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 Owl Post, Open
Simon Bican
 Posted: Mar 10 2018, 12:47 AM
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Simon Bican

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Simon was not the same boy he had been his first few weeks at Ilvermorny. Much of it was obvious, the differences of eleven versus sixteen: He was taller, broader, voice deeper - less boy and more man. The wizarding world and Ilvermorny were no longer foreign, and that came through in his confidence. He strode in the direction of the owlery with the attitude of one who knew he belonged here; there was no open-mouth gawking, nor any simmering pre-teen rage at each new wonder he discovered that his father had been both denied and denier.

He was different, too, from the end of fifth year, although the change was not as dramatic. The last of the baby fat around his face had melted away over the summer, and all his features had seemingly fallen into place. And while his feet may disagree, post-intensive his body was in peak physical condition. He would have to work hard to maintain it while at school and with only Silvia for assistance.

But there was one thing that had remained consistent over those five years, and was looking to hold strong into his sixth and that was mail. Simon's mother, Viorica, had sent one letter or package each week - swapping from Simon one week, to Silvia the next, then back to Simon - without fail. And on each off-week, Simon had sent something back. Sometimes his letters were short, sometimes from Viorica it was just a letter. Other times it was something longer, with print-outs of No-Maj sports attached from Viorica, or reports on how Simon had done in tests or on papers. It was a decent-sized letter today, outlining what had happened since start of school, his plans for the year and the like.

(Silvia's letter would no doubt be larger, full of gossip about all her friends.)

The sad thing though, was evident upon stepping into the owlery (taking care to avoid stepping on owl pellets or getting dirt on his jeans or black jacket. Because that would be gross). Despite the variety of species and sizes, owned by students and communal school owls, Simon's admiring eyes were unable to find his owl. Because he didn't have one. Once he graduated and was out of his parents' house, maybe he'd get one of his own. Right now, though, his dad's attitude towards magic made bringing in an owl a bad idea, and it remained a future dream.

"Hey there," he said to a very handsome large male barn owl, who preened under Simon's attention. "Owl you doing?"

-
[Open. :) Timing is afternoon of the first Sunday after classes.]
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Imogen Morrison
 Posted: Mar 12 2018, 10:35 AM
QUOTE

Immy. Mimi

Age / 16 | Height /

Pronouns /

Blood Type / Mixed blood

Hometown / Carmel

Single / And on the prowl

Post Count/ 23

Shellers | she/her







Waiting for Oscar to finish his letter home was like waiting for Christmas. Imogen always set the day and time on when his letter should be ready for her to send home to their parents. Basically because of time differences between the East and West coast, she wanted to allow more time for the poor owl to make the journey. By the doors waiting to go outside, she had her own ready to go. It was filled with events of the week, how her friends were doing asking how they were. After five years of doing this, she had become a dab hand and every month or so, she'd send letters to her granparents and her aunts just to keep them in the loop on school life.

Oscar showed up in dark baggy jeans and denim jacket with a hooded jumper under it, his dark hair a mess. His excuse was that he was doing some "hardcore guitar practice" for the upcoming talent show. Sighing, she took his letter saying thanks and she'll see him later.

Zipping up her vintage dark red leather jacket aka her mothers that she had worn at Imogen's age and briskly walking to the Owl Tower. A walk that normally didn't take that long usually but today for some reason she was walking into a head wind. Her dark brown Uggs carried her across the grounds but the wind whipped some erratic hairs around her face despite it being tied back in a lomg dark ponytail. She cursed to herself, hoping that there was an owl there willing to brave the stronger September breeze.

Walking in, she sorted herself out and then made her way quickly up the staircase. Being the outdoors type Imogen got to the top quickly but the overpowering smell made her take a breath. So many owls in one place really made a stench.

Imogen greeted Simon with a smile. "Hi Simon," she greeted brightly. It seemed as though the summer was good to him as it was to her. The scrawny tomboy had blossomed and hit the start of woman hood and looked like a dark haired version of her mother. As she chose a stronger looking Tawny Owl to carry the letters all the way to California. Slowly approaching the hunter of the night, she gently used her first two fingers to stroke the owls head to gain the trust. It was times like this she wished she had her own owl, or heck her own pet. Next trip out she was definitely getting herself a cat.


