8 Dec 2019, 04:46
it's hard to get around the wind
open to anyone who wants to join!
It was simply too easy to be put in a bad mood nowadays.
Gem was never necessarily a happy kid, but he'd had his days. Lately, it seemed like there were plenty of good days in a row, weeks of good luck being served on a dessert spoon, but it started to hurt. He wasn't so sure when it happened, but it was like a chilling wind of sadness had grabbed him by the shoulders, choked him to death, and swallowed him whole like a boa constrictor.
It was no rarity for England to be frigid, but it was beginning to snow now. There was nothing that Gem loved more than snow, he could simply never get enough. Though his neck was wrapped up by a Ravenclaw scarf and had his body secured in a lovely black coat, he felt the lovely chill up his back when a low gust of wind trailed up behind him.
Finally, he thought, a sign I'm still alive.
His father had always told him that he knew when Gem was moody because he would become humorously suicidal, and while it didn't make sense at first, it seemed to click right about now now that he was thinking about it. He felt like sulking some more, only because his dad never thought to maybe give his Son In Desperate Need of Love a hug or something. The first thought was to have a good cheeky laugh at it. Well, fine. Laugh it up, it won't be so funny when I die.
It was very weird to admit, but Gem often imagined how people would react to his death. Would they cry? What would his dad say? Maybe his dad would get more press, maybe people would put Gem's face on their shirts and make him an icon like Iggy Pop-- or Lux Interior. He grinned at the idea, being plastered around like that. He did love Lux Interior. He got a cigarette in his mouth, lighting it with the lighter (that he was sure was almost out of gas) his father had given him, and stood still, watching each individual snowflake fall from the murky, cloudy sky. He was almost enjoying himself, if the harrowing coldness from the inside of his lungs and stomach hadn't been there.
"God," he murmured aloud, "this would be so sexy if I wasn't rotting on the inside." He puffed a cloud of smoke out, promptly deciding he hated the sight of the school for a second. So instead, he laid down on the horribly cold ground, his arms instinctively stiffening up as if they were trying to lift themselves off. He found it impossible to relax, so he laid stiff. Still, unmoving. He didn't need to move, he had a cigarette and it was snowing, this was excellent. It was supposed to be excellent.
[font=Courier New]
If I saw a kid laying on the floor of the grounds, I would wonder what he's thinking about. Maybe I would squat down and ask him if he knew the secrets of the universe, and he would very wisely answer, "look up at the sky."
"Why?" I would ask, looking up at the sky anyway. "It's nothing. Nothing is different."
"Then you aren't ready to know, young one."
And then I would look down, and he'd be gone. He was a figment of my imagination all along, and I look like a madman. I will never see him again.[/font]
Gem felt himself grin at his own story, sucking up more toxins. He wondered when his lungs would give out.
What really knocks me out is a book that, when you're all done reading it, you wish the author that wrote it was a terrific friend of yours and you could call him up on the phone whenever you felt like it. That doesn't happen much, though.
8 Dec 2019, 18:25
it's hard to get around the wind
@Gem Stuart
At first, Cormac had thought he was dead. He truly had.
He was just returning to Ravenclaw Tower after a rather violent snow-ball fight when he'd seen the very still body laying on the snow.
'Oh, dear Merlin,' he'd started to panic, cursing his bad luck in as many ways as the English language permitted.
Hurriedly approaching what he was sure was a crime-scene, he noticed the blue and grey scarf wrapped around the student's neck. 'Brilliant! A Ravenclaw, of all houses. What a merry Christmas we are going to have this year!'
Despite the freezing temperature, drops of sweat had begun to slide down the back of his head.
All of a sudden, the boy on the floor lifted his hand up to his mouth, slightly shifting his position. Cormac felt his chest unclench and relief wash over. With a much more relaxed pace, he came to stand a couple of feet behind the kid. Though he was looking at him upside down, he was able to recognize him as Gem, fellow Thunderbird.
Without giving it much thought, Cormac laid down on the ground. Absentminded as he seemingly was, Stuart didn't even flicker when the other kid sprawled out pretty much right next to him. He had probably not even seen him.
"Yep, that's uncomfortable as hell," Cormac spoke out loud, hoisting himself up and shaking the snow off his coat.
He sent a funny look Gem's way, trying to decipher what was going through his brain that would make him choose the cold ground over the warm Common Room.
"Mate, if it is a snow-angel you're trying to make, you're supposed to move a little bit more," he said.
C. McCarthy
8 Dec 2019, 19:40
it's hard to get around the wind
@Cormac McCarthy
It was mighty tempting to turn over and look at whoever laid next to him, but he didn't. It wasn't like he could really turn his head, it was like his neck had been frozen completely solid from the ridiculously cold ground. He didn't have to sweat it much, though, since he started to talk. He knew exactly who it was after that, Cormac, from the common room, his bunk only about a bed away, and also the Thunderbirds.
"Yep," Gem concluded, his eyes flickering over to the little Ravenclaw standing above him. "It's very cold. I think that if I get up, half of me bum is gonna be stuck right in his place. Right on the pavement, we'll hold a whole an entire memorial service fer it." He lifted his hand, taking the cig out of his mouth so he could properly speak.
"I wos thinkin' more along the lines of... snow angel wiv unworking wings, so they joost stand there, starin' at the other angels who can actually fly." He hadn't really processed how morbid it was until after he kept staring at Cormac's face. For whatever reason, he hadn't felt embarrassed at all. He didn't feel anything. "I think I'll name em' Hubert." He sat up, looking at the firm, solid outline of his upper half. "How are ya, Cormac? How's life? I haven't seen ya that much. Or maybe I'm joost not payin' attention, but how are you?"
