Parchment Promises
Coding by Estelle Nyx
time: night
outfit: x
word count: 684
#6e3c92-----
@Aodhan Shaw |
[Jamie Saeng] |
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She had been scratching at it nonstop with her fingers for the past ten minutes, but it just wouldn't go away! It was the kind of itch that didn’t fade or move or lessen, no matter what she did. It just persisted, like it had a personal grudge against her. But why though? She had always been nice to her hand!
The girl shifted her weight from one foot to the other in front of the school’s entrance, trying to distract herself. Jamie was supposed to meet her here - just like they had agreed upon in their letters. And because it was late and her surroundings were deserted, Novalie had zero doubts she’d show up. If anything, the Ravenclaw had arrived early, way too excited to meet the mysterious girl from Tenūsa.
But this itch was going to make her, who was always very reasonable, do questionable things if it went on.
Obviously her nails weren’t doing the job, so she tried dragging her palm across the wall of the school building and fence, then she moved to a nearby tree, rubbing her hand against the bark like a cat with fleas. Finally, in a moment of total surrender because nothing helped, she knelt down and rubbed her hand against the dirt and grass at the edge of the sidewalk, but that only earned her about ten seconds of fleeting relief before the itch came roaring back like it had never left.
She sat up and sighed dramatically.
What even was this?
Her evening hadn’t been all that unusual - she’d eaten dinner, wandered around the school grounds to explore, and maybe poked at a few wild plants growing in the cracks of the garden walls - but none of that seemed particularly risky. Novalie was pretty sure they weren’t poisonous. Probably. So... could it be an allergy?
Frowning, the blue-haired girl held her hand up to inspect it, but in the dim light she couldn’t see much. She squinted her green eyes, hoping for a clue, but her skin wasn’t red or swollen. No bumps. No rash. Just the same palm that had betrayed her.
Someone must have cast a curse on her.
Would Reparifarge solve this problem?
Novalie blinked, contemplating drawing her wand.
No ... she should cast Reparo. But first-
Without another moment of hesitation, Novalie did what she considered the only logical thing left before using magic: biting into her hand.
Sometimes simple solutions like this were the ones that worked.
Still gnawing lightly on her palm, the girl turned her head to scan the area for any sign of Jamie. She’d been paying close attention to the description her new friend had given: tall, brown eyes, brown hair - and probably really pretty. Novalie had even found herself wondering if Jamie might look like one of those elegant girls from TV. Tall people became models, right? That was a thing people said. And besides, Jamie had mentioned she was Hawaiian, which only made Novalie more intrigued.
She had never met anyone from Hawaii before. Her only reference point was Lilo & Stitch, which - clearly - had to be a completely accurate representation of life on the islands. They did the hula dance there, right?
Eager to pass the time, she stood up, imagining herself in skirt made of leaves and with flower leis around her neck. She began to sway her hips from side to side, lifting one hand gracefully to the side while her other one was still firmly clamped between her teeth.
As she hummed the tune from the movie, she mumbled through her hand,
“Ohaha heas hahihy. Hahihy heas ho-ohy ges he hehi oh horho-en.” (Ohana means family. Family means nobody gets left behind or forgotten.)
She grinned proudly, confident that Jamie would be so impressed by this.
Yes, the Metamorph decided, the moment Jamie arrived, she would greet her with the best hula impression she could muster.
