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Post by purrfection on Oct 28, 2007 13:06:12 GMT -6
For the students of Hogwarts, the end of the first quarter meant that they wouldn't have to worry about rescuing their grades from failure--not for another nine weeks, at least. They could go on doing whatever it was that they did when they weren't in class: making out, having sex, breaking up, getting back together, having make-up sex, breaking up again, raping kids in order to spark jealousy...
Though this may be somewhat of an exaggeration, the professors had a pretty good idea of what their students were up to when they weren't in class, and most of the time it wasn't homework. Most of the staff had come to terms with the fact that no matter what subject they taught, they were going to get some slackers and there were going to be bad grades. It had become widely accepted that just so long as there were a few students in one's class getting good grades, one was not a completely lousy teacher. So when it came time for the professors to calculate their students grades and send them to the Headmistress, each one did so with their ego locked away and a proud exceptance of their class. The way they saw it, they had to be decent at their job if they'd been hired in the first place. So what if they had to give out a few 'trolls'? Nobody was perfect. Just look at the Headmistress.
It bothered Michael Dubois considerably less when his students earned horrible marks. History was a tough class, one that, though Michael understood it perfectly, required a lot of time and good study habits to pass. He was pretty sure that his classes had the worst grades of all, but, being not terribly competitive, it only made him want to create more engaging lesson plans. He knew some of the other professors were concerned with the competitive aspect of it, and he was somewhat taken aback to hear that one of them had not turned in their grades, even a week after they were due.
Michael's job was not to compile, record, or even look at the grades of any classes besides his own. That was left to Brigitta. But since she was busy anyway and he'd had a free morning, he'd offered to go the Herbology professor and recover the missing grade report. Michael thought the Herbology Gardens were quite pretty. They were much prettier in the spring, of course... it was autumn now and all the flowers were losing their bright colors. Crisp leaves were strewn across the stone paths that lead to the professor's office, and it appeared to Michael that nobody had walked there in at least a few days.
He knocked on the greenhouse door. No answer. He knocked again. Still no answer. A brisk wind blew a gust of chilly fall air against him and Michael shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket. It seemed no one was around, but he really didn't blame them. You'd have to be crazy to be outside on a cold day like this.
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Post by Tori on Oct 28, 2007 15:23:47 GMT -6
Judging by the way Katharine wanted to conjure up a few thousand more blankets when she woke up in her small bed, it was chilly outside. Cold enough to not get sweaty, but warm enough to not die of hypothermia if she dressed warm enough. Deciding that it was a good temperature, Katharine threw off the covers and leapt out of bed. She would do some early-morning exercising before her shower. Throwing her hair sloppily back into a knot and changing into her pink sweats and matching zip-up jacket, the woman filled up a water bottle and headed out of her office. It was a good thing that the cold came on this day, or Katharine might have imploded. She just let Ruana Sremmos out of the hospital. She'd been raped--again--but not only that, she was bitten by a vampire, who happened to be the one to rape her. She was now a vampire. Katharine would swear that whoever controlled this girl's life absolutely loved to torture her ((MUAHAHAHAHAHAH!)) So not only did Katharine have to cure this girl again, she had o supply her with blood to drink so that no one would be harmed. Katharine was now required to leave a jug of blood in a secret place that only Ruana, Katharine, Michael, Brigitta, and a few of Ruana's closest friends could know about. Not only that, so many people had sprained their ankles at the Masquerade (Girls mostly; stupid heels), that Katharine found herself running around the Hospital Wing, curing foot after foot. One couple had tried to do some impossible dance move, and now they could not untangle themselves from one another: literally. Finally, though, Katharine sorted it all out, and those who needed rest were resting. Unice was there if anyone needed her. Of course, this did not give Katharine full comfort. It did, however, make her feel slightly less guilty about leaving her post, for at least the woman knew a little bit about healing. She only hoped no boys decided to die this morning. So now, as Katharine opened the