Crying Stars
| Crying Stars | with @Damien Dragonclaw |
banner by Pericles Dralt| interacting as Archer Duncan
Darkness had always been a sort of comfort.
Archer had just set his lantern forgotten by his side, the magically-induced light flickering off as the only illumination became the sparkling stars above. He sat on the railings, leaning against the spiralling pillars of Hogwarts, with only a legendary to catch him lest he would fall. Of course, Archer would not, not with those nimble, deft limbs and a mountaineer’s quick instincts. His leg hanging off on the side, the tips of his toes barely touching the stones below, he looked at ease in the perilous position, parchment propped on his legs as he let it hang loosely in slender fingers, leaving the rest of the roll trading over the tower precariously.
His eyes barely grazed the paper, not that he would have been able to do anything in the embrace of tenebrosity. Instead he looked up towards the open night sky, as the constellations drew themselves out in the stories of far older times, both forming the many mythologies of classical Greece and the times when his mother would still tuck him into bed and tell him of their tales.
Since as long as he could remember Archer had been gazing at the stars. His mother’s adventures often called for navigations that pointed at the skies above, from the most common yet trusty Polaris, the brightest on that would always lead him home to the most obscure constellations no one else seemed to have known, as if it was there own little secret. Often, they made up their own names and stories late into the night reclining of their slanted roof, where a young Archer had thought he was invincible.
It was why he had chosen the path of astronomy intern. He paid little heed to the astrology and the useless connections with magical creatures or herbology, none of which he particularly cared for. What he loved most were the stories of the planets and the stars and the deities that revolved them or the angels that pushed them, even if they were more often rooted in fiction than otherwise. He had done little in his year long run of internship, which made him question why Professor Starwise still tolerated him in the programme. Instead, he was quite blatantly abusing his privileges of staying up in there late without confrontation. If one day he was, however, he would claim he had been polishing the enchanted telescope, but in fact, his nocturnal activities there were rarely anything of interest, much less related to the subject.
Despite the night having just crept into existence, the school’s campus sounded uncannily yet tranquilly silent, his own companion the cool May night breeze of the highlands, and the faint chirping of birds still up. A soft orchestra hummed in the backdrop of the scene, Scotland’s nocturnal critters out and about as the gentle waves of the lake below caressed against the shores and washed away his sorrow for the night. Just the way Archer liked it there was little noise of others, no loud chatter nor irritating whispers. Having grown up on the off-shore island and best friend of the mountains he preferred the melodies of nature to those left in man’s wake. The astronomy tower saw wind unlike the stuff library, saw solitude unlike the populated courtyard, saw the true stars unlike his dormitory’s faux projection. He could think of no better place.
Archer was cradling his half-finished homework as if it were a newborn babe, yet his hand hovered absentmindedly over the text. No, for as always Archer would tilt his head up and look to the sky. Soon, he found himself rewarded.
A meteor shower, glistening in the night sky like crying stars as they traced through the blackness.
I am not even singed. My wings are untouched. You use them for everything, except flight.
Liliya Starkova| Anthonie Engelbrecht
Liliya Starkova| Anthonie Engelbrecht
Crying Stars
Damien Dragonclaw was walking towards the astronomy tower as he held his personal astronomy book in his hand. he was quite excited as he heard rumors of a Metro shower happening tonight which gave him a chance to see some shooting stars which he wanted to see at least once in his life time and that made him excited for tonight.
He rushed towards the astronomy tower as his brown hair flowed through the cool May air as he hurriedly approached the astronomy tower before he began to descent up the stairs of the tower.
As he rushed towards the top of the stairs he began to think softly to himself worried he had already missed his chance to see this amazing event, was he too late ? had it already passed. theses were questions that was passing through his head as he continued up the tower hoping he wasn't too late.
As he made it up the top of the tower he noticed another boy sitting on the edge of the tower with a parchment in his lap as well as a lantern flickering by him as he was looking up at the sky, that's when he noticed it in the sky, the meteor shower which was just starting as he saw the shotting stars passing by in the sky.
He slowly walked towards him hoping he didn't mind that he set near him as he sat his book down and stayed quiet looking at the sky.
