Closed Me and you (and awkward silence). PV: H. Bakir

Image posted by the member
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ | DATE: 05/02/25 | ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐘 𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓

Romance - Yay, Or Nay?


0:24 ─●──────────────────────────────────────────────── -2:56

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺


After the last perilous event with reading romance books in a public space, surely Sandy should know better. Perhaps restrain herself from whatever temptation was found in the lines of the pages and become a better person who didn't read romance, or maybe just keep herself confined in the limits of a very closed room, one where nobody would be getting near her at any point in time. Fool proof, yes? Well, technically. But she didn't listen.

Originally, in her search for something of substance to fill her ever empty void of a mind without music, she had decided against anything romance. A very deliberate choice, and she intended to uphold that. It took many further adventures to spot something that she liked, anything to calm the hamster wheel that ran rampant in her brain, as well as to chase away the static that encroached the more she kept herself unoccupied.

She ended up giving in.

At some point during her adventure, the brainfog of an under-active mind had sprung, making the soft quiet of the library seem almost painful to bored ears. She decided to take a detour, find something that she knew best, just to chase it off. Of course, Sandy being Sandy couldn't just do that though. Being occupied by something she enjoyed wasn't an easily escaped thing, one that took effort and patience instead.

The first book that caught her eyes was rather... Lackluster. A cheesy romance just up her alley, with enough comedy that she could spot from just flipping through to make her day feel a bit lighter, but the protagonist was just, well, insufferable. Now, Sandy wasn't one to hate on anybody, nor their creations, but she genuinely questioned how someone could write such a stupid man. Hardly any substance besides being that stereotypical bad boy who gets tutored by the nerd girl and ends up falling for her, except worse! It was baffling, and no way in hell was she willing to sit and read an entire book that hosted this parasite of a man, fictional or not. If she continued to read on, she'd just manifest a romance like that.

Just that thought made her shudder more than a few times. Danny, while not very present, was at least a lot better than that man. Though, now that she really got the idea whirling around in her head, they did seem similar. Danny was sweet, though, far from being anything like him. They were just both rather obnoxious, and that was fine in his case. Sandy could ignore it.

If you were to ask her about the second option, she would've returned with a faint shrug. It was cute, yes, a bit more suspenseful than the last, but there was hardly any chemistry that she could spot. As a romance expert, Sandy believed she had more than enough experience when it came to spotting chemistry, and there was absolutely none between the two mains. Distantly, a voice nagged that it was because of the male again, but she silenced it. Not everything was at fault of a man, even if she desperately wanted it to be, because that's how it really seemed. Nothing to soothe her boredom came from that book, though, so she tried again.

Third times the charm, right?

Wrong.

However impossible it may seem, this book happened to turn out even WORSE than the last two. A horrible plot, one-dimensional characters, and the most ANNOYING best friend for the main character. A romance expert indeed, and not even she could fix whatever the hell this story had going on with the love triangle in it. Truthfully, she just hated love triangles. They were never even love triangles in the first place! They were love corners! And the woman was constantly forced into said corner! She would never be caught dead in a situation like that, and honestly? It was ridiculous how the girl never told the boys to act more mature. Because obviously their childish behaviour and downright toxic attitude was so sexy to her. Disgusting.

Fourth time, after many attempts at trying not to gag while skimming the last book, Sandy had finally won. A meetcute story, a ridiculously comedic first encounter, and a genuine connection off the bat. She would never admit it, but in the frequent times she had gone internet surfing for stories to read, cafe shop stories were always a favorite. The main pairing, happening to be between competing cafes, were obnoxiously cute.

With only a quarter way into the story, and her leaning lightly against a shelf, her mind wandered far enough to daydreaming capacity.

In every timeline she imagined, of her growing older, Danny was always there. It was never... Particularly in the way she pretended to believe, though. As her boyfriend, she should imagine him beside her, but it appeared that spot was consistently taken by another. It changed every time, in every universe she could think up, never being one exact person. It didn't bother her, really. They were young, too young to imagine themselves together in such a distant future, but it was still a sad thought.

A sad thought quickly overran by the idea of working as a barista. She wasn't exactly an artist, and she'd never claim to be, but the idea of making cute little latte art stayed firm in her mind. It was such a silly idea! She could make little cats, flowers... Just about anything, and the customer would love it. Maybe she should look into working as one when she's older... Yeah, that seemed good. Very, very good. Her friends would know all about it too, they'd be regulars there in whatever dreamland she had made up.

