The Courtesan

Corvin Baines || Nineteen || Pureblood 'The Third stage is bound to be different - more challenging, more demanding. '...Sounds exhausting. Let's get ratted instead.' [An RP blog for thedurmstranginstitute]

[roman-elior]

You’re incorrigible. 

Rooming with one..? Hm. I can only imagine how poorly that path of action will reflect on you if you end up on a team with a muggleborn student on it. 

[corvinbaines]

Incorrigible, eh? Now there's a big word. Does that upset you? Intrigue you? Do you want to take me out behind the broomshed and spank me?

In any case, I shall endeavour to ensure that such a situation never arises. But I suppose if it could not be avoided it might prove to be amusing to watch a muggle-born fail the test because of their own inherent ineptitude.

[roman-elior]

On the contrary, they’ve worked to achieve what they have. We haven’t. Not in the slightest. We’d be crippled with out it. They have something to fall back on. I’d like to see you function normally if you were stripped of your magic.

And actually, the phrase “open mind” in no way correlates with “empty head.” An open door does not allude to an empty room. 

[corvinbaines]

Exactly! It's the fact that they have to struggle to overcome every little obstacle which makes their inferiority plain to see. But let's not exaggerate: Wizards and Witches have made great strides and advanced magic to a great degree. We've demonstrated great skill and ingenuity in the application of magic. We were brewing potions and taking control of the world while the muggles were still bashing each other over the head with sharp rocks.

In any case, the point is moot - they're here now, so I suppose I'll have to get used to ignoring them whenever possible. Which is going to be difficult, since someone in administration obviously decided it'd be hilarious to put me in a dorm room with one of them. Just the thought of it makes my skin crawl.

[corvinbaines]

Miscellaneous

Wand-hand: Corvin's dominant hand is his left. As such, he tends to wield his wand with this hand, whilst his staff (when he can be bothered to remove it from his trunk) is typically held in the right. After years of being lectured on wand safety, Corvin keeps his wand in a custom-made dragonskin sheath strapped to his right arm for ease of access.

The First Day of Term: Typically, the first day of term starts with Corvin's trunk being searched for various Dark Arts contraband. This has been a firm fixture of his time at Durmstrang ever since an unfortunate incident with a Cockatrice in his second year.

Sexual Preferences: Whilst Corvin will tell you that he'll shag pretty much anyone (which is true to an extent) he does have a marked preference for the company of other Wizards, over that of Witches.

 He would never, absolutely positively, never be intimate with a non- or half-human, and the thought of being with a muggle or muggle-born is enough to make him retch, but he might be a bit more flexible on that count - provided he were drunk enough, of course.

Life After Durmstrang: Corvin's not entirely sure what he wants to do after graduating. Indeed, he keeps trying to put off the dreaded moment when he will finally have to join the working wizarding world, partly because he wants to learn as much about the Dark Arts as possible; partly because he wants to carry on his carefree, pleasure-seeking ways; and partly because the moment he graduates, his parents will expect him to get engaged to some pureblood heiress and produce a few grandchildren for them - something which Corvin regards as a fate worse than death.

 As for what he'll do for a living, he's leaning towards either teaching the Dark Arts (although given the limited number of placements available, he doesn't hold out much hope of that) or possibly joining the ranks of the Unspeakables studying the Dark Arts in the Ministry (and a recommendation from Durmstrang would go a long way to countering his rather average skills in other areas of magic).

[roman-elior]

As are we with our wands? We rely on magic for everything. Muggles started out with nothing but fire. They’ve advanced rapidly over time. We’ve always had magic at our disposal. 

You know, frankly they would be able to survive with out technology, not “telenolagy” by the way. In fact, a majority of the planet still functions without it. 

I’m no blood traitor. I live in a circus for merlin’s sake. I simply have an open mind, whereas apparently, you do not. 

[corvinbaines]

 Two words: Wandless. Magic. Which, by the way, is innate within wizards and witches. We've always had access to it, because it's part of us. It's nature's way of setting us above the dirt-grubbers.

