Cait Sayer
Ghost
Hufflepuff Ghost
I may be dead... but I'm still pretty!
Posts: 29
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Post by Cait Sayer on Oct 3, 2008 0:22:57 GMT 1
Floating in the window of the Care of Magical Creatures room when Idris took his class outside was rather dull. She could have gone out, but the weather didn’t look too nice, and she still felt cold. Frowning to herself she walked through the wall that stood in-between the classroom and Idris’ office. Ordered. Just how he liked it. Looking out of the window she smirked to herself. She had time.
She half walked half drifted towards his desk. Being a ghost had its positives, but a hell of a lot of negatives too. It took a hell of a lot of brain power to move stuff. Considering she couldn’t really use a wand anymore without thinking too hard, she found it slightly easier just to think slightly intently and move thing physically. She did so on a regular basis. Whether it was putting a coat from the stand to the back of the chair whilst Idris wasn’t looking, or moving his mug without him noticing as he worked.
She looked in his mug now, half full. He always freaking left his tea half finished, left to fester for a few hours whilst he taught his classes. She screwed up her face and poked the mug. He hand went straight through it, through the liquid without so much as a ripple. ”Fun,” she thought to herself sarcastically. Her forehead creased as she willed her hand to take a solid hold on the cup and she moved it to the right hand side of his desk. Such a little thing, but so important to him.
Like everything else in his office. His ordered books. His marked and unmarked piles of students work. His other paperwork in the drawers neatly filed away. Everything he had organized so not even a quill was out of place.
That was soon to change.
Cait picked up the two piles of paper that adorned his desk. She giggled, faintly giggled as she threw them up into the air, the unmarked essays mixing with those he already had; those that came on two different pieces of parchment now lay at separate ends of the mess. She bit down on her lip as she turned her attention to his draw. It always took more effort to open, squeaking and generally being quite tough to pull on when it took you all your will power to be corporeal enough to touch things.
Once she finally had the draw open after about a minute of careful concentration and much pulling she laid her hand on all of his other ‘important’ documents. She took them gently, and lay them across his desk in a random order. Some upside down, others mixed with other documents. Some in the pile of work that adorned the surrounding floor like a carpet.
She smiled smugly to herself. What next? Spinning around slightly, taking her full advantage and floating to the centre of the ceiling she scoured his room for something else. It was already a perfect mess, the draw still open, the scattering of papers. As she twisted the bookshelf came into view. Every book categorized by country and then by author. The perfect chance to do something annoying.
Ripping the first few books from the shelf and throwing them off in random directions left her some room to shove other books into their places. She continued her charade until her translucent head started to ache. Running her ghostly fingers through her long shining hair she smiled to herself. The room, was in a word, a tip.
”Lovely,” she mused. Just what Idris wouldn’t want to come back to.
Cait nodded and took one last smug look at the room she left behind. She wanted to be there when Idris came back, but that would make to far too obvious who it was. Going through his draws, disorganizing his papers that only she and he knew how were organized. His now empty and open draw.
Hang on, she thought to herself, floating backwards through the wall and turning her attention back to the desk. What about that draw, the one she hadn’t looked it? The one she hadn’t touched?
Laying her hand on the handle she pulled. It didn’t budge. She yanked again. Nothing.
She frowned. The twittering of voices could be heard approaching Argell’s classroom. Her cue to leave. In doing so however, she pushed the quill pot off of the desk, and frowned to herself some more. What the hell was I that draw? Why wouldn’t it open? More importantly, why hadn’t she noticed it before?
That, Idris would have to answer for her. And soon.
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Post by alsa on Oct 4, 2008 12:51:45 GMT 1
Under normal circumstances, Idris preferred his outdoors lessons to the indoors ones. They were more hands on and meant he had to do less talking, which meant there were fewer questions asked which lead to a happy class as Idris didn't try to get one of them mauled accidentally-on-purpose. However, today it seemed as if perhaps Grey was actually telling the truth - the Hufflepuff first years had been asking a ridiculous amount of inane and stupid questions and Idris had been on the verge of hexing one of them himself when the stupid child had asked, for the fifth time in as many minutes, what the creature was called. It was all he could do not to throw one of the Puffskeins at him and hope it exploded in his face.
So when the same child followed him all the way back to his office, nattering about bugger all, Idris was fuming on the inside and gave the kid an extra seven inches homework. That would teach him for asking annoying, inane questions all the time. And if it didn't, well, the Graphorn threat was still open...
