21 Dec 2019, 05:32
the art of being a slag
@Rafael D'Spacito
Gem seemed amused at Rafa's confusion, a little surprised he hadn't known what it meant. He didn't belittle him, though teasing seemed tempting at this point - he didn't pick on anyone's vocabulary, but it did bring him a weird, smug sort of feeling whenever he knew something someone else did - it was objectively terrible, and it really highlighted the fact he was quite pretentious, but... he liked to share his knowledge, so there was some hope for him there.
"Yeh, pointillism," Gem repeated, "when ya make a drawin' wiv a bunch'a little dots. Really time consumin' but gorgeous." He was tempted to pull the drawing out, but the topic had soared back over to Mr. Oscar Wilde, and he'd nearly completely forgotten his little thing about over-explaining a dumb old topic about art.
“Isn’t he, like, a poet or something?-"
"Yes!" Gem pipped, patting around his robes to try and retrieve a book of his favorite writer's poems, but alas, he had nothing. "An' a story writer, too, joost brilliant. You know me cat, Basil? Orange fat bastard? I named him after Basil Hallward, and me friend--" He stopped, a bit ahead of himself there. His and
"An- anyway, good! I'm able ta handle messes, Rafa, look at me. Look at me hair." He gestured at the mop of brown, wavy, tangled hair atop his head, a humorous smirk breaking his previously more... upset expression. "I hope ya have fun readin' about me emotions, cos' they're all over tha place. Really, have fun readin' my chicken scratch handwriting." He reached into his back pocket, pulling out a small, black notebook, handing it over to his boyfriend. Maybe he was a bit reluctant, letting that piece of himself go, but... he hadn't had anything awful in there, so it wasn't like he'd die.
"Don't forget ta return it, okay? Every night. It'll give me an excuse ta see ya, anyways." He winked, lightly nudging his shoulder against Rafa's. "I'll even let ya write in it, little notes. Only if ya want, though, y'know." He sniffled, messing with the tip of his wand, tapping on it with his index finger. Well, what were they gonna do now?
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.
26 Dec 2019, 04:01
the art of being a slag
@Gem Stuart
"Yeh, pointillism. When ya make a drawin' wiv a bunch'a little dots. Really time consumin' but gorgeous."
Rafa still wasn’t too sure about what exactly this ‘pointillism’ was – it definitely had an intriguing sound to it, that was for sure. How people used dots to make art, he would surely never know. Though, he did know better than anyone what humans were capable of, given the situation. The thought put an intrigued look on his face, his curiosity only burning more. He would definitely need to look this up the first chance he got – most likely during Christmas Break, he reasoned, when his phone was working again.
He decidedly pushed this thought from his head for the moment, however, as Gem had started telling him more about this Oscar Wilde fellow. True to his first assessment, the guy was a poet – this gave him a bit of a smug feeling on the inside, one that he was sure to keep to himself. Though, he felt a bit miffed that he had missed the storywriter bit – weren’t the two hand in hand? Should he even be agonizing himself over such menial things? “You know me cat, Basil?” Gem asked him. “Orange fat bastard?” Any train of thought Rafa once had had surely wrecked at this point, a grin growing on his features. The cat that had nearly gave Gem – and by default, everyone else – a heart attack at their last Thunderbirds meeting? One would have to hit his head pretty damn hard to forget something like that. Of course I remember that ruddy cat, he thought amusedly. “I named him after Basil Hallward, and me friend--"
In the midst of his conversation, Gem had sort of paused. It seemed as if a shadow had fallen over his features. This definitely got Rafa’s inward wheels spinning in overdrive – he tucked his lip between his teeth in a worried sort of way, carefully looking over his boyfriend’s face. If there was one thing that really got under his skin, it was seeing Gem upset. He didn’t say anything, though, his face holding a careful gaze, and his tongue steeled. People didn't like when you butted around in their personal life. It wasn't any of his business - if it was, he'd hear about it from Gem. "Cat, this girl," his boyfriend continued, "we named em' after... we named them after uh, the characters, in the book. They were lovers, I fink. It's heavily implied, anyway. Cos' uh, it... it was the book that got Oscar exiled for being gay, so... yeh, um."
