Through Oneiric Eyes
Azzure couldn’t sleep at all last night, everytime she closed her eyes the image of her disfigured reflection came to mind. She could still feel its jagged porcelain digging into her flesh, like tiny razor blades that traveled up her skin.
Every dark corner of her room stood the corpse of her cousin, every long hallway was suddenly a road with Kazumi’s body hanging limply at the end, standing there with the 2 words that haunted every second of her life. It felt like every step she took was in between lucidity and insanity. Azzure didn’t know what was real anymore, didn’t know what to believe in.
Ignoring reality was getting harder and harder with every breath—as the crushing reality set in that there truly was no way out of this. It was almost laughable how deep Azzure was in the ditch she had willingly fallen into. It felt the world was punishing her for just existing.
‘… there has to be a way out of this.’ Azzure thought to herself… there just has to be.
Being at her wits end, Azzure found herself standing in front of the library. As soon as she opened the door to the Hogwarts library, the scent of books filled her nose. Her footsteps echoed throughout the library as she made her way to the section about dreams. She picked up a few books––those about dream interpretation and what not––before sitting down at the end of a long wooden table.
Azzure liked it when the library was like this; quite, early morning light streaming through the windows, illuminating the dust that swirled throughout the library. It was nice, peaceful, quiet. And for a moment, Azzure let her guard down, closing her eyes and letting herself bask in the quiet serenity of the mostly-empty library.
Well, that was the case—until the scratching sound of someone pulling up a chair grated at her ears. Azzure’s eyes shot open at the sound, glaring at the person responsible for the down-right horrendous sound.
Azzure narrowed her eyes at the ravenclaw boy, one she’d seen in a few classes but never paid much attention to. He looked like what Azzure pictured younger Mr.Clean to look with a jawline that streached on for miles and dark hair that fell in every which direction.
‘Well then, I guess peace could be added to the growing list of things the universe decided I didn’t deserve to have’ Azzure thought, internally groaning to herself.
Signing, Azzure spoke up, her voice low, almost fed up as she addressed the boy in front of her with exhaustion
“Hey, can you keep it down? I’m kind of trying to focus here.”
ReducioWord Count: 447
This is an RP with: @Mikey Forville
Last edited by Azzure Solace on 24 Jul 2025, 14:54, edited 1 time in total.
Through Oneiric Eyes
Banner made by Robin Marie
The chair groaned a nasty scratch on the stony floor as Mikey was half-way into sitting down. He winced. Sound was never nice in the library but especially not now. He stiffened when the girl at the table in front of him gave him a stare so sharp it could remove the skin off a fish. He recognized her from school, some sort of symbolic stormcloud just hanging out above her head. She seemed like she was at the breaking point. And now him. "Ah sorry," Mikey said quickly, voice low. "Didn't mean to, uh, blow up the quiet or anything."
He sat down again gingerly, more cautious, putting his bag on the floor with more than self-control. The worn book in his arm knocked against the table gently as he set it down. He shifted it an inch to the side in, balancing one hand on top of the title as if it would give away too much. The plain old spine was lettered so that it would be blank save for if you knew the spell. He could still feel her staring at him. And gave her a small smile. "Didn't mean to intrude," he told her. "Just… needed some space where no one would question things."
His hand moved again close to the book as if considering opening the book. "I am not doing homework for class," he protested a bit too vehemently, then attempted to cover. "Just… interested in some, theories. Ancient ones. The kind that do not get talked about much in textbooks anymore."
He glanced up, cautiously, assessing her reaction. She didn't seem the ratting sort to a professor. She seemed more like the sort of person who had secrets of her own, and possibly respect for those who did. "But yeah," he grumbled, bouncing a quill against the table. "I'll keep my trap shut. I Promise.".
He shifted, angling the book so that he was the sole individual who could read on the page as he whispered a teeny key incantation under his breath. The words wiggled into being, ink bleeding across parchment like smoke. He uttered not another word. But he stayed. Just in case she wasn't annoyed by a little bit of quiet company with a slightly darker reading material.
Reducio
@Azzure Solace
Through Oneiric Eyes
Azzure didn’t speak at first. Raising an eyebrow at the boy in front of her, her gaze sharp and piercing as she wondered why the hell this wet paper towels with trust issues who hasn't even introduced himself, decided that they knew each other well enough to the point where they could share a table. What more the human equivalent of a dropped bookmark had decided that right infront of her is the right place to start muttering wizard nonsense like he was personally auditioning to be a part of some possession.
Azzure rolled her eyes, it felt like she was. watching a train wreck in slow motion. A breath left her nose — something between a sigh and a scoff. In front of her, the shrimp in wizard robes continued muttering to himself like the book was about to file a complaint. Azzure stared at the boy with mild entertainment in her eyes — the type that people feel when they're watching someone try to parallel park a hearse in a snowstorm: slow, painful, and too awkward to look away from.
“You know –– your whispers are louder than most people’s confessions. Impressive. Horrible, but impressive." She muttered dryly, finally tearing her eyes away from him and back to her own pages, not caring enough about Mr. Generic to care about what type of reaction he might have to her bluntness. A silence passed through the library, the rustling of pages echoing throughout the room as Azzure continued where she left off in the book.