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profileshipper
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Simon Bican
 Posted: Mar 12 2018, 07:02 PM
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Simon Bican

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He hadn't expected his solitude to remain for long. It may have been Sunday, but others would come to send off their post, whether it was last minute or on their regular schedule. (For Simon it was the former, liking the way it meant that the letter would hit whatever system sorted the mail into the No-Maj postal system. An owl may have been more convenient, but the Bicans had their reasons for keeping things the way it had been before the twins started at Ilvermorny.) Much of the time people kept their distance or were too focused on the task at hand to stay and chat - especially if they were wanting to get in and out quickly, and not be exposed to the smell, or the noise, or the many many pairs of eyes that watched them curiously, like right now.

“Imogen. Hey.”

He knew her about as well as he did every other girl in their year that wasn't Silvia or a Horned Serpent. But he liked her as much as he could; he was generally as polite as Simon got, which his sister would proclaim a massive step forward. The type of person Silvia (and his mother - yes, he still remembered That Summer Talk) like to say he could stand to interact with a little more. She wasn't one of those snooty Purebloods who seemed to be everywhere.

Maybe they were just the loudest voices rather than the largest numbers. Whatever the case, Simon wasn't interested in finding out.

“So…” he started, then stopped upon realising he had nothing really to say. Then he recognised the owl she was using as one he'd used in the past. “You stuck using a loaner owl as well?”

-
Imogen Morrison
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Imogen Morrison
 Posted: Mar 15 2018, 01:49 PM
QUOTE

Immy. Mimi

Age / 16 | Height /

Pronouns /

Blood Type / Mixed blood

Hometown / Carmel

Single / And on the prowl

Post Count/ 23

Shellers | she/her







After a couple of moments of petting the Tawny, Imogen's smile broke into a beaming smile. Growing up both in Sweden and Carmel meant that nature was always on her doorstep and owls be them tamed or wild were pretty much a constant. She turned to look at Simon and slowly and carefully attached the letters to the birds leg.
"Yeah. Trying to persuade mom and dad into getting one is a non-starter," Imogen had even tried getting her brother Oscar in on the buttering up but they hit a wall.

She knew Simon through lessons and the two were amicable enough maybe it was time to actually have a proper talk about anything. Except the weather, the wind was a bit of a surprise. Yeah, given the the time of year it wasn't that weird but it seemed more intense than normal. Plus weather talk was rock bottom conversation and that was a universal fact.

"The weekly letter home for you to is it? I never know what to write in the first letter back," short of putting in about being horrified when a ferret morphed into Professor Myers in the middle of Yoga and lessons, there really wasn't much to say. As pointless as she found it, chatting to her parents was something she missed. She liked hearing her mum rant about work and vent in Swedish and her dad was looking into a new premises in Greylock for his gastro restaurant. It was just little things she missed.


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profileshipper
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Simon Bican
 Posted: Mar 16 2018, 04:48 AM
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Simon Bican

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Simon nodded, completely understanding. "I want an owl, but my parents aren't the biggest fans." To be truthful, Viorica would be happy to have one, as she had on more than one occassion cooed at how cute the owl delivering the twins mail was. It was Aurel who always grumbled and griped. "My dad would say something like," and here Simon took on his father's heavy Romanian accent, instead of his regular Staten Island one, "''Why do you need to be so cruel, having an owl in New York? They are wild creatures, not pets.'" Switching back to normal he added with a shrug, "Well, imagine that in Romanian, I guess."

Over the summer he had made a promise to his mother that he would try more. That was part of what she expected in his letters. There was nothing of the sort in the letter he took a moment to attach to his owl, but maybe in the next one. Dear Mom, today I managed to talk to a girl in my year and outside of class too. And no, it wasn't Silvia.

