself. Darcy could do her best to help but ultimately that power was not in her hands. No, this was something more than that. So much more. “Then you can see why I would be concerned. You are already known to Marcus Reed through his nephew and his son. You are already in immeasurable danger.” Darcy snorted. As if she hadn’t figured that one out already! The snort did nothing to lighten the mood. “Darcy, this is not a game!” Gretchen warned, “Nor is it about childish feuds or settling scores or… proving something to certain individuals.” “I know it’s not a game!” Darcy snarled, fist clenching at her side. “Is that so?” Gretchen probed with an unreadable expression on her face. “Then why is it that I see a rash girl before me with wounded pride who is itching for a fight?” “You weren’t there!” The words ripped themselves from Darcy’s throat in an anguished cry, surprising both Gretchen and herself. She had no idea she was going to utter them and yet now they lay between the two, echoing in the sudden silence. “No I was not,” Gretchen spoke calmly when it became clear that Darcy wasn’t going to elaborate. “And since you have yet to speak about it, from what I have gathered you and your friend Kate were attacked in the Armory and after you both managed to get to safety relatively unscathed, you instead went off to pick a fight with Marcus Reed’s son, which resulted in serious injuries.” “You don’t understand,” Darcy muttered bitterly, a storm swirling in her eyes. “Then make me understand.” There was sincerity in the words and when Darcy looked up into her adopted Aunts face, she found only worry and affection. “You want to understand? You do?” Darcy bit out, unwilling to let her anger completely drain, “Well imagine a young, inexperienced girl who was supposed to be in detention finding herself with the impossible task of keeping herself and her best friend alive for the next ten minutes and then realizing how utterly and completely outmatched they were.” Gretchen had moved around the bed, blurring in Darcy’s sight as tears frustratingly gathered in the corners of her eyes. “I was helpless. I couldn’t protect them. They were my friends and I couldn’t protect them!” “Shh…” Gretchen soothed, attempting to gather Darcy in her arms, but the young, ever stubborn girl shoved her away, dashing the unbidden tears angrily from her eyes before they had the chance to fall. “Don’t! I don’t want your pity,” Darcy pointed out roughly, ignoring the crestfallen expression on Gretchen’s face, even as the older woman sighed in acknowledgement. This was Darcy after all. The girl was as easy to hug as a cactus. “I want your help,” Darcy continued gruffly, her pride wincing at the word ‘help’. “I want your help to train. And if you don’t help me, I will find somebody else who will.” And that was the catch wasn’t it? When a girl had both an overabundance of stubbornness and pride, she usually got her way. Gretchen considered her for a moment, not giving in without one further confirmation. “Did you purposely go looking for Kyle Reed?” ”I have to find him.” The words had been uttered to Kate when the whole world had seemed to shatter around them. But the him in question had dark locks that fell into his eyes and a crooked, adoring smile. “No.” It was easy to say and Gretchen nodded at the honesty. Except that now that Darcy thought about it, she wondered if she hadn’t hoped she would meet Kyle along the way. She wondered if she could have simply run in the opposite direction when his words had stopped her dead in that fateful corridor. She wondered if perhaps Gretchen hadn’t stumbled upon an ounce of truth. Darcy was out for Kyle’s blood. But all that mattered now was that she would train. And that was how she came to be sitting in dear old Professor Templeton’s house, wedged securely between Edmund and Gretchen. The retired professor kept shooting her wary glances, as if Darcy was going to suddenly launch herself from the seat and pull a missile out of her back pocket. It was one time for fuck’s sake. When she disappeared, Darcy breathed an almost audible sigh of relief, though it was difficult to relax in the presence of so many adults. Especially when half of them seemed to be teachers. Yet when the matronly woman toddled back into the room with two strangers following behind moments after, Darcy couldn’t quite keep herself from saying aloud, “Oi. Who’s the ‘Puff?” Edmund elbowed her good-naturedly, but Darcy’s question had effectively caught the adult’s attention and all eyes swiveled to the tall boy. Naturally, the only two kids at this meeting were unceremoniously shoved into the kitchen while the “grown-ups” discussed what they were going to do now that there were two of them, and good Merlin, what would happen if this epidemic of wanting to join the resistance spread! Darcy blew her bangs out of her eyes and settled herself on the pristine counter. What had Edmund said before practically punting her off to the children’s table? Oh right something along the lines of “now you go off and make nice with the other kids”. Good thing she had absolutely no bloody idea how to do that. She would just ignore him, as she usually did, but if they were supposed to be fighting together she didn’t think that would work so well. And wasn’t she supposed to be putting on a good face so that she could stay? Being on her best manners or something like that? What did kids talk about nowadays anyways? “So,” she queried bluntly, “You get laid lately?” |