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Crying Stars
| Crying Stars | with @Damien Dragonclaw |
banner by Pericles Dralt| interacting as Archer Duncan
Company, especially unsuspected, unknown company, would be a dreaded thought tonight. Being an intern was a blessing for it was a minority of the school, and with its small population of insomniacs, or at the very least its good share of night owls, often he had the entirety of the tower to himself. Even Zeno was now napping back in his dormitory. One would think he would have the night alone with his thoughts, or perhaps not plagued by them either, considering the contents of his psyche. Of course, all of Archer’s fears come true, one day or another — it was the way God loved him.
Archer sensed as another shadow approached, perhaps one to be ignored by anyone else at its wordlessness, yet he too did not turn to greet the intrusion. The shadow’s shoes made noise upon the stone tiled floors, a clank that distracted Archer ever so slightly from the meteor shower above, sliding accusative eyes to the newcomer. He could make out little of the boy in the darkness, his features unclear and eyes upcast. He was fairly certain he should not have cared either.
Despite not having spoken a word, however, Archer felt it was almost an invasion, as much as it was a breach of the rules, which gave him an excuse to initiate. Not taking his own eyes off from the show of light in the sky Archer said into the still night air quite the blunt remark, “You ought to know you are not supposed to be here.” Surely the adventurer (and rule-breaker) could not care for rules, but by this point he was seeking anything that may deter the underclassman from a scene rightfully his. Killing two birds with one stone, he was also assisting Professor Starwise in his disciplinary measures — all the more reasons to keep him as an intern.
I am not even singed. My wings are untouched. You use them for everything, except flight.
Liliya Starkova| Anthonie Engelbrecht
Liliya Starkova| Anthonie Engelbrecht
Crying Stars
Damien wasn’t say a word as to disturb the peace of the other boy, plus he quite enjoyed just staying quiet and looking up at the stars it brought him comfort especially when he was all alone at home with no friends or really anyone to talk too. He suddenly looked up from the sky as he noticed the other boy was talking to him, telling him that he knows that he shouldn’t be here. Which was true Damien knew he was breaking a rule and he usually wouldn’t do such a thing but tonight was a special one in the lifetime night and he didn’t want to miss it for the world.
He looked back up at the sky admiring the beautiful meteor shower before closing his eyes making a silent wish to himself, that wish was to make a new friends before he reopened his eyes and began to speak not taking his eyes off the sky. ”I know I’m not suppose to be here…I usually wouldn’t break a rule like this but I just had to just for tonight..I mean this is a once in a lifetime moment and I didn’t want to miss it” He said as he spoke softly keeping his voice low as to still have a calm tone to it before he continued to speak.“i won’t bother you and stay quiet if you allow me to just for tonight sit here and watch this spectacular display in the sky.”
He was hoping that this boy would understand what he meant by all of this as he just wanted to view this moment at least just for tonight and then he wouldn’t break another rule or even come up to the astronomy tower after hours every again.
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Crying Stars
| Crying Stars | with @Damien Dragonclaw |
banner by Pericles Dralt| interacting as Archer Duncan
Silence at the admission filled in for Archer’s begrudging acceptance. A small part of his petty self wanted to complain that — and if his eyes made out the newcomer’s robes correctly — a Ravenclaw could watch from his won tower and see views just as good, compared to he, a Slytherin, cooped up in his dungeon dormitories with the only scenery the depths of a murky, perilous lake. However, the days of his gripes against issues as insignificant as house allocations were long gone. Perhaps though, once more he could meet yet another enigmatic, though, arguably, life-changing student he would barely know yet have left such a mark on him. “Well, in that case,” he said in final acknowledgement, “I believe your insight is worth far more than your silence if you are so intent on staying here.” Anything but wordlessness he would take, for now he preferred such a state over company in quietude. Engaged in a dance with the latter he would never know his companion, much alone begin to understand the cogs that worked their brain.
