Post by Indigo Grace on Mar 10, 2012 13:10:54 GMT -5
I see a bad
moon rising don't go around tonight
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The practice room appeared as a place one could relief their stress just like how muggles took out their anger in a shooting range. You could create your own targets and watch them explode in mid-air, using a quill to draw the face of the intended victim on the front before –hand. If you were one of Lord Voldemort’s followers then I suppose you could simply kill the person themselves but for the rest of the relatively sane wizarding population, target practice would have to do. Indigo was not a very good witch. She had begun her journey in the wizarding world eons after everyone else had and while it was fair to call her fluent in English, as she had spoken it on and off since she was a little girl, it didn’t come quite as naturally to her. Reading was..a challenge, and textbooks used words that were larger than Dumbledore’s….well, let’s just say their words were really big. Never tell Indi that she wasn’t a good witch, regardless that you both knew it. There was nothing Indigo liked less than being told she was this or wasn’t that – Indi couldn’t even talk to herself that way. But, in all honesty, she Wasn’t a very good witch and being in the practice room was probably the only way she would maintain her mediocre grade in Defense Against the Dark Arts. She was finished with charms, having decided not to take it her final year but given who she was and the people she had a tendency to surround herself with? Mediocre or not, DADA was a good idea. It’s not like she would have preferred to take something else she was actually really good at, like Magical Creatures or anything, oh no, not at all. Why would she want to do something actually fun? It was quite easy now a days to get into OWL level DADA because with the recent uprisings , they believed everyone should take the class. So here she was, dropping her recycled brown shoulder bag on the floor in a lump while she pulled out her wand. Ready as she’d ever be.
Pain could fuel her. Being in pain because Ethan had left was bad, being in pain because her cousin was sicker than a dog was even worse. Her best friend - dead. Being in pain because everyone around her was freaking dropping off like flies should be the perfect ammunition to drive her to practice, practice, practice. Indigo was already ignoring the others around her. She was glad she didn’t actually have friends here anymore – they were entirely useless. Did she want to be asked how her Christmas Break was? It was fan-freakingtastic. Jada’s was even better, let me tell you. Missing Yule Ball, going back to the hospital….Indigo closed her eyes and breathed deeply, probably too deeply because it came out in a huff when she exhaled and another student glanced at her nervously. It seemed that whenever Indigo Grace had a wand in her hand people were more jumpy than usual. This was what she needed, it would be therapeutic, they said. They said. She hated “them.” They were always saying things like they knew the answer to the universe. When you practiced defense, you were supposed to be opposite of what a defensive person would really be like – although alert and in a fighting stance, one should stay calm and not let their muscles tense up. Because Indigo was always as tense and rigid as a tree, she knew she could “skip” this step as it wasn’t going to do any good. She set up her “opponent” – a wooden figure meant to represent a human that was bewitched to make lame attacks. It wasn’t very effective as it wasn’t a human and by this point, Indigo could predict nearly everything it would do. That being said, Indi was hard pressed to find anyone that would let her point her wand at them.
As the mannequin attempted a very weak, a very slow, and a very very obvious “Flippendo” like jinx, Indigo counter-attacked easily by leveling her wand and shouting, “PROTEGO!”, which was a spell that protected the wizard/witch and sent the opponent’s own spell back at them. The figure made a clumsy whooshing sound as it went flying into the back wall and landed in a heap on the ground. Indigo sighed, because she then had to go and set it up again, bewitching it to hover in the air. It was really a very tiring activity. Indi may have scrapped the idea of practicing altogether if students were not required to practice a certain amount of hours each week. It was nice to see that there were only one pair of students in the room besides her – less people to stare at her, and less people Indigo might want to maul in another moment or two. “Could you try and be even the least bit useful?” She asked the object testily, repositioning her wand. Indigo repeated the process several times, with bored shouts of “Expelliarmus, avis, immobulus” filling each spell. Eventually, someone who used the dark arts would no doubt change their line of tactic and offer Indigo a more challenging approach, but not her lovely little mannequin friend. Look at her, a defense against the dark arts pro. Indigo finally put her wand down at her side after she had literally blown up her dueling partner. The only thing in the world that would be satisfying to her right now would be blowing a person, and she kind of had a couple of people in mind. As though her temporary bloodlust had filled her eyes and shouted to the entire room, the pair that had been practicing near her grabbed their things and left the room. Now it was just Indigo and sawdust.
She needed a hobby.
|outfit, here.
|notes, OPEN!.
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