Private Tales Head in the Clouds
- Thread starter Dorian
- Start date
A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer
"I see."
His brow raised out of curiosity, but it painfully reminded him of the shiner over his right eye.
"Don't mind me, I really wasn't comfy in the first place," he dismissively waved his hand and shifted himself about a foot away from the patch, "Anyway, the Proctors let you grow shit?"
His brow raised out of curiosity, but it painfully reminded him of the shiner over his right eye.
"Don't mind me, I really wasn't comfy in the first place," he dismissively waved his hand and shifted himself about a foot away from the patch, "Anyway, the Proctors let you grow shit?"
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"I am surprised, some mushrooms can be terribly comfortable." Chasmine's smile persisted and her gaze flickered briefly to the bruise set at the arch of his brow. "That-" she began, but Dorian's question interrupted.
"Not at all. The Proctors have forbidden me from my hobby, this is why I hide them around the academy grounds and in the forest," she leaned closer and lowered her voice, "I call it Guerilla Gardening. That looks very painful."
"Not at all. The Proctors have forbidden me from my hobby, this is why I hide them around the academy grounds and in the forest," she leaned closer and lowered her voice, "I call it Guerilla Gardening. That looks very painful."
It certainly wasn't a terrible idea. Dorian couldn't name a single Proctor that regularly scoured the grounds for apprentice-owned gardens.
"Nothing a trip to the infirmary won't fix," with a grimace, Dorian leaned away just as much as she leaned in and suddenly pointed to her woven basket, "Another hobby of yours?"
"Nothing a trip to the infirmary won't fix," with a grimace, Dorian leaned away just as much as she leaned in and suddenly pointed to her woven basket, "Another hobby of yours?"
"Oh, no. This belongs to Belinda," the girl straightened herself with a bright expression, swaying the basket gently side-to-side, "one of the ladies who works in the Academy kitchens. She leant it to me for my foraging, would you like to help?"
Just as he decided to refuse the offer, he caught a tiny sparkle in her gaze and pursed his lips.
"How about I just watch, instead?" Dorian stood up, brushed a few blades of grass off his jacket, and threw it on. He quietly did as described as she knelt down next to the mushrooms.
"How about I just watch, instead?" Dorian stood up, brushed a few blades of grass off his jacket, and threw it on. He quietly did as described as she knelt down next to the mushrooms.
A demure, pleasant nod and smile responded to his suggestion as she moved forward and kneeled down near where he had been laying. A delicate, pale hand reached forward from a sleeve of black and gestured palm-down over the squashed mushrooms. There was a faint green glow, effervescent as it lingered between her hand and the plants, that seemed to enliven them to perk and grow. They responded to her like a wilted flower reblooming after a fresh drink of water.
"Having company is nice," Chas remarked as she watched the mushrooms with the wonder of a mother watching her children grow, "no one else is very interested in gardening."
When the process seemed over and the bed of fungi were quite healthy again, she carefully began to pick out the larger of the bunches, leaving the smaller ones to continue growing.
"Having company is nice," Chas remarked as she watched the mushrooms with the wonder of a mother watching her children grow, "no one else is very interested in gardening."
When the process seemed over and the bed of fungi were quite healthy again, she carefully began to pick out the larger of the bunches, leaving the smaller ones to continue growing.
"My grandmother is a horticulturist that specializes in medicinal plants and herbs," Chas continued her gathering, carefully selecting and picking mushrooms by the bunches, "I spent my days with her when I was younger. Now she teaches me how to make tinctures and remedies and the best way to grow the plants needed."
"What do you do in your free periods now?"
"What do you do in your free periods now?"
"Oh, so you knew your family," or some of it, anyway. Good for her. Really!
Dorian absently stared past Chasmine at the mushrooms.
"Nothing much," he said with a shrug, "what everyone else does. Spar. Train my magic. Nap under trees. I guess not a lot of people do much napping around here, though."
He sighed paced around the girl. He leaned against the tree towering above the cluster of mushrooms and got comfortable there.
"But some nights, when the sky is clear, and the moons are extra bright, I'll sneak out to the cove. There's a spot there, on the other side to the Academy, where the cliff hangs over the sea. I'll climb up to the top, where there's a clearing, and just sit there a while."
A few moments passed, and then Dorian felt his cheeks warm. Before he knew it, he'd talked a lot more to Chasmine than he'd have liked.
Dorian absently stared past Chasmine at the mushrooms.
"Nothing much," he said with a shrug, "what everyone else does. Spar. Train my magic. Nap under trees. I guess not a lot of people do much napping around here, though."
He sighed paced around the girl. He leaned against the tree towering above the cluster of mushrooms and got comfortable there.
