21 Dec 2020, 02:53
Thinking Out Loud III: Indoor Voices
September 15, 2020
permission to godmod Amadea Campbell granted
Scott Alexander was proud of his summer, which is horribly depressing in itself. You're not supposed to be proud of your summers, not as a kid. A half-decent vacation isn't an accomplishment at that age: two consecutive days anywhere but in school should automatically classify as "the time of your life"... Yet that was the only word he could think of, when trying to understand how he felt about it. Because it hadn't been amazing, had it? And he didn't miss it... but it had turned out one hell of a lot better than it could've, and he was proud of that.
Well, most of all he was proud of managing it all by himself.
Because before the summer, Scott had been terrified of it. And by the beginning (that is, the less-than paradisiacal camping adventure), he'd been certain it would all go downhill from there.
But then, by some absolute miracle, it didn't.
Returning home after the games, Scott had been supposed to spend the majority of the summer in London with his mother. He'd been looking forward to it, especially during the worst of the worst days in the camp... though admittedly still not half as much as his mother had been looking forward to it herself. Despite still working during the days. But alas, it was obvious to everyone from her, to Scott himself, and to each and every portrait staring him down from their places on the hallway walls, that London was not what the boy needed when he came back.
So he got on a ferry, showed his ID and everything, by himself.
Then he found a train that went from Dublin to Belfast, by himself.
And then he got on a bus from Belfast to Ballintoy, again, by himself.
And except for losing the euros he was supposed to use in the Republic, it all went superbly fine. It gave him a new and unfamiliar sense of satisfaction to realise that whoever would've or did predict any failure on his part, would be wrong. Even Ben looked too shocked to see his brother in one piece by the end of his travels to even bother being upset by his arriving at all.
And so he'd felt good, for real, and for the first time in a surprisingly long while. Parts of it he still felt, upon returning to London and then to school again, and some was left on the island. But he still felt different, and it wasn't too bad. He was proud of it.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
Though he was lying in bed, there was no small grandfather clock next to his head at the moment. He'd packed it, of course, he wasn't insane... but it hadn't left the bag yet. Perhaps it would, sometime soon, but he didn't need it now. He had a watch around his wrist instead. And he was looking at it.
The light reflected in its face and hid the roman numerals from his view with each turn of his hand above his head. He had a free double-period at the moment, and had somehow decided that the best way to spend it was by literally watching those very hours pass by on the small piece of machinery, all the while petting a cat on his stomach.
"There are worse ways to spend an afternoon, aren't there Lady?"
He could only imagine she agreed.
"I thought so. It's nice, isn't it? Especially now that it's getting darker out. You don't need to always be doing something particular, do you? And you don't always need to spend your time with another person. Sometimes it's just nice to be alo-"Scott shot up from his position on the bed, sending Lady Madeleine flying for the end of it, and took to standing immediately. Someone from down the stairway was calling his name, and he set to rush for the common room."Hey, Scott!"
"Nice to be alone". That's what he'd been about to say. Sure...
Dashing down the stairs Scott looked for whomever had called for him, only for his eyes to land on someone he didn't know very well at all. It confused him pleasantly for a moment, though the mystery was quickly solved by following the younger boy's pointing hand with his eyes.
"There's someone outside the portrait asking for you. She kept changing her mind though, real nervous, so hurry or she might just dash."
Scott could tell that the boy wasn't in the least happy with the messenger role he'd apparently been appointed, but didn't come up with anything to say to him except for "Oh.. Thanks." before starting to gingerly make his way towards the opening in the wall.
Now, Scott would have rushed to meet this visitor had he not had the time to consider both the word "she", and the fact that the girl couldn't get into the Gryffindor common room.
If this was Ami, then he wouldn't know what to do. No idea. No nothing.
He spun the watch fervently a couple of times around his wrist before pushing the portrait aside all the way, somehow trying to both look taller and hide at the same time.
At first, the Hufflepuff tie nearly gave him a heart attack. But then, seeing as it was tied around the girl's neck properly, it felt like a hug from the heavens.
"Amadea! Oh, I haven't seen you for months! How-"
He stepped over the threshold to try and greet her properly, still embarrassingly overwhelmed with relief, when he stopped himself right in his tracks.
"Wait. What on earth have you done to your-"Scott stayed where he was, face freezing up a bit at the name. Of course. He couldn't be so lucky, could he? No, not under any circumstance... He started to miss the bed now. And Lady, all by herself."It's Ami."
"She.... turned your hair blond?" He tried slowly, already leaning a bit back through the portrait hole and clinging on to the hope that "it's Ami" had simply been the answer to the question he'd been about to ask. Though it seemed little but insignificant now. "Because it looks good, if you ask me. And it's true, you know, we do have more fu-"Scott couldn't help but feel bad. He knew what she was remembering at the moment and wished his feelings on the matter hadn't been so apparent..."No, I- look. I know you two aren't talking right now, and it isn't really my place to step in and say anything because it doesn't involve me..."And about as quickly as it had frozen, his face melted."But nevertheless, you two have your history. And I know you care about each other beyond this argument. So I just felt I needed to tell you that Ami is in the hospital wing right now, and that she'd most likely appreciate it if you paid her a visit despite it all."
"She's what?"
Before she'd even started talking again, a million images of the redheaded girl had already flashed through Scott's head. The old ones, the best ones, the bad ones, and even the ones they'd only imagined before, back when they were both planning this very summer together. But at those words, the images had stopped. His new and improved mind didn't seem too inclined to imagine that.
Far too actual.
"The hospital wing?"
Even though the question must've been directed at the girl at least in its early stages of development, Scott couldn't see Amadea anymore. Looking down, he could instead confirm that his feet were moving. And looking up, Scott realised he was passing classroom after classroom and stairwell after stairwell in what felt like seconds. Though he wasn't running. In fact, he couldn't have told you exactly what it was he was doing until it all stopped spinning for him outside the large oaken door.
"Oh. Right."
He'd been here before. Had it felt the same? Scott could barely remember. Probably not. He'd been scared then, he thought... Wasn't used to seeing most anybody hurt. Was he used to it now? Scott didn't think so either. He thought maybe he was just scared of seeing her altogether, but if that was the case then why in the world was he there in the first place? And had he just left Amadea without a word? Maybe he'd said goodbye to her. He couldn't remember.