Idris unlocked his office door - he didn't trust the students, hell he didn't trust half the teachers - and slipped into his office, closing the door behind him before he noticed anything was wrong.
At least the scowl was off his face, replaced by surprise.
His papers were everywhere, books were off the shelves (and was that one stuck in the candle chandelier?), and as he approached the desk he noticed that his cup had moved, his drawer open and relieved of its contents... His room was a tip! He was standing on paper just to get to the desk!
He span around, scanning the walls for a ghostly girl, whom he knew had to have done it. He could feel his face turning red from anger, and he turned back to the desk, bending down to pick a few of the papers up until he could come back and sort them properly. With that done, he took a swig of his stone cold tea, put it back in its proper place, and calmly leaned against his desk, linking his fingers in front of him.
The culprit always returned to the scene of the crime, and she was going to be glad she was dead, because he'd have killed her if she wasn't.
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Cait Sayer
Ghost
Hufflepuff Ghost
I may be dead... but I'm still pretty!
Posts: 29
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Post by Cait Sayer on Oct 6, 2008 0:23:21 GMT 1
Cait did indeed return to the scene of the crime. Fairly quickly too. Though she didn’t make herself known for a fair while, she watched his movements through the keyhole of his office door. She laughed silently to herself as he rooted through papers and drank his stone cold tea. ”Ewh,” she said to herself. That was one thing she never understood. Cold tea. It was the most evil thing in existence yet he drank it. Screwing up her nose and sticking her tongue out at his actions she stood up straight and walked through his door.
”Bloody hell, Idris,” she said, looking round at the mess she had so expertly created, ”What the hell happened here?” As if he didn’t know it was her. A smirk spread on her face and she approached him. It wasn’t like he could hurt her – she was already dead.
She had nothing to fear.
”Looks like somebody could do with a houseelf,” she said, smiling to herself as she walked herself through his desk to stand in front of him. She loved abusing her power. Not that she had a lot these days, but she could still mess with his head. Appearing and disappearing as she so wished, walking through walls at inopportune moments and generally making his life hell.
She was always there, no matter where he went, he could never escape her. Leaving him alone in the world. Apart from Abe, who the guy constantly got drunk with. She’d seen some of the Owl messages lying around about meeting up for drinks. Maybe she could use Abe to get to Idris as well?
Meh, where was the fun in getting somebody else to do your own dirty work. It was far more satisfying to see the results when it was you that had done it!
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Post by alsa on Oct 20, 2008 9:34:50 GMT 1
ooc: *iz blatantly alive*
He didn't have to wait long until the familiar form of a ghostly, pyjama clad girl walked through the solid wood of his door, smirking. He felt a small pang of sorrow as she entered, as he always did when seeing her - forever stuck at seventeen, and the only person he'd actually dated in his life, unable to bring himself to look at anyone else - before the annoyance reasserted itself. He'd been back at Hogwarts with Cait's ghost haunting him for too long to feel too sad for too long these days.
He did, however, manage to keep a mostly neutral expression as she spoke, despite the rage fast building up in his system. He was sure that ghosts weren't supposed to be able to do half the things she did, but that was typical Cait, wasn't it? Pushing herself to go above and beyond what was necessary if it involved making him angry. Was it some kind of twisted playground logic, pulling on someone's hair because you like them, or did she just get a kick out of tormenting him? He feared that he'd never know.
"That's something I'd rather like to find out myself," he replied as calmly as possible, still managing to sound like the world's biggest arsehole as he did. What had she ever seen in him? "Care to give your thoughts?"
He rolled his eyes as she walked through his desk, deliberately taunting him with the fact that he couldn't just stun her or hex her like he could an annoying first year. He could find a basilisk and petrify her for a few years, but the potential for that to go wrong was far too great and Idris was rather attatched to his own skin, sod anyone else's being lost. "And somebody else could do with learning some manners, but you don't hear me complaining about it too often," he replied, a lie. He hated it when she turned up unannounced. So many things had gone wrong. Like the time she'd startled him and the pixies had gotten loose. Sure, it hadn't been a repeat of the fiasco the school had encountered years ago, as he was certainly not as useless as Lockhart, but it had been bad enough for him. Three of his rarest textbooks had been torn to shreds. He hadn't forgiven her for that. "Then again, I hear manners are the first thing to go when you die."