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| xxxxxxx | Why was he doing this? Why was he doing this. Why was he doing this. Why was he doing this. Those choice words simply could not leave his mind, floating around in a jumble and crashing headfirst into anything that could offer him reprieve, all while their structure remained perfectly intact. Choice words that he could not find a proper answer for. After all, he'd gone through twelve years—yes, a decade and then some—with a perfect track record. No troublemaking, no questions, nothing that would give his family any more reason than they already had to be disappointed in him. And now? It was twelve years down the drain. Was it boredom? No, that didn't make sense. Boredom was not a foreign concept, but rather a feeling he easily recognized as a companion. It clung to him during his studies and lectures from his family, yet he long since learned how to manage it. Control it. Own it, as he was meant to. So, what was happening? What was it? His surroundings, just like his sense of clarity, were nigh pitch black, the darkness of the halls penetrated only by moonlight spilling through the castle windows. It served to guide his way, however, his eyes could not help but catch onto the building's architecture, its design and decorations vastly different from all that he knew back in Tenūsa. So, did this change of heart stem from his fascinating, albeit temporary environment? Did he get swept up in the excitement of visiting another school for the first time? He couldn't place it, and he almost didn't want to. Instead, he wished to smother all of his confusing thoughts on the topic, all his dread and budding anxiety over what should have never occurred in the first place. A decision he should have taken back hours ago. But, it was much too late. He had to keep his word, because retaining what little integrity remained within himself was the least he could do. Step after step. Tap after tap. He tried breathing in deep and exhaling slowly. What would his sister do? What would the real Jamie do? Positivity. She would stay positive, and graceful, and she would own up to what she was doing. She would meet with this eccentric wizard from Hogwarts and— .... and... "Ohaha heas hahihy. Hahihy heas ho-ohy ges he hehi oh horho-en." What... was he listening to? The young boy rose a brow in question, following the sound to eventually witness a most... peculiar sight, even with the minimized lighting. There was a girl speaking utter nonsense while swaying back and forth, perhaps in some odd form of dance. Why a dance, and in the middle of the night of all times? He wasn't sure. To be honest, he hardly even cared to know, especially with how she was practically eating her hand. She seemed confused. Still, he was able to recognize she was close to his age based on her appearance. Not to mention she was the only one around, which, sadly, pointed to one conclusion. Especially with the head of bright blue hair he'd come to expect. To make matters worse... The hair was different, but her facial features and her voice... Indeed, upon squinting his eyes for closer inspection, this might have been the same person who had bumped into him earlier. Without apologizing. "What have I done..." he mumbled, knowing that if it was indeed his pen pal, she wouldn't have a clue of what he was saying. Then he took in another deep breath before clearing his throat, "Excuse me? Are you Miss Novalie Moon?" |
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[pc is aodhan shaw]
I can only do my best; I do not do this for myself
Parchment Promises
Coding by Estelle Nyx
time: night
outfit: x
word count: 738
#6e3c92--------
@Jamie Saeng |
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Ohh... she could almost hear the ukuleles!
But before her daydream was able to anchor itself more deeply in her thoughts and entertain her more greatly, a voice - which was distinctly not feminine - cut through the air like a record scratch.
'Excuse me? Are you Miss Novalie Moon?'
The Ravenclaw froze instantly, her arm stuck in the hula pose while her teeth finally let go of the slightly red-marked skin of her palm in one go. She blinked in surprise and turned her head towrad the soruce,
A boy with brown hair stood just a few steps away from her, partially illuminated by the faint light of the schools' entrance; he was a little taller than her and if she wasn't mistaken, probably around her age too. He wore dark blueish clothes that were somewhere between cool and simple, but clearly chosen with what Novalie thought was good taste. His shirt, his pants, heck even his shoes seemed to be out of a catalogue. It looked put together and there was no doubt that his appearance and how he dressed seemed familiar.
A bit too familiar. But not from bumping into each other earlier, obviously - that she had already forgotten.
No, Novalie thought he had to be some sort of authority. They always dressed like that.
The girl stared at him in silence for a moment, mouth dropped and eyes still open wide in complete disbelief.
“Jamie snitched on me?!”, she then gasped loudly.
The accusation slipped out by her thinking that this was the only logical reason for him showing up, her thoughts going into a darker subplot quickly: Jamie, her sweet and kind friend, who had seemed so sincere in her letters, hadn’t come but instead had sent some Prefect (or whatever this school had for rule-breakers) to tattle on her for wandering around campus at night.
How else would this rando know her name? Why else would he be here at this time, standing in front of her like a messenger from a religious sect?
Not once did it occur to her that this could just be a misunderstanding.