 Your sort always trots out that little phrase. May I remind you that 'Open Mind' is just another way of saying 'Empty Head'. Merlin, do you muggle apologists ever stop to think about what you say before you say it? It makes you sound quite stupid, you know.

[roman-elior]

I disagree. Muggles are far superior when it comes to technology. I don’t see wizarding kind taking the initiative to build transport to outer space. And that was done back in the seventies. I don’t see wizards crafting weapons of mass destruction to kill hundreds of thousands of people. I don’t see wizards crafting a method of communication that can transmit a message half way across the globe instantaneously. We still use owls for pity’s sake. They’re in no way inferior. I’d like to see you manage in the muggle world without magic. 

[corvinbaines]

...So the fact that they have to rely on 'technomalogical' crutches to get things done, rather than their innate talents, means that they're superior? That's some impressively insane troll logic right there.

 Thankfully I'll never have to attempt such a thing, 'though I'm sure I'd thrive. Muggles are quite stupid, after all, and easily distracted by shiny objects. I'd like to see a muggle last five minutes in our world without their precious 'telenolagy'.

I never took you for a blood traitor, Elior.

[roman-elior]

Wow, case closed. Listen, they’re not inferior in the slightest. They’ve got enough talent to be invited to Durmstrang, and that puts them on the same level as you. 

[corvinbaines]

Did I say they weren't talented? I don't recall ever saying that. But they're obviously inferior.

After all, muggles are inferior to wizards, therefore it stands to reason that muggle-borns are inferior to purebloods. QED.

[roman-elior]

I do think it’s a good thing, yes. Its really just about time that old tradition needs a little change. Honestly there are revolutions going on in the muggle world where people are fighting for acceptance and really it’s about time people here get purist bigotry out of their mind. 

[corvinbaines]

There's that word again.  Look, I've got nothing against muggle-borns, I just don't want them mixing with the likes of us. They are our inferiors after all.

What's next, letting goblins and elves use wands? Let giants run for office?

[roman-elior]

…Are you seriously that much of a bigot?

[corvinbaines]

I prefer to think of it as being a social conservative with great respect for tradition. Or are you telling me that all these muggle-spawn being here is actually a good thing?

[asen-zverev-deactivated20140617]

Another subtle snort echoed from his lips as he opens the jar, eyes squirming at the content, Asen grimaced sighing before he looked back at his ever unwilling companion. 

"But my snark is my charm." Shrugging the smirk sat there on his lips with ease that spoke it has been there before and will be there again. "Our remedies oft in ourselves do lie, which we ascribe to heaven: the fated sky Gives us free scope, only doth backward pull. Our slow designs when we ourselves are dull.” He paused to toss a ginger look to the other, crushing the snake’s skin between his fingers into the brewing potion. “I don’t know. Your hopes and dreams?” Asen joked ignoring the obvious answer, where his face had graced the pages of any number of newspapers, sitting by his father’s side. 

[corvinbaines]

 Corvin quirked an eyebrow, bemused. This entire thing was becoming quite surreal.

 "Are you quoting poetry?" he asked incredulously. "It's far too early for that sort of thing. Or is it?" The day had been such a blur that he wasn't entirely sure what time it was. Absently, he drew his wand from his sleeve and began twiddling it between his fingers, staring intently at the wizard sitting beside him, still trying to place him.

 "...Does that line actually work? Regardless, I'm quite sure I've seen you before." He paused for a moment. "We haven't slept together, have we? It's so hard to keep track."

[asen-zverev-deactivated20140617]

Asen smirked to himself, rolling the sleeves to his elbows. “Ay, lad, if I need to be specific ‘bout boomslang skin, then you might not be at the right class, aye? It’s the one with the snake skin in it, ‘tis green and brown lookin’ mighty disgusting and the third one over there.” The male pointed towards the roll of jars and chuckled again. “Too much fire whiskey?” He inquired tipping the wand to his chin.

[corvinbaines]

  "Not enough Firewhiskey," Corvin groaned and then reached for the jar in question in a put-upon manner, every move requiring immense effort on his part. A fact that Corvin was not afraid to make extremely obvious.

 "And less of the snark, thank you. I might be taking this class, but that doesn't mean I have to actually pay attention. Or y'know, care." He narrowed his eyes as he passed the jar over. "Don't I know you from somewhere?"