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| Jace Archer | Feb 6 2017, 06:48 PM Post #3 |
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He’d made it into the meeting, that was a first step, right? Although if Paul Archer had his way, Jace was going to be relegated to the sidelines for the rest of his natural life. Not that Jace was looking to jump into a fight. (okay so maybe a small part of him really REALLY wanted to punch Kyle Reed’s smug little face... a lot)But Jace wasn’t a complete moron. He knew that realistically his chances of surviving against any of Reed Sr’s adult supporters was practically nonexistent so he wasn’t looking to join the front lines of the resistance. At least not right away. But he had hoped that he’d at least get to sit through a meeting. There were very few faces that he recognized. He listened to the chit chat for a few minutes. He was beginning to doubt that he was even at a Resistance meeting. They were chatting about the weather and current events in the most benign way possible. Maybe they were trying to bore him out of the meeting. If they could get him to lose interest, then they wouldn’t have to discuss whether or not he should be allowed to join. He was beginning to feel as though he had intruded on the most boring meeting of his uncle’s bridge club rather than the organization of the witches and wizards who were going to take down the darkest wizard to threaten the wizarding community since the days of Voldemort. “Oi. Who’s the ‘Puff?” A voice from the other side of the room cut through the soft din of chatter. And just like that, every single pair of eyes was on him. He straightened his shoulders and looked awkwardly around the room. It took only a few seconds before he and the young brunette, who had asked the question, were hustled off into the tiny spotless kitchen. “How will I ever learn if you push me off to the kiddie table? I’m definitely old enough to sit through a meeting, Paul.” As Paul ushered him in, Jace tried to plead his case again. His uncle was unrelenting. Jace folded his arms over his chest and dropped into a chair “This is not fair.” “Yep. That goes a long way to proving your maturity, kid.” Paul’s eyes crinkled slightly in the corners as he tried not to laugh at his nearly pouting nephew. “Hang out in here while we discuss you two.” Jace had recognized Darcy Bishop almost immediately. (‘almost’ because it took a few minutes to place her when she wasn’t brandishing a bazooka with owl feathers poking out of her dark hair and blood spattered on her clothing) Being sent off to the kiddie table with Darcy Bishop? Not a great start. “So,” she queried bluntly, “You get laid lately?” Jace looked up at her abrupt and incredibly awkward question. He blinked at her for a few seconds before grinning back at her. “Was that… an... offer?” He asked just as bluntly. “I mean, thanks. I’m flattered but I’m with someone.” Was he ‘with’ someone though? He wanted to be with Nicolette with all his heart, but she was true to the cause she stood behind. As much as he wanted to free her from her ties to Reed, she was a fiercely loyal woman who wouldn’t waiver. An idea Jace had to resign himself to and was having a difficult time doing so. He could only hope Darcy didn’t take offence to his refusal. He had a feeling that insulting Darcy Bishop in that way would likely end up with a number of life threatening injuries and quite possibly a hostage situation. Though, he was fairly certain there was no real offer there. Bishop had gained more than her fair share of notoriety in their school and with that came being the subject of schoolyard gossip on a regular basis. And, granted, most of the time it was tales of wanton destruction, unparalleled chaos and indiscriminate fowl carnage. Very occasionally, however, there were tales of her romantic life. And he’d heard one of those rumours quite recently. “Besides, I thought you were with that Daniels girl? What’s her name… Kate?” It was quite common to see them running through the halls holding hands. Okay... so less ‘hand holding’ and more ‘Darcy dragging the poor girl behind her into whatever chaos she was about to create’. “She seems very nice.” Jace didn’t wait for an answer as he got up and pressed his ear to the closed door separating them from the meeting. He couldn’t hear a sound. They’d obviously used a silencing spell. He reached into the front pocket of his jeans to withdraw a few small plastic packages. A giant picture of an ear on the front of each pack. “Extendable ears.” He explained as he set one on the counter for Darcy. He quickly tore his own open to try and listen in on what the rest of the meeting was saying while they were stuck in the kitchen. |