"Sounds like a good read, that’s for damn sure,” he commented easily. He had forced his smile back on his face with practiced ease, the sort Diego had taught him to maintain in difficult situations. Not that it was really necessary, or anything. He just really hated leaving the air this tense – it was one of those things that really got under his skin. He really hadn’t planned out what to say this far, but he was already ankle-deep, so he figured he’d go on - not that he was faking his interest. No, that was definitely real. “Basil…. What book was that? I might just check it out.”
Gem had a style about him, Rafa realized just about them. He had never noticed it before, but for some reason, now it was more apparent than ever. His hair, his slightly unkempt clothing. The classics, and poems. The instruments. His poetic words and just… strangely perfect sort of personality. Rafa felt rather stupid, not having noticed all of this as a whole. It was quite special, he realized. He wasn’t sure he had ever met anyone quite like Gem. He was definitely an original, genuine sort of fellow. Rafa wasn’t sure there was anything more to say about it really. He looked over Gem in a strange, searching way, almost as if he had discovered something he had never seen. Thinking about it gave him a bubbly feeling, one that just made his grin all the more real.
"An- anyway, good!” His thoughts were suddenly interrupted – thankfully – by Gem. “I'm able ta handle messes, Rafa, look at me. Look at me hair." Rafa let out a boyish sort of laugh at this comment, watching as Gem gestured at his long black mop. It was quite a humorous notion, he had to admit –there was definitely truth in his words. Rafa quite liked his hair, he was proud to admit. He was also was a bit relieved, seeing as Gem held a more cordial air. "I hope ya have fun readin' about me emotions, cos' they're all over tha place,” he told Rafa. “Really, have fun readin' my chicken scratch handwriting." Rafa hadn’t really been registering Gem’s movements all that much, his focus mainly on the other boy’s face. He was quite surprised, though, when Gem’s notebook made its way into his hands. He took it rather carefully, his eyes scanning the cover in a curious sort of way. "Don't forget ta return it, okay? Every night. It'll give me an excuse ta see ya, anyways,” he heard Gem tell him a bit absently. "I'll even let ya write in it, little notes. Only if ya want, though, y'know."
A coy sort of grin snuck its way onto his features, and he bit his lip for a second. “Maybe I will,” he said in a joking way, offering a little shrug. He quickly, albeit carefully, slipped it into his back pocket, out of sight. It would be a real shame to have it taken back in second thought. It made him feel a little greedy, if he were honest, but he quickly justified his impulses. Really, he was quite looking forward to reading Gem’s writing. It would be especially handy on the nights where he couldn’t sleep – he had Gem to thank for that, he supposed. But he wouldn’t complain too much. He looked at the Ravenclaw, this time more somberly. “Thanks,” he added, a more genuine look on his face. “I’ll take care of it. You got my word.” He put one of his hands on his heart, the other one held up to his head, palm facing outwards. Formalities aside, he took this moment to so graciously wiggle his eyebrows, struggling to keep his face neutral.
It was a bit hard to explain, the sudden impulse he got. But he had thought about it quite a lot, and he really didn’t want to go out making assumptions. He relaxed his arms at his side, a pondering sort of look on his face. “Hey, you celebrate Christmas?” he asked Gem, his forehead all scrunched up in a thoughtful way, and his head cocked to the side. In hindsight, he realized that he had gone about his reconnaissance a bit tactfully. He didn’t dwell on this too much, however. He had a good feeling that he knew the answer.
"Yeh, pointillism. When ya make a drawin' wiv a bunch'a little dots. Really time consumin' but gorgeous."
Rafa still wasn’t too sure about what exactly this ‘pointillism’ was – it definitely had an intriguing sound to it, that was for sure. How people used dots to make art, he would surely never know. Though, he did know better than anyone what humans were capable of, given the situation. The thought put an intrigued look on his face, his curiosity only burning more. He would definitely need to look this up the first chance he got – most likely during Christmas Break, he reasoned, when his phone was working again.
