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Date: January 16th, 2013
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Read Today's Daily Prophet: Knights of Walpurgis attack Hogwarts; Belleford steps down as Hogwarts closes until further notice
Welcome to Hogwarts Interactive Role Play, one of the net's best in Harry Potter and Hogwarts role plays. We hope you enjoy your visit.

Here at Hogwarts our students are currently in their Seventh Year. Last year, the war against the Knights crescendoed into a direct attack against the school. Disappearances are still reported (or not) daily, and the Dark Lord and his Knights of Walpurgis have succeeded in spreading their message of "do as thou will" far and wide across the globe. Magical Law Enforcement, which is now the only authority in the wizarding world under Martial Law, has responded by tightening security, controlling the media, and strictly enforcing curfews and other laws. Their control is damaging to the people's freedom, and their hierarchy is a suspicious lot. It is clear that some members of the MLE like their new found power a bit too much, others see it necessary, but all are in serious danger of being consumed by it. But with the picture of just what Azariah Amaranth is after becoming ever clearer, and a third player in the form of a group called SAVIOR entering the scene, what will the MLE do next to ensure that they've got the situation under control?

The Elementium, the Higher Plane that had once been hidden just beyond the veil in the Department of Mysteries, and the Deathly Hallows. The pieces of the puzzle have been identified, but what picture do they make?

Today is Day 1 of Year Seven. Students have had time to recover from the Knight's attack, and are beginning to reluctantly return to the walls of Hogwarts. The safety of the school has been diminished, bringing up the question everyone must ask. Are you safe anywhere these days? It's up to each individual to decide their fate, where will you decide to go?

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White Blank Page; Year 6, Day 6 - Breakfast
Topic Started: Nov 2 2011, 02:15:27 PM (922 Views)
Tinsley Carmicheal
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It's cute that everyone thinks they can be a queen, but remember who came FIRST.

Hair neatly braided in a long wave down her back, a bow sat atop Tinsley Carmicheal's delicate frame, a ribbon atop a Christmas gift. A window was open just beside Tinsley, the light from mundane gray clouds illuminating her skin as she watched rainy breezes sweep across the grounds. Silence. All she needed was silence, a moment to pause and listen.

The air smelled like promise, heavy with spring and flowers. Something about this weather made Tinsley feel hopeful, and there was a fiery spark dancing in her eyes as she watched owls fly above the trees. This was so easy, wasn't it? Suddenly, it seemed like Tinsley had life figured out. Except she didn't. And that was okay, too.

The Queen smiled softly, turning away from the window as a rainy cloud passed by. A sudden curtain of rain fell, bombarding the silence with crashes of water against the grass and sides of the castle. From the window, Tinsley could feel the rainy breeze kiss her cheeks. She stood up to close it manually, and it fell with a resounding crash.

The sounds of promising younger students could be heard down the hall, interrupted by the crash as they passed Tinsley's hiding spot in their tiny robes.

Adjusting her bow, Tinsley couldn't help but reflect. It's been so long since I was that little Queen running around the castle. And my bow was always a crown. Funny how time passes, right? How the faces of everyone around you seem to change and blur together, but there's always those few faces you remember. Tinsley fondly thought of Hellius, that pretentious prick, and Addie, that dumb little blonde-haired angel, and Emma Gray, and Kayden Slayer, and...

Ian...
I'm the BO$$.
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Ian de Pointe du Lac
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Seventh Year

Ian awoke that morning with an uneasy sense of purpose. Something was going to happen today. But he knew that. He knew it was coming. He'd known since his third year, and he'd known since February that his destiny was to come barreling down upon him much sooner than expected.

All that was left was to see how it would play out. Funny how knowing one's destiny does not make one any less uncertain about the future.

The air in the dungeons was damper than usual. Moisture had been sinking from the earth into the castle basements, Ian could tell. Strangely, the air did not feel discomforting, just...heavy.

Ian needed to get above ground as soon as possible.