"Right."
It was just like his body to suddenly decide it's time to return the control to him once they've reached the part that's actually difficult, wasn't it? Though he immediately regretted thinking that, since it appeared to trigger what must've been his mind's last and meanest attempts at pushing him still: the images returned to him. Horrible ones, this time. Not real at all, or at least he prayed they weren't.
They were despicable images. Terrifying images.
The kinds of images that make your fingers itch enough to stretch around a brass doorknob, turn it, and for your feet to step inside a long and stone-floored room without so much as a warning.
Last edited by Scott Alexander on 1 Jan 2021, 01:14, edited 2 times in total.
The biggest thing you can say is 'elephant'
Stamina: 10 | Evasion: 7 | Strength: 11 | Wisdom: 8 | Arcane Power: 6 | Accuracy: 8
29 Dec 2020, 05:42
Thinking Out Loud III: Indoor Voices
15 minutes. That's all it had taken for things to go horribly wrong.
14 hours. That's how long she'd spent in here.
And she'd spent the last 13 minutes struggling to stay focused on the tiny print in her textbook lying open in her lap, while Leo had been furiously batting at an unusually large speck of dust for the past 12 seconds. At least it wasn't a mouse, right?
A plate of 11 untouched cookies sat on the table by her bed, along with a vase of 10 wilting sunflowers that she'd half-heartedly conjured in an effort to make herself feel better about the cookies. When would people start to remember that she couldn't actually eat normal cookies?
She'd spent the first 9 hours completely unconscious; in fact, she wasn't quite sure just who had brought her here. Probably Amadea or Cecily... or maybe even Xailah. Xailah seemed like someone who had a conscience. Maybe she had helped them, even if Cecily's Quidditch-borne muscles would've been, for the most part, fine with carrying her limp body up to the Hospital Wing.
Ami shifted slightly in her bed, wincing as her 8 broken ribs still ached from the impact of being flung against the wall. Who knew that humans had so many ribs in their bodies? She certainly didn't. But she'd never broken her ribs before, at least not to her knowledge. Her knee had been returned to normal after Eris had stomped it in, but other than that, most of her injuries had been scratches and scrapes, not internal issues.
It had taken her 7 tries to undo the lid to her inkwell, which was probably one of the most embarrassing things to ever happen to her. Could the great and mighty Ami Procoppio not even open a simple inkwell anymore? Her trembling fingers managing to scratch out 6 whole words on her blank ream of parchment in her lap before snapping her quill in half out of frustration.
She could see at least 5 other people, silhouettes, through the drawn curtain around her bed, whether they were pacing around or lying as still as herself in an identical bed. Considering that they were at Hogwarts, of all places, the Hospital Wing seemed relatively quiet, which was rather surprising. She wondered if any of the silhouettes outside her little cloth coffin were in as much pain her, despite all of the potions and remedies she'd been given to help with the excruciating agony she was in. Drawing another shuddering breath, Ami gingerly shifted once more so she was lying down again, staring solemnly at the ceiling with her fingers interlaced over her stomach.
Well, there was nothing else to really do in the Hospital Wing. It was either sleep, do schoolwork, or think. So she thought. Reflected, actually.
4 punches. At least 4 punches- she could clearly remember 4 solid hits before everything faded into blind fury. She couldn't really remember much else outside of those 4 punches. She didn't really like the monster that had erupted from her last night, the pure, unadulterated rage that fueled her merciless destruction. It was a demon that was growing increasingly harder for her to control, even if it certainly served its purpose at times. She couldn't even remember what had warranted such a reaction from her anymore. All she could remember was the anger... and the fear.
But at least that nagging voice in the back of her head seemed to be gone, for the most part. The one that had been tagging along since the Blossom Ball last spring, trailing behind her all throughout her summer, even having the audacity to wrap its cold, unforgiving grip around her mind these first few weeks of school... But apparently, having all the air knocked out of you was also a good way to knock some unwanted voices out of your head.
3 spells. That was all it took for her to be rendered completely useless. That was it. Honestly, it was a little embarrassing, although those 3 spells had been cast by 3 rather powerful witches, so maybe it wasn't that big of a deal. 3 spells had her spinning into complete and utter unconsciousness, leaving her friends behind to fend for themselves. She really couldn't remember ever feeling as helpless as she did in those final moments before everything faded to black, as she lay as limp as a rag doll, slumped against the wall.
Well...
There was that other time...
To her mild disappointment, only 2 people had come to visit her so far. Amadea and Cecily, the ones who had been by her side last night, and presumably the ones who had dragged her corpse to the Hospital Wing, were the only 2 who had dropped by to check in on her. It was a little underwhelming, to be honest. Maybe she had fewer friends than she'd thought. Or maybe this whole thing had been hushed up? It certainly didn't reflect well on the school, having students running rampant and trying to kill one another, did it?
But still, there was 1 person that she'd thought that maybe, just maybe, he would drop by to check on her. After all, he'd been the 1 person to do so three years ago. And she needed him now just as badly as she'd needed him then, but she'd pushed him away in a moment of panic. So now that she needed him here more than ever, he was nowhere to be found.
Sighing, Ami shifted her head bit by bit until she could sort of see the door, just in time to see it creak open. A tall figure. A figure she recognized instantly even if she didn't want to. A figure who was learning to stand a little taller, whose shoulders were getting a little broader, who was finally starting to hold himself with a self-confidence that was all too well-deserved. Sighing again, she shifted her head back to her open-casket viewing pose, keeping her gaze fixed on the ceiling, even as she could feel a tear start to trickle down her temple.
He came. He actually came.
Sooner or later, she figured that he'd make his way over here. And somehow, she was going to have to face the one person she truly loved more than anyone else on this planet. The person she had pushed away, the person she hadn't stopped pushing away. Or maybe even worse, he would leave. Right then and there. Just... turn on his heel and walk right out of there.
She should say something.
She had to say something.
Clearing her throat, Ami winced as she could feel the pain of air passing sharply through her lungs. Was that a sign to shut up? To just... let him be, and see if he came over? No, she couldn't be silly. He was so close, yet so far away, and she refused to let him slip away again. Swallowing her pride, literally, she called out, "Scott?"