Without waiting for any clarification whatsoever, Novalie took action, as she was not about to let some overly punctual dude drag her into detention, not today and not in a foreign school!
“No no, you know what?”, Novalie said quickly, rubbing the saliva off her hand onto her ridiculously oversized shirt.
She reached it out to him right after,grabbed his hand and gave him a firm shake, her grin wide,
“Joke’s on her then, because now I’m going on an adrenaline escapade with you!”
And that was that, decision made, no room for argument.
She didn't intent to let the stranger get a single word out yet, rather the Metamorph held onto his hand and began striding forward, eyes locked with purpose on a single destination, however, she only walked a few confident steps before stopping and jabbing her finger dramatically toward the roof of Beauxbâtons.
Novalie turned to face him again, “Let’s climb up there!”
Her grin was full of excitement, as if this was the best thing to do in the middle of the night after abandoning previous plans like going on a candy hunt.
Yeah, the rooftop was already theirs! She could totally see them up there, silhouetted against the stars and howling into the night, like wild wolves, maybe even daring each other to yell insults or scream fake spells! That had always been fun with her friends back home,, until that one time when they got a shoe thrown at them, that is. But that was not going to happen here.
As for the itch that tormented her before, it was suddenly completely forgotten, vanished magically into the wind, because all that mattered now was the climb, the night, and her newfound friend that she had just adopted into her adventure and into her heart.
Let Jamie try to send another Prefect, she'd just befriend everyone!
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| xxxxxxx | For a time, Jamie wondered if he had spooked her. She stood there for much longer than was necessary, staring while she maintained her unexplainable dance pose. He prepared to speak up again, to maybe apologize for the scare, but instead... "Jamie snitched on me?!" Huh? "Huh?" the sound immediately escaped him, his usual composure and mental filter weakening in the face of such outlandishness. Aside from all the information he gathered earlier to confirm who she was, hearing his own name was the nail in the coffin—this was, without a doubt in his mind, his pen pal. However... how on earth did she conclude he snitched on her? Snitching... that was slang for telling on someone, right? Yes, it was, but that couldn't possibly be true. How could he "snitch" when he was right in her face. "No, I didn't—" "No no, you know what? Joke’s on her then, because now I’m going on an adrenaline escapade with you!" "Her"? Adrenaline escapade?! For one of the first times in his life, a complete stranger was causing sheer bewilderment and panic to overload his system. A multitude of thoughts flashed across his mind, quick and thunderous like lightning, each one sending him deeper into the pit of regret. He honestly, truly shouldn't have come here. Before he could even think of explaining himself, Novalie's hand darted out to grab his own. Normally, he was strong, and normally he was aware enough to look capable and be prepared for anything. However, he was just—she was too... this entire ordeal was anything but normal. She was abnormal, with her strange dances and reactions and it caused him to develop a kind of mental lag that was hard to shake and everything... Everything made it possible for her to just grab him with her previously saliva covered hand—gross—and drag him to her heart's content. Or so it seemed. Instead, she abruptly turned his way and used a free hand to point upwards, loudly declaring something about climbing. He blinked at her, momentarily lost before his irises shifted to follow her gesture. "Up there." The next floor? Was there even a next floor? No, he didn't believe so, which meant... the roof?! For crying out loud, this girl was practically begging for some kind of trouble. He didn't even properly consider the thought; not long after she finished speaking, Jamie ripped himself from her grasp, wanting to make full use of the opportunity lest she continued with her nonsense. He could even feel a surge of aggression in his breast, the kind his mother so often told him not to entertain, the kind he was meant to keep under wraps, so the youth tried breathing as he usually did. Slow, deep, and steady. "I... Novalie, please, what are you talking about?" he questioned with furrowed brows, trying to maintain what was left of his composure, "What do you mean 'snitched'? I did no such thing. Please do not lie on my name when it—" didn't belong to only him, but he left that part out. The boy genuinely could not understand where her conclusions stemmed from. Did he make some kind of error in their letters after all? He was so careful, though. So mindful. But clearly not enough if they were both in this predicament. He needed to correct this. "Anyway, you said to meet here at 11, yes? I'm here, and I came without telling a soul," he tried assuring her, mind racing in the process, "And please, keep your voice down." Indeed, the absolute last thing he wanted was for someone else to catch them. That would make things nigh unsalvageable. |
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[pc is aodhan shaw]
I can only do my best; I do not do this for myself
Parchment Promises
Coding by Estelle Nyx
time: night
outfit: x
word count: 741
#6e3c92--------
@Jamie Saeng |
mention:
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She stared at the boy in front of her, trying to decipher what he’d just said.