As always, Ian was sure to keep an eye out for Tinsley as he made his way through the Slytherin common room to the porthole, and as he walked through the halls and up the stairs. His gaze was more urgent than usual, however.

She was not in the halls. Perhaps she was at breakfast, but Ian knew where he might find her if that was not the case.

Without hesitation, he opened the door the usually empty classroom and found Tinsley at the window which had served as their secret hideaway since before they were a couple.

Ian still remembered the time Kayden and Tinsley had been comparing scars in this very room. Ian had commented about getting a scar and becoming interesting and desirable to women. Oddly enough, both those things happened about the same time, and now they were in that same room again. Scarred.

But the air in the room was lighter than in the dungeon, and the burden of the pregnant atmosphere seemed less. Maybe it was the open window, the breeze which caused Tinsley Carmichael's brunette tresses to flutter and float about in the wind.

Behind Ian, some children passed the open door. They did not seem to notice the pair as Ian stared into her eyes. His heart filled with warmth, his body with a different, welcome kind of anticipation.

He turned around to stare out the door at the first years as they thundered through the halls without a care, probably eager to greet a world that excitingly full of some vaguely worded promise.

"Funny," he said, "It feels like so long ago."
Edited by Ian de Pointe du Lac, Nov 2 2011, 03:38:13 PM.
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Thanks Beth!

I heard the sound of a thunder, it roared out a warnin'
I heard the roar of a wave that could drown the whole world
I heard one hundred drummers whose hands were a-blazin'
I heard ten thousand whisperin' and nobody listenin'
I heard one person starve, I heard many people laughin'
Heard the song of a poet who died in the gutter
Heard the sound of a clown who cried in the alley
And it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard
And it's a hard rain's a-gonna fall.
--Bob Dylan
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Tinsley Carmicheal
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It's cute that everyone thinks they can be a queen, but remember who came FIRST.

It was the calm before a storm, a calm unlike Tinsley had ever known. Her heart felt heavy, lost in quicksand, sinking further down into her stomach where it tossed and turned, but still calm seemed to hang in the air. So much time had passed since Tinsley remembered first hearing Ian de Pointe du Lac's squeaky little boy voice. Vividly, Tinsley remembered all the times her own chipmunk squeak chastised him, mocked him, and maybe even graced him with a compliment once or twice.

And now, the same voice met Tinsley's ears. Before she knew it, Tinsley's legs were crossing the room, bridging the distance between Ian and herself. Steps away from him, Tinsley paused, her wide eyes swimming with questions as she waited for something to happen. Anything. Maybe they could just run away. Wouldn't that solve everything? It'd be a lot easier than thinking about all the time that had passed, all the time that continued to pass...

"And at the same time, it doesn't," she whispered. "Do you remember when I was attacked, and Bannishtar saved my life?" Tinsley's voice was just a soft whisper, heavy with something that sounded a lot like regret. Unusual. "And that one time, with the hippogriff's... please tell me you remember that. And..."

"Everything's different. I don't know what I'm more afraid of. Finally becoming an adult, or realizing that I've been an adult all along." Subconsciously, her hands met her stomach where a long, thin scar still lay beneath Tinsley's impeccable wardrobe: the one obvious flaw the Queen knew she had. "I don't know where the time went, but I feel like if I realize just how quickly everything went by and just how little time we have left to just be kids I'll lose this moment. Right here, right now."

Tinsley reached out, wrapped her arms around Ian, and squeezed.

"Seriously tell me you remember that time with the hippogriff's."
I'm the BO$$.
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Ian de Pointe du Lac
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Seventh Year

Ian felt the weight of Tinsley's head on his chest, touching where the long, jagged, spider-web scar began on his neck and extended across his chest in all directions. He put his arm around the small of her back. Small, barely visible strands of brown hair which had escaped her otherwise neat braid tickled his skin as they floated in the wind. He drank her scent with his nostrils.

He reached back and closed the goddam door.

It's a wonder how a person could hold all these different kinds of anticipation and not explode.

"I remember that. I went after your attacker, though,"
Ian said. He knew that if that had happened now, he'd have let the attacker get away and would have helped her instead.