“My mother once said if I missed home I should look at the moon,” he began curiously, heading off on a tangent without much rationality nor consideration. If this boy was to sit with him he would also have to sit through his senseless ramblings. “Throughout the cruel tides of history, however grand or insignificant, it always stays the same.” Although his eyes still traced the stars that shot down from the darkness above he could not help but let them wander slightly to the nothingness where the moon would have been. Lest it was out and about and too bright rather than in its state of newness they might not have caught the blessings of stars the sky provided above. “That doesn’t feel quite true though. Just like the fluidity of the meteors shooting down her waxing and waning means she is never quite the same. The moon Merlin and Newton looked upon are also this moon, but I can’t help but feel it is now a completely different moon.”
He knew, in the words that he never said, it felt as if he gazed upon a different moon for the mother he had once gazed upon it with could no longer be found in any mortal worlds he could access. No longer would he lay on his roof back home, feeling each tile digging into well-layered clothing as they counted, regaled, and named the stars. Often they brought midnight snacks and hot chocolate, perfectly suited for the Scottish highland’s signature cold. They would share them as they leaned into each other, and whisper in lowered tones despite only the wind as their company. Sometimes though, they only sat in silence, basking in the presence of each other. Even if he thought hard enough, he could never equate anyone to that presence taken away by blame, dissipated into the wind as if she had never existed. If only he could forget it too, as swift and decisive as each star that disappeared over the horizon line.
I am not even singed. My wings are untouched. You use them for everything, except flight.
Liliya Starkova| Anthonie Engelbrecht
Liliya Starkova| Anthonie Engelbrecht
Crying Stars
Damien just sat there and listened to him as he tried to understand Excatly what he was saying. He understood that he was talking about the moon and it’s waning and waxing periods, he figured it must be a metaphor for something the issue was he didn’t know what it could possibly be for or what he could say.
He thought about it and tried to pick apart the words he used to see if there was anything he could say that would maybe help in this situation.
”hm.. well your mother she seems like a wise woman with those words.. and why I don’t fully understand what you said I’m going to try my best to interpret it.” He said as he continued to look up at the stars seeing this beautiful display in the sky. ”what i understood was that whenever you miss home you look at the moon to get a reminder of your time at home but without your mother being here at Hogwarts with you it feels strange and makes the moon feel different to you even though it’s the same moon” He said softly as he just kept looking at the sky.
He thought about what else he could say to help this boy who obviously seems to be a little homesick and missing his mother who’s back at home waiting on him.
”I get that..I as well miss my mother a lot too it’s why I think I enjoy stargazing a lot it helps me relax…but why the moon may not feel the same to you maybe looking at it from a different angle will make you feel a bit better as well as making some new memories along the way while also cherishing the original memories” He said softly as he looked over at Archer before looking in his bag and pulling out a notebook as he began to sketch the moon as well as the shooting stars around it.
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Crying Stars
| Crying Stars | with @Damien Dragonclaw |
banner by Pericles Dralt| interacting as Archer Duncan
Perhaps Archer had overspoken. In fact, he certainly had, and soon enough another heated argument once more brought destruction in the minefields of his mind. He was almost glad as Damien responded with an easy enough prompt to answer.
“Yes, she w- is.” In most novels, their grief-stricken characters seemed to have slipped the words up in the opposite direction, so in denial of their loss that they still referred to their long gone loved ones in the comforting present tense. However, though by no means accompanied with acceptance, Archer knew that night with certainty that her fate was now more entwined into the stars than the solid earth he sat on. Yet all the same he was no longer the boy whom Anastasia had first met, and he had now grew qualms for oversharing. If this nameless other wished to delude himself in the innocent belief that his mother was awaiting him on the Isle of Skye, so be it, for Archer would gladly join him. He cleared his throat, repeating the statement with more clarity and decisiveness, “Yes, she is a very wise woman.” Just as Maxi had said in praise, that one year before disaster struck; life intended on bringing him full circle.
Archer listened wordlessly as the boy picked apart his words as a scientist may in a dissection of his newest specimen — and perhaps in that way Archer saw a similarity in the same habit he often developed, unintentionally edging his budding relationships towards an inevitable downfall. His words were soft against the night air but it did nothing to change his reception as he scowled. What lack in decorum was there to think he ought to voice such thoughts just because he gave a disclaimer that the interpretation was about to come. They were an incorrect understanding, and they were an uncalled for explanation. “Unfortunately,” Archer said slowly, each syllable calculated as he produced them, cautious as if his mouth held eggshells in them, “I am not a poem for you to analyse.”