He decidedly pushed this thought from his head for the moment, however, as Gem had started telling him more about this Oscar Wilde fellow. True to his first assessment, the guy was a poet – this gave him a bit of a smug feeling on the inside, one that he was sure to keep to himself. Though, he felt a bit miffed that he had missed the storywriter bit – weren’t the two hand in hand? Should he even be agonizing himself over such menial things? “You know me cat, Basil?” Gem asked him. “Orange fat bastard?” Any train of thought Rafa once had had surely wrecked at this point, a grin growing on his features. The cat that had nearly gave Gem – and by default, everyone else – a heart attack at their last Thunderbirds meeting? One would have to hit his head pretty damn hard to forget something like that. Of course I remember that ruddy cat, he thought amusedly. “I named him after Basil Hallward, and me friend
--"In the midst of his conversation, Gem had sort of paused. It seemed as if a shadow had fallen over his features. This definitely got Rafa’s inward wheels spinning in overdrive – he tucked his lip between his teeth in a worried sort of way, carefully looking over his boyfriend’s face. If there was one thing that really got under his skin, it was seeing Gem upset. He didn’t say anything, though, his face holding a careful gaze, and his tongue steeled. People didn't like when you butted around in their personal life. It wasn't any of his business - if it was, he'd hear about it from Gem. "Cat, this girl
," his boyfriend continued, "we named em' after... we named them after uh, the characters, in the book. They were lovers, I fink. It's heavily implied, anyway. Cos' uh, it... it was the book that got Oscar exiled for being gay, so... yeh, um.""Sounds like a good read, that’s for damn sure,” he commented easily. He had forced his smile back on his face with practiced ease, the sort Diego had taught him to maintain in difficult situations. Not that it was really necessary, or anything. He just really hated leaving the air this tense – it was one of those things that really got under his skin. He really hadn’t planned out what to say this far, but he was already ankle-deep, so he figured he’d go on - not that he was faking his interest. No, that was definitely real. “Basil…. What book was that? I might just check it out.”
Gem had a style about him, Rafa realized just about them. He had never noticed it before, but for some reason, now it was more apparent than ever. His hair, his slightly unkempt clothing. The classics, and poems. The instruments. His poetic words and just… strangely perfect sort of personality. Rafa felt rather stupid, not having noticed all of this as a whole. It was quite special, he realized. He wasn’t sure he had ever met anyone quite like Gem. He was definitely an original, genuine sort of fellow. Rafa wasn’t sure there was anything more to say about it really. He looked over Gem in a strange, searching way, almost as if he had discovered something he had never seen. Thinking about it gave him a bubbly feeling, one that just made his grin all the more real.
"An- anyway, good!” His thoughts were suddenly interrupted – thankfully – by Gem. “I'm able ta handle messes, Rafa, look at me. Look at me hair." Rafa let out a boyish sort of laugh at this comment, watching as Gem gestured at his long black mop. It was quite a humorous notion, he had to admit –there was definitely truth in his words. Rafa quite liked his hair, he was proud to admit. He was also was a bit relieved, seeing as Gem held a more cordial air. "I hope ya have fun readin' about me emotions, cos' they're all over tha place,” he told Rafa. “Really, have fun readin' my chicken scratch handwriting." Rafa hadn’t really been registering Gem’s movements all that much, his focus mainly on the other boy’s face. He was quite surprised, though, when Gem’s notebook made its way into his hands. He took it rather carefully, his eyes scanning the cover in a curious sort of way. "Don't forget ta return it, okay? Every night. It'll give me an excuse ta see ya, anyways,” he heard Gem tell him a bit absently. "I'll even let ya write in it, little notes. Only if ya want, though, y'know."
A coy sort of grin snuck its way onto his features, and he bit his lip for a second. “Maybe I will,” he said in a joking way, offering a little shrug. He quickly, albeit carefully, slipped it into his back pocket, out of sight. It would be a real shame to have it taken back in second thought. It made him feel a little greedy, if he were honest, but he quickly justified his impulses. Really, he was quite looking forward to reading Gem’s writing. It would be especially handy on the nights where he couldn’t sleep – he had Gem to thank for that, he supposed. But he wouldn’t complain too much. He looked at the Ravenclaw, this time more somberly. “Thanks,” he added, a more genuine look on his face. “I’ll take care of it. You got my word.” He put one of his hands on his heart, the other one held up to his head, palm facing outwards. Formalities aside, he took this moment to so graciously wiggle his eyebrows, struggling to keep his face neutral.