Honestly, though, he wasn't quite sure what she meant about the hippogryffs.

With wry smile, Ian took her chin up lightly with the index and middle fingers and thumb of his left hand.

He kissed her.

The energy in the room, and that foreboding sense, seemed to swell with that kiss.

"You'll have to refresh my memory about that other one, though." he said.
Edited by Ian de Pointe du Lac, Nov 21 2011, 08:41:46 PM.
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Thanks Beth!

I heard the sound of a thunder, it roared out a warnin'
I heard the roar of a wave that could drown the whole world
I heard one hundred drummers whose hands were a-blazin'
I heard ten thousand whisperin' and nobody listenin'
I heard one person starve, I heard many people laughin'
Heard the song of a poet who died in the gutter
Heard the sound of a clown who cried in the alley
And it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard
And it's a hard rain's a-gonna fall.
--Bob Dylan
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Tinsley Carmicheal
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It's cute that everyone thinks they can be a queen, but remember who came FIRST.

Tinsley kissed Ian back with such enthusiasm that she even surprised herself before she pulled away, the remnants of a blush staining her cheeks. She smiled meekly, looking away, though she never once let go of her tight hold on Ian. She rested her cheek against his chest and listened to his heart beat for a moment before replying.

"I remember you had just chopped your hair off," remembered Tinsley. "Emma was me for Halloween and you stood up for me. And all the while, I remember being nasty and mean because I thought it was cute. Because I'm Tinsley, and being nasty is what I do best." Tinsley sighed. "But the entire time I just kept wondering what would happen if I actually just told you how I felt. That I didn't just like your hair cut, I loved it, and even then all I ever wanted to do was see how this felt. I think I was scared." Tinsley hugged him tighter for a moment.

"There's so much we could think back on and remember," sighed Tinsley. "I just don't know." Finally releasing him, Tinsley stepped away slightly and looked at Ian, her arms limp at her sides, frowning.

"How did you know you would find me here?"
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Ian de Pointe du Lac
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Seventh Year

"Oh, right," said Ian with Tinsley's head on his chest, "I was such a little shit, then, so don't worry about it. I distinctly remember calling you a bimbo with your blonde hair, though. We guys can be such pricks when we like a girl, you know. Also, I fell in love with you when you had brown hair, so..."

It was dangerous territory to state that there is a particular feature you'd rather not want changed about a person.

Ian smiled. There were many times when Ian felt he had nothing to say. He understood, though.

"I was scared, too," said Ian. Suddenly, his eyes widened and he said "Oh, God. I just realized: If it weren't for Alphonse, we'd never have been together. I'd have never toughened up."

Ian crossed over to the abandoned teacher's desk, which was near the open window. With a wave of his wand, he vanished the thick skin of dust which covered the desk before sitting down on it.

"I don't know," said Ian, in his odd, English-influenced French accent, so that everything was well pronounced and there was only a slight nasal sound to his vowels and his his n sounds were at least barely audible. The closest he got to the dialectic "dunno" sounded more like "I donno."

"I guess," said Ian, "Well, we've been running in here to avoid being seen for years now, haven't we? Even before you and I were together."

Ian shifted uncomfortably on the desk. So many memories flooded his mind, then. That heavy feeling returned. He turned his head to look out the window, contemplating silently.
Edited by Ian de Pointe du Lac, Nov 2 2011, 05:39:15 PM.
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Thanks Beth!

I heard the sound of a thunder, it roared out a warnin'
I heard the roar of a wave that could drown the whole world
I heard one hundred drummers whose hands were a-blazin'
I heard ten thousand whisperin' and nobody listenin'
I heard one person starve, I heard many people laughin'
Heard the song of a poet who died in the gutter
Heard the sound of a clown who cried in the alley
And it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard
And it's a hard rain's a-gonna fall.
--Bob Dylan
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Tinsley Carmicheal
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It's cute that everyone thinks they can be a queen, but remember who came FIRST.