"But some nights, when the sky is clear, and the moons are extra bright, I'll sneak out to the cove. There's a spot there, on the other side to the Academy, where the cliff hangs over the sea. I'll climb up to the top, where there's a clearing, and just sit there a while."
A few moments passed, and then Dorian felt his cheeks warm. Before he knew it, he'd talked a lot more to Chasmine than he'd have liked.
"That sounds very nice," Chasmine agreed with a gentle smile and pushed herself back to a stand, leaving the smaller mushrooms to grow, "I've never been to Suicide Cliff, but I've spoken to a few ghosts who have."
A twinge of sadness crossed through her smile at that. She didn't speak further on it, allowing Dorian to draw his own conclusion on ghosts that had been to such a place.
"I have to check on my other garden patches, would you like to join me?"
A twinge of sadness crossed through her smile at that. She didn't speak further on it, allowing Dorian to draw his own conclusion on ghosts that had been to such a place.
"I have to check on my other garden patches, would you like to join me?"
"This way."
Chasmine moved lightly and without hurry about the academy grounds, stopping at places most random and out of the way, hidden from the usual passerby in plain sight. The sort of means that kept fae hidden - if you didn't know what to look for you'd never see it. More mushrooms of other variety could be found in small corners while herbs grew in thickets and patches of weeds where they'd never gather interest or attention.
Next her meandering took her down the path that lead to the forest and it was at the gate that she paused to look back at Dorian curiously. He'd been rather reticent thus far, which was fine by her. Chas was used to being alone, so the silence didn't bother her.
"Do you like owls?"
Chasmine moved lightly and without hurry about the academy grounds, stopping at places most random and out of the way, hidden from the usual passerby in plain sight. The sort of means that kept fae hidden - if you didn't know what to look for you'd never see it. More mushrooms of other variety could be found in small corners while herbs grew in thickets and patches of weeds where they'd never gather interest or attention.
Next her meandering took her down the path that lead to the forest and it was at the gate that she paused to look back at Dorian curiously. He'd been rather reticent thus far, which was fine by her. Chas was used to being alone, so the silence didn't bother her.
"Do you like owls?"
Out of everyone on the Academy's grounds, Dorian put the most effort towards appearing disinterested in what he did. So as they walked around, his hands were cooly tucked into his pockets, and he would look to the side sometimes. But when Chasmine would tend to her gardens, Dorian was close behind her, leaning to look over her shoulder to watch how she carefully handled the fungi and herbs.
He would blink once at the question posed to him before the gate.
"I do, actually."
Dorian's eyes sparked with excitement, and he whispered, "Do you keep an owl?"
He would blink once at the question posed to him before the gate.
"I do, actually."
Dorian's eyes sparked with excitement, and he whispered, "Do you keep an owl?"
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That spark was not missed by the pale gaze of the girl. A bud of warmth at an apparent shared interest showed in the small smile she offered in return, though it quickly filtered into a pinched brow and slight turn of her expression, "What a strange question..."
Did she keep an owl? Huh!
Anyone who knew owls knew that only the moons kept owls.
But the same smile persisted, "Follow me."
Stowing her basket out of sight around the gate wall, Chasmine lead him into the forest and along the beaten path. After the second bend, however, she veered off-path and into the thicker, wilder underbrush. Branches and vines and brambles snagged and clung at her clothes, and what appeared to be a deer path seemed to melt into the overgrown thicket.
"You can take my hand, if you like," she offered during a pause, but Dorian declined and she pressed on along a route that she seemed quite familiar with even if there did not appear to be any easy route to take. After a good deal of effort, Chas peeled herself out of the encompassing forest of sticker bushes and untamed growth into a old clearing around a decrepit stone watchtower.
Cheeks pink from the effort with the flash of red from several cuts and scrapes on their way in, Chasmine turned her round eyes widely up at the tower for a moment to catch her breath. Then, without any ado, she was on her way again to the tower itself, climbing over a crumbling stone wall that surrounded the base to drop down into the walkway between.
Did she keep an owl? Huh!
Anyone who knew owls knew that only the moons kept owls.
But the same smile persisted, "Follow me."
Stowing her basket out of sight around the gate wall, Chasmine lead him into the forest and along the beaten path. After the second bend, however, she veered off-path and into the thicker, wilder underbrush. Branches and vines and brambles snagged and clung at her clothes, and what appeared to be a deer path seemed to melt into the overgrown thicket.
"You can take my hand, if you like," she offered during a pause, but Dorian declined and she pressed on along a route that she seemed quite familiar with even if there did not appear to be any easy route to take. After a good deal of effort, Chas peeled herself out of the encompassing forest of sticker bushes and untamed growth into a old clearing around a decrepit stone watchtower.