Oh crap. Oh crap. Crap crap crap. Now what? Why had she thought this was a good idea? This was not, in fact, a good idea, and she was regretting it very much. Maybe she should've just let him go. That was something people did, right? If you love me, let me go? If you love them, set them free? Something like that? But it was too late now- he had definitely heard her at this point, and it would be strange if she didn't say anything else, right?
Taking a deep breath, her voice soft and almost pleading, she called out, "Please... will you stay?"
14 hours. That's how long she'd spent in here.
And she'd spent the last 13 minutes struggling to stay focused on the tiny print in her textbook lying open in her lap, while Leo had been furiously batting at an unusually large speck of dust for the past 12 seconds. At least it wasn't a mouse, right?
A plate of 11 untouched cookies sat on the table by her bed, along with a vase of 10 wilting sunflowers that she'd half-heartedly conjured in an effort to make herself feel better about the cookies. When would people start to remember that she couldn't actually eat normal cookies?
She'd spent the first 9 hours completely unconscious; in fact, she wasn't quite sure just who had brought her here. Probably Amadea or Cecily... or maybe even Xailah. Xailah seemed like someone who had a conscience. Maybe she had helped them, even if Cecily's Quidditch-borne muscles would've been, for the most part, fine with carrying her limp body up to the Hospital Wing.
Ami shifted slightly in her bed, wincing as her 8 broken ribs still ached from the impact of being flung against the wall. Who knew that humans had so many ribs in their bodies? She certainly didn't. But she'd never broken her ribs before, at least not to her knowledge. Her knee had been returned to normal after Eris had stomped it in, but other than that, most of her injuries had been scratches and scrapes, not internal issues.
It had taken her 7 tries to undo the lid to her inkwell, which was probably one of the most embarrassing things to ever happen to her. Could the great and mighty Ami Procoppio not even open a simple inkwell anymore? Her trembling fingers managing to scratch out 6 whole words on her blank ream of parchment in her lap before snapping her quill in half out of frustration.
She could see at least 5 other people, silhouettes, through the drawn curtain around her bed, whether they were pacing around or lying as still as herself in an identical bed. Considering that they were at Hogwarts, of all places, the Hospital Wing seemed relatively quiet, which was rather surprising. She wondered if any of the silhouettes outside her little cloth coffin were in as much pain her, despite all of the potions and remedies she'd been given to help with the excruciating agony she was in. Drawing another shuddering breath, Ami gingerly shifted once more so she was lying down again, staring solemnly at the ceiling with her fingers interlaced over her stomach.
Well, there was nothing else to really do in the Hospital Wing. It was either sleep, do schoolwork, or think. So she thought. Reflected, actually.
4 punches. At least 4 punches- she could clearly remember 4 solid hits before everything faded into blind fury. She couldn't really remember much else outside of those 4 punches. She didn't really like the monster that had erupted from her last night, the pure, unadulterated rage that fueled her merciless destruction. It was a demon that was growing increasingly harder for her to control, even if it certainly served its purpose at times. She couldn't even remember what had warranted such a reaction from her anymore. All she could remember was the anger... and the fear.
But at least that nagging voice in the back of her head seemed to be gone, for the most part. The one that had been tagging along since the Blossom Ball last spring, trailing behind her all throughout her summer, even having the audacity to wrap its cold, unforgiving grip around her mind these first few weeks of school... But apparently, having all the air knocked out of you was also a good way to knock some unwanted voices out of your head.
3 spells. That was all it took for her to be rendered completely useless. That was it. Honestly, it was a little embarrassing, although those 3 spells had been cast by 3 rather powerful witches, so maybe it wasn't that big of a deal. 3 spells had her spinning into complete and utter unconsciousness, leaving her friends behind to fend for themselves. She really couldn't remember ever feeling as helpless as she did in those final moments before everything faded to black, as she lay as limp as a rag doll, slumped against the wall.
Well...
There was that other time...
To her mild disappointment, only 2 people had come to visit her so far. Amadea and Cecily, the ones who had been by her side last night, and presumably the ones who had dragged her corpse to the Hospital Wing, were the only 2 who had dropped by to check in on her. It was a little underwhelming, to be honest. Maybe she had fewer friends than she'd thought. Or maybe this whole thing had been hushed up? It certainly didn't reflect well on the school, having students running rampant and trying to kill one another, did it?
But still, there was 1 person that she'd thought that maybe, just maybe, he would drop by to check on her. After all, he'd been the 1 person to do so three years ago. And she needed him now just as badly as she'd needed him then, but she'd pushed him away in a moment of panic. So now that she needed him here more than ever, he was nowhere to be found.
Sighing, Ami shifted her head bit by bit until she could sort of see the door, just in time to see it creak open. A tall figure. A figure she recognized instantly even if she didn't want to. A figure who was learning to stand a little taller, whose shoulders were getting a little broader, who was finally starting to hold himself with a self-confidence that was all too well-deserved. Sighing again, she shifted her head back to her open-casket viewing pose, keeping her gaze fixed on the ceiling, even as she could feel a tear start to trickle down her temple.
He came. He actually came.
Sooner or later, she figured that he'd make his way over here. And somehow, she was going to have to face the one person she truly loved more than anyone else on this planet. The person she had pushed away, the person she hadn't stopped pushing away. Or maybe even worse, he would leave. Right then and there. Just... turn on his heel and walk right out of there.
She should say something.
She had to say something.
Clearing her throat, Ami winced as she could feel the pain of air passing sharply through her lungs. Was that a sign to shut up? To just... let him be, and see if he came over? No, she couldn't be silly. He was so close, yet so far away, and she refused to let him slip away again. Swallowing her pride, literally, she called out, "Scott?"
Oh crap. Oh crap. Crap crap crap. Now what? Why had she thought this was a good idea? This was not, in fact, a good idea, and she was regretting it very much. Maybe she should've just let him go. That was something people did, right? If you love me, let me go? If you love them, set them free? Something like that? But it was too late now- he had definitely heard her at this point, and it would be strange if she didn't say anything else, right?
Taking a deep breath, her voice soft and almost pleading, she called out, "Please... will you stay?"