Unfortunate for Damien or unfortunate for Archer? To that question the latter ought to know the answer. If only, Archer thought, his soul was as easy to pry open as some dull easy on W. H. Auden poetry, he would be a blissful boy, whom, knowing himself, would finally be in control of his own body’s inexplicable operations. If only he could be as simple as the texts he used to love, never plagued by the vexing and more often, devastating, complexities thrust by life. Perhaps Archer should believe this narrative that he was only a homesick boy pining for home, where a mother awaited.
“Maybe looking at it from a different angle will make you feel a bit better as well as making some new memories along the way while also cherishing the original memories.”
Of course, Damien could never understand there was no way for him to make any new memories, much less not watch saltwater fall as the old ones struck him in the dead of night. And for his blissfully ignorant suggestions, Archer knew just as much as he was not the boy of last year, the young Damien was not the same Anastasia who shed tears in their late night talk. They need not delve into what cruelties fate had enacted.
Instead he watched curiously as the other boy pulled out a sketchbook from his bag and begun to draw. Inspired by the action, Archer too took out his own means of noting, a leather-back, pocket size commonplace book tucked into his satchel. Cocking his head as he tried to decipher the odd shapes in the darkness, part wondering if he could actually see with so little light and part, bar the practical considerations, why he bothered in the first place. Recording the temporary and only brought Archer pain as he flicked back into his journals, eyes landing over the unmistakable handwriting of his mother, those words set in stone for she would never write anymore. If he had no such momentums from the past perhaps he would forget far easier, so asking only with a fraction of his mind on the stars above he uttered, “Do you really think recording is truly the answer to all things fleeting?”
I am not even singed. My wings are untouched. You use them for everything, except flight.
Liliya Starkova| Anthonie Engelbrecht
Liliya Starkova| Anthonie Engelbrecht
Crying Stars
Damien continued sketching as he listened to Archer speak, he heard how he stumbled on his words when speaking about his mother but he figured it wasn’t that important as he just looked up at the sky before he heard him mention something about analyzing him like a poem. Damien wasn’t trying to do that or rather he though he wasn’t more so trying to understand his words.
He slowly looked over at him as he noticed him still looking at the sky.“Huh ? Oh no no I wasn’t trying to analyze you like a poem just was trying to um…understand your words better sorry!” He mumbled apologetically as he just stayed quiet and looked up at the sky continuing his sketch.
He heard Archer mention something about did he really think recording is the true answer to all things fleeting. He thought about it for a moment before he continued to sketch the night sky in his sketch book.
“No I don’t think it’s the answer to everything that seems fleeting as you say…but why everything seems fleeting it sometime isn’t but what I think is that sketching and capturing the moments can help you look back on them in your time of need…and have a different perspective or outlook on things” He said as he continued to sketch the night sky in all its beauty. He knew he didn’t understand much of Archer words but he hopped in trying to understand maybe it could form a connection.
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Crying Stars
| Crying Stars | with @Damien Dragonclaw |
banner by Pericles Dralt| interacting as Archer Duncan
In a classic act of Archer style dehumanisation he did not truly see Damien as a peer, not anything living, not even a subject of his studies. No, he only saw him as an encumbrance. All Archer knew was that he wasn’t supposed to be there. Why the hell was life throwing another obstacle into his way? As if he did not already have enough hurdles along this course? It was as if he came here on purpose, just to distract him, and, fittingly enough in a bout of irony, to distract himself. Pourquoi?
“Huh?” Damien asked in sudden exclamation, which made Archer frown at how uncouth it seemed, the sudden disturbance in a night otherwise tranquil under May weather. “Oh no no I wasn’t trying to analyze you like a poem just was trying to um…understand your words better sorry!”
Right, Archer thought. Well dammnit, he didn’t need someone snivelling in apology at his hands.