huge oak doors to the grounds, she was pleasantly greeted with a crisp fall breeze and a sweet, fresh smell. Smiling and taking a swig of her water, Katharine began to jog, her new white trainers giving her a bit more bounce and comfort. It was nice. The nurse jogged all the way down to the gamekeeper's hut and traced the forest edge, stopping only once for a drink and a breath. It was exhilarating; the chilly air filling her lungs, the leaves crackling under her feet, and the way it woke her up. Stopping again for another drink, Katharine looked ahead of her. The Herbology Gardens. If she jogged, she would arrive there in about thirty seconds. If she sprinted; ten. Deciding that morning was not the time to push oneself, Katharine jogged lightly over to the gardens, stopping on a leaf-strewn cobblestone path about five meters away from the greenhouse. Taking one last drink, Katharine decided what she needed to do. Yoga. She set down her water bottle, stretched a bit, and inhaled deeply. Smiling, the woman sat down on the walkway and layed back. On an inhale, she kicked her legs up and pushed them behind her, so that the back of her toes were grazing the ground above her head and the only other parts of her touching the floor were her head, her arms, and shoulder blades. The strain on her muscles felt fantastic. She felt as though the stress that running didn't do away with was being relaxed away by this wonderful position. After a few minutes in this position, Katharine eased herself back into the laying position and pushed herself into the standing position. Next, she spread her feet about a meter apart and folded herself in half. The top of her head was barely grazing the ground, and she hugged her legs. This, too, felt wonderful on her tense muscles, and Katharine closed her eyes blissfully. Aabout a minute before Katharine changed positions again, she heard a knock. It didn't phase her; she was in her zone. Inhaling again, Katharine smiled, letting herself relax. The knock again. Katharine's eyes snapped open, ready to roundabout-kick-to-the-face whoever is was that disturbed her. And then Katharine changed her verb from "roundabout-kick-to-the-face" to "squeal", because of who she saw. "Michael!" The petite woman squeaked excitedly before toppling over. (In case you can't imagine the yoga positions: here and here ) Admin Edit: 2 Galleons given by Purr
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Post by purrfection on Oct 28, 2007 16:24:27 GMT -6
Michael stared at the mossy wooden door in front of him and contemplated whether or not it would be worth it to take one of his hands out of the warmth of his pocket to knock again. It was pretty obvious no one was inside. He'd knocked, what, twice? One knock was polite, and adding a second knock--just to make sure the first one hadn't been overlooked--was fine. But three? Knocking three times was just plain rude. The last thing Michael wanted to be was rude. If that's what his colleague wanted, rudeness, then Michael could most certainly give her some. He could just walk away, back to his cozy office, say that the Herbology gardens had been devoid of heterotrophic life and then he could just give it a week or two or twelve and Brigitta would come down to gardens herself to get the Herbology grades and that, that would be rude.
After thinking about it for a moment, Michael decided that maybe that was a little too harsh than this professor deserved. He wondered where she was. He stepped to the side of the greenhouse and peered around it, through the large, dying growths of plants and trees. Nothing moved, save for the occasional leaf by wind or acorn by squirrel. Michael squinted. The small furry creature a ways away indeed an acorn in its mouth, no doubt held in place by the cute little set of fangs lining both its jaws. It's beady red eyes and abnorally large donkey-like ears were facing 180 degree angles from eachother, one set seeming to focus on him and the other on some hybernating mandrake roots in the distance. Nature sure was coughing up interesting squirrels these days.
Michael edged back over to the door and considered knocking again, maybe louder, just to make sure everything was alright. He, along with everyone else, had become a bit paranoid after Ruana Sremmos had been violated at the masquerade--raped and bitten by her attacker, a vampire. No one had known until it was already over. Michael was beginning to think he wasn't living up to his word. He'd told Ruana in July that nothing like this would ever happen to her again, yet it had. He really wasn't sure what to say to her anymore. If she couldn't trust him, what he was he supposed to give her? Michael checked the frosted window next to the door--he saw nothing moving inside. He could only pray that the professor was safe and sound, maybe in the castle somewhere, and that there were no serial rapists lurking about, watching his every move, preparing to jump him and--
"Michael!"