"Cait, please tell me this left you with the largest headache you've ever had, and I might be less inclined to try stunning you. Or taking it out on the firsties. Whichever proves easiest."
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Cait Sayer
Ghost
Hufflepuff Ghost
I may be dead... but I'm still pretty!
Posts: 29
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Post by Cait Sayer on Oct 20, 2008 20:51:39 GMT 1
Cait wouldn’t disagree if you did say that by punching him in the arm and running away would be the tell-tell sign that she liked him. She was stuck in her seventeen year old self, of course she liked him, hell she’d loved him. She wasn’t going to deny it. They’d been the school’s oddest couple, quite possibly, in the history of the school. Which only led people to believe that he’d pushed her, or done something equally as mean and killed her. She couldn’t understand why they wouldn’t take her word for it. It was her who had died after all.
”House-elves on strike?” she put to him, looking around the room, shrugging away his accusative tone. She smiled to herself; she’d done a good job, better than usual. Shed had more time than usual this time around. It still irked her about that one closed draw. She needed to know what was in it. And wasn’t big enough for her to just stick her head into the desk and see. That would not be cool either.
Cait mocked offence. She had manners. Just not very good ones. They tended to die away a bit when you didn’t get to actually do a whole lot. She found herself getting grouchy easier than before, and she’d come out of her shell more, but that was most likely due to her inability to blend in as a ghost.
Well you should have thought about that before you killed me,” not that he did. She grinned at him, showing him she knew he hadn’t. But she still liked to evoke a reaction from him. What could do that more than pissing about in his normally perfectly arranged room and accusing him of murder. One she spent most of her time demanding he didn’t commit.
”I could tell you that,” she said finally pushing her way through the rest of his desk and levelling with him on the other side, ”But why would I want to give you the satisfaction?” She couldn’t help but cross her arms and smile, somewhat manically at him. Yes, it had been a bigger head ache than she had ever had before, but this was what she had done it for. A Reaction, that was all she ever wanted. Some would classify her as an attention seeker, and really, that was exactly what she was.
”What’s the point in even trying to curse me, when you know it will just go straight through me,” she said, menace in her voice, ”Besides, seeing you torment the first years is quite funny. “
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Post by alsa on Oct 21, 2008 22:34:56 GMT 1
He rolled his eyes at the House Elf comment and put his cup back on the table, wiping his hands to get rid of some imaginary dirt. Apparently she was going to pretend that she hadn't done anything. Well, fine. It wasn't like she could help tidy up anyway, which he would have made her done if she could. He'd just have to do it himself when she finally left him alone for half an hour, else she'd end up pestering him the entire time and just annoy him to bits. ”I rather thought it was something to do with restless spirits being determined to drive me insane, but I suppose a rogue house elf might have a go at my room,” he mused, as he wasn't exactly nice to them. After all, he didn't let them in his quarters, which drove them insane. He just liked to tidy and clean the place himself!
”And it's times like this that I really wish I had,” he muttered in reply, watching her as she walked through his desk to stand beside him, a small part of him amused. Was she staring him down, or just trying to be close? He hoped she didn't decide to walk through him today, that was always such a horrible feeling... ”Truly, it would make me feel a lot better.”
He hm'ed at her reply and turned to sort out the papers on his desk, just to distract himself. He really wasn't in the mood for this and turning up to such a mess in his room had very nearly caused him to flip. He might end up shouting at her, not that it would bother her in the slightest. It might make him feel a bit better, though. ”Because you'd rather my head didn't explode from the stress?” he replied absently.
He sighed. Did she have to sound so annoyed about it? He threatened it often enough and she knew he wouldn't try it unless she really pissed him off because it really wouldn't work. ”Because, dear Caitlyn, it would be worth it if there was even the remotest chance that it would one day work, because at least I'd get a few minutes of peace and quiet in which to try and calm down that one, oh-so-longed for day.” He took a deep breath and shook his head. ”Unfortunately the laws of magic are against me on this one, as much as I hate it, and even I can't change the nature of magic itself.” He nodded. ”It is quite fun, as long as no one else notices. They're so easy to wind up.”
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Cait Sayer
Ghost
Hufflepuff Ghost
I may be dead... but I'm still pretty!