Archer allowed his mind to wander away from the newcomer boy as the latter thought and the former attempted to clear his mind entirely. He wanted nothing of this; his self-composure was a barely-put-together veil shrewdly drawn above some semblance of insanity he had no interest of dipping his toes into. Sometimes — oftentimes — his own over-analysing mind scared him, and any day he was spared from the spirals of anxiety, was a good day. He had thought this meteor shower would be a distraction. His blissful peace, however, was interrupted when Damien finally spoke, most of his stumbling words not making sense but little did Archer care for that. “But why everything seems fleeting it sometime isn’t but what I think is that sketching and capturing the moments can help you look back on them in your time of need.”
Then there was nothing more Archer wanted in that moment than to push back with argument. Why record just to feel pain tomorrow morning when he woke up without another meteor shower, realising he had lost what he always so treasured to see? Why would he ever want to dream over his memories with his late mother, just to blink his eyes and pinch himself, noticing in a tragic revelation that it didn’t hurt, and the only thing staring back at him was the dark, shadowy dungeon ceiling rather than the smiling visage of that woman he loved? Once he had scribbled everything in his commonplace book, but today only the things he knew he would not care for if they were gone, only the most mundane, as an anchor for him to hold on as the world moved at light speed around his thrown body in life’s tempest.
But he did not, speaking no words at first, and certainly not any in blunt disagreement to the barely-strung-together point provided. He was haughty enough to dismiss the boy’s ramblings.
“Well?” He said the curt syllable in part curious inquiry, part pugnacious challenge. “What is your outlook on life then? Or things, as you so poetically describe.” He asked pointedly with a telltale hint of sarcasm, searching for an answer as he lowered his gaze to scrutinise the boy, glancing at the sketches taking form on his dark page. What a miracle he was actually able to see in this light. He cocked his head in a sense that suggested he was more interested in returning the favour of a brutal analysation than forming a humanly connection. Archer knew for certain that this… underclassman was desperate to understand him, but the question struck him as if he really truly wanted to be understood, despite all those months of searching for that blessing.
Perhaps Anastasia had provided some comfort in their shared suffering, and for that reason Archer had been so easily swayed to share his troubles and doubts. Or perhaps life had just taught him different lessons. He doubted it was even Damien’s fault that he was acting like this tonight; he was just unfortunate enough to be at the burnt of his pug-dog attacks.
“Actually,” he said slowly, with every bone in his body aching from all the force cordiality took. “If you don’t have a good answer for that please just don’t bother.”
I am not even singed. My wings are untouched. You use them for everything, except flight.
Liliya Starkova| Anthonie Engelbrecht
Liliya Starkova| Anthonie Engelbrecht
Crying Stars
Damien just stayed quiet for a moment as he continued his sketch while trying to think of a worthy answer for Archer. What was his outlook on life was a interesting question so to speak as Damien had multiple outlooks on life never just one specific one. He stayed quiet for awhile and focused on his sketches as he sat there deep in thought. For a moment it almost seemed as if he didn’t have anything to say but suddenly his mouth opened as he spoke with a soft tone. “I don’t have a exact outlook on life…because life is always changing and it’s unpredictable..because you’ll have bad days as well as good days.” He said softly as he stopped for a few moments to just look up at the stars before continuing. “but without those experiences..it wouldn’t make us who are are today or in the future so that’s what I think…but I know that’s probably not something you’d like to hear and you seem to be a fan of staying silent so I’ll be quiet.” After that he stayed quiet and just went back to his sketching he could tell when someone wanted him to not speak and he was fine with that as the peaceful night air was quite quiet as well as the cool breeze that he felt while he was out here.
Once his sketch was done he closed his sketch book and pulled out his astronomy book as he looked up at the stars. He wanted to see if any of the constellation burned brighter in the night sky due to the meteor shower. He opened his book to a page that talked about the Big Dipper. He found it quite interesting on how they named the constellations he always wanted to discover a new stars and be the one to name it even when he was younger and his mother would sit with him in the window seal of their study and look at the stars with him. He was fond of memories like that as he was very fond of his mother and couldn’t imagine a world like that. He suddenly felt a small tinge of sadness as whenever he thought about her he would miss her dearly. He let out a gentle breath as he shook that thought off and looked up closer at the stars.
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