16 Dec 2019, 04:29
in sickness and in health
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interactions @Cormac McCarthy
ring ref here
word count 697 | text colour #274E13
»»————————- ♔ ————————-««Buttery light streamed through ornate linen-curtained windows, drenching itself on soft white brick and causing the Hospital Wing's walls to gleam like ivory. Flickering candles lined the walls in sconces, flames burning neatly on a blackening wick pierced upon a stick of dripping tallow. The normally calm atmosphere of the high-ceilinged room buzzed with sickness, students of all appearances and ages bed-bound with influenza to rows of white-sheeted beds. Nurses bustled here and there, gently grinning as they carted around full trays of pepper-up potions. Upon closer inspection, the case of illness was an open-shut case of the flu, but the sheer amount of students infected rendered the normal speediness of the Hospital Wing useless.
It was this sickness that had Astrea also situated upon a bleached mattress, back propped up against the metal headboard that was pushed up against a tall window. From just a glance, it was clear that the blueblood was miserably irritated, her arms crossed over themselves tensely and Payne's grey eyes squinting at the sun-tinted walls in a sullen glare. A sour look graced her face, distorting porcelain skin and rosy cheeks into a grimace.
The young heir felt terrible. Not usually very normal on select days, but a lifetime of exclusion from all those with Sparkless blood as well as a fully magical childhood made it so that sickness was very rare. The Slytherin second-year had read select paragraphs of narratives stashed away in the family library about protagonists suffering from some illness or another, but she hadn't the full personal experience. However, the currently sick child was internally very thankful at that moment for the ability of healing potions her mother had created in her youth. At least she didn't have to ride out the illness. But it seemed that at Hogwarts, she wasn't so lucky.
The rumble of noises that filled the Hospital Wing rang into a disgustingly muddled fuel for the unpredictable headache plaguing her. Her body ached everywhere, a throbbing soreness weighing her down like pulling rubber bands and causing her to wish futilely for the ability to detach from her ailing body. She had long taken off the silver chain around her neck that held her betrothal ring and placed it upon her lap, the wrought silver and moonstone momentarily dim with the sway of tree-shaped shadows outside.
Everything felt too overwhelmingly irritating; her head felt too warm for her chilly extremities, her hair had near tangled with her necklace earlier, she felt too cooped up in the little bed, things were too quiet yet way too loud at the same time. Astrea could do nothing but stare blankly in unhidden annoyance and hope that something to distract her from her sickening state of weakness would make itself known. The ring upon her lap mocked at her, her fingers aching with absence even many months after.
A nurse bumbled down the rows of the ill with a purpose, a pleasant-looking plump woman dressed in white and red, her caramel eyes trained on something. As the brunette drew closer with light steps, Astrea made out the name 'Nancy' written out in large and round characters on a name tag clipped to the other's bosom. Firmly grasped in one hand was a cameo white letter envelope, something wholly natural and unassuming if not for the silken blue ribbon tied into a neat bow upon it and a flash of shadow blue wax.
Astrea's mood lifted slightly as 'Nancy' came down the rows of people, her inner voice silently crying out with excitement at the sight- Sauron had written to her once more, the welcome diversion she needed from mind-numbing boredom. At that very moment, the willowy tree just outside the window she was pushed up against swayed away from its place and let a new blanket of marigold sun glare to drape upon the previously shaded area. It highlighted the Slytherin in gold and reflected against her betrothal ring with a blinding glare of white light that seemed suddenly very inappropriate in the face of so much yellow, melting the tone of her eyes into quicksilver before she abruptly lowered her eyelids to shield from the sight. Disgusting.
| astrea neptune ... | ... johannes sauer |
| hogwarts wizardry. duellist. | durmstrang. horntail horde. |
22 Dec 2019, 18:33
in sickness and in health
@Astrea Soleil Neptune
What had begun as a simple sore throat had quickly turned into a proper, massive pain that burned the insides of his neck and wouldn't let him speak above a whisper.
The mere thought of 'medicines' and their foul taste often made Cormac feel worse than the sickness in hand, and so he had been avoiding the Hospital Wing at all costs. By the end of the week he was pretty much convinced he'd never felt as lousy and had practically dragged himself down to the infirmary. For the first time in his life, he had swallowed the syrup he'd been given without even wincing.
The nurse had advised him to stay in for a while, as the voice-mending medicine would keep him from speaking until it kicked in completely. He had been laying on a stretcher for what felt like a dozen eternities, absentmindedly going through the magazines he'd found on a little table by the bed.
Deeply concentrated on a ‘What does your Amortentia smell of?’ quiz, Cormac scoffed when, all of a sudden, a ray of glaring white light came to disturb his vision. Annoyed by the fact that he was now unable to read the paper right before his eyes, he started looking around, searching for the source of his transient blindness.
It appeared that the ring a girl a couple of stretchers away wore was to blame for reflecting light in such an inconvenient manner. It was almost impressing, how her hand shone as if it was a tiny sun.
Judging from the green and silver scarf that hung from the chair by her bed, he gathered she was a Slytherin. He couldn't quite make out her face, which laid half buried in between the pillows. Ignoring her name, his first instinct was to wave her way and ask her to move her hand. Only after doing the former did he realise he was temporarily mute and therefore unable to do the latter aloud.