Posts: 29
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Post by Cait Sayer on Oct 21, 2008 23:50:06 GMT 1
Cait looked at the cup with a slight disgust, why would he drink cold tea? She scrunched up her nose slightly and dismissed the thought, the less she thought about the gross factor the better. Knowing fully well he’d want to tidy up the mess without her, she thought about hanging around a little longer, it would piss him off more, and he’d not clean with her there because she’d just mess things up again.
”Who says I’m restless?” she asked, knowing perfectly well what he was talking about. ”Those house-elves are little fuckers sometimes, you know they hate you,” she said, checking her nails, picking out some imaginary dirty from underneath them. Scratching her cheek she smiled at him.
”Well, if it would make you feel better, you can let people believe you did,” she said, her tone turning on him slightly. Running her fingers through her hair, she sighed slightly, she’d spent so long trying to convince people otherwise, it would take three words to make them believe her that it was him. But then he’d get carted off for murdering her, and that wouldn’t be fun for anyone. She wasn’t certain she’d be able to follow. She didn’t know how far she could go without
”But your head exploding would bring such a lightener to my day!” she said, turning back to her upbeat tone, ”In that case, no headache for Caity today! she breezed, laughing at him, running her fingers over the edge of his desk. If he was going to act like an arse, she’d happily be a bitch right back. This was how they worked. Now she just wished she was corporal.
”Who knows, maybe one day, they’ll find a way to make me all corporal, and you can curse me to your hearts content. Though I wonder, if I was corporal, would you curse me or k-“ she stopped herself mid-sentence and laughed to herself, a manic grin plastering on her face, ”There’s a question!” she chuckled again, she wanted to know what he would say to that. It had been thirteen years, and she knew that he’d never looked anywhere else, so would he take her back if given the chance?
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Post by alsa on Oct 30, 2008 22:36:37 GMT 1
To be honest, the only reason Idris drank cold tea was because he knew it wound Cait up. Why, precisely, he'd never understand, as she didn't need to eat any more and so she probably couldn't remember what cold tea tasted like after all these years, but there you go. He waited for her to leave but it appeared she wasn't heeding his words, and he held back a huff of annoyance. She really didn't get it, did she? He put the cup back down on the table and set about trying to tidy up a little bit. He knew she'd probably mess it up again but it was worth giving it a go. He was already starting to get annoyed about the mess, and he could get really foul tempered when his quarters were like this.
He wanted to snark at her, he really did, but he kept himself from rising to the bait and fiddled with the papers instead. ”I can't say I'm entirely fond of them, either,” he replied absently, thinking on the little creatures and how they always ruined his order. Couldn't they just keep their noses out of it for once in their lives? They should be glad he wanted to tidy up after himself, less for them to do! Couldn't they just be like teenagers? It hadn't been that long since they'd gotten their rights, you'd think they'd enjoy them...
”No, it wouldn't make me feel better, in fact it's just that bit worse because I'm getting credit for something I didn't do,” he grumbled, not really meaning it but sometimes wondering if he would have killed her after all this time. If she hadn't become a ghost, would she have grown up? He could only hope so. Or maybe it was that he got worse, rather than her fault. Nothing he ought to be pondering right now, anyway. ”Don't worry, Cait, I'll find a way.”
He pulled out his drawer and dumped some papers in it before closing it, stopping to pull on the one locked drawer in his desk. No, she hadn't managed to open it. Good, he didn't want those bits getting out. That would be embarrassing. He'd written most of it the few weeks after his father's and Cait's deaths, mostly letters to them (though he didn't need to write letters to Cait, did he? But it hadn't been the same, it wasn't Cait, just a fragment left behind to taunt everyone that she was gone) about all sorts of things. He hadn't had the heart to chuck them out. The last thing he needed was for Cait to read the contents, though.
He raised an eyebrow and couldn't stop the small smile that escaped his usually perfect control. He folded his arms and sat on the desk. ”And what was that question going to be?” he asked, knowing full well what she was going to say. It was obvious, anyway. He looked up for a moment, pretending to be thoughtful, before replying. ”Well, for starters I'd cast a silencing charm on you. How many years have you been talking non stop?”
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Cait Sayer
Ghost
Hufflepuff Ghost
I may be dead... but I'm still pretty!