2:50 ────────────────────────────────────────────────●─ -2:56

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺
INTERACTING: @Hana Bakir
Closed Me and you (and awkward silence). PV: H. Bakir
Image posted by the member
──── The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde ────
Dear Ms. @Sandy Thompson,

Hana Bakir was feeling lonely. After being surrounded by her boisterous family through the majority of her life, the young girl had grown accustomed to a constant stream of attention; if her father wasn't doting on her, her mother was silently observing her. And if neither of them were present, there was still her many siblings to demand attention from. It was all so... quiet, which Hana would typically appreciate; however, she couldn't help but feel a sense of longing for the familiar, for home.

Needless to say, transitioning to a life at Hogwarts was proving to be quite the challenge. She had lamented her struggles into the dozens of letters sent home—68 to be precise—only to be met with reassurance that her situation will eventually improve. The youngest even had the gall to suggest Hana make an attempt at a friend. Now she has no choice but to mope in her fortress of solitude purely to spite him.

In a meek attempt to distract herself from her all-consuming homesickness, Hana often found herself lurking around the discreet corners of Hogwarts; the library was one of the spots she often frequented when she grew bored of wasting away in her dorm. She would spend time perusing the dimly lit aisles, peering into the shelves for a book that would peak her interest. At times she would stop and pick up a book to see if it were heavy enough to knock out any of her brothers. It is what she finds herself doing currently—her big skirt smushed along the edges of the thin aisles, collecting a thin layer of dust along the middle. Her short black hair, framed by two black bows on the sides of her head, lightly bounced as she moved. Holding the book up high, Hana deemed it adequate enough to at least elicit an improper "YOUCH!" from the youngest.

She blinked, placing the book back on the shelf. Alas, Hana had no desire to read at the moment. Right now the young girl longed for one thing and one thing only: attention. Unfortunately, she has yet to gain the magical ability to summon her siblings at will, so the Bakir daughter was left to her own devices. Eyes flickered to the tall ceilings of the library, silently wishing a bolt of lightning would somehow defy all laws of the natural world and strike her brother, any brother really, directly on the head.

The Bakir eventually made her way to the more populated portion of the library, the aisles widening to make room for more students. Eyes scanned the aisles, noting anyone of interest. It was only a matter of time before Hana found her latest victim: a unsuspecting head of blonde hair.

Moving with an air of elegance, she swiftly crept towards the figure. Towering over the blonde, wide eyes holding dark, almost black, pupils peered over her shoulder. "He pulled her in for another kiss, their lips moving in tandem as the rest of the world vanished around them," her voice softly rang out, "Hm."

Once she garnered the girl's attention, she moved to properly face her. Bending down, she forced the blonde to meet her eye. The blonde was met with a blank expression strewn across her face, eyes dulled in the same manner as a corpse. A strand of her black hair fell in front of her cheek, to which she tucked behind her ear. "My brother has a penchant for reading romance as well. He tells me he does it as a form of self-inflicted torture. Is that what you’re doing right now?" she questioned, tone unwaveringly monotone.

She didn't wait for an answer before continuing, "While I do hold a special place in my heart for romance, I find the protagonists of these novels leave much to be desired. The characters infuriate me to no end! Oftentimes I find they are lacking the sadistic inclinations that would peak my interest. I have yet to find a novel where one of the protagonists posesses demon blood, but I suppose that's not a popular trope among romance novels. Disappointing, is it not?”

Words continued to spill out of her mouth with seemingly no end in sight. “Though, my youngest showed me a novel where a man would frequently beat a woman with a paddle? I found it odd that there are little novels with similar dynamics, as they are the ones I am most familiar with in my personal life. Though, I suspect there to be more pleasure than pain in those actions which brings me great displeasure. ” She clasped her hands behind her back, head tilting slightly.

She blinked. “What shall I call you? You may refer to me as Hana.”

