Horse Stables All the great and grand horses of Beauxbatons are housed here in its stables. Not only can you find the large abraxans that carry the carriages at the start and end of each term but you can also find granians, thestrals and aethonans all in their respective areas. |
Home she missed home, she missed the rain. She missed her mum and the way Hogwarts had felt before it had turned deadly…but here, in the stables she felt closer to home. Closer to her mother, to family, even though her sisters were here. |
she'll learn his name just in time for that there trial we have going on, k? :D Quote:
Bernadette had to pause at the end of Story 3/3 so that she could catch her breath before they entered the stinky stables. Frankly, she LOVED telling stories, but also, all this walking and excitement had made her a little breathless. "But I've NEVER even TALKED to the flying horses, sir!" Bernie peeked out from behind his shoulder to see what they were like as they went inside. "They pulled our carriages, right?" Like, how Hogwarts had gotten here and stuff? How did that WORK, exactly? Were physics not really a thing here in the wizarding world? |
zis reply came aftair far too long a wait on your part. veuillez accepter mes excuses Quote:
"Quite ze tales," he nodded politely, rethinking a bit his strategy a bit. And then a thought crossed his mind, one too delicious not to act upon. "Zey do," he smiled proudly as he parted the doors leading stables and continued to lead her towards the abraxans. They passed a few stalls that would appear empty to some, but not this man. "Since you have nevair spoken to a winged horse before, may I also assume zat you have nevair sang to one as well?" |
oui j'accepte les excuses Quote:
She held her head up, proud of herself for not talking back, and still trotting along slightly behind De Notrede Dame. "Ummmmmmmm," the first year began to turn red at his question, like a small vine-ripened, sun-dried tomato which would be perfect in a savoury quiche, "No?" Why was that a question, and why were people here always trying to get her to sing? :music: "No," she sounded more sure now, "I have nevair sung to a winged horse." Or an unwinged one. |
merci ;) Quote:
He took her lack of acknowledgement for the black skeletal bodies in the stalls to either side of them reason enough to conclude that she could not see thestrals yet. A pity and a blessing wrapped in one for her. "Zen ziss ees ze perfect opportunity to try for ze first time," he encouraged with a dashing side smirk. "Do you know ze song Le Vieux MacDonald a une Ferme?" |
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Unfortunately, this first year knew English well enough that she recognized its French cognates in the song he suggested. Old MacDonald had a farm, no? She swallowed the lump in her throat. Oh no, she couldn't sing now. She had just come down with a sudden bout of laryngitis. Bernie hmm-hmmed loudly as if to prove that she had frogs in her throat as well. "Old MacDonald had a farm...." she began in a very monotonous, dry tone, making just the smallest amount of eye contact with Notary Dem as she stated, rather than sang, the song, "E-i-e-i-oh." |
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"Oui, zat is ze one," he nodded as that dashing side smirk grew ever so slightly. "Ze abraxan are rathair fond of zat one. Zey have been troubled and stressed recently. A rouseeng few rounds of zeir favorite tune may encourage more tranquileety een zeir speerits." |
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Bernadette scooted closer to one of the stalls, so she could see her audience she was supposed to be singing to. Again she cleared her throat, really getting to a nice level of phlegm for her song. And one and two and three and four... :music: "OLD MACDONALD HAD A FARM.... E-I-E-I-O!" she shout-sang, building up courage There, one verse down, how many more to go? Was Noderstrame going to join in or what?! |
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"Do not forget ze gestures. Ze abraxan enjoy a good spirited pantomime," he encouraged the first year. "Ze funniair ze sounds ze bettair. Sheep...or dolphins." Give these two rounds justice and truly throw herself into it, perhaps literally when it came to the dolphin's mannerisms, and he would consider putting an end to the musical number. More so for his sake so as not to punish his perfectly sculpted ears. A tone that could rival a fwooper's song, this one had. |
today I googled, "how to write fart sound" so that's in my search history forever Quote:
Maybe she could do ze gestures for the next animal she had to sing about? She took a big breath and nodded at Notredrama. He wanted funny? She could do funny. LOUD and FUNNY, yes, those words did describe Bernadette. Were the abraxans looking less sad yet?! She began singing again, this time thinking of the funniest-looking animal she had ever read about. :music: "OLD MACDONALD HAD A FARM.... E-I-E-I-O!" Bernadette began loudly, "AND ON THAT FARM HE HAD A BLAST-ENDED SKREWT, E-I-E-I-O!" Bernie did pantomime a skrewt by sticking her bum out in a half-squat, then sweeping her arm around to her face like she was sneezing into her elbow. In fact, she was preparing to make the best-ever fart-sounds, which were an obvious characteristic of the Blast-Ended Skrewt. If she could have shot fire out of her bum whilst acting this out, she would have. As it were, the highly accurate sound effects would just have to satisfy Notarydang and his horsies. :music: :music: "With a Ppppprrrrrrrrrrtttt? here, and a PPFPFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFT PFFFFFTFFFFFFFFFT there, here a PPPPPPPPPTTTTTTTTFFfffffffffftttt, there a PPPPPPPPPTTTTTTTTFFfffttttt, everywhere a PPFPFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFT PFFFFFTFFFFFFFFFT, OLD MACDONALD HAD A FARM, E-I-E-I-O!" :music: :music: She may, or may not, have actually tooted during all this squatting, fart noise-making, and singing. Oh well. The noise |
Austin peaked into the horse stable. He was just curious. He liked animals. |
your devotion iz admirable ;) [ a little mention of 2111jen ] Quote:
Mademoiselle Grantham was quite devoted to the role and this brought a pleased Cheshire cat-like smile to his handsome, chiseled features. One would almost expect him to be twisting a thin curly mustache around his index finger. He had thought that a performance as a dolphin in particular would have been sufficient in the department of self inflicted embarrassment, but the first year one-upped him and took it to a place his own imagination had not. Very pleased indeed. Even more so when he caught the head of another young Hogwarts student peeking his head into the barn. It was, truly, almost a shame that there was not a wider audience for Mademoiselle Grantham's spirited performance. ......a little too spirited as it turned out. "Zat will do, Mademoiselle Grantham," the professor interrupted with a raised hand before she could continue on to her next verse, flourishing his hand with a polished roll from the wrist to summon a large wooden barrel from the opposite end of the stables. "You have proven yourself." |
What Austin walked into was...singing? He liked that student. He then noticed the professor and gave the French man a small wave. But he didn't talk. Instead, he quietly left the stable. Okay. Maybe not the best time. |
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