Activity Introduction
Posted: Thu Jul 04, 2024 2:38 pmJiggling your foot restlessly in the Astronomy tower with a group of classmates preparing for next year who’ve been discussing the likelihood of intelligent life on other planets, you find yourself rolling your eyes and glaring at the floor.
Usually you enjoy meeting to do homework with this group during the fall and spring terms, but you’ve been feeling particularly apathetic lately moving into summer.
Especially once the Ministry of a Magic internship got canceled right on the heels of some strange celestial events, and the consistent lack of motivation you’ve been feeling ever since has you on edge this evening. Everything anyone says or does makes you want to snark out something petty.
Then again, you argue about yourself, that’s end of year for me.
“Who cares if there’s life on other planets?” Someone asks. “They clearly have no interest in coming by ours for a visit, so what’s it to us?”
Are you sure about that? You want to interject, but choose to swallow it back, knowing you won’t be able to keep the tone from giving away your sour mood. No need to spoil the vibe for everyone else.
“That’s very considerate of you,” a voice calmly states from the shadowy corner behind the largest telescope.
Startled, everything slows down around you as sound and motion whoosh to a halt. Your peers are frozen in the middle of their chats, caught up with turning a page, scribbling a quill, or gesturing conversationally.
“And, yes. Aliens do exist. Would you like me to show you?”
Yes, comes to mind involuntarily while jerking your head in the direction of the voice. At first you don’t register the bearded man standing in a black suit and tie.
Who the heck is this guy? You think as he removes a pair of dark glasses.
“Don’t be afraid,” the man in black says, and in a matter of a moment, their form changes.
Their skin iridesces to various shades of azure and powder blue, then the beard disappears while the rest of their hair turns from short and dark brown to a long, brilliant saffron. Three sets of pearlescent, feathery wings unfurl at different levels, expanding out to encompass the being before you. What had been a black suit is replaced by an ocean of dynamically flowing, bright blue robes around their waist.
The most impressive change is the eyes. Where once there were two, presently countless individual ones of all shapes, sizes, and colors—many of which look more animal than human—begin to blink open at you from every exposed part of their body.
Their now smooth face becomes stunningly androgynous, but you’re unable to gaze upon its swirling, fiery essence. Like the naturally protective inclination not to stare at the sun. Instead, you take in their vast array of gently winking eyes.
Baffled into silence, it takes a few more seconds until you can choke out a breathy, awe stricken, “Oh!”
Usually you enjoy meeting to do homework with this group during the fall and spring terms, but you’ve been feeling particularly apathetic lately moving into summer.
Especially once the Ministry of a Magic internship got canceled right on the heels of some strange celestial events, and the consistent lack of motivation you’ve been feeling ever since has you on edge this evening. Everything anyone says or does makes you want to snark out something petty.
Then again, you argue about yourself, that’s end of year for me.
“Who cares if there’s life on other planets?” Someone asks. “They clearly have no interest in coming by ours for a visit, so what’s it to us?”
Are you sure about that? You want to interject, but choose to swallow it back, knowing you won’t be able to keep the tone from giving away your sour mood. No need to spoil the vibe for everyone else.
“That’s very considerate of you,” a voice calmly states from the shadowy corner behind the largest telescope.
Startled, everything slows down around you as sound and motion whoosh to a halt. Your peers are frozen in the middle of their chats, caught up with turning a page, scribbling a quill, or gesturing conversationally.
“And, yes. Aliens do exist. Would you like me to show you?”
Yes, comes to mind involuntarily while jerking your head in the direction of the voice. At first you don’t register the bearded man standing in a black suit and tie.
Who the heck is this guy? You think as he removes a pair of dark glasses.
“Don’t be afraid,” the man in black says, and in a matter of a moment, their form changes.
Their skin iridesces to various shades of azure and powder blue, then the beard disappears while the rest of their hair turns from short and dark brown to a long, brilliant saffron. Three sets of pearlescent, feathery wings unfurl at different levels, expanding out to encompass the being before you. What had been a black suit is replaced by an ocean of dynamically flowing, bright blue robes around their waist.
The most impressive change is the eyes. Where once there were two, presently countless individual ones of all shapes, sizes, and colors—many of which look more animal than human—begin to blink open at you from every exposed part of their body.
Their now smooth face becomes stunningly androgynous, but you’re unable to gaze upon its swirling, fiery essence. Like the naturally protective inclination not to stare at the sun. Instead, you take in their vast array of gently winking eyes.
Baffled into silence, it takes a few more seconds until you can choke out a breathy, awe stricken, “Oh!”