WC: 813 | Insincerely, Hana Bakir

──────────────────────────────────────────────────────
Closed Me and you (and awkward silence). PV: H. Bakir
Image posted by the member
0:24 ─●───────────────────────────────────────────── -2:56


Sandy had dealt with spooks many times before. Shocks, scares, everything distressing and horrible about horror movies and games and people. The spook of the day, however? Someone reading over her shoulder. AGAIN. It seemed almost a constant pattern, and she was 98% sure she had touched on this thought many times prior, but there was no way some divine being wasn't purposefully ruining her life and throwing all the embarrassing events directly at her.

Hands tensing around the hardcover of the book, a jolt of her body leading to her knocking her shoulder against the solid frame of the wooden shelves, she can feel every ounce of fear vibrating through her bones and escaping through the white-knuckled grasp. In some small portion of her mind, hidden behind fluttering emotions and the knowledge of her face being flushed, she can make out the smooth tone of a girl's voice. It's flat, akin to an open pop can left overnight, but there's still something distinctly faraway in it. Like it shouldn't be spoken from such close proximity. Well, that's a bit too nice. It sounds more like some weird female version of Edward Cullen - like a movie version of Life and Death?

She's silent as the girl moves to stand in front of her, book snapped shut and rested in front of her chest like a semi-barrier. The shoulder nearest to the shelf, now sore from the edge of it, shifts away from the surface. Rather than being relaxed, calm and in her own little world, Sandy is tossed into unfamiliarity. Her right foot is stepped back in the slightest, prey animal instincts prominent, a deer at the crackle of a leaf. The bent down posture, words tossed out with no care - Sandy doesn't know what to make of it. Anything could theoretically scream run, could be a red flag to leave as soon as possible, but what fear was there in just discussing-

Wait, what? Paddle? WHAT?

Sandy blinks once, twice, allowing the words to roll around in her head like a marble, before the ever scorching flush of her face returns with a vengeance. She can't entirely say she didn't expect such an out of pocket response, given the more than intriguing appearance, but there were many spectrums of shock factor that didn't quite fit the current details she was just given. If not for the fact that she had been shook out of thinking so quickly, Sandy could've even thought this girl was pretty - well, she is. Not pretty, but some varied form of it. Interesting. In more ways than one. Sandy wasn't entirely sure that interesting was a positive descriptor anymore.

Well, that was a bit of a crude description. Whoever this was, a fascinating creature of obscene words and more than corpse-like appearance, was still a human. She was still beautiful, like one of those weird Tim Burton movies, The Corpse Bride or something alike. If not for the pitiful amount of space between the two, Sandy was sure she would've been able to keep mild composure, but... Alas, there twas no space. Haha. Twas. This girl still needed to move away though.

"Uh... Mhm! Yeah, self-inflicted torture... All the rage these days." Sandy's voice seems pained, eyes shifting anywhere except for the corpse bride, "Definitely why I was reading it. Uh, I dunno about... What you like? I prefer more cutesy... Things. I-It's just silly, I guess. You, uh, might be more inclined for those... Monster romances, if you're going for sadistic intentions. Vampires are... Notorious for that... Carmilla, uh, probably Twilight if you're bored enough and wanna read deeply into it... Well, I don't think *you'd* need to look into it. Haha. You look like you could be a Cullen. How old are you? How long have you been that age? Sorry, ignore me, you're very close and I'm very scared..."

She trails off not long after that, turning on her heels to pretend-skim the collection of books. The one she was reading prior stays heavy in her hands, the thrumming of her pulse vibrating into her fingertips as she holds onto the book like something of a cross in the face of paranormal. One thing about Sandy was that she hated horror movies. Another thing was that she found the killers somehow attractive. Both of these things were adding up horribly in her situation.

"Do you always just linger around and watch people while they're reading, or is this a one-and-done thing? Just, uh, asking. Not being mean! You know, just... Pondering. Doing a bit of thinky-thinks. Sorry again. Well, not sorry- Sorry loses its meaning if you say it too much. Um. Whoopsies? Is-Is that... Oh man, my bad, I think I forgot how to talk."