Tinsley remained silent, mind blank as she watched Ian. She felt nothing but appreciation for him. It was more than the simple fact that they had grown up each other, much more meaningful than having supported each other for years.. it was always more than that. Tinsley watched him quietly, all the while thinking that, despite anything that would ever happen between them, she was truly lucky to have someone that even understood a fragment of who Tinsley was.

Still quiet, Tinsley adjusted her bow again out of habit. Everything from her lace stockings to her Mary Jane's to the Slytherin patterned skirt that rested on her thighs was perfectly to Tinsley's standards. There was no rip in her stocking, no stain on her sweater, no stray eyelash on her porcelain cheeks. She was completely put together and had been since the moment she walked into Hogwarts as a spoiled eleven year old. But suddenly, to someone, Tinsley was a lot, lot more than that.

She was a skilled Divination student, a survivor, a girl who fought for her life, a Seer that had proved herself, a trustworthy, loyal friend, and, beneath sheets of ice, a girl with an honest heart. Somehow, Ian had seen that.

Almost lost in thought, something else pulled her from her feelings of appreciation sharply. "Alphonse," murmured Tinsley, smirking with her signature twisted smile. "I had almost forgotten he even existed. Almost."

Tinsley walked over to the desk, her typical Tinsley swagger obvious in the way she walked with her hips. "You look... uncomfortable." Folding her arms across her chest, Tinsley watched him, her hawk-like almond eyes burning into his. "I'm willing to bet you didn't come looking for me just for a hug, kiss, and a little reminiscing. Although I don't mind all three."
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Ian de Pointe du Lac
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Seventh Year

Ian didn't speak immediately. He allowed the moment to be, with Tinsley standing before him. He admired how done-up she was. It was rare that she wasn't, but Ian, with a thought that was equally innocent and implicit, wondered how she might look when done-down once in a while.

He allowed the thoughts to pass through his mind, as he allowed the energy and warmth generated by Tinsley's touch to pass throughout his body.

"I'd forgotten about him, too," said Ian, "for a little while. Whatever they were doing to him in Azkaban, it was making it hard for him to...talk to me. I couldn't sense him anymore. But lately...little flashes, glimpses of things pop up in my mind, or intrude upon my own thoughts and daydreams. Last night for instance: I was dreaming. I was...somewhere dark, somewhere cold. I could not see, and I felt...pain. I had just been dreaming that Professor Sneckenberg was back and that she'd found out that it was Bellatrix and myself who had destroyed her potions stores in third year. Then, suddenly, the whole room shifted. I was still looking at Sneckenberg, but she was chained up, bleeding from the face, and not moving. I don't think she was dead..."

Ian began to shiver, as if the heat were leaving his body. He grew paler, as if he were growing empty of life.

"I think I was in Azkaban. I don't remember much else, but I think, somehow, whatever they're doing to Alphonse, its not working as well anymore. Whether he's aware of it or not, the link is open, and I'd go so far as to guess that its not the only thing that's growing stronger now."
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Thanks Beth!

I heard the sound of a thunder, it roared out a warnin'
I heard the roar of a wave that could drown the whole world
I heard one hundred drummers whose hands were a-blazin'
I heard ten thousand whisperin' and nobody listenin'
I heard one person starve, I heard many people laughin'
Heard the song of a poet who died in the gutter
Heard the sound of a clown who cried in the alley
And it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard
And it's a hard rain's a-gonna fall.
--Bob Dylan
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Tinsley Carmicheal
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It's cute that everyone thinks they can be a queen, but remember who came FIRST.

"Well what are you trying to say?" An instant took for Tinsley's mood to shift dramatically, like someone had flipped an internal switch of hers. The mere mention of Alphonse made something in Tinsley stir. She wanted to rise up and spit in his face, laugh at the beautiful looks insanity had stolen from him and, probably most of all, Tinsley just wanted to blink and have it be that a soul like his had never existed. Imagine! Ian and Tinsley, and all of their friends, never plagued by any of this darkness. Except it wouldn't exactly be Hogwarts, would it?