It was a bit hard to explain, the sudden impulse he got. But he had thought about it quite a lot, and he really didn’t want to go out making assumptions. He relaxed his arms at his side, a pondering sort of look on his face. “Hey, you celebrate Christmas?” he asked Gem, his forehead all scrunched up in a thoughtful way, and his head cocked to the side. In hindsight, he realized that he had gone about his reconnaissance a bit tactfully. He didn’t dwell on this too much, however. He had a good feeling that he knew the answer.
Posts will be slower this time of year, due to crazy shit and family flying in from who knows where.Merry Christmas, Bruh.
I probably haven't collected my allowance yet.
30 Dec 2019, 08:08
the art of being a slag
@Rafael D'SpacitoGem wasn't entirely sure how he felt about departing with his most dear inanimate possession, but he felt as if it were in safe hands. Even so, he had... his whole life in there, his every thought, tick, quirk-- whether it was his own, or someone else's. Maybe Rafa would think he was a freak, not that he had... freak material in there, but it was a worry. Maybe he was too emotional, or too corny, or maybe he didn't articulate his feelings well enough.
It took him a moment to collect himself and remember Rafael wasn't a terrible person.
"Yeh, I celebrate Christmas - kind ov? It's a bit weird, we don' really get each other gifts - me family, I mean - we jus' hang out, play music, an' eat. Maybeh get a listen ov me dad's record, if he's eve workin' on one, you know?" He began to tap his foot, a mindless tick whenever he drifted off. "Ah- and you? Do you lot celebrate Christmas? Gifts an' all?"
It reminded him, or, sort of hit him like a bus, that he needed to wrap up Rafa's gift. He'd been procrastinating like crazy all of a sudden, it made him anxious all over again. Tucking some brown hair behind his ear, he smiled, hiding the fact he'd had a jarring realization just about a second ago.
"I've got you a gift, but I can't tell ya what it is, or else you'll... uh-" He sucked his cheeks in, scratching the side of his head sheepishly. "You'll... die. You'll die a horrible death. Yer boggart will eat ya. Whole. Or somefin'. But joost so ya know, you've got somethin' ta look forward to."
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.
31 Dec 2019, 16:37
the art of being a slag
@Gem Stuart
"Yeh, I celebrate Christmas - kind ov?”
That got Rafa going for a moment. How do you kind-of celebrate Christmas? The idea gave Rafa a bit of a sick feeling, one whose origins he may not ever be able to pinpoint. “It's a bit weird,” his boyfriend elaborated, completely taking his attention. “We don' really get each other gifts - me family, I mean - we jus' hang out, play music, an' eat. Maybeh get a listen ov me dad's record, if he's eve workin' on one, you know?" No presents? That sounded quite different, he would admit. Perhaps it wasn’t a bad thing, though – it would definitely limit selfish expectations. As hard as it was to do, he wasn’t sure he would ever be able to shake the memories of his little cousins’ crying, in disappointment over gifts. Sure, they didn’t understand, but that didn’t justify anything. It just put a damper on festivities. Besides, receiving gifts had never been the real meaning behind Christmas. It had always been the getting together with family, and the memories of all the shenanigan the boys got into each year.
He subconsciously noticed a tapping noise – he looked down, taking note of Gem’s tapping foot. It was rather cute, he’d admit. Ge had a lot of little quirks, but there wasn’t a single one that was repulsive. It was always rather nice, seeing someone with such real features as such. It was much easier to relate to people that way. Though, he would never deny that Gem was perfect. Not to a single person.
"Ah- and you? Do you lot celebrate Christmas? Gifts an' all?" Gem asked him.
“Ah, yeah,” Rafa replied, a nostalgic smile falling over his features. “We do Christmas. Actually, most of our family bonding happens during this time of year.” He looked over at Gem, his face bright with memories. “Lots of gift-giving, and the lot. We have so many people in the house, we usually just do Dirty Santa. You could Floo over sometime, I could show you…”
He trailed off a bit, his mind taken by the little smile on Gem’s face. God, he loved Gem’s smile. "I've got you a gift,” the other boy told Rafa, “but I can't tell ya what it is, or else you'll... uh-" he sort of paused, scratching the side of his head. "You'll... die. You'll die a horrible death. Yer boggart will eat ya. Whole. Or somefin'. But joost so ya know, you've got somethin' ta look forward to."