According to all known laws of aviation, there is no way a bee should be able to fly.
stamina: 7 | evasion: 15 | strength: 21 | wisdom: 6 | arcane power: 3 | accuracy: 25
martial artist | spell spread | animagus
stamina: 7 | evasion: 15 | strength: 21 | wisdom: 6 | arcane power: 3 | accuracy: 25
martial artist | spell spread | animagus
31 Dec 2020, 00:18
Thinking Out Loud III: Indoor Voices
The realisation, which had struck him as soon as the oak doors had flung open to reveal the sparsely crowded room, that he wouldn't even be alone with Ami this time, hit the boy like a cold shower by his first step inside. It wasn't surprising, of course it wasn't, but to the hurried mind it was a horrific thought all the same... The invisible and intransigent force that had pushed, dragged and tricked him there disappeared the second the sound of his shoes sent a low echo through the chamber. Now they were glued to the spot. Fantastic.
A few heads had turned his way upon his entering, but he didn't recognise them immediately and so deemed them completely uninteresting at this moment in time. He still met their gaze, and nodded politely as though running on autopilot, but didn't register a single feature before him. Did he nod to a man, or to a woman? An adult, or a student like himself? Who was lying on the bed they were stood next to? All of them, things he'd have taken incredible interest in on any other day. None of them, things he could have told you should you have threatened him.
All of his genuine attention was instead directed only at the one bed currently veiled from his view. Surrounded by a clinically white curtain, it felt as though it was hiding from him.... Cowering. Which in itself felt silly, since he couldn't very well imagine it was much more afraid of him than he was of it. It was a man vs. spider situation, and he wondered wether Ami knew that.
More so, he wondered wether or not she knew he was there at all. Wondered, because of the simple and self-preservatory reason that it could still mean he had the option to opt out. But for some reason, that thought didn't sit right with him at all. The curtain, the horrible white tent that had shown him nothing but a passive hostility from the very moment he entered the room, looked now as though it was judging him for suddenly wanting to leave. The audacity...
But still, the message had been received, and the message had resonated. As is often the case with curtains.
And the door closed behind him.
Another echo. An instant compromise to his position on the field, but it was too late to care about that now. As was made evident by the tent suddenly calling out to him:
Scott?
He could do little but imagine that the bewildering familiarity that shot through him like a flash at the sound of his own name, would feel equal to that of a soldier hearing someone from the opposite trench yell out ”happy birthday!” out of the blue, after not having celebrated it himself for three years.
She was the only one he knew that pronounced it like that. As an eleven-year-old, he'd been very confused as to where she'd gotten the A from... Of course, now he knew better. The A came from the new world.
It wasn't until he'd let her meagre voice sink in, that he realised that the flash had warmed him, if nothing else. Although it was a pained sound, it wasn't painful to hear. Although it reminded him more of the last time she'd been stuck in here, than any of the times she'd said his name whilst dying of laughter, it was a happy memory still. And he hadn't heard it in so long.
Please stay.
The question, how can she know it's me? didn't even occur to him. After all, he'd known it was her without catching the shortest glimpse of her body, and before hearing her voice. But the question still got answered: when he started to walk towards the bed, he suddenly saw the first strands of fiery red hair against a white pillow, through a gap between the curtains.
A flaw in the defence. A crack in the fortress.
As he was walking, Scott started to curse that invisible force again, started shaming himself for losing control. Except, when he reached for the fabric finally, he came upon the second realisation within these last 30 seconds:
There was no invisible force. No intransigent power fighting against his own will and consciousness. He'd run there. He'd opened the door. He'd arrived at her bedside. That was him. The confusion had arisen only the moment he realised he was doing something despite being scared. But that's not losing your mind, that's bravery. What the hell was the golden beast embroidered on his chest for, if not for this? He'd always dismissed the idea of bravery being synonymous with recklessness or violence. This is what he'd always advocated for in their stead.
So what was he waiting for?
Scott pulled aside the curtain, for his green eyes to slowly fall upon what he tried to decide was either the most colourful or colourless sight of his life.
The bright red of her hair, the deep greens of the textbooks, and the overwhelming yellows of the flowers by her side. Never had he seen anything greyer.
All he did for a while was look at her. He hadn't pulled the fabric aside completely yet, and so stood there with his face half concealed behind it. Whether he looked like a shy little boy hiding behind his mother's skirt, or like an early 20th century burlesque dancer about to start his number, was up to her. He didn't care what he looked like, she looked awful.
Please stay. That's what she had said, those were the words that had pulled him there. When you think about it, it wasn't a very Ami sentence in itself... but looking at her now, it didn't seem at all out of character. He realised immediately that he was looking right at someone who'd just finished being very brave too.
"Well. Why not? Come all this way, and all that..."
His voice was monotonous, or as much so as an Irish accent will allow, and dark. But he let his words guide his actions, and closed the tent behind him as he stepped around her bed.
"Can I sit?"
There was no chair around (which Scott tried to stop himself from reading as a sign of few to no visits), and so he hoped that Ami realised he meant her bed. He even nodded to the spot next to her feet, for extra clarification.
Why was he being so careful? Well, it was just like last time, when he'd felt as though a single breath would be enough to break her for real. Except this time there was this lingering feeling, the one-summer-old idea, that he should wish that for her. That only made him all the more conscious of his actions: the reminder that he wasn't visiting a friend this time...
Scott sat down slowly, and allowed for his eyes to leave her hair and examine the rest of her. Something clammed at his heart at the sight of bandages, scratches, and familiar bottles on the bedside table. As the brother of a quidditch player you learn to recognise every bruise remedy or painkiller there is, by much more than the label. All of them were empty, of course. There's no leaving full bottles around unsupervised children.
Scott began tugging at the end of his sleeve in the nervous silence, then stopped himself and placed his palms on the sheet.
"Amadea told me you were down here..." He said eventually, though still speaking as though he was conversing with the air. "She's a good friend. A real good friend. You should be happy you have her."
Then, with a deep breath, Scott twisted his torso to face her properly and gripped at the footboard gently with one of his hands.
"Are you in a lot of pain still?" He asked, not willing to bet a single galleon on what in the world he was referring to. Because had she asked him (he who wore no bandages, who had no bruises and no scars) the same question, then he would've answered yes.
