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Post by Karstiana on Apr 23, 2008 21:18:35 GMT -6
With all his classes done for the day, Avis went back to the Ravenclaw boys dorm. He sat down on his bed and fell back. So class to graduation and yet he was no closer to finding out what had happened to Lark. Sometimes life was so impossible. He closed his eyes and thought back to the last time he had seen his sister.
Four years ago she had been only fourteen, a fourth year here at Hogwarts. They had gotten out for the summer and went home. Twice Lark had been late home from a visit with friends and then one day she had simply not returned. They had been mortal friends and nothing had proved that like the very mortal wound on Rachel Hanson’s chest when she had been found dead a week later. Gabrielle Dawson had not been found for two more months, but found she was, her eyes glazed over and her body still warm. Unlike Rachel there hadn’t been a mark on her. Four years had passed and Rachel’s twin brother, Levi Hanson had not ever been found and neither had Lark.
While Lark’s friends had been mortal their deaths had likely not been. Listed in the police report as a broken, polished stick, a wand had been found clutched in Gabrielle’s hand as if she had attempted to steal the wand out of her attacker’s hand. Perhaps that had explained the lack of marks. No mortal weapon had killed her. Magic had.
Avis pushed himself up to a sitting position, his eyes still closed. He moaned aloud as he realized it was Friday and Mom always sent an owl on Friday. It appeared likely that he was going to have to get up after all. He opened his eyes and looked around the empty room. Didn’t any of the other tenth year Ravenclaw boys come here during the day? The question wasn’t even worth contemplating, so he discarded it and stood.
Ignoring for the most part what was going on around him, which he noticed enough to realize was really nothing, he made his way to the owlery. Once there he noticed a familiar owl hanging out high above him. She was not his mother’s owl.
Shock ran through him as he stared up at her, stunned. Several minutes passed before he could even move again. He raised his arm, offering it as a perch for the small, spotted owl. Without hesitation the owl flew down. She stopped in front of him offering the small, dirty parchment in her claws to Avis. Avis slowly reached out his free hand and took the paper. The owl flew around and landed on Avis’ arm.
Though he itched to know what was on the paper he didn’t know what this old friend had been through in the years since he had seen her. He forced himself to put the paper into his pocket. Then he reached up his once more free hand and softly petted the top of her head. “Hello, Wren. How have you been?”
Wren nuzzled his hand, enjoying the attention.
Avis walked over to a place where he kept food for Nazgûl, his mother’s owl. He offered the food to the small owl, who ate it hungrily. “I’ve missed you girl. Do you know where your mistress is?”
The owl stopped eating and cocked her head. She let out a mournful sound that sent shivers through Avis’ body. Then, she spread her wings and flew away from him and up into the rafters.
With trembling hands, Avis pulled the small parchment out if his pocket. He opened it and silently read the sparse words on it. “A, FF HELP! L”. Stunned once more, Avis sunk to the ground. The paper slipped out of his fingers as Avis hit his head against the wall of the owlery and lost consciousness.
[[Edit: 1 galleons given by The Galleon Mistress.]]
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Post by Stockmon on Apr 24, 2008 17:15:04 GMT -6
It was the weekend, which meant training; at least it did for Casey Christos. Chris was off nursing a wound, quite literally. The two friends had been sword fighting, which should have gone just fine. Chris was determined that he needed to read Half Blooded which Casey could only assume had something to do with werewolves, since Chris have chopped off her hand the last time he’d tried to remove it from the grips of his best friend. But for the afternoon Casey had spent all of thirty minutes with his hat placed gently on Chris’ spikey haired head and would periodically throw out phrases like “You are an agile young human male, I’m sure you must be agreeable to the idea of sparing with your dear friend…” or the occasional phrase in Spanish and French, which Chris didn’t even respond to. But after a period of time, Chris snapped his book closed, jammed it under his pillow, and said, “Fine, if you want me stabbing a sword in your direction, I’m entirely un-opposed to the idea.” That hadn’t been the agreeable attitude Casey had wanted, but he took what he could get. They then found a dark corridor and spared with conjured swords for a good hour, until Chris, having no formal education in the matter, somehow got in the way of a practice jab of Casey’s. The gash on his leg would have, no doubt, left a nasty scar had Casey not brought a potion for just such wounds. But the remaining pain would last him most of the weekend if he refused correct medical care. This was Chris Asher; he hadn’t accepted correct medical care in years, so he returned to their bedroom, limping. He