"If you're trying to hint at him getting stronger..." Years ago, Tinsley's voice would have dripped with notes of hysteria until her screams were bouncing off the classroom walls. Her first instinct would've been to hide behind Ian or throw a tantrum until, like clockwork, she got her way. Now, no amount of pouting could save them and, like any true Slytherin, Tinsley's backbone hardened as she indignantly rose up, hands on her hips.

"Well then, we have to do something, don't we?" Tinsley's manic expression continued to drill into Ian's, eyes flashing with a dramatic sense of urgency. "Can't we..." Tinsley finally noticed that as she had spoken, Ian's face continued to grow pale, and he shivered as if a sudden, freezing draft had seized him. Expression suddenly melting to concern, Tinsley learned forward and held both of Ian's hands in hers, squeezing them.

"You don't even look well. You look like you're right there in that cell beside that sniveling bastard." Tinsley bit her bottom lip, thinking. "We can do something, can't we?"
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Ian de Pointe du Lac
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Seventh Year

"I don't know," said Ian, "I mean, we've never known, have we?"

Ian took back his hand and began pacing the room.

"All these things keep happening," said Ian, "Redcaps rampaging in our third year, Alphonse trying to get me to go with him in our fourth, Azariah attacking the Ministry, all that...bother that happened last year--it brought us together, but what else? What was the reason for it? It all means something, I know it. I just don't know how all of this fits together. Azariah, the Elementium, Aunt Julia, my seizures...none of this is coincidental, but we can't seem to put it together in a way that makes any sense."

Ian stopped. He put his arms around Tinsley and held her close.

"It's like we know we're careening down some dark tunnel towards some inevitable end," he said, "but we've no idea what that end is: We can't see the bottom, and we only know that we can't avoid it. Me, I've got this little light that flickers, and I can see a little further down the hole than most--no, its more like I just know how badly its going to hurt when we hit the bottom, but I can't tell you when we're going to hit it, or what happens next. I can only tell you that it has to happen. If Alphonse is planning something, I might get a glimpse. Maybe. But I'm just as lost as everyone else, except for the fact that I know this will end with one of us dead!"

He squeezed her tighter.

"And if I have to be honest," he said, "deep down, I don't know what to do. When I first started to feel his presence again, in my head, I felt almost relieved. Like I was seeing an old friend again. We never...talk through the link, not like we're talking. But ideas and feelings would pass between us. And only when Alphonse was after something, or when he was truly angry did my scar hurt. On a normal day like today, he's just there, and I'm glad for the company. I'm glad not to feel so alone in my own mind. I'm sorry if that doesn't make any sense."
Edited by Ian de Pointe du Lac, Nov 4 2011, 01:34:03 AM.
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Thanks Beth!

I heard the sound of a thunder, it roared out a warnin'
I heard the roar of a wave that could drown the whole world
I heard one hundred drummers whose hands were a-blazin'
I heard ten thousand whisperin' and nobody listenin'
I heard one person starve, I heard many people laughin'
Heard the song of a poet who died in the gutter
Heard the sound of a clown who cried in the alley
And it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard
And it's a hard rain's a-gonna fall.
--Bob Dylan
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Tinsley Carmicheal
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It's cute that everyone thinks they can be a queen, but remember who came FIRST.

Tinsley shoved Ian away. "Alone?"

The thought of any of this was too much to stand. Of course none of this was coincidence, but there was no way to think about the end with an overwhelming feeling of sadness. There had been so many years of their childhood lost to these terrible things that Tinsley hardly even remembered having a childhood or a brief moment of laughter that wasn't marked by sarcasm. Suddenly, the weight of every decision Tinsley had ever made was an elephant sitting on her chest: what if Ian was right? ... I'm just as lost as everyone else, except for the fact that I know this will end with one of us dead!