What did he mean by what did she talk about? Her gaze briefly flicked up toward the rooftop she’d so heroically declared their destination, then back to him, ready to simply repeat herself - when the Tenūsa student continued,
“What do you mean 'snitched'? I did no such thing. Please do not lie on my name when it—”
Her brain hiccupped mid-thought. He did no such thing?
His name?
And then, the realization came to her, though slowly, like molasses sliding down the side of a glass. The gears in her mind turned with a sluggish creak until, at last, it clicked.
This wasn’t someone Jamie sent.
This was Jamie.
The Ravenclaw heard his explanation, which to her seemed completely calm, that he had come as promised and that he hadn’t told anyone (skillfully ignoring his request to keep her voice down). Novalie’s eyes went wide, and the grin stretched slowly across her face again.
“Oh!!”, the Metamorph gasped, lighting up like a lantern, “You’re Jamie?! Why didn’t you just say that right away? Ah, but, like-”
Her smile faltered just a fraction, curiosity tilting her head to the side,
“...Weren’t you supposed to be a girl?”
The girl's voice was full of genuine confusion rather than accusation. Not that Jamie had ever said he was a girl - but something about the letters had led her to that conclusion. Maybe it was the little heart at the end of his first message, maybe the almost absurdly neat handwriting, the kind she usually saw in notes passed during class between her female friends. Or maybe it was just the tone - warm and elegant, similar to the one of her closest friends.
Well, clearly, she’d been wrong - but that wasn't that big of a deal anyway, right?
Gender confusion aside, the more important revelation was that he hadn’t snitched.
“Welp, sorry for that!”, the redhead said with zero shame, flashing a brilliant grin.
Of course, the apology wasn’t for mistaking his gender, but for having assumed he was a traitorous informant. That was far more offensive, obviously.
“You know, my brother once told me people who snitch get their tongues cut off.”, she added brightly, “So like, you're really lucky you didn’t do that!”
The way she said it was so cheerful that it could be difficult for strangers to tell whether she understood what her brother had actually meant by this. To her, it just seemed like a natural consequence of the universe.
Without missing a beat, Novalie turned toward the school building and looked up, her eyes sparkling.
“So! There are a few balconies on the way up. Shouldn’t be too hard if we take breaks on them. Are you good at climbing? I mean, you should be good if you climb trees sometimes.”
She turned back to Jamie expectantly, blissfully unaware of his obvious lack of enthusiasm from before. Whether or not he was still holding back his anger, in her mind, this was still and definitely what they were doing now. The mission was live.
“And when we’re up there -”, she added, “- you can tell me what’s up with your name.”
Because, as oblivious as she sometimes seemed, she hadn’t missed it, the way Jamie had trailed off earlier.
'Please do not lie on my name when it—' - Yeah, when what?
Her thoughts instantly swirled with possibilities. Was he secretly royalty, a noble heir with a duty to preserve his name’s honor? Was it the name of someone important, someone he had to protect, like a great-grandfather? Perhaps this was all about a secret identity?
So many questions. And every second she looked at him, at his dark eyes reminding her of a cup of hot chocolate on a cold winter day, Novalie’s curiosity only grew.
Without warning, she stepped closer - way closer than acceptable between friends, let alone strangers, and leaned in, her face now just inches from his. Social norms, of course, had long since left the chat.
“Should we make it a race?”, she whispered excitedly, teasing, “Bet I’m so much faster than you.”
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