“Ooh, terrifying,” Rafa said with a grin. Gem’s sense of humor was a rare type, one of the lovely things about him. His statement reminded Rafa of his own gift to Gem, sitting on his bed. He had just received it by owl, having had it shipped all the way from his home. “Well, that’s probably for the best,” he stated with a shrug, a nonchalant look on his face. “Because, I got you something, too. I would tell you what it was, but if I did, I’d have to kill you.” He made a gun with one of his hands, supporting it on his other forearm. Aiming at an imaginary target in front of him, he shot it off with a little sound effect. Then, holding his palms up, he shrugged, kind of in a ‘whoops’ way. “So, you gotta wait. Sorry, man.”
He grinned a bit at the end, signifying that it was a joke. Obviously, of course. Actually, he was quite excited to give his gift to Gem. Granted, he still had a bunch of wrapping to. Though, part of him was a bit insecure – he wasn’t even sure if Gem would even like it all that much, given that it was second hand and all. Though he would remain optimistic. The look on his face, a pondering sort of gaze, was soon replaced with a rather bright look. “The season is really sneaking up on us, eh?” he added, ever the conversationalist. “I assume you’re going home for the holidays? Not staying around in this smelly old place?”
"Yeh, I celebrate Christmas - kind ov?”
That got Rafa going for a moment. How do you kind-of celebrate Christmas? The idea gave Rafa a bit of a sick feeling, one whose origins he may not ever be able to pinpoint. “It's a bit weird,” his boyfriend elaborated, completely taking his attention. “We don' really get each other gifts - me family, I mean - we jus' hang out, play music, an' eat. Maybeh get a listen ov me dad's record, if he's eve workin' on one, you know?" No presents? That sounded quite different, he would admit. Perhaps it wasn’t a bad thing, though – it would definitely limit selfish expectations. As hard as it was to do, he wasn’t sure he would ever be able to shake the memories of his little cousins’ crying, in disappointment over gifts. Sure, they didn’t understand, but that didn’t justify anything. It just put a damper on festivities. Besides, receiving gifts had never been the real meaning behind Christmas. It had always been the getting together with family, and the memories of all the shenanigan the boys got into each year.
He subconsciously noticed a tapping noise – he looked down, taking note of Gem’s tapping foot. It was rather cute, he’d admit. Ge had a lot of little quirks, but there wasn’t a single one that was repulsive. It was always rather nice, seeing someone with such real features as such. It was much easier to relate to people that way. Though, he would never deny that Gem was perfect. Not to a single person.
"Ah- and you? Do you lot celebrate Christmas? Gifts an' all?" Gem asked him.
“Ah, yeah,” Rafa replied, a nostalgic smile falling over his features. “We do Christmas. Actually, most of our family bonding happens during this time of year.” He looked over at Gem, his face bright with memories. “Lots of gift-giving, and the lot. We have so many people in the house, we usually just do Dirty Santa. You could Floo over sometime, I could show you…”
He trailed off a bit, his mind taken by the little smile on Gem’s face. God, he loved Gem’s smile. "I've got you a gift,” the other boy told Rafa, “but I can't tell ya what it is, or else you'll... uh-" he sort of paused, scratching the side of his head. "You'll... die. You'll die a horrible death. Yer boggart will eat ya. Whole. Or somefin'. But joost so ya know, you've got somethin' ta look forward to."
“Ooh, terrifying,” Rafa said with a grin. Gem’s sense of humor was a rare type, one of the lovely things about him. His statement reminded Rafa of his own gift to Gem, sitting on his bed. He had just received it by owl, having had it shipped all the way from his home. “Well, that’s probably for the best,” he stated with a shrug, a nonchalant look on his face. “Because, I got you something, too. I would tell you what it was, but if I did, I’d have to kill you.” He made a gun with one of his hands, supporting it on his other forearm. Aiming at an imaginary target in front of him, he shot it off with a little sound effect. Then, holding his palms up, he shrugged, kind of in a ‘whoops’ way. “So, you gotta wait. Sorry, man.”