had lain in bed for the proceeding hour, reading a book and grimacing every few minutes, an ice pack and ointment applied to his wound after he changed into a pair of shorts. Now Casey had little short of no one to help him train. He could go track down that first year, but she would ask questions, and he was not willing to answer them. The other option was to train on his own, that was fine, it wasn’t as if he hadn’t done it before. It was getting late in the dark, so Casey figured he might be out until early morning, at least. In preparation for the darkness he grabbed a pair of blue jeans once he changed out of his robes, some boots, a wife beaters and a black and gray plaid button up shirt. He tucked away his want, an apple, and a pocket dictionary. Pulling his hair back into a tiny pony tail he acknowledged grudgingly that he would have to get his hair cut shortly. Once his hat was on Casey quickly went to work on a letter that he had neglected the night before, Dear Jeremiah, In regards to your question, little brother, no I do not yet have a girl-friend. I would appreciate it if you would not share this with our mother, as we both know she will only worry more. I do not, in fact, think that it is a problem to be eighteen going on nineteen and without a girlfriend or future spouse. Are you looking forward to your last school year before coming to Hogwarts, Jeremiah? I know Kelsey is looking forward to your coming in another year, she talks about you sometimes. I don’t know if she writes, and you know I do not often attempt to be in her company. Regardless, take care of Candace, I know she hates for me to miss her birthday. And yes, I promise to give Kelsey your love… reluctantly. And if I find out you only asked me to do this because you know how uncomfortable she makes me, there will be consequences, little brother, you can be sure of that. -Casey Duncan Casey grabbed up the letter and made his way towards the Owlry. It took no more time than usual, despite slinking down corridors and flipping up the last flight of stairs, and down one more just for the mere sake of it. By the time he reached the upper level of the Owlry the sun was already setting and so he nearly tripped over the body of an upper-classman. Instantly Casey recognized the fellow Ravenclaw unconscious on the floor. “Avis?!” Casey gasped, grabbing the letter to see if there was any potions on it he couldn’t make any sense of the message, and found no foul play involved. “Avis Vincent, wake up!” Casey snapped, pulling the older boy into a more comfortable sitting position farther from the stairs. Handing the letter to his brother to Moonbeam Casey started snapping his fingers at Avis, hoping to wake him without any magical assistance.
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Post by Karstiana on Apr 24, 2008 19:59:33 GMT -6
The sound of snapping registered in Avis’ head. He blinked his eyes open. He vaguely noticed that someone was in front of him trying to get his attention, but his mind was reeling.
“Lark,” he said without realizing it. After all this time he finally had some sort of clue and it was written in Lark’s own hand. He closed his eyes. How long had it been since that note had been written? What precisely did it mean? Was Lark alive? Obviously to have written the note she must have been then, but now? Was she alive now?
And what about Levi? Lark’s friend had never been found. Was he still alive? Considering the boy was nonmagical and Gabrielle’s death appeared to have been magical, Avis figured that whatever was behind this was magical, and he didn’t know how Levi may or may not have responded to that. Even if the kid was alive, he could be half crazy.
He realized that the snapping was still going on and brought him back to the present and out of his wonderings. He recognized the young man as a fellow Ravenclaw. He was an eighth year named Casey Christos and he looked worried about Avis.
Avis heaved in a deep breath, and then another. Remembering Lark’s note he looked around him for it. He saw it, but his head started spinning and he leaned back, eyes closed. After his head stopped spinning he opened his head again and looked up at Casey. “Hi.”
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Post by Stockmon on Apr 28, 2008 10:24:23 GMT -6
“Lark,” the older boy mumbled. Casey blinked, who was Lark? A pet? It was certainly not a human name, by Casey’s standards at the very least. Avis was in deep thought; it appeared, so Casey stood still for a moment. When Avis looked up he seemed to recognize Casey. Casey gave him a half smile before Avis let out a deep breath or two.
“Hi.” Avis said finally.
“Um, ailing a bit there?” Casey asked, trying to be nice as he bent to kneel down beside the other student, “Avis, care to explain who Lark is...?” Casey felt a bit incredulous that the details of the day were unimportant, so he felt the need to investigate. Training forgotten Casey decided that until Avis seemed to be alright he would have his very own spy to accompany him. “Are you feeling alright? You hit your head…” Although Casey could easily have rambled on he felt as if Avis was the sort of person who would not respond much either way, so he needed to give him time.