He was sure, at this point, he'd do anything to get a conversation rolling. Truth be told, he liked Cormac a whole lot, that kid killed him. It wasn't even on purpose, but anything that kid said made Gem crack a little smile.
What really knocks me out is a book that, when you're all done reading it, you wish the author that wrote it was a terrific friend of yours and you could call him up on the phone whenever you felt like it. That doesn't happen much, though.
8 Dec 2019, 22:05
it's hard to get around the wind
@Gem Stuart
Cormac let out a laugh at the bum-funeral comment. Gem Stuart had this funny sort of humor that Cormac quite enjoyed. He was always nice company. Even if he clearly was in a foul mood, one could still go up to Gem, ask for help with a tricky charm, and he'd say 'of course' without a hint of hesitation.
It was pretty comical, the situation: Gem was still on the floor, while Cormac was standing up by the kid's feet.
"Hubert the invalid angel, uh? He might get to park in special spots up there in Heaven," he said, grinning.
"Life's fine, thanks," he answered Gem's question, softly kicking snow around with his foot. "This world's been gifted with pumpkin juice and Quidditch, mate, that's all I need to be happy. Oh, and I can do Wingardium Leviosa properly now, so I literally can't ask for anything else."
The moment he said that, he remembered the sickle he had vanished back at the Boys' Lavatory while he attempted the lifting spell. He pulled out a coin from the inside pocket of his robe and tossed it over to Gem.
"There you go. Been meaning to give it to you for a whole week."
Growing bored of standing still, Cormac started wandering around. He crouched down, gathered a bunch of snow in his hands and produced a decent white ball.
"Bet you that very sickle I can hit that tree over there," Cormac said, gesturing towards the trunk of a nearby tree. He took a step back and threw with force.
Cormac watched as the ball fell ridiculously far away from the target, frowned slightly and turned back to Gem, just as if the failed attempt had never happened.
"So, how's your life been, then?" he asked.
Last edited by Cormac McCarthy on 26 Jan 2020, 16:18, edited 1 time in total.
C. McCarthy
9 Dec 2019, 03:20
it's hard to get around the wind
@Cormac McCarthy
Amused, Gem watched Cormac roll up a perfect ball of fluffy white snow, packing it nice and thick. He had faith, that he would get that target head on, but... that wasn't what happened, and it fell flat on impact. Blinking back, he (not-so) discreetly slid the sickle over towards himself, slipping it into his pocket.
"Pumpkin juice an' Quidditch... really all someone needs ta be happy, aye?" He brushed some of his bangs out of his face, though they fell right back in front of his eyes not a second later. It was relieving to hear his little friend was doing all right, not that he expected any less. It was hard to be unhappy at Hogwarts, not that that ever stopped kids like Gem from sauntering around, pitying their very existence.
"I've been... I've been all right," he lied, scratching the side of his neck. "Studyin' it up, gettin' letters from me mum an' dad, Basil's... bein' a fatarse, that's for sure." He wasn't getting any letters, not even from Leland. It was beginning to feel very lonely, actually, he'd felt like it was hard to really get a handle on speaking to people lately, As relieved as he was that Cormac had come along, he was struggling with conversation. It was a true wonder how he had a boyfriend.
"Help me up, would you?" He held his hands out, feeling a grin curl up on his face. He was well taller and bigger than Cormac, so this ought to be interesting.
What really knocks me out is a book that, when you're all done reading it, you wish the author that wrote it was a terrific friend of yours and you could call him up on the phone whenever you felt like it. That doesn't happen much, though.
21 Dec 2019, 13:09
it's hard to get around the wind
@Gem Stuart
All the while they had spoken, Gem had been laying still on the snow. The conversation had drifted from invalid angels to annoying cats, and Cormac had enjoyed every bit of it.
"Yeah, it's nice getting letters." he said, "The ones from my parents take a little longer to arrive, 'cause our owl is half-blind and like, older than the Headmaster."
'We'd better leave before his butt does get a memorial service,' he thought. The wind was starting to blow harder and it was getting darker by the minute. He felt cold drops of something landing on top of his head and looked up to discover it was snowing once again.
Perhaps Gem would fancy a cup of hot chocolate up in the Common Room. Cormac could even offer to sneak into the Kitchen's pantry and borrow some bread rolls and scones. As he was about to suggest the idea, he heard Gem's request for help up.
"Sure," he answered, and leaned forward, grabbing the boy's forearms.
C. McCarthy
23 Dec 2019, 05:38
it's hard to get around the wind
@Cormac McCarthy"You've got a half-blind owl?" Gem mused, taking his hands, dragging himself up in a slippery manner. "Dually noted."
He rubbed his arms, slapping all the snow off of his coat that he could see, all while he walked, waiting patiently for Cormac to catch up. He'd never thought he and the other Ravenclaw of all people to get along, since people who were like Cormac tended to think Gem was too pretentious, too much, didn't really focus on his personality very much. He'd liked him when they met in their all-boys studying group, thought he was a real hoot, but that was about it. He wished he'd been able to teach him more about charms, but maybe that could be done sometime. Maybe.
"Common room, then, aye?" He said, smiling when he felt (and heard) the snow crunch under his boots. He wasn't sure where else to go today, and the most cozy area he could think of was the common room, so he didn't waste much time climbing up the steps hurriedly, beckoning Cormac to match his speed-- which was surprisingly difficult, if you didn't want to slip and eat shit. "I've got some sweets, in the boys dorm? You wouldn't fancy a few, would you?" It was completely rhetorical, because not a single child in this damned school would refuse something like that.
Wizards did have a sweet tooth, didn't they?thread in the common room: yeaaa boyyyy
What really knocks me out is a book that, when you're all done reading it, you wish the author that wrote it was a terrific friend of yours and you could call him up on the phone whenever you felt like it. That doesn't happen much, though.