The biggest thing you can say is 'elephant'
Stamina: 10 | Evasion: 7 | Strength: 11 | Wisdom: 8 | Arcane Power: 6 | Accuracy: 8
9 Jan 2021, 20:55
Thinking Out Loud III: Indoor Voices
She could hear Scott's footsteps drawing nearer, as sure and steady as ever. She could see his silhouette grow larger and she breathed a sigh of relief.
He's not leaving.
He will.
But right now, he's not, and right now is what matters.
Ami nearly broke her neck craning it to take a gander at Scott. With most of his body still hidden behind the curtain, he reminded her of that one kid at their first performance on a big stage who would always stick their head out from behind the big, velvet curtain to smile at the audience, before the performance even started. And just like that kid behind the curtain, she could feel his gaze taking in everything, from the mess that was on her nightstand to her body lying on the bed, like a corpse in a coffin or a cadaver on a coroner's table.
Why did he look at her like that? She wasn't some fragile porcelain doll. She was strong.
Right?
Well, maybe not right now...
She smiled weakly at Scott as he seemed to be gathering his thoughts, before exhaling as carefully as she could without drawing attention to herself or causing any more pain.
Why wouldn't he say anything? Was she expected to blather on the whole time? On any normal occasion, maybe before the whole Blossom Ball Debacle, she would've been able to.
But at the bottom of that hole was a sieve. Because no matter how many good memories she'd make or fun times she'd have with Amadea, or Cecily, or anyone else in the whole wide world, there was no way they could replace was Scott meant to her.
And Amadea certainly deserved better than whatever it was she had to offer. Ami wasn't completely daft- she knew that despite how awesome she was (or at least pretended to be), she hadn't been exactly the best best friend she could've been to her. Scott was right- Amadea was a really good friend. One of the best friends someone could ever have the good fortune of having. But a part of her knew... well, there simply was no replacing Scott Abraham Alexander.
Was she really trying to joke around right now? The half-hearted smile slipped from her face as she finally looked at Scott. Specifically, at his ear, so his eyes didn't remind her of every single time they stared into her soul as he asked her to pass the jelly, and so his hair wouldn't remind her of just how fussy he was about getting just the right amount of floof, and she certainly couldn't look at his mouth for fear of being reminded of that time he had yelled at her to shut up and then immediately hugged her for five minutes afterward. So she stared at his ear. There was absolutely nothing remarkable about his ear, although it did remind her of what a good listener he had always been, and what a bad one she still was...
No. There was absolutely nothing remarkable about his ear.
"It didn't hurt at first," she said quietly, her words directed at the ear. "And then it hurt so much. Like... like this pressure, this force, squeezing and pulling me. And then it was nothing. Just... nothing. I couldn't feel anything, or see anything. It was so dark and lonely, it was suffocating."
Still maintaining eye contact with his ear, she nodded towards the bottle on the table. "Those helped, though."
Taking a deep breath, her chest protesting, she finally asked the question she'd wanted to since Scott had stepped foot in the room. No, since she'd recognized his blond pompadour at summer camp. There was nothing left to lose, right? She was literally as vulnerable as she was ever going to get, and if Scott wanted to trample on her before leaving, he would have more than ample opportunity to do so. But it didn't hurt to at least ask, right? Because she knew that the Scott she'd last remembered would probably appreciate her question- it was polite, and it was something he would've asked if he were in her place.
"How's Gretchen?"
He's not leaving.
He will.
But right now, he's not, and right now is what matters.
Ami nearly broke her neck craning it to take a gander at Scott. With most of his body still hidden behind the curtain, he reminded her of that one kid at their first performance on a big stage who would always stick their head out from behind the big, velvet curtain to smile at the audience, before the performance even started. And just like that kid behind the curtain, she could feel his gaze taking in everything, from the mess that was on her nightstand to her body lying on the bed, like a corpse in a coffin or a cadaver on a coroner's table.
"Yes," she said immediately, nodding to the best of her ability even as Scott gestured to the cot and sat down. "Yes, yes of course," she said, her breathing hitching as she shifted her legs to the side just a bit so he wouldn't accidently, god forbid, actually touch her feet. There would've been a time when Scott probably would've just crawled into bed with her and sang lullabies while she complained about the smell of tea in his breath, but that was a time long gone. They were different people now, and they'd both grown in their on respective ways. The past was in the past, and it certainly wouldn't do her any good to reminisce; all that would bring her was pain.Well. Why not? Come all this way, and all that... Can I sit?
Why did he look at her like that? She wasn't some fragile porcelain doll. She was strong.
Right?
Well, maybe not right now...
She smiled weakly at Scott as he seemed to be gathering his thoughts, before exhaling as carefully as she could without drawing attention to herself or causing any more pain.
Why wouldn't he say anything? Was she expected to blather on the whole time? On any normal occasion, maybe before the whole Blossom Ball Debacle, she would've been able to.
Her watery smile slid off her face as she glanced to the side, towards the ground. Or maybe it was towards the flowers? Or was it upwards, towards the ceiling? Anywhere but at Scott. Why did he have to bring her actual friends up? Or, really... it was his replacement, right? She hadn't really spent as much time with anyone else, save maybe Cecily. Besides, she shouldn't even be sad, right? She had replaced him. She had filled the gaping hole in her heart when she had pushed him away and burned their bridges with someone who deserved it. With someone who had been there since the very beginning.Amadea told me you were down here... She's a good friend. A real good friend. You should be happy you have her.
But at the bottom of that hole was a sieve. Because no matter how many good memories she'd make or fun times she'd have with Amadea, or Cecily, or anyone else in the whole wide world, there was no way they could replace was Scott meant to her.
And Amadea certainly deserved better than whatever it was she had to offer. Ami wasn't completely daft- she knew that despite how awesome she was (or at least pretended to be), she hadn't been exactly the best best friend she could've been to her. Scott was right- Amadea was a really good friend. One of the best friends someone could ever have the good fortune of having. But a part of her knew... well, there simply was no replacing Scott Abraham Alexander.
"Yes. No. Uh... sure." Scott may have been thinking about all the emotional and mental trauma from their fight and whatever may have happened to her, but Ami certainly didn't think about things on such a metaphorical level. "It... hurts," she admitted, feeling, for some reason, uncomfortable with the thought that she might even be able to feel pain on such a bone-shattering level as this. "I guess you just haven't lived until you've had your ribs snapped. Thank god I've got that crossed off my bucket list."Are you in a lot of pain still?
