(1939-02-12) Arts Club - The Hogwarts Shield
Details for Arts Club - The Hogwarts Shield
Summary: The first impromptu meeting of the Arts Club concerns a large outline of the Hogwarts Shield. It's Painting Time. Unfortunately there's more than just Paint in play, as Esther and Sybil discuss life and boys.
Date: 1939-02-12
Location: Club Room, Hogwarts

"Not late, am I?" Sybil asks, the blonde witch walking into the club room with an art satchel hooked over one shoulder. It bulges with whatever she's stuffed into it, though looking at the supplies that have already been provided and set out, she's not going to particularly need her own. She sets the satchel on one of the desks towards the edge of the room and digs her paint brushes out, presumably because her own handle better than the standard school ones. "Its looking really good, don't you think?" This to what appears to be a Hufflepuff third year if height is anything to go by, a wave given one or two others she knows before she eventually reaches the base of the ladder that Esther's on. "Hey! Hello again!" A smile upwards to the dark-haired girl and a pretend shake given the ladder, just to make her wibble a bit.

Esther looks back from her position at height - Pallette in one hand, brush in the other, she's balancing in a way that would make modern safety officials scream. It's safe, though. And perfect for adding detail to a snake, taking pride of place on the shield. She's begun to stencil upon it's skin; 'Slytherin.' Of course, the distraction has her smile, and looking down at Sybil when she's 'shaken' lightly, smirking. A happier Esther, today. "Hello there, Sybil. How're you? I'm glad you could make it out."

Sybil twists her hair into a long rope and coils it up on top of her hair, pushing one of her brushes through to grip it in place. "Wouldn't miss it," she says, looking away from Esther and towards the snake she's working on. "That's looking good. I might start on some of the shield's outline. I'm not brilliant at painting but I can do some of the easier stuff." Dragging one of the spare stepladders to the other side of the canvas, she sets it in place then collects a pallette of colours, squeezing some gold onto it, then climbs carefully until she can reach the top edge. "Guessing its best to start at the top and work down," she says cheerfully, loading her brush with a quick dab at the paint.

"I'm worrying about my house first;" Esther murmurs quietly, dipping her black fine brush in again. Her eyes are focused on the image for now. The outline of the shield is well done, "Mainly because I don't want to let anyone else paint Slytherin." It's an odd confession, but righteous. Esther may not be happy she's a snake, but she's still /proud/. "How's life, anyway?" She asks, slowly adding more detail.

Sybil draws her brush carefully along the outer line of the border, spreading the paint in a thin, even coat. "My life? Oh its just turned a whole lot more interesting lately," she says, the faintest of colours just touching her cheeks. "And busy. Its busy too. Four N.E.W.Ts is a lot more work than I thought, thank goodness I didn't want to be an Auror or the extra workload on top of what I've already taken on really would flatten me." She pauses, glances over to the other girl. "And you? You seem a bit happier today than when I last saw you."

"I've had time to think. To let go." Esther admits, "And spending a little time with Zayn never hurt." The girl notes. "Or maybe I'm just having far more fun here, than I was before. I'm not looking forward to my NEWTs.. Well, I'm looking forward to them being over, once they've started. I hope," She doesn't notice the blush, her fine-tipped brush inscribing the lines of a person. More than one. "Perhaps it's the company."

"Well company can make all the difference," Sybil nods, pausing to wipe the edge of her brush on the side of her palette. "As for NEWTs, the time seems to just be flying past, so there's that to look forward to. I've only got a year and half left before graduation, then I'll be out there, hopefully with a healer apprenticeship. Its a little scary, a little exciting. Any idea what direction you'll be taking yourself?"

"The same." Esther adds, "Taking a specialty in abuse of magical substances." A subject close to her heart for all manner of reasons. Not the least of which are her bountiful locks, that aren't tied up because they simply won't stay that way. She's just risking getting paint all over her hair. The outline of the first person is finished, and delicate brush dipping in her paint again, wiping the excess off and resuming the fine outline of yet more peeople. She's filling a 3' x 2' space after all. There's much and more detail to add.

"Oh. Hmm. I don't think that I'll decide on a specialty until I've got a year or two under my belt," Sybil says. "And if it doesn't work out for me, I may fall back on my natural charm and nosiness to chase employment with the Daily Prophet. I'm sure I could write an entertaining column for them. Perhaps I'll do that anyway, a sort of sideline hobby thing alongside my healing." Another wipe of her brush and she peeks over at how Esther's getting along. "I wonder where they'll put this when its done, its big enough to make an impression wherever they put it. So, you and Lowe, that's all settled and you've made peace with each other?"

