<div class="floatleft">(https://i.pinimg.com/736x/11/ec/30/11ec305ad14e9fc040705b1cf3b0285b.jpg)</div><div class="floatright">(https://vignette.wikia.nocookie.net/harrypotter/images/f/f3/DurmstrangCrest.png/revision/latest?cb=20160112161151)</div><table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td><strong>NAME:</strong> Aaren Sandstrom (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=299655.msg14658128#msg14658128)<br/><strong>YEAR:</strong> Fifth<br/><strong>BLOOD STATUS:</strong> Half-blood<br/><strong>WAND:</strong> 12 inch | Redwood | Dragon Heartstring <br/><strong>WEARING:</strong> This outfit, without sunglasses (http://cdn01.cdn.justjaredjr.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/11/gregg-fitness/gregg-sulkin-fitness-inspiration-faking-set-05.jpg)<br/><strong>DATE | TIME:</strong> Saturday, October 26th, 2019 | Night<br/><strong>LOCATION:</strong> Darley Penthouse | Lost<br/><strong>CONTENT:</strong> Open heart, open mind, never know who you'll find...<br/><strong>MOOD MUSIC:</strong> DNCE - Kissing Strangers (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wzZWXrlDj-A)<br/><strong>TAGGING:</strong> Dyani | Konstantin</td></tr></tbody></table><br/><hr/><br/>Aaren was, admittedly, a little looser than when he had first entered the Darley penthouse. Burning wine had a certain effect on him, and that effect tended to take place within a matter of quick moments. That, and, the extra shot of tequila may have been partly to blame, as well. It wasn’t that his wits weren’t entirely about him just yet, but rather that his senses had started to blur. So, when Dyani reluctantly admitted that she wasn’t sure a hug was totally appropriate, Aaren had to take her word on the matter. He was no longer an accurate judge of things like that.<br/><br/>A change of scenery seemed in order, even if it only made for a very minor difference. When he offered to sit and have a chat, Dyani agreed, so he figured he had chosen a more socially acceptable route, this time. Inwardly, he cheered for himself. Maybe he was at the start of holding his liquor a bit better. Settling in, he leaned back against the bench, hoisting up one leg so that his ankle crossed over top of his knee. With the water bottle in hand, he took a much needed sip and cleared his throat, as if to quietly signal to Dyani that she could start them off.<br/><br/>After confessing she wasn’t sure where to start, Aaren screwed the lid back onto his water bottle and twisted a bit, to face her better. He kept from interjecting and let Dyani take her time, considering her words before declaring that she owed him an apology. Aaren smiled softly, hopeful that it was enough to encourage her to continue to carry on. Though, just hearing those words by themselves was like receiving a gift. A gift that Aaren just assumed he would never receive.<br/><br/>Dyani continued, expressing that when she was at Durmstrang, it wasn’t the best of times for her. Aaren nodded. He could relate to that in more ways than one, but knowing what little he did about her background, he was certain that Dyani had been going through much more than he ever had to deal with. To her credit, she explained that that by itself was still not an excuse for her actions. She confessed to being confused and at first, he wondered to what degree she meant. Confusion encompassed so many aspects of a person’s life, after all.<br/><br/>He remained silent, watching her pensively while she explained about her family essentially raising her on the very old fashioned, elitist, pureblood ways. Though this sort of thing was less common than ever before, it was still happening in wizarding homes. Aaren wasn’t surprised by this, though he knew little about her family, there were a few clues that stacked up, to point to the fact that she was raised in affluent wealth and by those who held onto old, blood purity ideals.<br/><br/>Maybe that was why he let her get away with her harassment for so long. He just figured it had to do with a difference in their blood types, that she was too ignorant to understand. Dyani turned her attention onto her skirt, murmuring about not being a good daughter. Aaren shook his head. “For disagreeing with your parents? That doesn’t make you a bad daughter. It makes you an individual.” He leaned slightly closer, his arm hesitating to reach out and touch her. After all, she said it wasn’t appropriate.<br/><br/>Dyani confessed to having a crush on a half-blood boy, and Aaren instinctively leaned away again, enough to maintain a respectful distance. He shook his head even when she remarked about it being taboo in her family, to feel that way for someone who was without pure blood. “The heart wants what it wants. It doesn’t care about blood types.” He easily commented, obviously having thought about this at length before. Not because of his upbringing, but because of others around him at school, who had been brought up in such hatred.<br/><br/>She revealed that her family would have never accepted this half-blood boy that she liked, nor would they have approved of her thinking he was a viable option. As if the heart could pick and choose someone based on credentials and pedigree. Aaren noticed her cheeks had started to flush when she declared that the boy she had liked, became the object of her torment, instead. Aaren felt his brows wrinkle as he started to go through the list of their classmates at Durmstrang, in his head. Just who was it she was talking about? Did she torment other guys, apart from him?<br/><br/>Dyani said she became an awful person through it all, then looked up to him with her shockingly green eyes, peering out from her fringe. Aaren felt his face grow hot as she looked at him so intensely. She asked if it made sense and he opened his mouth, still unsure who it was she had been referring to. He hated to be thick, but in this instance, when talking about something this profound, he was afraid he would need for it to be expressly stated. “Um…” Aaren began, but from the opposite wall, the sound of knuckles on the wall made him turn his attention there.<br/><br/>Konstantin; The epitome of the reason why Aaren never quite felt like he belonged at Durmstrang. No matter how hard he tried, Aaren could never imitate the likes of him. Not that he would ever want to, mind you. He spoke in his usual, venomous tone, apologizing for the interruption, though it was clear that his words were for Dyani and not for Aaren. It reminded him that the two had been an on again, off again, thing for quite some time. Perhaps this was the sort of guy her family wanted for her, expected for her.<br/><br/>What an awful life that would be. No one deserved it.<br/><br/>Konstantin continued to speak, pretending he had manners, as he commented about how it had been so long and he hadn’t had a chance to say hello. Aaren stood from the bench, leaving his water bottle on the side table just beside it, as he addressed Konstantin, who thought he could simply step in and take Dyani away, despite the fact that they were in the middle of a conversation. This was no pissing contest, but it was clear that Konstantin was trying to assert his dominance. He was trying to mark his territory on Dyani, and planned to stamp out Aaren in the process.<br/><br/>“Look at that. You’ve just said it.” Aaren smiled at Konstantin, the sort of smile that read ‘don’t push me.’ He turned to face Dyani, and it hit him in that moment. Maybe this was why she was always so unpleasant. Konstantin’s influence, or direction, or brainwashing. He wouldn’t put it passed the vile guy. Aaren extended his hand for Dyani, offering it for her to take hold of, clearly intending to take her elsewhere.