[corvinbaines]

 The grounds are looking particularly beautiful today. Shame about all the muggleborns spoiling the view.

[milo-ryan-blog]

say hello || milo & corvin

[milo-ryan-blog]

Listening to the older boy talk was… odd, to say the least.  Corvin was spectacularly ignorant of the way the muggle world worked, and seemed to be proud about that ignorance.  It threw Milo off, especially when he tried to imagine the world his roommate must see when thinking of muggles.  ”It’s actually pretty hygienic, to be honest,” he started.  Corvin must be one of those wizards that used magic for absolutely everything, he mused, before actually cracking a small smile imagining if there actually were leaves and pebbles in the food.  People would be throwing fits everywhere.  ”As for the food, we really don’t have to pick those things out before we eat - we don’t have them in our food.”  

Almost startled by Corvin looking him in the eye, Milo just stared back, eyebrows slightly furrowed in confusion.  How did the other boy grow up and not get at least some exposure to the muggle world (if not by physically interacting with it, then at least through books)?  He blinked, thinking about how to respond to the older wizard without sounding like a smartass about it.  ”Uhm, it’s… it’s not all that different from wizarding society, really.  Except, well, we don’t have magic out there, but…” Milo trailed off, dropping his gaze for a moment.  

The sympathy in Corvin’s voice startled him into looking back up at the other boy, eyebrows still furrowed and mouth slightly parted.  His roommate was a mystery, one moment treating Milo like something not to be touched, the next apparently being sympathetic about his upbringing.  ”It wasn’t…?” he said, pitch rising unintentionally at the end and making the statement sound more like a question than he meant.  And it was true - other than the childhood bullies, growing up as a muggle had been nice. 

[corvinbaines]

 More denials? Sure, like he'd ever believe that sort of pro-muggle propaganda, especially from a self-admitted admitted muggleborn. Corvin knew the truth - his grandfather had told him all about the horrors of the muggle world: the rampant poverty, the endemic disease and widespread crime. He'd seen pictures, too: dilapidated houses, fields afire, and bodies everywhere (and the brutality of those images had been enough to impress upon the eight-year-old Corvin the true savagery inherent in the muggles). Let the muggleborn deny all he wanted - he'd never reel Corvin in with his lies.

 "Hygienic by muggle standards, maybe," Corvin muttered, dismissing the comment about the food as further lies upon lies. If all muggleborns were like this (and Corvin suspected that they were) it was a wonder that they ever managed to breed at all, with all the mistrust there must be for each other.

 "Of course they don't have magic," he snapped. "As if a muggle could ever possess the intellect necessary to perform even the most basic spell-" he stopped short when he remembered the decision he'd made to at least try to be civil to the dirt-grubbers, if it didn't inconvenience him too much. "Present company excepted, of course," he added in a mollifying, if slightly condescending tone of voice.

 "Don't try to downplay it, I'm sure it was horrible. But then that's what you get when you're raised by inferior stock." He chuckled, lounging back onto his bed (although this time quite careful to tug his shirt down to conceal as much skin as possible, lest Milo's muggle lusts drive him into a frenzy).

[corvinbaines]

- YOU UTTER DICKHEAD!

HERE'S AN IDEA: HOW ABOUT YOU STOP SENDING GODRIC CURSED OBJECTS FOR HIS BIRTHDAY?!? DO YOU KNOW HOW EXCITED HE WAS THAT YOU, FOR ONCE, SENT US BOTH A PRESENT!?! HOW CAN YOU BEAR TO LIVE WITH YOURSELF? WHAT EXACTLY GOES THROUGH YOUR MIND WHEN YOU DECIDE TO DO THESE SORTS OF PETTY, VINDICTIVE, SPITEFUL LITTLE PRANKS?!?

THANKS TO YOU, HE SPENT HIS BIRTHDAY IN ST. MUNGO'S, GETTING... WELL YOU KNOW WHAT YOU DID TO HIM. I'M NOT GOING TO DESCRIBE IT HERE SO THAT YOU CAN GET YOUR SICK LITTLE ROCKS OFF!!!