"Oh my God!" Jerking around, Michael slammed his back against the door and tried to spot the source of the voice. It wasn't difficult--it was pink, and it looked a lot like... "Katharine?" She was in the oddest position Michael had ever seen in his life. On the ground, on her back, her arms weaved around her legs tightly. Before, Michael's voice had carried mostly surprise. Now, it was concern. "Oh, God, Katharine. What are you... are you..." He was kneeling down next to her a matter of seconds, trying and failing to figure out what it was Katharine was trying to accomplish by imitating a pretzel. "You're okay... right?" She didn't look to be in pain, no matter how painful it looked. He took his hands out of his jacket, poised to help her but really having no idea where to start.
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Post by Tori on Oct 31, 2007 18:51:22 GMT -6
Katharine Moss was an extremely flexible and multitalented woman. There were certain things she couldn't do, of course, like deal with death, think before she spoke, or sit still for more than thirty minutes, but when it came to physical activity or music, Katharine was able to do it all. For example, she could beat box, rap, sing, and play the piano. She could also do Tae Kwon Do, aerobics, yoga, and probably something else weird, too, like sumo-wrestling. Of couse, she'd need to eat more of those cookies, because she was not nearly fat enough to sumo wrestle.
Needless to say, the only thing that hurt about the position Katharine was in was that when she fell, she rolled a bit and hit her head on the cobblestone. In fact, she found the situation quite humorous. Michael seemed horrified.
"Oh my God! Katharine? Oh, God, Katharine. What are you... are you...You're okay... right?"
Katharine laughed at the crouching Michael and eased herself out of the position, now laying down. "I'm fine, Michael," she said, smiling. "It's yoga. Not painful. You just excited me, and the excitement...tripped...me..." Katharine furrowed her brows and sat up, giving Michael a quick "how-do-you-do" kiss. She felt that since they were both aware that they loved one another, they could do that in the open.
But it wasn't like anyone would see anyways. Katharine was the only one crazy enough to willingly go outside in this weather, and enjoy it. "Gosh," Katharine said, reaching for her water bottle and falling over again. She took a drink. "What a beautiful day. Not a raincloud in sight. A little chilly, but it's perfect running weather. What do you say, Michael? Up for a run?"
Katharine's grin quirked wickedly as she smiled up at him from where her head rested by his knee. She didn't bother getting up after falling toward her water. "It would be fun. And you're all up for health, right? I think I might have run off a box of those cookies by now. I do it every morning, when it's nice enough. If it's not, I go to the Room of Requirements. Usually it's raining, but today was perfect. What's your excuse for being outside?"
Of course Katharine didn't realize that she had diarrhea of the mouth. She never did. When she had endorphines like she did right now, nothing could stop her, unless someone pointed a wand to her head and threatened to AK her. Well, no, in that case, she'd start telling her life story so a nearby journalist could document it. She wanted to be remembered.
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Post by mila2007 on Nov 18, 2007 15:42:27 GMT -6
Dane was starting to know how celebrities felt. It wasn't all flashing lights, rapid questions, glamour, and the occasional adopted baby from Africa. He had wanted to keep a low profile around the school after his "suicide" for what he believed to be three reasons out of the four. Suicides didn't result in adopted babies from Africa (unless those Muggles Angelina and Madonna decided to end their lives anytime soon).
He'd just layed low in his room or with Dani, seeing as she was the only sole person to know he was alive. But as the days passed, he knew he had to get back in school and at least sorta-kinda listen to what was being said so he could graduate. And he knew he should at least see Michael. He was the sort of person Dane could trust in a time like this. When Dani had told him that they were now his "parents" it had ached and been hilarious at the same time. The aching had been a bit more prominent, and he guessed that was because he had been free lancing for the past three months and imposter Dane had been getting attention and kindness...
And sparkly light ponies.