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| Darcy Bishop | Feb 13 2017, 09:25 PM Post #4 |
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The fair-haired boy glanced up at her blankly, causing Darcy to momentarily wonder if he was a virgin. In the next second a grin overtook his face. Damn but him being a virgin would have been extremely interesting. Explaining basic reproduction would have been a hell of a way to spend her boring evening locked in a kitchen. She was actually fairly sure the pledge of abstinence currently going around the school was due to her attempting to explain sex to a couple of first years by substituting in turtles for birds and swordfish for bees. Because turtles laid eggs too and well, swordfish for imagery. Scarred for life! And you’re welcome Reynolds. “Was that… an…offer?” he questioned finally, perplexed. Darcy tilted her head slightly as she regarded him. The defined cheekbones, cleft chin, hair sticking up every which way… yeah she could see it. There was a certain boyish charm there as if he perpetually held himself back from laughing. His eyes were different though. Darker. Sorrow mixed in with the swirl of brown and green. But that was a wound they all had tucked away somewhere. “I mean, thanks. I’m flattered but I’m with someone,” he finished. Darcy made a face. As if she was considering him. Just because she understood how some girls might fancy him, didn’t mean he was her type. There was a distinct lack of sharp edges, murmuring voice, and calculating stare. A pang resounded through her chest, one she identified later as being loneliness. She missed him. “Besides, I thought you were with that Daniels girl?” the boy interrupted her musings. “What’s her name… Kate?” Well well well. That certainly explained it. She wondered what Jack’s revenge was going to be after Kate and she had dyed his girlfriend’s hair bubble gum pink. Ok, so technically she was the one who put a charm on the bottle and then handed it to Kate when Evelyn asked her angelic friend if she had any spare shampoo… but that was neither here nor there. Besides the “She-Devil”, Darcy’s nickname for Jack’s girlfriend which he apparently did not find amusing, was having a horrible effect on one of her best friends and pranking companion extraordinaire. Case in point this offensively unimaginable rumor he had created. For Merlin’s sake, at least put her and Kate in the middle of a love triangle with the Giant Squid or something. That at least would explain why they went on afternoon submarine raids – did she say raids? She meant swims… definitely took the submarine on an afternoon swim. “She seems very nice.” “Mmhmm…” Darcy hummed, swinging her legs slightly as she watched the boy shuffle about the kitchen with a determined air. “She certainly looks it. Not many know that her mother was a siren though,” Darcy supplied nonchalantly, watching the boy press his ear to the closed door. “Not exactly someone you would want to karaoke with.” Likely not listening to her (whatever, the concept was now planted), the boy decided to pull a giant ear out of his pocket, setting one down on the counter next to her as he unwrapped his own. “Extendable ears,” he clarified, using it in an attempt to listen in on the meeting going on outside. Darcy could care less. Whatever they were deciding about the two students didn’t matter. She would train. “Whatever floats your boat,” she shrugged, immediately clambering down from the counter so that she could rifle through the cupboards and drawers. Spatulas, utensils, oven mitts, cat food, stale crackers, more cat food, bourbon… bourbon? Old lady had some class after all. She placed the bourbon on the counter just in case. “Tea towel, dish towel, a gross moldy rag, knives! Oh wait they were blunt. Plates, bowls, cat food again… Merlin did the woman eat? Wasn’t it a law that grandmotherly witches always had a cookie jar with freshly baked treats on hand? With a sigh, Darcy jumped up onto the counter so as to be able to see above the cabinets. She was a crafty one after all, she may have deduced that Darcy would attempt to eat all her cookies if left in the kitchen for too long and thus hide her old lady treats. No jar. Nothing but a cup. A cup that was glowing a sickly green color. Well that was unnatural. “Hey Puff,” she called down to the boy. “On a scale of kitten to surface-to-air missile, how dangerous do you think a glowing green cup is?” She peered at the cup that was just out of her reach, intensely curious and extremely unsatisfied that she had never heard of such a thing before. She really wanted to touch it. “I’m thinking it’s about as dangerous as an ogre with a toothache but not quite to the point of peril that burning Shaw’s favorite peacock headdress would get you.” So a solid seven. |
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4:27 AM Jul 11