Then, without looking up again, the albino girl spoke “I don’t care what you’re reading. Just don’t bleed weird magic into my side of the table. I came here for the silence. Not solitude. You can stay quiet –– you stay weird. I truly don’t care.” She turned a page, the movement sharp like a flicked knife.
“If you start monologuing or drawing blood, then we’ll have issues.”
ReducioWord Count: 314
This is an RP with: @Mikey Forville
Through Oneiric Eyes
Banner made by Robin Marie
Azzure’s words stabbed through that silence, much like through charmwork parchment—precise, cold, and a tad threatening. She did not turn to look him in the eyes, making it all the more bad. Or good. He wasn't sure. Maybe, this one thing it did give him was to wince in private.
He sat weighing his shoulders down, subtle enough to have been the posture of the boy just caught having broken the silence of a church with a kazoo. Her tone had been blisteringly dry, the kind of dry tone which leaves no ground for a person's imagination: Lack of amusement; lack of appreciation; total disinterest in participation in the library friendship game.
Mikey had a bunch of things to say. I'll just keep quiet, Sorry again, You know, this is technically a shared table. But he chose not to say any of these. Not yet. Instead, he let the silence descend once again upon them, like dust in a sunbeam: safe, fragile, conditional. She turned a page with finality too great for a weaker moment.
"I don’t care what you’re reading. Just don’t bleed weird magic into my side of the table. I came here for the silence. Not solitude. You can stay quiet––you stay weird. I truly don’t care." Stay quiet. Stay weird. The words reached inside his head with an echo…okay, he could work with that.
He looked down at his book. Both hands were carefully placed on its cover, as if it might do something by itself. Across the page, the ink shimmered slightly; he said no more enchantments. That was the last thing he wanted, to wake some ancient dream spirit who would then take her wording literally. He felt her still reading, felt the slight tension still humming between them, like a badly tuned wireless. Never had the library felt so loud.
After quite a long stretch, he grabbed his parchment silently, quill in hand. No, he did not move with it: instead, he sat back and looked at the edge of the table for ten long seconds. Then, softly, in an undecided tone—neither apology nor not apology—he said
"...You know, that might be the nicest thing anyone’s said to me all week." There was no sarcasm in his voice. Nothing but the sly little amusement. He didn’t look up, not waiting for a response. He simply flipped open his book once again with monastic care and began making notes in exaggerated silence, lips sealed.
Reducio
@Azzure Solace
Through Oneiric Eyes
The only sign that she’d heard him was the brief twitch of her eyes like she’d just heard a chair squeak during a funeral. Of course he just had to speak again. And of course, that’s what he said.
The silence between them had stretched so long and awkward it felt like it had grown its own limbs and started pacing. She hated silences like that—the ones that were loud with discomfort, humming with unspoken tension like a magically-charged static spell waiting to pop.
She exhaled through her nose, sharp this time. “... don't dig your own ditch.” she muttered, half to him, half to the universe. “You could’ve just sat there and let the shame do its job.”
But after a breath, her tone shifted. Just slightly. Then, quietly—almost like an afterthought—she said:
“Gods, you must know some truly awful people.” Azzure scoffed out. “…Still. That’s… grim.”
She let the words hang for a second, then added, dry as bone, “You can keep that one, I guess. Consider it a compliment––or emotional charity––whichever one you can stomach the best. But don't get used to it. That one's limited edition. No replacements if damaged.”Azzure spoke, not looking at him, but something about the sharpness in her posture eased. Not quite relaxed, but less bristling.
A tiny, sardonic huff left her—almost a laugh, but filed down into something less generous. “And if your book so much as glows, I swear I’ll hit it with a chair.” Another beat.
Then in a quieter tone—almost reluctant––she turned to look at him. And when she spoke again, her voice held something unexpected—clear, steady, and for once, entirely sincere.
“Just… don’t let things get awkward.”
ReducioWord Count: 281
This is an RP with: @Mikey Forville
Through Oneiric Eyes
Banner made by Robin Marie
There was that flash of a moment, so quick you'd blink and miss it. When the edge of her words softened slightly. Mikey kept his eyes on the ground, but he felt it, the softening of her voice that wasn't so keenly cutting this time. Still cautioning, still as dry as bone, but not quite a knife to the chest.
He smirked faintly at her last line. “No awkwardness,” he repeated under his breath, like he was making a formal promise to the gods of sarcasm and second chances. “Right, Noted. I’ll cancel my dramatic monologue about shadow dreams and Undead funeral rights, then.”
The book in his hand wasn't actuly glowing, thank goodness, but the top of the page folded in at a sharp angle when he flipped it over. He made a mark or two in the margin to appearances' sake, and then did it very lightly, still not glancing her way, just letting his voice drift over the distance between them.
He did finally look over, though not at her, just enough to catch the corner of her face, attempting not to tip the scale. "That threat of the chair, though? Honestly chilling. Noted twice." Then, with a kind of quiet sincerity that didn’t ask for anything in return, he added “I’ll take the limited-edition compliment. I’ve got a shelf for those. Empty, but… waiting.”And with that, he returned to his book.
Reducio
@Azzure Solace
@Azzure Solace