Sighing, he sat on the window nook staring absently outside. The view wasn't that great, seeing as he was almost in the bowels of the school, but it was decent. He could at least see some of the flying pitch and a path. For someone trying to keep a low profile, he certainly was displaying the fact that he was there by sitting in front of a window. But hey, maybe the kids would think they saw his ghost or something. Sweet. The trees outside were in various stages of gold which made the school ground appear cheerful. Presently, he saw a figure walk down the path to the Herbology Gardens. Dane sat up a little, pressing his hands to the glass. It was Professor Dubois, walking down to the Herbology Gardens. Alone, by himself. How perfect could this oppurtunity be?
Dane jumped up and scrabbled for the door. He stopped, hand on the doorknob. He didn't want to be noticed by anyone else. "I should probably put some pants on then," he decided, rummaging around on the floor to find a pair of clean trousers. How traumatic that would be. Dane's ghost found in the Great Hall, without pants. He pulled a pair on and headed for the door. It was opened slowly. He peeked around it. Good, there was no one. Thank god his House was in the cellars so he wouldn't have a long way to walk to get outside. He soon found himself out of his portrait and walking down the hallway, up the stairs, and up to the ground floor. He hid behind a tapestry when a gaggle of girls walked past. Peeking out again, he cursed. There were people in front of the door! Thinking fast, he ducked back behind the tapestry and ripped a long sheet from the other side of it. He'd pocketed his glasses as well just for safety's sake.
Never knew when someone was going to spitball you in the eye.
He put them on, then adorned the scarf around his neck. He smoothed his hair down, then proceeded to inconspicuously walk out of the tapestry hiding place. He walked briskly to the door, and was pleased that he only caught a little attention. Once outside, he sighed in relief. Taking the scarf off but leaving the glasses, he planned his next move. He was like that Muggle girl. The one everyone couldn't catch she was so sneeky. She was a hero in their eyes and everyone looked up to her. Plus, she had an awesome hat.
Of course, it was Carmen San Diego.
Dane liked the sound of that. Dane San Diego. But there would be time to change names later, he had to find Michael now. He took the off path route to the Herbology Gardens, ducking behind trees and crawling through the grass. Even though there was hardly anyone outside... Rolling behind a bush, he peeked out. Michael was knocking on the doors of one of the greenhouses. Okay, good. Now all he had to do was wait until he went inside then-
Dane paused. Why was Michael going to the Herbology Gardens? Wasn't he a ... What did he teach again? Dane frowned, putting a hand to his chin. Everytime he'd been in a class before he'd always heard, "Blah blah blah, Dane stop that. Blah blah blah blah blah Ike, sit down please. Blah blah blah 1492." Oh, of course. Michael taught numbers and stuff like that. Dane nodded, proud of himself. He looked back at where Michael had been previously and cursed. He was gone! That meant he'd gone in. He rolled down the path, skittering behind a large rock then dove for some shrubbery.
Peering over a greenhouse window, he looked to the right then the left. Was that Katharine? She was in some awkward position and Michael was kneeling next to her.
Dane, being an American, quickly thought what anyone would think in this situation. Sex. Michael and Katharine were dating! Maybe the-
Whoa, deja vu.
Shaking it off, Dane stood and walked to the greenhouse door. For once in his life, he was figuring out how to not make an entrance. Michael had knocked, maybe that was how he could do it.
So Dane did just that.
"KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!" His hand never even touched the door.
Hmm, maybe that wasn't right...
Admin Edit: 2 Galleons given by Purr
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Post by purrfection on Nov 18, 2007 18:01:37 GMT -6
Michael's expression was wide-eyed as Katharine un-pretzel-fied herself. Her light-hearted laughter did nothing to convince him that everything was just fine, but it almost got him to smile. Her body had been bent in one way that the human body was not meant to bend, there was no way it could do good. He was eager to see her sitting normally, but he didn't want to help her in fear of hurting her somehow. Maybe it was silly, but Michael had a tendency to put effort into worrying over things that didn't deserve a second thought--especially when it concerned people he cared about.
"I'm fine, Michael.
Michael relaxed. He was curious as to know how she was fine after that.
""It's yoga. Not painful."