Shoving Ian away, Tinsley's cheeks flushed with anger. "Why can't I See this?" She turned to Ian, fists balled up against her skirt. Tinsley looked funny she was angry, though she was angry often, because she never did quite lose the quality of looking like a child when she pouted her bottom lip or turned an angry shade of red. The voice that slipped from her lips was a hiss, an angry snake's chastising. "I See all sorts of things, you know. They come to me in visions, in dreams. And Bannishtar for years has been telling me how much better I've been getting, but I haven't told you a damn thing about that because I was hoping that one day, I'd see a fairytale ending in my tea leaves and that all of this would be irrelevant!"

Beginning to pace, she continued, "Except every time I think about it and beg whatever Divination God exists to give me a sign, I feel nothing but this isolated feeling that..."

Tinsley turned to stare at Ian, moving closer as the color in her cheeks was replaced by a paleness, her angry pout fading away into nothing but a small frown. "Last time I checked, you weren't completely alone. You should want anyone but him for company. I'd spend a year with Tristan Nightshade than Al--him." Finally within reaching distance of Ian, she kept her hands to herself, balled up into a worried knot in front of her.

"You're going to get through this." Tinsley's demands never left room for argument. Just the tone of her voice rivaled that of an experienced professor. "If someone has to die, it's not going to be me. It's not going to be Emma, or Julian, or Dave. It's not going to be you." Tinsley finally reached out and put her hand on Ian's shoulder.

"I will rip that piece of shit to shreds before I let him take you, or anyone else from me."
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Ian de Pointe du Lac
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Seventh Year

Ian was silent for moment. His chest seem to fill with heat until he felt he might explode.

He took Tinsley lightly be the shoulders and held her close.

"Thank you," he whispered softly in her ear.

He felt there was no reason that he should explain why she couldn't See their future. Ian already knew it. He knew that a family member would kill him. The only question was what was he going to do in between then and now that would make it all worthwhile, if indeed his life and death were to mean something.

"I got called in by Kemp last night," he said, "I was one of the last to be called in. He asked me some questions. He's up to something. I bet this is how everyone's interview went. I don't know what he's looking for, but I get the feeling he found it. We may have more to worry about than Alphonse right now. I think Kemp is a more immediate concern. I think something's about to happen."
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Thanks Beth!

I heard the sound of a thunder, it roared out a warnin'
I heard the roar of a wave that could drown the whole world
I heard one hundred drummers whose hands were a-blazin'
I heard ten thousand whisperin' and nobody listenin'
I heard one person starve, I heard many people laughin'
Heard the song of a poet who died in the gutter
Heard the sound of a clown who cried in the alley
And it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard
And it's a hard rain's a-gonna fall.
--Bob Dylan
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Tinsley Carmicheal
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It's cute that everyone thinks they can be a queen, but remember who came FIRST.

Ever a closeted hopeless romantic, Tinsley couldn't help but drink Ian up. Every timed beat of his heart jumped through his bones and against her cheek as it rested their, in tune with her own. It took Tinsley a moment to calm down before listening carefully to Ian's words. Face twisted with thought, brow furrowed, Tinsley stepped away slightly just so that Ian could clearly see her face.

"So we have to do something, don't we?" Her voice held concern, wary that anything could be done. "I... I've been having that same feeling, you know. I keep seeing distorted fragments in dreams but no true vision has come to me and it's the worst feeling in the world. I can't put my finger on it, but... I don't know, Ian. Isn't there something that we can do?"

Tinsley smirked slightly. "We always seem to land ourselves in some kind of trouble. I would think that right now would be no different."
Edited by Tinsley Carmicheal, Nov 5 2011, 05:38:56 PM.
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Ian de Pointe du Lac
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Seventh Year

"I'm scared," said Ian. The words rushed out of him, having built pressure in his gut, and all breath seemed to leave him, yet he was still alive, and all energy seemed to purged from his muscles, yet he was still standing.

The room suddenly seemed unfamiliar and alien. Tinsley seemed to him, as he looked to her, to be the only thing left that was familiar, but, perhaps not safe.
Posted Image
Thanks Beth!

