Yelena York II
Wait, I'm not ready!
Tue Jun 11, 2013 05:18
24.215.157.233

Still shaking off the effects of the weather potion she’d messed up during their first period class, Lena lagged behind the other beginner students on their way from Cultural Studies to Defense Against the Dark Arts, gathering her hair in her hands and gripping tightly, twisting out the ocean salt water that weighed heavily on her head. The clap of thunder that used to haunt her every step had thankfully faded away, but every so often she had to lean on the wall and slip off her mary jane flats, her toes freezing from the unusual volume of snow piling up within her shoes. The effects of the potion seemed to have a gradual expiration time, so she decided to wait it out instead of bothering a professor or upperclassman to help her.

“Bom dia, professor.” She greeted her head of house with a distracted smile, fingers lost in her hair, finally drawing out a strand of seaweed tightly bound to the dark curls. She held it between her forefinger and thumb, arm stretched out as far away from her body as it could go, tingles of revulsion spread across the surface of her caramel colored skin. She hated seaweed; how it looked, how it felt, how it tasted in her mouth, tricked by her brothers that it was a special type of salad that would help her breathe underwater.

“Espero nunca mais ver vocę novamente.” Lena wrinkled her nose, dropping the seaweed into the nearest trash basket. “Good riddance.” Her hair felt a lot lighter, and she hoped the unexpected visitor signalled the enchantment’s finale. With the curls wet, they emerged with a little more wild ferocity around her face, tickling her ears and the slope of her neck, tumbling over her shoulders, darker in coloring, dripping slow drops on the silver school robes spilling down her form. There wasn’t much heat in the classroom, save for the four torches scattered on the stone wall. Starting to shiver, Lena found a seat directly beneath one of them, sighing as she settled down and let the flood of heat fill her up. She imagined the torch tipping over, delicious flame greeting the tip of her head, massaging her scalp and winding through her curls.

While they waited for class to officially start, Lena took out her parchment paper, ink bottle and pink feathered quill. Over the summer, an elderly aunt had voiced concern over Lena’s almost athletic build, pulling her aside to poke at Lena’s stomach (Don’t they feed you at that school?), squeeze her arm (What the hell is this? Muscle? By Merlin!), and repeatedly grip her hips (You can’t expect to bear children with these sad girls.) before calming down after Lena told her that she wasn’t sneaking around playing Quidditch or any other sport, she was just made that way. Still, in an effort to ensure she appeared her most feminine, Aunt Blume had been sending her various small trinkets that were supposed to subtly alter her body or spirit or whatever. The quill released a light, strawberry perfume scent whenever she wrote.

Just as Professor Miles was about to start the class, something shot through the corner of her vision, succeeded by a mild bang as Kašpar Szyszko slid into his seat just as the classroom door shut close. Lena hid her smile behind the lift in her arm, pulling up her hair into a loose bun, more than a few sea-soaked curls dancing out of reach, teasing the back of her neck, framing her face, giving her full attention to Miles once the task was done.

Expelliarmus, She dipped her quill in ink and started scratching out a few notes, inhaling the mild strawberry smell. the disarming spell. Current Expectation: make wand spin out of opponent’s hand. High Expectation: to disarm and knock opponent down. Ex - pell - ee - are - mus. Wand Motion: Circle and Jab. She quickly added the date to the top of the page, before setting her quill down and looking around for a partner. Her dark eyes fell on Kašpar again, a smile quirking her lips. He always seemed a bit unfocused to her, a distinct lack of discipline in his character that made her worry if they would actually get much work done if they were paired together. But he’s fun.

Lena slid out of her seat, took a few cautious steps forward, before beaming at the lack of snow haunting her shoes. “Kašpar,” She approached him from behind, reaching out to tap his shoulder but he turned around quickly and greeted her enthusiastically, asking her to partner up before she was even certain his eyes had registered who she was. “Vould I ever.” She teased him, white teeth flashed in a grin. “Do you want to go first, or shall I? Or, should we try and disarm each other at the same time?”

  • Time for an adventure!Kašpar Szyszko (Aquila), Mon Jun 10 23:27
    The Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom was rather more Dark Arts-ish instead of Defense-y. That was completely fine with Kašpar, because it made the room much more interesting! Most of the... more
    • Wait, I'm not ready! — Yelena York II, Tue Jun 11 05:18
      • Ready or not, here we go!Kašpar, Tue Jun 11 18:51
        He blinked, and the neutral profile of his dragon hunting partner classwork partner morphed into someone much more recognizable, dark curls overwhelming the protective helmet, brown eyes widening in... more
        • Okay, this is pretty exciting.Lena, Wed Jun 12 13:46
          Out from beneath the torch, the cool shivers provoked by the latent potion effects and the stone borders resumed their travels across the surface of her skin. There were still shallow pools of water... more
          • Of course it is. I'm here.Kašpar, Thu Jun 13 17:21
            He frowned in concentration, wide hazel eyes intent on Yelena’s face as she said the spell for him. “Eks-PELL-ee-armoss,” he recited after her, paying diligent attention to the first syllables, his... more
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