This confused Michael greatly. Not only did those two sentences contradict eachother, one of them carried the word 'painful', which had much more significance than the word 'not'.
"You just excited me, and the excitement...tripped...me..."
"Oh. Right." He nodded, giving her a 'well, that explains everything' look. In reality, the quota of things that had been explained was very close to nothing, but, being male, he had a good idea that the best decipherable explanation he would ever get had just been presented to him. He took it without complaint, awarded Katharine a small smile in exchange for her kiss, and promptly turned the volume down on whatever she said next, so as to give himself a moment to investigate for himself whether anything was actually wrong.
It was then when Michael found that a good ninety-five percent of Katharine's clothing was pink. On the color wheel, pink was only a few hues away from red. Red was the color of blood. How was he supposed to know if Katharine was bleeding to death?! The blood would blend right in. Michael panicked. Conveniently, he forgot that Katharine was a thousand-times more qualified to make medical judgements than he was. He could still make judgements, though. They didn't have to be good ones.
Katharine continued to talk, but Michael only caught bits and pieces. "What a beautiful..." Oh God. Was that a...? Yes. Yes, that was definitely blood. Michael squinted at a dark shadow that had landed on Katharine's ribcage, right next to her right breast. What a horrible place to be injured. Good thing it wasn't on the other side or she would be in trouble. "...Michael? Up for a run?"
"Uh..." To be honest, Michael was not interested in answering the question so much as telling Katharine to check and see if she was bleeding out her lungs.
"It would be fun. And you're all up for health, right? I think I might have run off a box of those cookies by now. I do it every morning, when it's nice enough. If it's not, I go to the Room of Requirements. Usually it's raining, but today was perfect. What's your excuse for being outside?"
"Uh... uh... " Blood. "I..." Lots of blood. "... was, uh, just..." Lots and lots of blood. "...trying to find the, uh..." BLEEDING. "... Herbology Professor..." Michael face had gone very pale and he was staring at that spot on Katharine's chest as if it were about to explode. Then a cloud moved and the shadow disappeared. Michael, shaken, tried to complete his sentence, this time looking at Katharine's face. "I-I need to get last quarter's grades from the Herbology Professor. She doesn't seem to be aroun--"
"KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!"
Since Michael was already rattled from thinking so much about blood, and since he had no idea anyone else was in the gardens besides he and Katharine, the sudden noise scared to death. If he had been more collected, he might have jumped up on his feet. Alas, Michael was far from collected. He fell sideways onto Katharine--he was so used to this happening by now that it didn't phase him at all. Needless to say, he recognized the voice.
"DANE, don't DO that!" He exhaled heavily, about to apologize to Katharine, then stopped dead. For a moment, his brain malfunctioned. That couldn't be Dane. Dane was dead. But whoever this was sounded just like him. Michael scrambled off of Katharine and turned around to find the source of the voice. He was greeted with the sight of a boy who wore a scarf and sunglasses. The boy's hair was smoothed back in a way that didn't seem normal, but it was just the right color, a perfect match...
But there was no way.
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Post by Tori on Nov 18, 2007 20:45:32 GMT -6
Michael seemed very preoccupied and disoriented. He wasn't responding correctly. In fact, he was barely responding at all. Something seemed to be eating at his brains. Termites, perhaps. Or maybe a mutated billywig. Katharine had heard of a lot of those going around and had been aching to get her hands on one, to figure out how to mutate creatures' DNA so it had medicinal properties.
And then, Michael started speaking semi-coherently. "Uh" was his new favorite word.
"Uh... uh...I...... was, uh, just......trying to find the, uh... Herbology Professor..."
Katharine then figured out what was distracting Michael. She noticed where his eyes were focused and raised an eyebrow. "Michael..." she began, but shook her head. Trying to avert his attention was a lost cause. It was the same with all men. Once they realized that you had breasts, they stared at them until the shock was over.
"I-I need to get last quarter's grades from the Herbology Professor. She doesn't seem to be aroun--"
"KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!"