Posts: 29
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Post by Cait Sayer on Oct 31, 2008 0:32:43 GMT 1
Had Cait know that that was the reason he did it, she would have tried her best no to react. On the other hand, at least it meant he was making an effort to annoy her, which in some twisted logic, obviously meant he thought about her when she wasn’t around. Not that she would ever let him forget her. That was why she did everything, every calculated move. It took a lot of brain power to do the things she did, she was hardly about to waste those talents on just anybody.
”Not many people are, but they appear to have taken a particular shine to you. Considering you refuse to let them do their jobs. I mean no wonder they went ape-shit in here. You’re stealing their livelihoods,” she tutted and shook her head, putting her hands on her waist, and looking around at the mess she had created, she smirked. She’d done a better job this time than any other. She was quite pleased with herself. Cait often wondered why she didn’t go through herself. She put her hands through Idris and walls, and desks and everything else, but why not herself. It was quite confusing when you thought about it, but then again, you probably wouldn’t.
Cait was confused, why would it make him more annoyed because he was getting for credit for something he didn’t do, surely that was a good thing? He didn’t have to put in the effort to be blamed for something she was positive he wanted to do now. She could try and kill her again, but everybody knows: you can’t die twice.
As he shuffled his papers away into a draw, albeit without their usual order, she noticed him glance at the one remaining closed draw. He seemed pleased that she hadn’t been able to open it. It only made her want to be able to open it more. He had to have a key, there had to be an easy way in. That or she would just stick her head through and do the easiest thing she could. But where was the challenge in that.
He was smiling, oh god what had she said? He never smiled. Oh, right. Oh he was being smug? Was that it? Sitting on the edge of his desk, smiling at her, being all smug. She could do smug. He wasn’t the only one that could be smug. She just didn’t want to be smug back at his smugness. ”Where would you be without me talking non-stop huh?” she asked him, ignoring his blatant lie. He might have been the grumpiest git this side of Gitdonia, but she could read him like a book. If she was alive tomorrow, the next minute, the reaction would most probably be the same. Nobody could go so long without something, only to be allowed it again and ignore it.
”I don’t talk non-stop,” she eventually added, ”I talk, I plan, I think, I move things, I laugh, I tease, I…” she tried to think of something else, she was struggling, ”I walk through walls! I do stop talking.” and as if to make her point solid, she stopped. Smiled, ear to ear, and crossed her arms across her chest in mirror to him.
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Post by alsa on Nov 14, 2008 17:44:16 GMT 1
There was no twisted logic in any way – Idris did care about her, and he did think about her. The most difficult part was the fact she was dead. Long gone. He couldn't quite get it out of his head that this wasn't Cait, but the imprint left behind by a strong will that didn't want to fade into nothingness. That's all he could believe ghosts were, and that meant his Cait was long gone. But he'd take what he could get, most of the time, and an imprint would have to make do if that's all he could have.
”It's nothing of the sort, and stop trying to blame someone else, you git,” he replied, rolling his eyes. ”We both know full well that this was your doing, and the house elves just get in my way. They wouldn't know the alphabet if it walked up and handed them a sock!” It was true, too. He'd just gotten so annoyed at not being able to find anything (a hard enough job with Cait around anyway) that he'd finally just snapped at them all and forbid them from coming in to his rooms. It was much better that way and besides, he didn't mind cleaning. He too was mildly perplexed about why ghosts didn't manage to go through themselves, but supposed it was because on their level of existence, that was solid. Go figure.
Of course it annoyed him – who wanted to take credit for something like that when they didn't do it? If he was going to be shipped off to jail, a threat that seemed to dangle over his head every single year the rumours continued, then he would rather have killed her and at least had the satisfaction of knowing he'd done it. It was a pride thing. That, and he was a bit fucked up in the head. That's what you get for not having a girlfriend and your last one being a ghost that liked to piss you off.
”I'd never have had to go ask for all those headache potions from the nurse,” he replied, thinking of how uncomfortable he was every time he went down there for another one. Headaches, it seemed, were the bane of his life and he'd had more medicine for them than was probably entirely good for him. ”You talk non stop when you're around me,” he added, or so it seemed. And now she was trying to prove her point. He grinned wider, a slightly mean hint in it. Oh, right, she wanted to play like that then, did she? Fine, they'd see how long she could go without saying a word. He smiled at her for a moment, so pleasant that it felt alien on his face, and proceeded to ignore her while he carried on tidying. He could be silent for as long as was necessary – it was just in his nature. But Cait? He didn't reckon she'd last five minutes.
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