everything has changed | closed

[arden bingham]

Arden ran a hand through her long auburn locks as she gathered her books together in her bag. The day of classes had been rather tumultuous and she wasn't exactly in the mood to head back to her common room to study amongst the rowdy upper years. As much as she wished she could enjoy social contact like that, it seemed unlikely at the present time. As she stuffed the last of her potions textbooks into her bag, she swung the canvas strap over her shoulder and grunted slightly as the weight landed heavily upon it. She sighed and again tossed some hair from her chocolate dark eyes as she left the room. She was walking down the corridor, heading towards the library to catch up on one of her darker books, when she heard idle chit chat concerning something she found rather interesting. It involved a new professor at the school, one who was rather adept at the dark arts, something Arden was extremely passionate about. In fact, the young girl had been studying the dark arts herself for quite some time now and she knew it was one of the reasons a few at the school attempted to avoid her at all costs. Apparently, behind the sweet face of a pretty young woman, she could be seen as a threat. Right they were to believe it for it was the truth. She fooled many a man with this throughout her days, knowing most thought she was just shy. No, she just didn't like to bothered by frivolities.

As her ears perked up she slowed her gait and listened curiously to the voices that spoke of him. Professor Pivane... it was an interesting name, one that rolled so easily off the tongue. She smiled and quickly diverted her route to include this Professor's office, if she could ever find it. Thankfully, she knew the general area where the old Dark Arts classrooms were and knew how to successfully navigate the corridors until she found it. As she passed the offices of other Professors, she read the name plates to the left of the door, but none were the correct name. Just as she was prepared to give up, she spotted one last door. She approached it and carefully read out the name to herself. Professor Pivane it was. She beamed with delight but quickly masked it with curiously as she raised a hand to the dark door and rapped on it three times.

She waited patiently before being let in. When she turned the brass knob, she poked her head inside, dark brown tresses falling off her shoulders to frame her face, and she saw a man behind a desk. He was handsome and he seemed as though he wouldn't exactly be the best for the dark arts. That is, until she got a closer look at his face. She closed the door behind her and walked slowly towards his desk. Without even thinking twice, she extended her slim hand out to greet him. "Hello Professor, I'm Arden Bingham." Her smooth voice seemed to echo in the slightly empty room.

ooc: normally my posts aren't this awful, they'll get better (i'm rusty) lol

[chait pivane]

The fire was just beginning to heat up the room, as even with the extra wizarding touches it took a bit for the fireplace's heat to radiate through the wide space. Chait had been out on the grounds, making a mental map of his new surroundings until the stack of unread books on his desk had beckoned him back to the comforts of his office. His jacket was still on, partially to defend against the chill and partially out of absentmindedness as he lost himself in the book's pages. This particular one he had picked up when he had been in Beijing, explaining more in depth about the Chinese Yaoguai and the story of Bai Gu Jing in particular. His time with friends in China had been enlightening about their superstitions and demonic mythologies, but compared to his knowledge of other cultures, he still had much to learn of China's legends and mysteries. As he read his hand toyed with the ears of a plump black cat, his companion Marie, who purred quietly and contentedly from her seat atop a pile of parchments on his desk.

Chait vaguely stirred at the knock on his door, much more interested in scribbling notes on a parchment about the first hand account of a holy man's experience with the Yaoguai, when a fox spirit attempted to devour him in order to achieve immortality. It was only when the door opened that he was snapped out of his reading and his eyes went to the newcomer entering his room. He glanced swiftly at the broomstick lining his doorway--beautiful. The young witch had had to step over it in order to enter the office. Absentmindedly he touched the side of his nose quickly, a hardly noticeable movement, and smiled softly at the young witch. "Hello, Miss Arden. Pleased to meet you. I'm Professor Pivane."

Now that his head was no longer ducked, he revealed the ugly scar protruding from his neck, the mass of twisted flesh unseemly and startling. It started from under the neck of his shirt, twisting upwards to a brutal and jagged slice across the neck, many lines breaking across to suggest that it hadn't been a clean cut and the rough scars of a poor stitching indicating that the healing process had been nearly as ugly. It was an old scar but still mixed with whites and red shades against his tan, weathered skin, but it had become such a part of Chait that he had learned to move beyond its grasp. He stood politely, extending a hand towards hers and enclosing it with his calloused hand, a firm but gentle handshake.