The sudden loud noise made Katharine do a weird mega-convuslion-twitch and just as Michael moved, she cracked her nose against Michael's knee. Blood streamed down her face and her eyes watered from the pain. Putting a hand to her face and ignoring the Michael that was now positioned on top of her, she looked up to where the noise was coming from. It was a tall guy with dark hair, but it was a student. Her eyes were blurred, but it almost looked like--
"DANE, don't DO that!"
Katharine blinked and suddenly her eyes were clear. She squinted and then widened her eyes. They must have been deceiving her. They must have. There was no way that Dane, Dane whose body she examined and pronounced dead, was standing before her. No way. Breathing slowly, she removed her bloody hand from her nose and tugged on Michael's sleeve.
"Michael," she whispered. "Michael, Michael. I...I see dead people..."
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Post by mila2007 on Nov 18, 2007 22:49:19 GMT -6
...
There were no lights? No on scene reporter? Not even a welcoming committee? Dane frowned. His arrival was one of joyous celebration and instead of worshipping or even saying, 'Are you okay!?' they looked stunned. Katharine even had a bloody nose. Dane concluded his arrival was so amazing, her brain had exploded causing blood to exit via her nose.
In a sense, it was flattering. No one had bled for him before.
"DANE, don't DO that!"
Now he not only frowned but looked offended. Michael was already yelling at him about something. He wasn't even in class! And he was only standing there! See if he ever came "back from the dead" for them again! He rid himself of the tattered cloth around his neck and pushed his shades up on his head. "Michael... Michael, Michael. I...I see dead people..."
Now he looked dead!? Pale, rotting, and gross smelling?! Dane sniffed his armpit. He smelled fine, not even the slightest hint of BO on him. "Ah, thank you Irish Spring," he said dreamily, before looking back at them and acting offended.
The dead reference was the proverbial cherry on the proverbial cake. Dane turned away from them huffily, crossing his arms and narrowing his eyes to look back the way he had come. "I feel UN-APPRECIATED." The bloody nose was the only thing keeping him from just walking away. If they wanted to shack up in the greenhouse that's all they had to say! After the way Michael had ogled Katharine's flotation devices, there was no mistaking their affection for each other. Continuing to act hurt and offended, he kicked some dirt on the path and mumbled. "I'll just leave you two alone so you can do it in the greenhouse..."
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Post by purrfection on Nov 22, 2007 21:45:40 GMT -6
Michael's expression was much the same as if they were in Puritan New England and Dane-a-tron the Transformer had just crash-landed on the only outhouse within five miles and waste had gone flying everywhere. In other words, his eyes were the size of yoga balls and the rest of his face was twisted in a proclamation of 'OMGWTFGROSS'.
"Michael. Michael, Michael. I...I see dead people..."
Apparently, Katharine had passed her watery eyes to Michael, for now his eyes, in addition to being unnaturally wide, were wet and teary. It remained to be said, however, whether this was caused by the possibility of Dane standing there before them or because Katharine's face was bleeding off and there was a good chance she had gotten some of that blood on Michael's jacket. Michael had some very noteworthy comments to make about blood (if you're going to bleed to death, at least be considerate and do it away from other people) but he would save it for another time.
He just couldn't tear his eyes away from the thing he was looking at, which was Dane. Or was it? Michael decided to ask. Unfortunately, when he opened his mouth to do so, no sound came out. While Dane turned back toward the path he had come, Michael struggled to verbalize.
"I feel UN-APPRECIATED."
Michael jumped a little, startled. Katharine had pronounced Dane dead right in front of him--Michael remembered that night with more clarity than he'd have liked to. Dead people didn't talk, did they? Something about vocal chords not working too well when one is not of the living. 'Course, nowadays, you could never be too sure... oh! In the Sixth Sense Bruce Willis had definitely talked. M. Night Shyamalan movies being the good medical references they were, Michael knew that talking dead people was possible.
"I'll just leave you two alone so you can do it in the greenhouse..."
Even after he cleared his throat, his voice was shakey with confusion and a twinge of fear, like he was dealing with Chuck Norris. "D-Dane?"
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