I heard the sound of a thunder, it roared out a warnin'
I heard the roar of a wave that could drown the whole world
I heard one hundred drummers whose hands were a-blazin'
I heard ten thousand whisperin' and nobody listenin'
I heard one person starve, I heard many people laughin'
Heard the song of a poet who died in the gutter
Heard the sound of a clown who cried in the alley
And it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard
And it's a hard rain's a-gonna fall.
--Bob Dylan
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Tinsley Carmicheal
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It's cute that everyone thinks they can be a queen, but remember who came FIRST.

Tinsley narrowed her eyes. "Scared?"

Lips pursed, Tinsley shoved Ian on the arm, eyes burning holes through his skull like lasers. "You, in case you've forgotten, are Ian de Pointe du Lac. You aren't scared. You're a Slytherin. Slytherin blood is pumping through your veins, and that counts for something." She rolled her eyes and began to pace. "Sure, I'm no Gryffindor. I'm not a prat that runs around wearing a giant badge of bravery on my sleeve, but I sure as hell will never lay down and allow someone else to make me feel inferior, least of all people like Al--Him or Kemp."

Tinsley's arms fell limp to her sides. Truthfully, she wasn't sure there was much she could do. Tinsley threw a mean right hook, but that wouldn't help her. She could see mundane details of the future, but right now, no prophecy could save her from the terribly overwhelming feeling that something was about to come to an abrupt end.

Her eyes met Ian's, her heart sank, and maybe in the back of her mind she had a feeling. Maybe that was the prophecy she had been waiting for, this tiny sensation like a grain of sand blowing in the wind, the simplest little notion that something might not be quite right.


"Everything will be fine." Lie.

"What can we do?" Nothing.

Silence filled the room.

"There must be something," whispered Tinsley, her voice hushed by frantic thought as she struggled for a solution. "If Kemp is here, and Kemp is the problem, we..." No.

They couldn't. Could they?
I'm the BO$$.
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Love Tins? Also see; Baby & Emma.
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Ian de Pointe du Lac
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Seventh Year

Tinsley pushed him. That was not the reaction he was hoping to get.

He listened. Her words fell upon him like more shoving, as if she were fighting him. Yet, as she half pleaded, half berated him, Ian felt the fearfulness lift from him and be replaced with a playful sort of antagonism.

Of course, she was Tinsley. What else could Ian expect? He loved her, then, he knew it. His eyes widened and he wanted nothing more than her right now; he wanted nothing more than to be with her until the time came for them to part.

He loved her even though she refused to allow him his crutch.

"I know a couple of things we can do," he said, half amorous, half antagonistic. He grinned at her sheepishly, crossed over to her pacing form and planted a kiss on her cheek so quickly he might have meant it to be an attack.
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Thanks Beth!

I heard the sound of a thunder, it roared out a warnin'
I heard the roar of a wave that could drown the whole world
I heard one hundred drummers whose hands were a-blazin'
I heard ten thousand whisperin' and nobody listenin'
I heard one person starve, I heard many people laughin'
Heard the song of a poet who died in the gutter
Heard the sound of a clown who cried in the alley
And it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard
And it's a hard rain's a-gonna fall.
--Bob Dylan
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Tinsley Carmicheal
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It's cute that everyone thinks they can be a queen, but remember who came FIRST.

Tinsley couldn't help herself. Her icy exterior melted the second that Ian's lips grazed against her cheek and from there, a bit of color started to bloom until her cheeks were rosy pink. "You're not going to cheer me up that easily," she snapped, typical Tinsley, but a smile was threatening to break through. She fought against it, will against muscle, but just the innocent look on Ian's face was enough to stretch her smile widely.

"Fine, you win," grinned Tinsley, shaking her head. She placed her arms around Ian's neck and hugged him tight, smiling all the while. Tinsley felt like such a child, so suddenly content, all smiles. This was a precious moment: in the back of her mind, Tinsley wasn't quite sure if she'd ever really be able to smile again after this moment, a heavy rain cloud hanging over her head.

But right now, this would be enough. Ian was always enough.