"Every two weeks for me," Simon said. "It's not fair to Mom to write two letters each week, one for me and one for Sil." Although she probably would if the twins had no insisted otherwise. Simon's hand ached in sympathy at the thought of that - or maybe it was at the idea of himself struggling with a letter a week when he had homework he'd be much happier doing. Really, homework was much better than trying to decide what would make Viorica happy while being in the realm of believability. "The first one... I mostly just let her know that I arrived alive, that my classes are sorted. I save the 'so I got punched in the face again' letter for the second go around." He was only 75% joking there, but he chuckled to show he wasn't serious about it. "I bet you don't have that problem."

--
Imogen Morrison
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Imogen Morrison
 Posted: Mar 17 2018, 05:49 AM
QUOTE

Immy. Mimi

Age / 16 | Height /

Pronouns /

Blood Type / Mixed blood

Hometown / Carmel

Single / And on the prowl

Post Count/ 23

Shellers | she/her







Her face broke out into a beaming smile over Simon’s Romanian accent and gave a non-mocking applause it was pretty damn good. Her time in Sweden for a short time and also spending time at the Ministry with her mother in her home country made her aware of different Eastern European accents. “My parents thinking is we have enough owls back home, why have another,” plus her mum wasn’t particularly fond of owls. Now dogs and cats, she was all for. It was that, that made her want a cat more but a younger cat. Kitten’s require time and attention and what with classes, Spirit Squad, Adventure Club and other things. No, a younger cat was much better.

Every two weeks!? On one level that idea appealed to Imogen as it will fill the letters out a bit more from the hum-drum of the usual boring information of how lessons were and how she was looking out for Oscar. Her chocolate brown eyes widened at disbelief at Simon’s mention of him getting punched in the face. “Seriously?” she wasn’t to sure if he was taking the mick or not. Why in the name of Merlin would anyone want to hurt him.

“No, mine are usually filled with that I haven’t had an argument with anyone yet,” and on that front she was being serious. It was never petty things she argued over but mainly over what facts in trash magazines were true about friends and only once when she was a feisty fourth year were wands ever drawn and then a Howler was sent, not by her mum but her calm and chill dad. Truth be told, her mum was actually proud but then again her going to Durmstrang made her a lot more tolerant to wands off at dawn.




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profileshipper
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Simon Bican
 Posted: Mar 17 2018, 06:38 AM
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Simon Bican

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"I don't really send home letters telling Mom about my fights," he said with a crooked grin. He wasn't that awful a son. "I don't read Sil's, but I'm sure if anyone were to send home a letter about me causing trouble, it might be her." He perked up a bit then, the crooked grin growing more broader, and perhaps a little cheeky. "Somehow I've managed to not have the school send that letter. And No-Maj parent perk: No Howlers even if I did."

Simon had seen the aftermath of more than one Howler sent by an unhappy parent, often the Pureblood families who wanted to publicly shame their child into obedience. Viorica didn't need to publicly throw a tantrum and scare Simon; her way was more good-natured teasing, coupled with a hint of loving embarrassment for flavour.

God, or Merlin, or whoever help Simon and Silvia when they finally brought a partner home to meet the parents.

Simon turned away from Imogen to focus on the barn owl for a bit, one on one attention. A little treat, another head scritch and the owl was more than happy to take possession of the letter. After repeating the letter's destination twice, Simon gave the owl one more treat and then stepped back. "Off you go, then. Safe travels and good hunting." And off the owl went, out into the hopefully not-wild weather outside.

"So," he said after a moment of watching the owl get smaller and smaller and smaller. "If you haven't had an argument with anyone yet, what have you been up to this year that's worth writing home about?"


--
Imogen Morrison
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Imogen Morrison
 Posted: Mar 18 2018, 06:53 PM
QUOTE

Immy. Mimi

Age / 16 | Height /

Pronouns /

Blood Type / Mixed blood

Hometown / Carmel

Single / And on the prowl

Post Count/ 23

Shellers | she/her







"Oh come on. She wouldn't, would she?"
Although to be fair, Oscar would probably do that to her but that's down to the fact that he was thirteen and yet to learn. "Maybe it's a sibling thing? I don't know,"
As the oldest, Imogen was expected to set the example and when the oldest failed the younger one would tell on them. So with that logic she had learned to get in with her misgivings first.