Was she really trying to joke around right now? The half-hearted smile slipped from her face as she finally looked at Scott. Specifically, at his ear, so his eyes didn't remind her of every single time they stared into her soul as he asked her to pass the jelly, and so his hair wouldn't remind her of just how fussy he was about getting just the right amount of floof, and she certainly couldn't look at his mouth for fear of being reminded of that time he had yelled at her to shut up and then immediately hugged her for five minutes afterward. So she stared at his ear. There was absolutely nothing remarkable about his ear, although it did remind her of what a good listener he had always been, and what a bad one she still was...
No. There was absolutely nothing remarkable about his ear.
"It didn't hurt at first," she said quietly, her words directed at the ear. "And then it hurt so much. Like... like this pressure, this force, squeezing and pulling me. And then it was nothing. Just... nothing. I couldn't feel anything, or see anything. It was so dark and lonely, it was suffocating."
Still maintaining eye contact with his ear, she nodded towards the bottle on the table. "Those helped, though."
Taking a deep breath, her chest protesting, she finally asked the question she'd wanted to since Scott had stepped foot in the room. No, since she'd recognized his blond pompadour at summer camp. There was nothing left to lose, right? She was literally as vulnerable as she was ever going to get, and if Scott wanted to trample on her before leaving, he would have more than ample opportunity to do so. But it didn't hurt to at least ask, right? Because she knew that the Scott she'd last remembered would probably appreciate her question- it was polite, and it was something he would've asked if he were in her place.
"How's Gretchen?"
According to all known laws of aviation, there is no way a bee should be able to fly.
stamina: 7 | evasion: 15 | strength: 21 | wisdom: 6 | arcane power: 3 | accuracy: 25
martial artist | spell spread | animagus
stamina: 7 | evasion: 15 | strength: 21 | wisdom: 6 | arcane power: 3 | accuracy: 25
martial artist | spell spread | animagus
23 Jan 2021, 21:38
Thinking Out Loud III: Indoor Voices
Scott wasn't sure if that was the answer he'd been dreading, or the one he'd been hoping for. Because now, facing and seeing her properly for the first time in months, it was as if a thousand of previously locked away emotions washed over him all at once. It wasn't displayed anywhere in his face, but he could feel his grip on the board of her bed tighten slightly. Why had he gone here, again? To the hospital wing, sure, not even in his most bitter state of mind could he deny the need he'd felt to make sure she was alright... But he'd heard her speak as soon as he entered, shouldn't that have been enough? And he could see her now, shifting about, obviously in pain but not incapacitated. She was alright.Yes. No. Uh... sure. It hurts.
I guess you just haven't lived until you've had your ribs snapped. Thank god I've got that crossed off my bucket list.
"I've never broken a rib." He muttered at her, trying to keep his voice as inexpressive as it had been before. Though it was harder now, as his emotions were catching up to him. He must've really run fast... "Where would that leave me?" He wasn't asking her. In fact he directed the question so much to the headboard next to her that he hoped she'd realise it'd be unwise to respond.
He couldn't deny the sour aftertaste that the harsh words left in his mouth, though, like there was something severely off with the syllables. But he also couldn't bring himself to regret them.
It didn't hurt at first, and then it hurt so much. Like... like this pressure, this force, squeezing and pulling me. And then it was nothing. Just... nothing. I couldn't feel anything, or see anything. It was so dark and lonely, it was suffocating.
Those helped, though.
"Worst part must be how absolutely none of it was even partly your fault..." He said, matter-of factly.
Again, the conflict. It was such a horrific thing she was explaining to him... Part of the boy wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around the redhead, beg her to reveal every detail about what happened to her, and then pull away in pantomimed horror as she yelps in sudden pain from the gesture, as had always been the scene when she was hurt. But another part, one of a thousand others, wanted to absolutely scream at her for taking the time to describe her injury with such expression, when she couldn't even bother to look him in the eyes.
Scott jerked his busy head a bit at this, eyes flickering with a hint of revealed uncertainty. That was out of the blue... Though he did suppose it to be true, that asking Scott Alexander how his mother was doing was the equivalent of asking just about anybody else whether their heart felt at peace.How's Gretchen?
"She's fine." He said, backing away from her slightly and leaning against the footboard.
Scott imagined his mother's face back at the docks. The one he'd spotted from the small ferry window that she'd appeared unable to find with her wandering gaze.
She'd had two weeks off this year.
"Working. Writing. Reading. You know the play."
Scott closed his eyes momentarily. Was that why she'd asked him to stay here? To tell him of all the pain she was in, and then plant miserable images in his head? Scott wondered how quickly one could get so bored with the hospital wing.
But then he opened them again, determined not to let this whole thing be just another dirty look from across a classroom.
"But never you mind it." He sighed. "Never you mind any of them. Didn't ever go well before... Why did you ask me to stay? Do you need me to get you something? More of those?"
Scott pointed to the empty bottles by her bedside.
"Because if so, just say the word and I'll be on my way right after. I'll be sure to write to my mother, as well, and mention that you so concerned yourself. Though I cannot promise she'll be as moved to hear it."
"-Ami." He added. And though he'd meant for it to sound just as hostile as the rest, it was as if impossible for him... Because her name wasn't a word. There was no spitting it, no muttering it. And though it startled him, Scott did not fight the gentleness that escaped.
He may have felt split into a thousand parts, but at least he was fair enough with himself to allow them all their time. Even the old ones. The ones that belonged so much to her.
The biggest thing you can say is 'elephant'
Stamina: 10 | Evasion: 7 | Strength: 11 | Wisdom: 8 | Arcane Power: 6 | Accuracy: 8
23 Feb 2021, 21:00
Thinking Out Loud III: Indoor Voices
Ami nodded solemnly at his response, the image of Scott's mother appearing in her head. Of course, this was in no way the question she had intended to ask, but to be fair... it was as good a question as any. And she wasn't quite sure if she really wanted to ask, Do you still hate me? because she didn't know if she really wanted to know the answer. Besides, she had always liked Gretchen- not that she had spent all that much time with Scott's mother. But asking after Scott's family was always something that would usually get you into his good books, and Ami was determined to garner as much favor as she possibly could."She's fine. Working. Writing. Reading. You know the play."