"Hey, I love you," she mumbled quietly, almost too low for Ian to hear her.
I'm the BO$$.
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Ian de Pointe du Lac
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Seventh Year

Ian smiled and pulled Tinsley by her waist in a seeming attempt to pull her closer than humanly possible.

The next few minutes were filled by a lot of pressing together of bodies and lips. The usual teenage pastimes.

Ian was the kind of lover who was timid at first, but gets braver as he goes along. He kissed her, tousled her hair so that it began to stick out of that pretty braid. This was a move that was sure to irk her after all was said and done. She did put a lot into her appearance today, but if Ian found it a turn-on to see her less done-up.

For Ian and Tinsley, riding ever-so-slightly on each others' nerves was foreplay.
Her indignant anger was sexy, and preferred over her fretting.

As things went on in this fashion, Ian's hands gradually found themselves going under things: her skirt, her sweater, fingers reaching ever so slightly down into her stockings, undoubtedly stretching the fabric--if anything pissed her off, that would be it.

Still, Ian, forever the timid one, wasn't exactly "feeling her up." He stopped just short of that.

Wuss.

((OOC: That was a bitch to write. On one hand, its weird. On the other hand, one of the reasons its so weird is because you've got to word it so that it gives the other RPer the right of refusal. You know, like with spells and their effects. It's up to the one on the receiving in to decide how it affects them and whether its a hit or a miss, lol. But, yeah, this scene is going somewhere. Also, I put the "wuss" part as a form of self-depreciation on Ian's part, but I can almost picture Tinsley thinking that, lol.))
Edited by Ian de Pointe du Lac, Nov 21 2011, 09:19:45 PM.
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Thanks Beth!

I heard the sound of a thunder, it roared out a warnin'
I heard the roar of a wave that could drown the whole world
I heard one hundred drummers whose hands were a-blazin'
I heard ten thousand whisperin' and nobody listenin'
I heard one person starve, I heard many people laughin'
Heard the song of a poet who died in the gutter
Heard the sound of a clown who cried in the alley
And it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard
And it's a hard rain's a-gonna fall.
--Bob Dylan
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Tinsley Carmicheal
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It's cute that everyone thinks they can be a queen, but remember who came FIRST.

You see, the thing about being with someone that you truly like is that suddenly, things don't seem to matter quite as much. Things that would bother Tinsley, like a flyaway out of her perfect braid or eyeliner smeared beneath her usually perfect eyes, became insignificant. It was as if they had never even existed, no worry had ever plagued her and the only thing that mattered was keeping Ian close so that he could never leave. She wanted to latch onto him and create an invisible thread that would forever keep Ian by her side.

Nothing else mattered.

In time, Tinsley pulled away, a smirk beginning to form on her face. The girl's features twisted and she looked into Ian's eyes. "What are you so afraid of?" She took his hands and placed them on her waist. "I don't bite."

"I mean, unless you want me to."




OOC: THIS SUCKED TO TYPE BECAUSE MY EYE WON'T STOP TWITCHING I JUST DON'T KNOW WHY IT WON'T STOP AM I DYING????????????? anyway yeah sorry it took me so long :/
I'm the BO$$.
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Ian de Pointe du Lac
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Seventh Year

Ian smiled, somewhat forced. But the feeling of Tinsley's waist underneath his hands was rousing. Every miniscule shift the muscles beneath her skin beneath felt like a writhing beneath his hands. The feeling was electric--empowering. He put a slight bit of pressure on her towards him, as if to lead her to him rather than to forcefully pull her close.

"I want to ask you something," he said, locking eyes with her. His voice was colored with equal parts trepidation and lust.
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Thanks Beth!

I heard the sound of a thunder, it roared out a warnin'
I heard the roar of a wave that could drown the whole world
I heard one hundred drummers whose hands were a-blazin'
I heard ten thousand whisperin' and nobody listenin'
I heard one person starve, I heard many people laughin'
Heard the song of a poet who died in the gutter
Heard the sound of a clown who cried in the alley
And it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard
And it's a hard rain's a-gonna fall.
--Bob Dylan
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