The owl hooted as if it was impatient to do it's job that Imogen came up for. If she wanted to send letters, she should get round to it. The bird gently nipped at her fingers and Imogen gave it a stern look. She gave the address and watched as it flew away hoping that her parents would get there letters in about two days. It was a long trip to California.

"I uh. I may have called Professor Myers cute," her face went a tiny but red as she recounted the event all over again. Her lips were slightly pursed and her eyes were filled with horror. "He was in ferret form, I was doing Yoga, I didn't know it was him. I scratched his head..." Imogen's voice trailed off as she spoke. One day in the future maybe that'll be funny but right now, not so much.


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profileshipper
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Simon Bican
 Posted: Mar 19 2018, 07:15 AM
QUOTE
Simon Bican

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Simon said nothing to confirm or deny whether or not Silvia would tattle on him, but the grin made it clear. The pair of them had each other's backs, and when it came down to it nothing could divide them. Sure, Silvia might tell their mom something interesting, but only if the result was some amused teasing at best. Neither of them had told Viorica about the Michael incident of the summer holiday - even though Silvia had been really upset to catch her brother and the guy she had a crush on with faces mashed together.

(To be fair to Simon, he'd had no idea Silvia felt that way. And he wasn't the one to put the moves on Michael. Michael had been the one to push Simon up against a wall for not picking up on his hints, thank you very much. And most importantly, Simon had dropped him the moment he'd heard the pain and humiliation in his twin's voice.)

He almost burst out into actual laughter at Imogen’s tale. Yoga? A ferret? Calling a teacher ‘cute’? Then he did a double take and completely lost it. “You pet a teacher?” The laughter continued for a moment before subsiding. Oh, the day had certainly improved.

“Okay so,” Simon began, before catching himself and taking a moment to steady himself. She pet a teacher! “Okay, so is this the part where, having bonded, we talk about cute boys? Because I have to say, I guess Meyers can be cute, if you're into that sort of thing. Animal magnetism and all that. But when it comes to ridiculously hot for teacher, it's Cortés-Castilla all the way. Although Scribe could be a strong contender, I bet.”

Simon did not have an actual teacher hotness ranking written down in his diary. Of course not. He kept it in the back of his head where no nosy sister could find it. That was much smarter.

--
Reply for Imogen Morrison. Mentions of Santiago Cortés-Castilla, Briar Rose Scribe, and Craig Meyers.
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Imogen Morrison
 Posted: Mar 26 2018, 01:55 PM
QUOTE

Immy. Mimi

Age / 16 | Height /

Pronouns /

Blood Type / Mixed blood

Hometown / Carmel

Single / And on the prowl

Post Count/ 23

Shellers | she/her







Imogen's face broke out into a smile before she was in a fit of giggles. It was funnier when she shared it but when keeping it to yourself, it was horrifying to say the least. "Yes I did," it felt that it needed context now but in her bout of semi hysterics, it was difficult. Taking a breath and calming herself down she could feel her cheeks in a flushed state. "I thought he was a secret pet of someone's," knowing full well that ferrets weren't the pet of choice, it could be plausible. Oh the humiliations, Imogen was certainly glad she wasn't taking Ancient Runes or the awkward level would certainly be at embarrasing.

"Cortes-Castilla?" she asked. Imogen's dark eyes widened and her heart went a little faster, almost skipping a beat. The new History of Magic teacher had that smokey, dark look that she found incredibly attractive. "Oh. My God, he is HOT! I mean not in the same league as Professor Blair of course..." Imogen's voice trailed off a little. If there was ever a man to get young teenage hormones racing, it would be him. Fourth year was filled with puppy love like crush on him and it was a hard phase to get out of. Cortes-Castilla though had this aura though and he was teaching her best subject, it was going to be a tough year.

This year was already hard enough what with whirlwind Italian romances, dishy professors and crushes on guy friends she had known since her first year. Why was this age so hard? Let alone confusing. Imogen hoped that near the end of it all, it would have levelled out and calmed down but her imediate future disagreed. Loudly.


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profileshipper
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