He grabbed a pencil from the inside pocket of his coat, tore a piece of paper from the notebook he'd brought with him and proceeded to scribble down his request. Once finished, he held up his makeshift sign, hoping to attract the girl's attention: ‘Could you please put your ring away? It's blinding me. Thanks’
C. McCarthy
24 Dec 2019, 01:58
in sickness and in health
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interactions @Cormac McCarthy
word count 490 | text colour #274E13
»»————————- ♔ ————————-««Her entire body jerked as her right hand darted out to cup over the blinding ring that was laid out over white sheets, thick streams of dark hair coming out to cover her face, which was scrunched with irritation. Grey eyes blinked open from behind the curtain of hair, sharp with Bringing it up in one fist to cross her arms at her chest, Astrea's free hand came up to pinch at the bridge of her nose in a futile attempt to ebb the strengthening headache plaguing her, Her temples throbbed something harsh, pulsing with the ebb and flow of a wayward tide without the moon, which only further soured her already bad mood. Everything was too loud, her bedsheets looked neat but they were wrinkled and her limbs felt like lead with the sheer thought of fixing them to her taste.
Unfortunately, it seemed that Nancy had been stopped momentarily by a needy student requesting something, the too-kind nurse turning tail the other way towards where cold washcloths were kept. If this kept up, Astrea felt like she would explode- from anger or just frustration, who knew.
A long string of scribbles sounded from the left- near-identical to the scratching of a quill if not for how long it went on nonstop, going far longer than any normally dipped ink quill would. It was comparable to the nice fountain pen that was given to her father as a gift and held up a constant place upon her Lord's desk, long-winded in writing and smooth. The Slytherin leaned back against her headboard as she turned her head toward the sound of crinkling parchment clutched in tight fists, the chain trapping her former betrothal ring drooping out of her clutch at the sides.
She saw the person before the sign. Just a few cots down lay a male with a mop of tousled Kobicha brown hair and blue eyes drooping at the ends, a Ravenclaw- if the house tie haphazardly hanging off of the edge of his headboard was any clue. The other held up a piece of notebook parchment in Astrea's direction, the paper marked by a scribbled note of 'Could you please put your ring away? It's blinding me. Thanks’.
The note, though polite enough, grated slightly on Astrea's already frayed nerves. Her fingers twitched from where they held the ring in question, pearly whites grinding in frustration as she stole an irritated glance away from the paper toward the end of the room.
Nancy was still off on the other side tending to some other students with Sauron's letter, the blue ribbon peeking out from the white apron pocket it was placed into like a silent mockery. Regardless of her obvious frustration, Astrea conceded in uncrossing her arms and tucking the necklace under her bedsheets, the chain gleaming lowly for a brief second under the warm light of the sun before it was smothered by white.
| astrea neptune ... | ... johannes sauer |
| hogwarts wizardry. duellist. | durmstrang. horntail horde. |
17 Jan 2020, 22:24
in sickness and in health
@Astrea Soleil Neptune
Cormac watched the ring disappear underneath the girl's bedsheets, relief washing over his eyes. She certainly didn't look too pleased.
Now that she had readjusted her position on the stretcher, Cormac was able to identify her as a second-year student; a pureblood with a long name. Astrid? Asteria? 'She is probably the heir of something,' Cormac thought while taking another glance at her. He had seen her in the hallways a couple of times before, but never spoken to her.
Probably against his better judgement, given the scowl on the girl's face, he proceeded to write another question on his notebook.
Once finished, he teared the page and held it up just like a few minutes ago.
'What's your name?'
As he waited for her to notice his sign, he hurried to scribble yet another message.
'I'm Cormac.'
Not quite satisfied, he grabbed a third piece of paper.
'Why are you here?' He kept his hand still for a second and, grinning just a bit, added: 'Something lethal?'
He was now balancing what looked like an unfolded newspaper right before him, just like some sort of shield that would protect him from whatever sharp reply came his way. He truly wished he hadn´t crossed the sick Slytherin.
C. McCarthy
27 Jan 2020, 05:13
in sickness and in health
More scribbling joined the cacophony of noise that filled the Hospital Wing, this time joined by the same tearing noise it had accompanied previously. Grey eyes ripped themselves from following the busy nurse across the room holding a very special blue-ribbon wrapped letter and turned her head to the left, a wash of frustration lying heavy over her.
'What's your name?'
For a second, Astrea merely stared at the sign without emotion. She had seen it- her eyes looked over the scrawled sentence twice- but with sickness came irritation and with irritation came a dose of aggravating stubbornness. The boy lowered the sign once more to write something else before putting it up once more with the sentence, 'I'm Cormac.'
Her mouth tugged upward slightly at the corners as she looked back and forth between the sign and its owner. Cormac- she might have seen the male in the halls before, or maybe even on the grounds, but before now she hadn't given him a second glance. Hm, interesting.
Astrea turned her entire body to haul it to the side toward her side table and dragged the slab of smoothed down wood lying innocently next to some parchment and ink toward her. Her throat felt like tree bark had been rubbed against it and drawn it raw, bringing pathetic moisture to her eyes every time she tried to speak more than a few sentences at a time. So no, speaking in the middle of the too-loud, too-bright Hospital Wing was out of the question.
'Astrea. Hello Cormac.' Setting down the ink-dipped quill, Astrea held up the marked parchment in the direction of the boy, looping cursive words evenly spaced and speaking of great discipline.
'Why are you here? Something lethal?' A grin further punctuated the try at a joke. The Slytherin rolled her eyes and clenched her jaw in irritation, a heavy sigh escaping her through parted lips. Maybe the crack could have amused another with a funnier personality, but Astrea certainly was not in a joking mood. Especially not at the moment. Considering Cormac balanced an unfolded newspaper in front of him like a shield demonstrated that he knew that.
'Unfortunately not. Nurses claim 'the flu'. Her quill shook with how aggressively she set it down on the slab, the nurse still not even close to delivering her addressed letter. How disappointing. With how much her head ached in retaliation to focusing on writing properly, she might as well had something lethal.
| astrea neptune ... | ... johannes sauer |
| hogwarts wizardry. duellist. | durmstrang. horntail horde. |