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Barnaby Pye
Let's see what your worst nightmare can do for you.
Thu Jan 28, 2016 09:41
2a01:e35:398b:e9d0:5df8:a8b:8093:5ff4

Barnaby had arrived to the second challenge in his most comfortable clothes. Which, for him, meant that he had forgone his crisp dress-shirts for a more casual cotton button-up and a pair of khaki pants and a sweater that he didn’t particularly like. It didn’t matter that challenge two was supposed to be something which would exhaust physical activity, Barnaby didn’t own a single pair of training pants or a comfortable shirt with which he would be able to really exert himself physically and he neither had the desire nor the relationship to ask his roommates to borrow some clothes. Besides, even leaving his sleeves rolled up and his pants slightly less than pressed was too casual from him and he didn’t really envision ever needing to have different clothes. If he were ever in a situation in which he would need to run, then he’d be wearing his usual clothes, and it only seemed logical that he learn how to run in those and his black dress shoes versus track pants and trainers.

He took the smile Gia gave him when she joined the group as a win and returned it with one of his own, tight sarcastic grins which always made Tarquin laugh. Speaking of which, the break had gone relatively smoothly. The two had only seen each other for a couple of days as Tarquin’s father had decided that Tarquin was needed to attend various functions with him while Barnaby’s father remained more secretive than ever. He had been called into a meeting twice with his father. The first, upon his return, was the usual welcome back appointment that Barnaby had gotten used to over and one that he had seen Alfie participate in a multitude of times over the years. He was asked about his grades, his classmates, then Father had moved on to subtle politic questions which Tarquin and he had been trying to piece together over the years, before finally (finally) casually asking after Alfie’s well-being. And then he was dismissed. Yes, the first meeting had been nothing out of the ordinary.

Yet, the night before New Year’s Eve, Barnaby had been asked back into Father’s office. He had sat there, twiddling his thumbs (grateful no one had been there to watch because Pyes did not twiddle their thumbs) for forty-five minutes, something so unlike Father because normally the elder Pye was always on time. When he’d entered the office, something in the air had felt amiss, it was enough to make his bones hurt and cry for tea (though not just any tea) but he had waited patiently for Father to lead with what he wanted to say. This time, as all times, Father had taken his time to begin. Usually, however, after his slow, deliberate start, he commenced the meetings with a quick, businessman-like manner. Yet, when Barnaby looked closer this time around, he saw the grey hairs that hadn’t been there before, he saw the light bags, the yellowing eyes, the pallid skin and wondered if Father was not alright? He hadn’t had much time for wondering, though, because soon enough Father got to his point (as he always did) and Barnaby had been dismissed with a new set of instructions for the rest of that semester.

Most curious of all, however, had been his inability to tell Tarquin what had happened. Tarquin had known, he’d asked Barnaby very plainly, and when Barnaby hadn’t been able to answer him, Tarquin had gotten frustrated and broke his favourite quill. He had looked quite ashamed after that and asked to borrow one of Barnaby’s before attempting to vanish away the bits of quill and making a fresh pot of tea because they were out. That had been the last time he’d seen Tarquin over the holiday and while it had been most stress free (lounging around, marking up pages in various books they had stolen from their father’s libraries always put a smile on Barnaby’s face), there had been something oddly final about the situation and Barnaby had felt uneasy as though this might be the last time they could do something like this.

He had returned to Sonora, more guarded than before—he was not to show any weakness, his father had instructed him, and he had kept an eye on the Dempsey boy as per request, but other than that he had kept to himself. Taking his meals alone though more often than not he was unable to eat much more than bread and butter or even plain bread, though he did fill his aching stomach with pots of tea late in the night. His fourteenth birthday was fast approaching, in several weeks he would be three years away from legality. The thought was sobering. His childhood had passed by quickly and he was entering that age in which Alfie had fully broken away from the family and become completely reckless and loose with everything, secrets, witches, Quidditch, his entire life, basically. Barnaby didn’t want that for himself and, luckily, had spent most of his own life safeguarding against the hormones that had caused his older brother to act so irrationally.

And then Gia Donovan had opened her mouth and suddenly, without prompting from Tarquin, Barnaby began to question something Father had told him not to do for the first time in his life.

Weakness, or Gia, weakness or Gia. This was the debate that Barnaby was currently trying to settle in his head. He knew that to say he didn’t care for flying either would be to admit a weakness—a weakness he didn’t have, albeit, so that could still work in his favour. His brain churned quickly with all the possible responses he had in this situation. And then, in the most curious of moves that had never happened once before in his life, his mouth opened before he had finished his thinking process. “I’m not the best flyer either,” he heard himself saying. The lie came from his mouth so easily—at least he hadn’t lost his ability to lie smoothly, he thought as he recalled the afternoons he had been forced to spend on a broom because Father thought all young wizards ought to know how to fly properly. Besides, family disappointment that he was, Alfie had been rather handy on a broomstick and Barnaby just hadn’t been able to let his imperfect older brother best him in a test of physical endurance. “Though like Gia I can be flexible so I don’t mind being partnered with her.”

  • Looking for Guidance (Team Five)Gia Donovan, Tue Jan 26 20:20
    Gia trailed behind her brother as they walked through the halls towards the Entrance where they were expected to meet. Gia was not happy with her brother. He kept abandoning her. First, during... more
    • Let's see what your worst nightmare can do for you. — Barnaby Pye, Thu Jan 28 09:41
      • How about go away?Ji-Eun Park, Tue Feb 9 02:18
        Her team was doing well. Really well. In fact, they were in first place whilst Jamie languished mid-table. She had seen him pouting the day the rankings had gone up and, whilst he would have taken... more
        • OOC - editJi-Eun, Wed Feb 10 04:16
          I failed to notice that Gia had already posted later in the challenge with Barnaby, so let's say that Jess is working with Scarlett on the final leg. If I have time, I will edit some IC reasoning... more
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