2:50 ─────────────────────────────────────────────●─ -2:56
INTERACTING: @Hana Bakir
@N/A :MENTIONING
OOC Notes‎‎
Actions
Additional
Reducio
WC: 797
Reducio
being startled, gay panic(tm), jokes, twilight jokes, disappointment in english speaking capabilities
Reducio
have a good one :3
Closed Me and you (and awkward silence). PV: H. Bakir
══════════════════🕷══════════════════
Image posted by the member
═════════════════════════════════════
Interacting ! @Sandy Thompson
Word Count !
Dialogue ! #0a2457
TBA ! Date
X ! Outfit
N/A ! Mentioning
xxxxBlood flushed the blonde's cheeks, quickly staining her face a lovely crimson. Hana's face, aside from her eyes, remained eerily still—refusing to contort into any sort of facial expression. After a prolonged period of staring at the reddened cheeks, Hana finally forced herself to drag her eyes away. Voided, glassy eyes flitted across various features of her face—jumping from the slope of her nose to the top of her cupid's bow—before eventually making their way back to her eyes, only to find her gaze elsewhere. Elsewhere. Not her. Hm, quite problematic. Shifting to the right, Hana was once more met with a dazzling sea of blue, widened as if she'd be caught acting indecently.

"Surely, you must be aware it's ill-mannered to refuse eye contact to those you converse with," she lightly chastised. Lifting up a long, thin finger, Hana gently tapped the bottom of the blonde's chin—demanding eyes return to her own.

Silence fell over the two, the blonde choosing to remain quieted for a prolonged period of time. How? Surely, Hana spoke enough for the conversation to continue smoothly. Before she could speak up to break the silence, the blonde finally blurted out a response; her response was spat out in a hurried manner, the words shambolically jumbled together despite the many awkward pauses... Perhaps she had been caught doing something indecent. With her shifty eyes and tremulous tone of voice, it were natural to assume that Hana had caught her in the middle of a nefarious act. Her off-handed comment about self-inflicted torture being "all the rage" was conceivably a positive statement—perhaps this was in relation to that. Was she scared that to admit to Hana she'd been indulging herself in the middle of a library corridor? While a bit odd, the Bakir daughter supposed she could turn a blind eye.

The young viperess listened intently, easily following along as the shorter girl went on to carelessly mention a plethora of topics, consisting of 'monster romances' and vampires and inquires about her age. The long string of sentences reverberated through her head many times, yet she remained confused on their relation to one another. What was a... Cullen? A sort of creature? A novel? Was the comparison meant to be some sort of insult, or a compliment?

"Was the comparison meant to be a sort of insult or a compliment?" she questioned curiously, head cocking in confusion, "Unfortunately, due to the rules of the natural world, aging does not operate that way, thus I cannot just pause my age as you are suggesting. Though... I suppose it is possible with the use of a Philsopher's Stone. My brother has attempted to recreate such an artifact only to fail miserably. He received nothing but an immense explosion for his meticulous spell crafting." Similar to a supernova, mirth emerged from her dulled eyes only to die off with another meticulous blink.

"Sorry, ignore me, you're very close and I'm very scared..."

Her heart quickened at the admission, almost tasting the fear on the tip of her tongue. A primitive urge rushed over her, a sickening feeling that spread through her body like wildfire. The fear-stricken look fed something deep within Hana—causing her heart to thump deafeningly against her chest cavity, and her fingers to twitch, longing to reach out to her. In an instant she decided to chase this feeling—a feeling that would only be brought on watching as this girl's eyes continued to widen before popping out of their sockets. What an exquisite sight that would be. She blinked a singular time, the movement slow and deliberate, as if the action were being manually preformed.

Before the Bakir daughter could shift closer, the blonde abruptly turned around to brush her fingertips along the shelf of books closest to her. Hana easily glided across the floor, settling at the girl's side

"...Doing a bit of thinky-thinks."

"...Whoopsies?"

What was this abhorrent vocabulary?

"Why do you speak like that?" she inquired, leaning in as closely as she could without actually touching her, "The frequent use of colloquial language is quite odd. Did you never learn to speak properly, or is it simply something you enjoy doing?"

"And, you've failed to provide an adequate answer to my inquiry," she pointed out, eyes now following the light brush of her fingers, "Do you possess any sort of name, or shall I continue to refer to you as 'The Blonde,' in my head? Did you want to keep a sort of anonymity? ...Though, I must note you're doing an extremely poor job at it, seeing as you've failed to mask your face with any sort of covering or distort your voice in any way."