"No." Esther answers, the question causing her to draw a neat line right through one of the figure's faces. Her wand is withdrawn, and the incantation muttered. "Oblitero." The silhouttes are erased, and she's free to start again. "You're a girl after my own heart, Sybil;" Esther murmurs quietly. "A journalist with Healing ambitions. Too bad we're not single." It's hard to tell whether she's being serious or not, until she adds. "And one of us would need to swap genders. Myrus and I… I don't think we're going to make peace. He's determined to be all manner of unpleasant, so…" She doesn't touch brush to canvas again, until the sentence fades off.

The edge of the shield takes shape under Sybil's brush, though she, too, nearly makes a blot when Esther says that. She laughs. "Esther! Don't distract me that way! I could never be a boy, and I very much doubt that you could be either! Anyway, Gerald would have a fit. I think he'd challenge anyone that so much looked at me with a glint in their eye." She descends a step, dabs paint on her brush and resumes, brow furrowing with concentration. "I think he's the possessive type, he said he never shares. Is Zayn the same? Or haven't you found that out yet."

Esther makes the outlines again, broadstrokes definining seven figures in various poses throughout the shield. All of them fading out, stylised. There's no hints as to who is who, sadly. "He seems the combatative type. Zayn is… Not an aggressive person. He is, if anything, incredibly giving. Understanding." A scrutinising state leaves her frowning obviously, but… She continues on. They're outlines. She can correct later with a broader brush. "I'd be careful with his type though. Myrus was the same. Intensely possessive, yet overwhelmingly permissive. It's a poor combination."

"Permissive? Howso?" There's a turn of Sybil's head towards Esther with that, her hand hovering, brush held lightly between finger and thumb. "To be honest, its quite nice to be with someone that just wants to be with me and nobody else. He's been damaged by his last girlfriend, or so he says. He's so terribly worried of setting a foot wrong that even a note from me asking him to meet up has him thinking I've a problem with him, or about to dump him. I'm hoping that'll change in time."

"Damaged people are best to fix themselves, I've found." Esther seems to have found a place of peace to work from, halting midsentence for some detail work. "You don't fix a broken heart… By pretending it's not broke. I'm suprised he'd admit that, though." Finally, she climbs down the ladder - Swapping her palette out for one with colour on it, and rinsing her delicate brush. It's clipped onto the end of the palette, a broader brush taken out and treated with green. But of course.

Sybil looks down at Esther, waiting until she climbs back up the ladder before speaking again. "In many ways, I think he has healed, but healed in a way that's made him a little different from how he was before." She frowns, brows pulling together just a smidge. "I've no idea what Sunny did to him, of course, but its as if his trust has gone. Its broken. I can live with that though and its probably the same with any couple, trust needs to be earned. You still didn't say in what way that Myrus was permissive though."

"I didn't." Esther replies. It's left at that for a few long seconds, before she sighs and aborts the infil process to state. "… Myrus would let me do anything. He didn't care about who I was, only /what/ I was. I could have changed anything, everything about myself, and still had his love and support." Her brush doesn't go back to canvas. She takes a deep breath. The smile is gone now. Completely. "… He's a fool. And we nearly made something terrible, together."

"But don't you want that freedom to be who you are?" Confusion shows briefly in Sybil's eyes when she looks over to Esther, a catching of her lower lip with her teeth before she looks back to her work and applies the brush to the canvas again. "People change as they get older. I'm not the person I was two years ago and I don't suppose that I'll be the same in two years as I am now. Unless you mean changing in a more radical way than that? Isn't loving someone exactly what that is? Allowing them to change and to still feel the same for them?"

Esther turns to Sybil. She's got enough balance to sit lightly at the top of her stepladder, and frowns. "The person you love should only ever want you to be a better person. They should only ever enable people to be more than they are." A sighs. "A bad relationship is one where one party makes you less. Takes away your strength, your power. Forces you to fail. Myrus didn't make me less. He let me lower myself. He encouraged me to let myself down. Which is far worse. It meant that I… I didn't matter as much as the idea of 'me'." She explains. Or tries to.

"Ah," Sybil says, resting her brush back on her palette. She nods to Esther. "Yes. I can see how that would be horrible. If I suggested to Gerald that I do something negative that would make me feel bad about myself, I'd hope that he'd try to stop me, or at least dissuade me. I suppose that if he didn't, then I'd need to question whether he loved me or not." She smiles. "Not that we have to worry about anything like love right now, I mean, we've only just started dating. That's a long way off. Waa-aay way off."

"Mn." Esther takes a few long seconds, and then stands again. "It's not a pleasant thing." She gets up, and resumes painting. Light strokes marking where her figures will fade away, given time. "Give it time. The prize is still worth the cost of playing."