He grinned a bit at the end, signifying that it was a joke. Obviously, of course. Actually, he was quite excited to give his gift to Gem. Granted, he still had a bunch of wrapping to. Though, part of him was a bit insecure – he wasn’t even sure if Gem would even like it all that much, given that it was second hand and all. Though he would remain optimistic. The look on his face, a pondering sort of gaze, was soon replaced with a rather bright look. “The season is really sneaking up on us, eh?” he added, ever the conversationalist. “I assume you’re going home for the holidays? Not staying around in this smelly old place?”
I probably haven't collected my allowance yet.
2 Jan 2020, 02:03
the art of being a slag
@Rafael D'SpacitoWith a scrunch of his nose, Gem nudged Rafa's shoulder with a playful air, shaking his head as if to downgrade whatever threat he'd just popped out.
"I s'ppose we've both got wands pointed at each other's chests, then, aye?" He mused, "whatever... " With a shift in his weight, he knocked his head against Rafa's chest, sort of muffling his speech from there. If there was one thing Gem loved more than writing, it had to have been physical affection. It was still weird to him, due to the fact that most of his life was spent at arms-length with both parents, but this? This was nice, and he'd gotten used to it incredibly quickly.
"Naw, not goin' home. Goin' ta Wales, cos me dad said he wanted me ta help him wiv the record and stuff, guitar..." He exhaled, looking up at his boyfriend with a fond grin, maybe a bit sad. "You'll write me, won't yeh? I can't stay in Wales wivout some kinda entertainment... dunno what yer even supposed ta do there. Look at tha sea, eat fish, walk around even though there inn't nuffin' there? Ugh..." He groaned, sulking and putting on the very best show he could for a comical effect.
"I guess I won't be doin' very mooch outside the studio, since me hands will be all fooked up cos of all te guitar playin' I'll be doin'. Me dad's a real perfectionist, dunno why he wanted me ta play some parts. Maybe he was jokin', I don't know..." He unhinged himself from his boyfriend, leaning back against the wall with a reluctant huff.
"And you? What're yer plans for Christmas, aye? Lots'a family, huh?"
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.
2 Jan 2020, 19:24
the art of being a slag
@Gem Stuart
"I s'ppose we've both got wands pointed at each other's chests, then, aye?"
“Suppose so,” Rafa retorted with a gentle smile on his face. This banter was nice. Calming, even. It was always nice to talk to Gem, whether the conversation was deep or just small-talk. He was rather good company. It took him a moment to register that Gem leaned into him, his head on Rafa’s chest. It felt rather nice – he unconsciously snaked his arms around his boyfriend’s shoulders, basking in Gem’s glow. Gem was really the only person he liked to hug, or touch in general. It had always been an irrelevant feeling, given his upbringing, but he was growing more and more comfortable with it as the days passed.
“Nah,” he replied with a grin, in answer to Gem’s question. Though, he noticed it was just a bit forced. “No, I’ll be here.” He withdrew one of his arms to rub his neck, his eyes looking at the ceiling in a sort of pondering way. “Jo needs my help with something. Lots of shady things going on around here, you know?” He was referring to all the activity surrounding Potter trial and Lear’s sudden disappearance, of course. With all the information the two of them were sitting on, it would be selfish to leave. “Guess I am a bit disappointed, if I’m honest,” he admitted. “But, I’m sure I won’t be too missed. Probably more peaceful here, anyways.” He brightened up a bit at that last comment – Diego was already shipping in the corny Christmas owls. Jesus. He could only imagine the havoc being wreaked in his poor home.
“And what are you going on about?” he added, a playful look now on his features. “Of course, I’ll write you. Are you mental or something?” He grinned brightly at the other boy, gently planting a kiss on his forehead. He then remembered a comment Gem had previously made – Gem’s playing for his dad? “You know, for the record, I find it incredibly sexy that you’re recording on your dad’s track.” It was true – Gem was the only one he knew that would have the talent to pull something like that. Supposedly. It seemed strange that he still didn’t know the extent of Gem’s guitar skills – he definitely hadn’t forgotten about them. “When are you going to play guitar for me?” he asked in a friendly sort of way.
"I s'ppose we've both got wands pointed at each other's chests, then, aye?"