His tone was so... bitter. Jaded. Hostile, even. And that was when the magnitude of just what she'd done well and truly sank in. Of course, during the months leading up to this moment, she'd regretted that entire night. She regretted every action, every word, every facial expression that she had cast towards Scott that night, and everything else that had followed. But... she'd done this. She had turned Scott Alexander into someone who would snap at someone, who would be terse and rude. Last year... she would have never thought that he'd even so much as raise his voice at someone."Why did you ask me to stay? Do you need me to get you something? More of those?"
Swallowing awkwardly, she shook her head as she fought back tears. "No. No, I- I'm okay." Since when did she cry so easily now? She had never been a crybaby. But now, the floodgates were on the brink of breaking. She couldn't trust herself to speak, but instead, seemed to become one with the pillow as Scott continued on his rather bitter tirade.
With a shuddering sigh, the tears started streaming down her face."-Ami."
He had been so mean, so harsh with his words... but how he had said her name was so soft. So familiar. And so she cried. She cried as she mourned the friendship that she had burned to the ground, and she cried as the pain of the gaping hole Scott had left in her heart came back to stab her in her feels once more.
She was reduced to a sniveling, sobbing mess at the mere sound of her name. How pathetic.
"I..." She hiccuped and sniffed, trying to calm herself down enough to actually get some words out. She felt ashamed: ashamed of her actions, ashamed of her words, ashamed of what she was doing now. But between the very physical pain from being thrown against the wall and the very emotional pain of her ex-best friend sitting in front of her, all she knew was that she wanted this pain to lessen. And since one of them would only come with time, she would have to start with the other one.
"I'm sorry," she whispered. This was... so similar to their argument after the ball last year. Certainly less shout-y, but with just as much emotion. It was like a reverse of their argument last year. Instead of fighting, they were... apologizing. Or at least, Ami was. Because she knew that, deep down, she was in the wrong. Indisputably, she had been wrong, and this whole mess was her fault.
Not Scott's.
Not Ana's.
Hers.
"I shouldn't have yelled at you. And I shouldn't have ignored you after that." Swallowing awkwardly as the tears continued to stream down her face, she closed her eyes and laughed shakily. "I was... so, so stupid. So jealous. You... I thought you would always be my person. And when Beckett showed up... I didn't know what to do."
She could still remember the wave of unfamiliar feelings that had crashed over her that day outside, as well as at the Bootleg Ball itself- the sensation she now knew as jealousy. It was a horrible feeling, the way her stomach had twisted itself into knots as her words turned venomous and she was caught between wanting to vomit and wanting to scream her head off. She had never before thought of herself as a jealous person, and she still didn't think she was. But her friendship with Scott had never really been tested before, and something about adding romance into the equation had scared the pants off of her. It still did.
"But I know better now. Because you're not my person, you're not anyone's person. You're your own person. And I was too thick to see that. So... I'm sorry. Please... I know you might not want to be friends anymore, but...
"Please, forgive me?"
According to all known laws of aviation, there is no way a bee should be able to fly.
stamina: 7 | evasion: 15 | strength: 21 | wisdom: 6 | arcane power: 3 | accuracy: 25
martial artist | spell spread | animagus
stamina: 7 | evasion: 15 | strength: 21 | wisdom: 6 | arcane power: 3 | accuracy: 25
martial artist | spell spread | animagus
7 Apr 2021, 22:49
Thinking Out Loud III: Indoor Voices
He'd committed to looking at her now, hadn't he? Made a whole point of turning back to face her, and refusing to look away whatever her reaction might've been... Because truth be told, Scott had known what he was expecting. And it was anger. He'd been expecting a snarky comment, an indifferent expression and a dismissive tone of voice. That's what he'd felt prepared for.
Not this.
Ami's face was instead leaving the stale imitation behind at a frightening pace, and becoming so blindingly her own that Scott felt almost crude to be looking at her. Too vulnerable and too exposed to be stared at. Eggshell. But even though it was happening so quickly, to the boy it was unfolding like a double feature film:
The slimming of her eyes, not out of contempt, but restraint.
The flushing of her cheeks.
The scrunching of her nose.
Scott was watching Ami cry seconds before the first tear fell.
So, was he committed? Or could he turn away still? Because as the first drop hit the bridge of her red nose, Scott would very much have liked to. But at the same time, it felt near impossible to tear his own eyes away. He hadn't seen this girl in so long.
The crying only got worse from there, but Scott found himself on the same edge of the bed, not moving a muscle. She was starting to collect herself, he assured, and watched carefully as her sobs became hiccups, and her gasps returned to sighs again. All on her own. But to his slight surprise still, it didn't seem like she was turning back into the wax replica he'd been sitting with before.
Far too miserable-looking. They don't make wax replicas like that.
I... I'm sorry.
Her voice was hoarse, and Scott barely caught what she was saying. Barely.
"What?" He snapped, and then she went silent again. That is, her mouth did. In reality, Scott still found it difficult to hear even his own thoughts over the hiccups, the snivels and the static crackle of the feverish electricity in the air between them.
I shouldn't have yelled at you. And I shouldn't have ignored you after that...
Oh.
"Oh."
She was apologising to him. To him. And it wasn't even a sarcastic apology for "making him come down here", or for "bothering him"... She was apologising for that. For it. For the violently new reality that took Scott a whole summer to admit existed. For spring.
Scott said nothing. He could hear his thoughts again now, as loud and as intrusive as ever. He was working on ignoring them for the moment. So still he stared. His own breathing not quickening the way hers had, but rather slowing down from the rigid pace he'd kept himself at since he first pulled the curtain aside. He felt his features soften, before realising they'd even tensed up to begin with.I was... so, so stupid. So jealous. You... I thought you would always be my person. And when Beckett showed up... I didn't know what to do.
But I know better now. Because you're not my person, you're not anyone's person. You're your own person. And I was too thick to see that. So... I'm sorry. Please... I know you might not want to be friends anymore, but... please, forgive me?
"I was so angry..." He whispered, and shut his eyes. "Almost impressive, how angry you made me. And it felt revolting. Still does."