───────────────────────────────────────
xxxxxOOC Notes: Sorry this took so long, hope you enjoy it :p. lmk if any edits need to be done
Closed Me and you (and awkward silence). PV: H. Bakir
Image posted by the member
0:24 ─●───────────────────────────────────────────── -2:56


Ill-mannered? What was this, the 1700s? Now, Sandy wasn't an expert with this whole human-nature thing, nor did she have any credentials showing that she was more capable of human nature than the average joe, but she was pretty damn sure that eye contact was useless now. It was like a rare part in a car that nobody drives, or a singular piece of a laptop that nobody uses. Maybe this person really wasn't human... Well, not person, Sandy really needed to get out of that habit of describing them as a person. Hana, if that was even her real name (which she was pretty sure it was, but she liked the comedic effect of adding that), probably wasn't even human! Vampire! With her terrible two month long hyperfixation on vampires because of her brother, as well as the following mockery from Thing 1 and Thing 2, or his 'romantic non-genderconforming partners,' Sandy was pretty sure she was an expert on them.

Not really. Didn't vampires usually keep to themselves? They aren't really social creatures, are they...? Well, if they were, she would've known. Or, more specifically, Frazier would've known. If only he wasn't some lame-o normal human!

Throughout this entire mental monologue, compressing her thoughts into a nearly unfortunate answer of Hana not actually being a vampire, Sandy kept a relatively awkward expression. Generally, trying to decipher the humanity of someone was pretty frowned upon, even in racism central - that is, well, the magic world. Really, what was everyone's obsession with purity? Did they want their family tree to be a circle? Internally, thinking upon the small grouping of pure-whatevers she knew, Sandy giggled. She'd never bring that up to them, but she did find a bit of amusement in humiliating them... Only in her mind though! Sandy was a nice, sweet girl. Sandy didn't talk about people like that. Sandy also wasn't really supposed to be thinking about herself in third person.

Scratching just below her jaw, Sandy sucked in a breath, "Dunno what those, uh... Philosopher thingys are. It wasn't an insult though! See, I'd offer like, to pinky promise, but my hands are always super duper sweaty... I don't think you'd like to, yaknow, willingly lock a finger with that. See, if I were you, I wouldn't. Ya got an expert recommendation right there, coming from the person actually in my body! Well, I'd hope I'm the only person in my body. That'd, er, be kinda... I-I don't really wanna think about that more actually, I'm just grossed out now... Moving on..."

Majority of the following thoughts died out with her movement, defined by the attentiveness (or lack of, given the fact that she couldn't really focus) on the books. Now that Sandy really took the titles in, or what she presumed they were given the sad state of her glasses, they didn't... Seem all that interesting. Really, she needed to just start bringing books from home. Or maybe just something to do... If only she could bring her phone. Though, she wouldn't really ever go anywhere if she did have her phone, just sit in some corner and watch her social connections dissipate. Not that she really had any of them anyways.

Sandy spared a glance over at her company, resisting the urge to shiver at the sudden closeness. She didn't realize this was some Five Nights at Freddy's knockoff. How did these people just go around standing by people like it's a crowded train?

"Speak like what? Dunno whatcha mean. I just speak however I- What'd you say? I totes know how to speak properly!" Sandy squinted at Hana, the scrunch of her nose apparent, shifting her glasses from their awkwardly crooked place to an even more awkward place, "I think you could loosen up your talking. Sounds like I'm speaking to Nosferatu. Got any bloodbags up your sleeves? Well, I'd actually hope not, but like, go off if you do I guess."

Fully turning her head to the side, just enough to spare an embarrassed laugh without it coming off as fraudulent, there's a pause between the small giggles and her eventual words, "...Oh! I mean, you can call me The Blonde if you'd like. It's like that TV Girl song, pretty good. Uhhh, my name is Sandy, though. Yaknow, kinda like a beach? Don't need to clarify I guess, but it's more fun that way! Also, for your information, I could totes pull off an anonymous act. Like, maybe not now I guess, but... Eh, I dunno. One day. Like those horror movies, Ghostface? I think I'm too short to dress up as Ghostface without coming across as some trashy kids Halloween costume..."


2:50 ─────────────────────────────────────────────●─ -2:56
INTERACTING: @Hana Bakir
@N/A :MENTIONING
OOC Notes‎‎
Actions
Additional
Reducio
meow
Reducio
vampire? no vampire. yapping, more yapping, more yapping
Reducio
WC: 788