“Suppose so,” Rafa retorted with a gentle smile on his face. This banter was nice. Calming, even. It was always nice to talk to Gem, whether the conversation was deep or just small-talk. He was rather good company. It took him a moment to register that Gem leaned into him, his head on Rafa’s chest. It felt rather nice – he unconsciously snaked his arms around his boyfriend’s shoulders, basking in Gem’s glow. Gem was really the only person he liked to hug, or touch in general. It had always been an irrelevant feeling, given his upbringing, but he was growing more and more comfortable with it as the days passed.
“Nah,” he replied with a grin, in answer to Gem’s question. Though, he noticed it was just a bit forced. “No, I’ll be here.” He withdrew one of his arms to rub his neck, his eyes looking at the ceiling in a sort of pondering way. “Jo needs my help with something. Lots of shady things going on around here, you know?” He was referring to all the activity surrounding Potter trial and Lear’s sudden disappearance, of course. With all the information the two of them were sitting on, it would be selfish to leave. “Guess I am a bit disappointed, if I’m honest,” he admitted. “But, I’m sure I won’t be too missed. Probably more peaceful here, anyways.” He brightened up a bit at that last comment – Diego was already shipping in the corny Christmas owls. Jesus. He could only imagine the havoc being wreaked in his poor home.
“And what are you going on about?” he added, a playful look now on his features. “Of course, I’ll write you. Are you mental or something?” He grinned brightly at the other boy, gently planting a kiss on his forehead. He then remembered a comment Gem had previously made – Gem’s playing for his dad? “You know, for the record, I find it incredibly sexy that you’re recording on your dad’s track.” It was true – Gem was the only one he knew that would have the talent to pull something like that. Supposedly. It seemed strange that he still didn’t know the extent of Gem’s guitar skills – he definitely hadn’t forgotten about them. “When are you going to play guitar for me?” he asked in a friendly sort of way.
I probably haven't collected my allowance yet.
6 Jan 2020, 23:47
the art of being a slag
@Rafael D'SpacitoMaybe he felt a bit out of the loop when it came to stuff happening, but even as he'd seen that coming, he wondered to himself if he should even know what was happening. That consideration made him want to start interrogating Rafa, which maybe... wasn't the best option, seeing as their Headmaster had gone poof. Maybe he'd ask him over an owl during break, or... something, but he was anxious about it all of a sudden. It didn't show, but he was concerned about Rafa's wellbeing.
"I wish I could stay," He exhaled, chewing the inside of his cheek. "I would've hoped that- eugh, well, if ya need help wiv anythin'? Research? Let me know, me dad's owl is fast." He offered a tight-lipped smile, squeezing his eyes shut for a brief moment, only as long as the peck on his forehead lasted.
"I find it incredibly sexy that yer findin' out what e' hell is goin' on 'round this school. Guess we're both pretty sexy, aye?" He winked, looking down at his shoes for a moment, all the scribbling he'd done on them over the months he'd been there. He even scrawled Rafa's name somewhere on them, but he was sure it had near faded now. "I will! I will, I promise, I joost... I need ta find the right song. I'll be damned if I'm playin' you Wonderwall or somefin'. It has ta be good, mean somefin'." He began to walk down the halls, finding a wall nearby to sit himself against - he'd gotten tired of standing.
"What... what is happenin' at this school, anyway? I mean, shady stuff, but ya won't get hurt, right?" Hogwarts was a school that held back for no one, not a toddler, not an old person, and certainly not an eleven year old boy.
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.
7 Jan 2020, 18:26
the art of being a slag
@Gem Stuart
[font=Segoe Print]"I wish I could stay.”
It seemed a bit ironic that Gem would say that – it was as if their opinions were polar opposites. Not that it was a bad thing, or anything. He supposed that he was a bit jealous of Gem, getting to see different parts of the lovely country – but for a person who had resided there for a while, and was familiar with all the sights, he supposed it could get quite boring. He was also familiar with Gem’s family situation – at least, as much as Gem had told him. So, Rafa could relate. He listened with bright eyes, his mouth tucked in a wry line. “I would've hoped that- eugh, well, if ya need help wiv anythin'?” Gem told him. “Research? Let me know, me dad's owl is fast."