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Post by Karstiana on Apr 28, 2008 17:32:01 GMT -6
“Um, ailing a bit there?” Casey asked Avis. Avis managed an attempt at a smile that was more grimace than anything else. His head was ringing. That was never a good sign.
“Avis, care to explain who Lark is . . ?” Had he mentioned Lark? He must have, otherwise the younger boy would not be asking. Apparently Casey had never met Avis’ sister. Hard to believe, but she was in a different house. And it had been four years since she had attended school. “The letter?” he mumbled under his breath. Where was that letter?
“Are you feeling alright?” Not very likely. My head hurts and Lark? Is Lark alive? Avis stared at the younger boy. “You hit your head . . .” The implied question was obvious. How had Avis hit his head? Or perhaps why? He shook his head trying to clear it, or maybe just stop the ringing. “My head’s ringing. That’s not normal even considering.”
He tried to push himself up, but after a moment realized it was a pointless task and sighed. “You asked who Lark is. Four years ago we went home for the summer. She attended then.” Well, that was about as clear as mud. He exhaled slowly and looked back at Casey. “Sorry. My head’s ringing. I know I already said that, but it’s making it hard to think. Lark is my sister. Four years ago she went out with three friends. Two have been found dead, one almost definitely killed by magic. All three of her friends were nonmagical.” He exhaled again. “Today, when I came to check for an owl from my mother, she always sends an owl on Fridays. When I got here there was an owl all right, but it wasn’t mom’s. It was Lark’s.”
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Post by Stockmon on May 11, 2008 2:00:17 GMT -6
Casey noticed Avis attempt a smile, he sighed; the man was in evident pain. “The letter?” Avis mumbled. Casey quickly handed him the piece of paper.
“My head’s ringing. That’s not normal even considering.” Avis commented. Casey wanted to get him to the hospital wing, but he seemed to have more to say so Casey bit his tongue in the presence of one of the few upperclassmen in his eighth year.
“You asked who Lark is. Four years ago we went home for the summer. She attended then.” Avis explained. Casey blinked, oh… that Lark? Lark from such a long time ago? He squinted at Avis, why was he bringing up a girl who hadn’t attended in such a long time. “ “Sorry. My head’s ringing. I know I already said that, but it’s making it hard to think. Lark is my sister. Four years ago she went out with three friends. Two have been found dead, one almost definitely killed by magic. All three of her friends were nonmagical. Today, when I came to check for an owl from my mother, she always sends an owl on Fridays. When I got here there was an owl all right, but it wasn’t mom’s. It was Lark’s.”
Casey had seen Avis try to stand, but it hadn’t really worked out for the older boy. So Lark was Avis’ sister? Lark Vincent, Avis Vincent, it made sense. But the two, as best Casey could remember, did not act alike at all. Death, and a mystery, Casey bit his tongue to keep from offering his spy assistance.
“Would you like some help… getting up? Or… if you want any help regarding this letter and such, it would… serve me a great honor to assist you.” Casey said it in such a way as if he had not said something sounding quite abnormal. He was more concerned with helping Avis than sounding normal, so he hadn’t even noticed the formal sound of what he had just said.
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Post by Karstiana on May 20, 2008 17:11:51 GMT -6
Avis sighed in relief as Casey handed him the letter. “Thank you.”
Casey listened quietly as Avis explained about Lark as quickly as he could. Summing up the situation wasn’t the easiest thing he had ever done, but it helped. It helped to talk about it, with someone.
“Would you like some help… getting up?” Would he? Yes. Considering getting up on his own wasn’t looking like it was going to work. Casey wasn’t finished though. “Or… if you want any help regarding this letter and such, it would… serve me a great honor to assist you.”
Avis starred at the eighth year stunned. Had he just offered to help find Lark? It wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate the offer, it just had never occurred to him that anyone would help. And now that he was closer to finding Lark then he had ever been, now that he knew so very recently she had definitely been alive, he was certainly not turning down help. “Yes, thank you. To both,” he added so as not to confuse. “In all this time this is the first time I have ever had any idea if she was even alive.”
He looked down at the paper in his hand, unfolded it, smoothed it carefully and reread it. Could Lark have been more cryptic. Well, he supposed that she could after all she could have put in more words to be cryptic with. As it was all he had to go on was the double letters “FF”. He looked over at the younger student. “I’m afraid this isn’t much to go by though. All it says is that it’s to me, from Lark who needs help and something about ‘ff’. Any ideas?”
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