Cheeks pink from the effort with the flash of red from several cuts and scrapes on their way in, Chasmine turned her round eyes widely up at the tower for a moment to catch her breath. Then, without any ado, she was on her way again to the tower itself, climbing over a crumbling stone wall that surrounded the base to drop down into the walkway between.
Seems the time for gardening was over, Dorian thought to himself as Chasmine hid the basket.
Though she didn't seem to care, Dorian was very much over the persistent tugging from the thorny underbrush and wild branches. He emerged into the clearing as she'd climbed over the wall, a bit less scratched up as he'd taken care while trudging through the thicket, but was quick to catch up.
"What is this place?" He asked, picking seeds and thorns from his jacket and flicking them away.
Though she didn't seem to care, Dorian was very much over the persistent tugging from the thorny underbrush and wild branches. He emerged into the clearing as she'd climbed over the wall, a bit less scratched up as he'd taken care while trudging through the thicket, but was quick to catch up.
"What is this place?" He asked, picking seeds and thorns from his jacket and flicking them away.
"I'm not sure," Chas said as she lead the way around the base of the tower and to the entrance, "I found it a few years ago during that forest drill we ran in the middle of that hurricane."
Forest drills were a thing of the past now. At least, what they used to be was. No longer could the Proctors leave the students out in the middle of the night in a bid to survive, hide, or kill. Survival of the fittest and the most lethal - no one was ever sure how Chasmine continued to come back from them. Apparently she'd found a safehouse of sorts in the tower.
The stairs were still mostly intact, and up up up she went.
Forest drills were a thing of the past now. At least, what they used to be was. No longer could the Proctors leave the students out in the middle of the night in a bid to survive, hide, or kill. Survival of the fittest and the most lethal - no one was ever sure how Chasmine continued to come back from them. Apparently she'd found a safehouse of sorts in the tower.
The stairs were still mostly intact, and up up up she went.
"Ah," Dorian quietly exclaimed behind her, "Yeah, I remember. I'd taken shelter in a hollowed-out tree."
He'd also been sick for a while after that. And how terrible it'd been, going to lessons and training while ill.
"You've been coming back ever since?" he asked her, every other step he took causing the stairs to groan and creak under his weight. A locked door awaited them at the top of the staircase.
He'd also been sick for a while after that. And how terrible it'd been, going to lessons and training while ill.
"You've been coming back ever since?" he asked her, every other step he took causing the stairs to groan and creak under his weight. A locked door awaited them at the top of the staircase.
"Not too often," she admitted, "the owls like their privacy."
The locked door did not seem to give her any pause as she phased and stepped right through it. Moments later the lock clicked and door swung inwards and open, "That's why I leave the door locked."
Chas, now completely healed of her prior scrapes and cuts, stepped back to let him in. The room was empty save for a few old crates, a table, chair, and the leavings of a family of owls. Above their heads in the rafters, the rustling of feathers echoed down.
Hooo.
Two adult owls and - she pointed up into the corner where three small heads poked out, beady eyes blinking down at them - three baby owls.
The locked door did not seem to give her any pause as she phased and stepped right through it. Moments later the lock clicked and door swung inwards and open, "That's why I leave the door locked."
Chas, now completely healed of her prior scrapes and cuts, stepped back to let him in. The room was empty save for a few old crates, a table, chair, and the leavings of a family of owls. Above their heads in the rafters, the rustling of feathers echoed down.
Hooo.
Two adult owls and - she pointed up into the corner where three small heads poked out, beady eyes blinking down at them - three baby owls.
Dorian swallowed hard. She'd stepped through him like that just once before, and seeing her do it again reminded him of that awful chill.
He carefully stepped into the room after her, lips pressing together and eyes glittering up at the tiny faces looking down at them. He'd forgotten all about any unpleasant thoughts and finally broke a smile.
"Little baby owls," he excitedly whispered.
He carefully stepped into the room after her, lips pressing together and eyes glittering up at the tiny faces looking down at them. He'd forgotten all about any unpleasant thoughts and finally broke a smile.
"Little baby owls," he excitedly whispered.
Many weeks later...
"Hello Dorian Reeve."
Chasmine's wispy, airy voice greeted the boy in the dark corridor between academy buildings shortly after the clock tower struck midnight. When he turned to look at who had spoken to him, he would not find a girl of the flesh - but the spectral form of Chasmine shimmering in a faint pearlescent color.
Ghost Chas smiled at the boy with a curious look about her, "You can't sleep either?"
"Hello Dorian Reeve."
Chasmine's wispy, airy voice greeted the boy in the dark corridor between academy buildings shortly after the clock tower struck midnight. When he turned to look at who had spoken to him, he would not find a girl of the flesh - but the spectral form of Chasmine shimmering in a faint pearlescent color.
Ghost Chas smiled at the boy with a curious look about her, "You can't sleep either?"