FUCK YOU, CORVIN! IF YOU EVER EVEN THINK ABOUT DOING SOMETHING LIKE THAT AGAIN, I WILL PERSONALLY HEX YOU INTO A QUIVERING PUDDLE OF GOO – NOT THAT ANYONE WILL NOTICE. -

Once he had stopped laughing, Corvin struggled up off the floor and to his feet, his sides aching. Totally ignoring the stares he was getting from those students still lingering over breakfast, he staggered up the length of the Great Hall and out the doors, struggling to suppress the incoming giggling fit he could feel bubbling away at the back of his mind.

Once he stood in the hallway, he could contain himself no longer, collapsing against the wall and giving into the inevitable.

He couldn't wait until Vivian saw what he'd be sending for Easter.

[asen-zverev-deactivated20140617]

"What are you lookin’ at, lad. Pass me that jar of boomslang skin. This potion ain’t going to make itself, aye?"

[corvinbaines]

"...Afraid I'm gonna have to press you for just a little more detail, there. Which jar exactly? And speak slowly, my head feels there's a sodding elf living in it."

[corvinbaines]

 Corvin put down the quill with a self-satisfied sigh, ran a hand through his hair absently, then picked up the parchment to check the letter over.

 Sir,

 Your article 'Muggleborns at Durmstrang are a Good Thing' dated the seventh of this month absolutely disgusted me. Dealing in half-facts and vague feel-good phrases may play well amongst the lower orders, but for those of us who circulate in better company they simply don't cut the fire-seed mustard. I have long been an avid reader of The Daily Prophet, but this latest tactic of pandering to the base has finally convinced me to switch to sole readership of Sanguis Vero, a paper with a far more reasonable writing staff who produce excellent, well thought out and exceptionally well-researched articles of great relevance and interest to the modern witch or wizard.

 Yours,

 Disgusted of Durmstrang

 Nodding in approval, Corvin slipped the letter inside an envelope and addressed it:

 Letters to the Editor

 Diagon Alley

 London

 He'd have to brave the Owlery tomorrow in order to send it off, but for now he felt quite pleased with himself.

 Quite pleased indeed.

[corvinbaines]

 Corvin's wardrobe consists entirely of wizarding clothing, and the finer stuff at that - he absolutely would not be caught dead in muggle apparel. As such, when he's not in his uniform, he can be seen lounging about in various states of undress (inclement weather notwithstanding) in the sort of particularly stylish and form-fitting clothing the young wizarding elite might buy. Or at least the sort their mothers might send the House Elves to buy for them.

 If he's going outside, he will typically don a cloak made from jet-black Jarvey pelts – a gift given to him by his aunt Calpernia on his sixteenth birthday. Whilst he is quite fond of the cloak, it does have a tendency to enrage living Jarveys that see him wearing it, which has resulted in him being attacked by them more than once.

 Corvin is never without his dragonskin wand sheath, which he wears strapped to his right arm – either inside loose-fitting sleeves (such as robes) or on top of tighter fitting clothing. Frequent lectures from his grandfather, and the example of Great-Uncle Eadric, have made sure that he'll never stick his wand inside a pocket – he's quite attached to that particular organ, thank you very much.

 Finally, Corvin wouldn't be Corvin if he didn't have some piece of Dark Arts contraband on his person at all times – whether it's an cloak pin that sets fire to anyone other than the owner who touches it, or a belt that gives a bit of a magical boost to curses and hexes. He tends to cycle through them quite quickly, since they're forever being confiscated and either posted back to his parents, or quietly destroyed in an attempt to prevent scandal.

[corvinbaines]

Brother,

Even though you don't really like me, and I'm still not sure why, I would still like it very much if we could meet and perhaps hash out our diffe-

Corvin made a noise of disgust, crumpled the letter into a small ball and tossed it into the nearby waste-bin. Then, as an afterthought, he took out his wand and set the entire contents of the bin on fire.

When was Godric going to get it through his thick skull that Corvin was absolutely not going to get in contact with him, no matter how many pleading letters he sent.

Fucking Squibs – no better than muggles, really.