entrancelogs | [OPEN MINGLE] Or perhaps in Slytherin

[OPEN MINGLE] Or perhaps in Slytherin

Who: Slytherin House! (And friends and visitors, of course!)
Where: Slytherin Common Room, Quidditch Pitch, various places around Hogwarts
When: Duration of the event
Rating: G (will edit as necessary)
Summary: Slytherin open log!
The Story:

The Slytherin common room was a long, low underground room with rough stone walls and ceiling, from which round, greenish lamps were hanging on chains. A fire was crackling under an elaborately carved mantelpiece ahead of them, and several Slytherins were silhouetted around it in carved chairs.

The common room has changed, somewhat, from its historical description, thanks to the decorative powers of one Mettaton. Though it still extends beneath the lake and thus retains a greenish, aquatic cast, it's much more brightly lit, its cold, damp atmosphere replaced with dazzling MTT-brand warmth. Even the giant squid, occasionally peering in as it does its rounds of the lake, seems just a shade more glamorous inside such a charming space.

Students - and a ghost or two - can be found nestled within its confines, plotting mischief around the fire, studiously doing their homework (as good students do), or perhaps trading Chocolate Frog trading cards. Though Slytherin is not especially well-known for its wide-open, trusting nature, Slytherins are known for not snitching on each other; if a guest or two were to creep in for a while, then odds are, nobody saw anything.

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[Oh my god that reaction was priceless. Frisk, thankfully, is excellent at maintaining a straight face, so they hold their innocent expression with a perfect, complete control over their blankly curious features.]

Extra credit? For what, advanced Muggle Studies?

[Not to be deterred, Frisk slides over to plunk down beside her, cross-legged.]

You forget Chara and me are the ones who made rule-breaking an art, Gunderson.

[That gets an eyeroll and she turns around, still seated, crossing her arms and tilting her head up.]

I've been breaking rules since before you two came here. You just don't know about it because I don't get caught.

That's your loss.

[Frisk shrugs smugly.]

You might call it "detention." I, for one, call it "free night of no sleep with the best dad in the world who lets us help him find unicorns and stuff." So, you know, you really have to consider who's the winner and who's the loser in that situation.

[Pidge raises an eyebrow slowly.]

I mean, I realize our house has a grand history of nepotism, but that still seems a bit much.

Hey, if the stereotypes are true, it's because they're worth it.

[That's the sad fact of the matter.]

Just ask anyone who's landed detention with him, not just the other Slytherins. They'll tell you how it is. [Because their Dad is the best dad, and he is awesome.]

I'll keep my record clean just the same, thanks. [She rolls her eyes.] Anyway it's not muggle studies. It's astronomy. Sort of.

[Your loss, Gunderson. Frisk's dad is the best ever, and you're missing out.]

So, what? The castle telescopes aren't refined enough for your tastes?

Something like that. [There's a scroll on the ground, a quill dancing over it, controlled somehow by the wires that lead from it to the scanners. Pidge beckons Frisk over and gestures down at the quill.]

Visible light is only part of the spectrum, but try telling wizards we need to look to muggle science to learn more about the sky. So many wizards don't care about anything if it's not magic-related.

[She rolls her eyes. But she's not about to let other peoples' shortsightedness stop her.]

Anyway, this is for reading the full light spectrum. X-Rays, Ultraviolet, Radio, Gamma, all of it. I can scan all the way to the edge of the solar system with this.

[Hmm. Frisk digests her words silently, chewing thoughtfully on the knuckle of one thumb. Muggle science, they know, is just as useful as magic on many counts, and it's a shame that the wizarding world doesn't seem to want to acknowledge that.

Their lidded eyes flicker back over to Pidge, curious.]

And what have you found?

Results are inconclusive. But interesting. [Honestly, they mostly just look like scribbles on her scroll. But she waves her wand and they pop off the page, resolving into what looks like a swirling galaxy.]

[Frisk peers at it for a good few minutes, uncomprehending for all but the most basic of the shapes and formations. Then they glance back at Pidge, expectantly.]

Aaaaaaand? [C'mon, explain yourself!]

I think it's possible that magic may be extraterrestrial in origin.

Like aliens?

[Their tone is skeptical, bordering on amused. What a story, Gunderson! Now tell them what you really think.]

...you're serious, aren't you? [The urge to laugh fades immediately. Laughing someone off takes almost no effort, but taking the time to believe them, while harder, can lead to a much more interesting conversation.]

Dead serious. [She waves her wand and lets the swirling galaxy resolve back into numbers.] Though it may not be aliens in the little green men sense. I haven't done enough research to know much past that there are definite traces of magical energy way further out than there should be.

So what makes you think it's the same as our magic? I mean, different monsters and creatures have different kinds of magic. There's centaur magic, giant magic, goblin magic...

[And why shouldn't alien magic be included in there? Does one have to feed into the other?]

Honestly? I suspect there are less differences between wizard magic and magical creature magic than many wizards would like to admit.

[It's a particularly unpopular view with some of the more snobby pureblooded wizards, but if Pidge cared about pissing people off, she wouldn't bother with all of her experiments. She's pretty sure whatever she finds, people are going to be mad. That doesn't mean it isn't worth doing.]

What's your proof?

[Frisk doesn't sound very put off by the proposition. In fact, it's...nice, they think, to imagine that they're closer to monsters than they might've first imagined.]

Nothing concrete yet. Mostly that I've seen no concrete proof it's different, besides people assuming.

Yeah, but you can't always put something like that out there. You can say there's no proof Santa doesn't exist, but that won't stop people assuming.

[In fact, they're pretty sure he does exist in some form or another, or did, just in a significantly less benevolent form. Maybe as a kind of chupacabra, or other reprehensible creature that scuttles down chimneys to devour children in their beds. The concept of Santa Claus always seemed entirely too unnerving to be wholly innocent.]

I know. That's why I'm up here. If I can get proof, I can publish. Or if I can get proof against, I can move on to exploring other options.

[Makes sense, they guess, even if Gunderson's entire reason for trying in the first place seems to be, essentially, "just because I can." Frisk can respect that.]

Youngest-ever witch to author a paper?

Assuming I find my evidence soon enough, anyway. [She shrugs a shoulder, then points at them, scowling.] And assuming no one stops me, so keep your mouth shut, okay?

[Frisk rolls their eyes, smirking.]

Relax. Rule-breaker solidarity, remember? I can support anything that goes against what people say you should be doing.

Just making sure. [She shrugs, leaning back over her work.] I'll let you know if I get actual proof. [A beat.] When I get actual proof, that is.

[When she gets proof. That's more like it.

Frisk pushes themself to their feet, dusting off their robes in a completely unnecessary flourish of motion.]

I know more than a few people who'd be interested in that once you do.

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[OPEN MINGLE] Or perhaps in Slytherin

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