"We shall see," Sybil says. "He's the first boy I've ever actually bestowed the title of 'boyfriend' on, anyone else up until now has simply been a date. Its kind of a nice feeling." Carefully she descends the ladder and lays her palette down, giving a small stretch of her shoulders. "I'm going to make a tea. Would you like one? I feel quite parched. Perhaps its the altitude of being up a ladder." She makes a small joke with that, re-affixing a length of hair that's escaped her updo. "Zayn, though. He makes you feel secure?"

"He does." Esther nods. "He… Keeps me in line, but embraces who I am and who I will be." It's a fitting thing, and what she wants in a boyfriend. "He deals with things differently from me. We'll see how that plays out in the long term, but…" It's hard for Esther to discuss the past. She generally avoids it, so her memories don't get confused and she doesn't say something that might get her i ntrouble. "I'd love a cup. I'll just do a little more up here." The colors are mixed for a more intense, vibrant green - Detailing her snake, before she clambers down. Her brush needs washing, anyways.

Sybil has the tea ready when Esther climbs back down, a plate of biscuits too. "Then that's all you could ask of," she says to her, referring back to how Zayn treats her. "Here." A nudge is given one of the cups as Sybil hoists herself up to sit on one of the tables, her feet resting on the seat of the chair beneath. "Has he asked you to do anything for Valentines yet? Have you dared place yourself in the hands of the Divination class? I decided that I would, just to see what happens."

"Elizabeth asked me to. And I hope that he would, but… Whether or not he does remains to be seen." Esther takes the cup in one hand, taking a similar seat opposite Sybil, and sipping cautiously. "I thought it would be interesting. However I'll burn their tower to the ground if anyone so much as mentions a certain person."

"That -would- be unfortunate," Sybil says, taking a biscuit and dunking it into her tea. She holds it there for a precisely measured amount of time before lifting it quickly and transferring it to her mouth. "I have to admit, it does worry me that it'll lead me to people that I've never considered before, but so long as Gerald is amongst those, then I'll no reason to question the result. I'm rather keen on divination myself, so its a bit of a test for me too."

Esther shakes her head. "I've dabbled in the future. I'm not a fan of what I found there, so I turned my mindback to the present." It's why it's no longer a study of hers. "I Think the future itself leads us to strange and new people. It lead me to you, without some kind of questionnaire, even. And we'll see what comes of it."

Sybil sips her tea, letting the steam just filter past her lashes. "Yes. It did. It might be that I'm not the sort of friend that's able to offer much useful advice, but I'm always happy to listen. I know that I've a little bit of a reputation as someone that knows everything that's going on, but that's perhaps only because people can also trust me not to speak on something if its sensitive. Does that make sense? I hope it does." Another biscuit. Another dunk. Another bite.

Esther nods. "I try to be the same. Where I can. Apparently I have an… Unstable reputation." The girl bites her lower lip for a moment, and then sips. No biscuits. "Friends are hard to find. Good friends harder still. So I try not to question too deeply what they can offer beyond that.

Esther nods. "I try to be the same. Where I can. Apparently I have an… Unstable reputation." The girl bites her lower lip for a moment, and then sips. No biscuits. "Friends are hard to find. Good friends harder still. So I try not to question too deeply what they can offer beyond that. I enjoy them for what, and who, they are."

Sybil regards Esther a moment. "And I probably have too -many- friends. Then again, perhaps they aren't all friends that I would trust with my secrets either. So long as someone isn't tilting their nose up at me, I'll pretty much talk to anyone. And yes. There are those that tilt their noses." She doesn't mention any names, but a look of amusement just dances between her eyes.

"Oh, I know." Esther agrees. "I'd say friendship goes both ways, too. At least, I would now. I've experienced a one-way friendship in the past, and it's not a road I'll travel down again." The girl shakes her head, and sighs. "I've always envied social butterflies. Trusting like that." Of course, Sybil is her Trust Experiment.

Sybil laughs, the sound warm and rich. "Well. I suppose that I -am- one of those," she says with the tiniest of shrugs lifting her shoulders. "Believe me though, there are those that have hurt me too, probably not the way that you've been hurt, but unkind words can cut as sharply as any knife." A pause, a crinkling of her nose. "Now let me see, there was that time that Fiona Carlisle said that my robes were so last year…" She's teasing, perhaps a little.

"Oh, perish the thought. I've worse - Someone called my hair frizzy, the other day." Actually, Frizzy Haired Bitch, but… She didn't need to share that. Esther smiles though, again. She's found some happiness again. "How cruel some people can be."

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License