Then he stood up. Slowly, like he didn't quite know where he was going. Her words echoed through his head together with his own, unspoken ones, as he made his way around to the other side of her. Sitting down, Scott let gravity pull him onto his elbows, and then dropped onto his back over the far too giving mattress. He rested his feet over the footboard, too tall and too polite to touch the linens with his shoes, and turned his neck to face the girl still.
His weary head was only about level with her stomach, since she was sitting up against the boards, but Scott didn't care. He'd found it, hadn't he? The middle ground. The safe space between looking away and returning her gaze was closing his eyes. Only his ears could intrude now. And they did. Every ragged breath of hers.
Scott shifted his face into a grimace and pressed part of it into the mattress for a bit, feeling something sting at the corner of his eye when forgive me bounced through him for the hundredth time.
"Are you alone?" He muttered quietly into it, the malice in his voice mostly gone but the warmth yet to return. It was wavering, wasn't it? Just a bit. An attempt at sounding nonchalant ruined by his more than obvious dread of her answer."Because I told you all that, before. Only you didn't believe me then."
Scott bit the inside of his lower lip when he felt it shake.
"Said I was pretending a bunch of things, just to keep people around. Because you said I was lonely. So if that's what you're doing to me now, just say so, because that's not fair."
Scott swallowed, and dried his cheek against the mattress.
Just admit it, he thought. Just admit that you're lying. Because I'm falling for it.
Scott let out an exasperated sigh and turned his face back towards the ceiling. So that was that, then.I'm not lonely. Never have been, never will be.
"Well, I'm very sorry to hear these last couple of months have been so 'awkward' for you. Must've been very inconvenient."I shouldn't have said that. Any of what I said. I don't even know why I said all of it. I'm not asking to be friends again, because I know now that I don't deserve your friendship. I just... would like for things to be less awkward. A clean slate.
Then he chuckled half-heartedly, and heaved himself back up onto his elbows to look her in the eye. Dumb, naive, too trusting... There are far worse flaws to have.
"Jesus. Just admit you've missed me, Ami, and then I'll hug you. And maybe call yourself stupid again, for good measure. "Don't deserve my friendship", give me a break... If it was a matter of deserving me then we both know I'd die alone."
A summer in Ireland meant a summer with Ben.
The biggest thing you can say is 'elephant'
Stamina: 10 | Evasion: 7 | Strength: 11 | Wisdom: 8 | Arcane Power: 6 | Accuracy: 8
31 Oct 2021, 14:57
Thinking Out Loud III: Indoor Voices
That was kind of a terrible thing, wasn't it? To make someone so angry that they were impressed? Friends were supposed to push one another to become better people, not until they were just about ready to explode. The shame that Ami was feeling continued to wash around her body, splashing against her face. It was as if she had been placed in an uncomfortably hot bath, and her limbs had been weighed down by stones, keeping her trapped in her shame."Almost impressive, how angry you made me."
Her eyes followed Scott's figure as he rose from the bed, as he laid back on the bed. This was the closest the two of them had been since their fight, and her body stiffened slightly in response. What were they supposed to do? They certainly weren't done reconciling or talking through their emotions... this was something that they would've done before their friendship had blown up in their faces, but they couldn't exactly just pretend like things were back to normal. She forced her body to relax, and after a few deep breaths, she genuinely felt more at peace. Even if things weren't entirely back to normal between the two of them, this felt right. The heat radiating off of Scott's body was a comforting, familiar feeling, and Ami could feel herself sinking into her pillows just a tad bit more.
Ami watched Scott's facial movements from her elevated, pillowed perch, her chin doing its best to fuse with the skin on her neck. "I'm not lonely," she shot back immediately, defensively. From her tone alone it was clear to tell that she was lying. Of course she was lonely, she was unfathomably lonely. The months she had spent without Scott by her side had been the most painful and depressing months she'd ever experienced. But still, even now, she still wanted to feign some semblance of pride. "Never have been, never will be." LIE."Are you alone? ... Because you said I was lonely. So if that's what you're doing to me now, just say so, because that's not fair."
Maybe she wasn't alone; she had Amadea and Cecily, after all. She had plenty of friends! It was in a Hufflepuff's nature to be friendly, and even if Ami's brand of friendliness usually involved a total disrespect for personal boundaries, she was certain that she had made enough friends at Hogwarts to last her a lifetime. But just because she wasn't alone didn't mean that she wasn't lonely. Because she was. It stung every time she turned to her side, ready to laugh about something with Scott only to realize that he wasn't there. It was like someone had placed a big, black, gaping vacuum by her side at all times. She didn't realize how much time she spent with Scott until he wasn't there, and than absence hurt more than any (or even all) of her broken ribs.
Sighing, Ami rubbed the bridge of her nose uncomfortably, before dropping her hand to her side once more. "I shouldn't have said that. Any of what I said. I don't even know why I said all of it." And this was true. Her mouth had an unfortunate tendency of working faster than her brain, and this time, the consequences were enough to make her finally stop and think before she spoke (excluding the moments right before this). "I'm not asking to be friends again, because I know now that I don't deserve your friendship. I just... would like for things to be less awkward. A clean slate."
"Scott," she sighed, doing her best impression of a tired parent after a long day of work. Lifting her arm, she patted his golden coiff awkwardly, stiffly, before smiling weakly. He was right, after all. She didn't deserve him, not one bit... but she certainly needed him more than she could possibly know. There was no one else who could bring out the best (and the worst) in her like he could. He made her want to be a better person, which was something that no one else at Hogwarts could claim to do."Jesus. Just admit you've missed me, Ami, and then I'll hug you. And maybe call yourself stupid again, for good measure. "Don't deserve my friendship", give me a break... If it was a matter of deserving me then we both know I'd die alone."
"Scott Abraham Alexander, I missed you more than vegan cookies miss almond milk, and I'm an idiot for thinking I could even go a day without you as my best friend. Now, if you hug me, please be gentle. My ribs really do still hurt."
According to all known laws of aviation, there is no way a bee should be able to fly.
stamina: 7 | evasion: 15 | strength: 21 | wisdom: 6 | arcane power: 3 | accuracy: 25
martial artist | spell spread | animagus
stamina: 7 | evasion: 15 | strength: 21 | wisdom: 6 | arcane power: 3 | accuracy: 25
martial artist | spell spread | animagus