He was excited. His eyes shone at her with a friendly gleam and he smiled easily, happy to see a student visiting him. He had hardly been here a couple days and had met very few students so far-- mostly because his class would not start until next term. Matching names to faces became the highlight of his days. For the briefest moments he wondered of the state of his office with its strange relics on the walls and altar to his left-- covered with symbols from many cultures, candied and painted skulls and plates of baked goods and fresh produce. It would certainly be an interesting thing to explain, should students ask. But Miss Arden was the first student to enter his office space (and hopefully not the last), so he was certain he would have a reputation in the hallways sooner rather than later. "Ah, I recognize your name. You're signed up for a class with me next term." he commented with his crackly, raspy voice, still thick and deep as it had once been but peppered with scarring itself. "I'm glad to find a student interested in the Dark Arts."

ooc: Not at all! Looks great to me

[arden bingham]

Arden hadn't been shy in quite some time but for whatever reason, the aura the professor seemed to emit was strong and left her a little speechless. It was as though a strong wind had knocked out her voice. The only thing she could think of doing is shaking his hand lightly, and had no idea how to act after the two had properly greeted. That was partially due to the intimidation of someone who really knew Dark Magic, and then it also came from the realization that there wasn't some strange turtleneck upon him but instead a ghastly scar snaking its way long his neck. She was mesmerized slightly, trying her best not to show her awe and wonderment at what the young Professor could have accomplished. She had no idea what people did with magic outside of school, for she had not really been given much of a chance. But she was going to prepare herself for the worst, hence her visit to Professor Pivane's office. She wanted to get to know him before anyone else did, hopefully find herself with a mentor by the end of the day. It didn't help that his eyes seemed to find their way into her soul, encountering some of her deepest darkest vulnerabilities. She shuddered at the thought.

"I did," she said calmly, lowering herself into one of the chairs in front of his desk. She plopped her bag onto the ground and it landed with a thump. She crossed her legs, taking another sweep of the room as she began to relax into her environment. She didn't feel too nervous anymore as she knew she was hopefully making a strong impression on him. "I'm really quite looking forward to the class, but the reason I came here today is because I kind of wanted to ask a favour of you." Odd, she was never really so punctual in her language, never truly caring about how she sounded. In the back of her mind, she wanted to impress him and make him like her. Make him want to help her and lead her into a darker world than that which will be explained in class. She liked the idea of having someone like an older brother, considering she'd always only been surrounded by sisters (let alone sisters who absolutely didn't help in her wanting to ever be a good person).

She tucked some hair behind her ear and glanced at him through her long, dark lashes. In a way, she wanted him to think she was more than just some schoolgirl. Because she was. She was taken aback by his young age and his piercing eyes, and it was clear that she was going to want to spend more time getting to know him and the Dark Arts. A brief flash of Raif flashed through her mind and she pushed it out immediately. Not only was she not interested in him (that was actually such a lie) but she didn't want to play games. She didn't want to keep thinking he would change and all of a sudden fall head over heels for her - that was unrealistic and it would get in the way of her dark education. "I was hoping," she started, her voice a little more suggestive, "You'd be interesting in providing some extra tutelage before the term begins? There's something amazing about the dark arts, I have this... need to be connected to them and I was hoping you could help me understand it a little better."

[/blockquote][/blockquote]

[chait pivane]

Chait's eyes followed her as she took a seat, gazing intently into her face as she spoke, noticing her tone, her voice, her eye contact-- everything she radiated as she moved. It was an old habit his family had instilled into him, watch what the person says rather than listen for much more often it proved the truth. It seemed excessive and horribly unnecessary when he first thought about his interactions with his students. But such habits had been set into his bones deeply and fully so that all attempts to relax from such were near impossible. It was another nervous tick, another superstitious habit, another continuous frame of mind that he was likely to never shake. After all, how else had he worked to get this position if it weren't for such sometimes invasive interactions? Regardless, politely he sat down at his desk in turn, returning to scratch the head of the cat who regarded Arden with a lazed disinterest.

Quietly he listened to her request, carefully observing her as he thoughts raced a mile a minute. Private lessons. The thought seemed exciting but daunting in its own way. This had been something he had thought of before, of how to handle students who had a vested interest in the dark arts. It was a tricky line to wander, to show students how to use this dangerous magic-- understanding that dark magic had its important purpose in the society. But more often than not, someone's deep-set interest in dark arts had ulterior motives and Chait hardly had any desire to fuel students rivalries and end up with kids ending up in the hospital wing over petty reasons.

Then again though. As he regarded Arden carefully, he did not sense an attempt to deceive him. She seemed honest. Polite, careful, maybe even attempting to charm him (unless she was simply a naturally charming young woman), but ultimately honest. When she had finished speaking he leaned back in his chair, regarding her quietly. For a moment there was a silence and nothing but the crackle of fire in the fireplace behind him and a few quiet noises from throughout the room, a soft whirring, a faint growling, and the softest of what sounded like whimpers. Then he leaned forward again, regarding her quietly as he asked, "Tell me, Miss Arden. Why the dark arts?" Here was the question, the crucial question. Chait knew within himself that each student would have to face this question throughout their lives and no student of his could receive private lessons unless they had faced this before.