He would admit, it gave him a good feeling, knowing that Gem was open to helping – a lot of people had seemed to shy away from the issues going on around the school. It gave him a burst of confidence, knowing he had someone he could count on for help. Really, he knew he would most likely be needing his help soon. "Yeah, man,” he said, with a little smile. He played with the sleeves to his robes, his book nearly slipping out of his hand – he firmed his grip on them at the last second, the book safe. Returning his focus to the conversation, he said, “I’ll be sure to remember that.”
Gem continued on after that, throwing one of his own jokes right back at him. This made Rafa grin quite broadly, any skepticism towards circumstance leaving him in an instant. “Oh, yeah?” he said, an eyebrow raised in a joking manner. “I suppose we are, then.” He nudged Gem with his shoulder in a friendly fashion, his happy energy leaking through his demeanor. Then, the Ravenclaw began telling him about his music playing, and finding the right song, all the while finding a place to sit against. Rafa followed the other boy with careful feet, his bright look never fading. He chose to copy Gem, setting himself against the wall right next to the Ravenclaw. “Yeah, that’s cool,” he conceded with a little grin. “I’m looking forward to it greatly.”
"What... what is happenin' at this school, anyway?” Gem asked him. “I mean, shady stuff, but ya won't get hurt, right?"
“I wo-“ he started to say, but then stopped himself. He had never actually paused to ask himself that question – the entire time that he had been drawn toward his burning desire to solve a mystery, he may have been treading on pins and needles without even realizing it. “I don’t .. think so?” he said, a half grin on his face, his eyes furrowed thoughtfully and his hand on the back of his neck. “I mean, there are certain – I don’t know.” He conceded with that as a statement, before answering Gem’s first question. “It’s strange – Lear’s seemingly been wiped off the face of the earth, and all his pygmy-puffs are dead. But the funny thing is, I have a feeling that it all has to do with Potter’s mysterious trial.” He emphasized mysterious in a joking way, adding quotation marks with his fingers.
He wasn’t exactly sure if he should be telling Gem this. It was pretty important information, that was for sure, and he didn’t need anybody else getting wind of it. But, he had a feeling Gem was to be trusted – it wasn’t like he was going around, telling other people’s secrets. He had other reasons, too. Perhaps he can see something I can’t, he reasoned. He and Jo could interpret only so much, and they were far from Ravenclaws. Gem was, though, and a bright one at that. There was a good chance he could make some sense of the ever-growing riddle.
Rafa leaned in just a bit, a little skeptic towards others in the hall hearing. “While me and Jo were fucking around in the Headmaster’s office, we stumbled across some letters. It seems as if Lear was looking for a way to get Umbridge to safety in Hogwarts. They were – “ he gulped down a smirk. It would do no good to laugh at such a serious matter. “They were in love. That’s what their letters suggested, anyways. They also mentioned some kind of blood war – and there was a request for the Draught of Living Death.” He shrugged, glancing at Gem with a raised eyebrow. He was hopeful, but he knew better than to get his hopes up too high. “Can you make any sense of that?”[/font]
[font=Segoe Print]"I wish I could stay.”
It seemed a bit ironic that Gem would say that – it was as if their opinions were polar opposites. Not that it was a bad thing, or anything. He supposed that he was a bit jealous of Gem, getting to see different parts of the lovely country – but for a person who had resided there for a while, and was familiar with all the sights, he supposed it could get quite boring. He was also familiar with Gem’s family situation – at least, as much as Gem had told him. So, Rafa could relate. He listened with bright eyes, his mouth tucked in a wry line. “I would've hoped that- eugh, well, if ya need help wiv anythin'?” Gem told him. “Research? Let me know, me dad's owl is fast."
He would admit, it gave him a good feeling, knowing that Gem was open to helping – a lot of people had seemed to shy away from the issues going on around the school. It gave him a burst of confidence, knowing he had someone he could count on for help. Really, he knew he would most likely be needing his help soon. "Yeah, man,” he said, with a little smile. He played with the sleeves to his robes, his book nearly slipping out of his hand – he firmed his grip on them at the last second, the book safe. Returning his focus to the conversation, he said, “I’ll be sure to remember that.”
Gem continued on after that, throwing one of his own jokes right back at him. This made Rafa grin quite broadly, any skepticism towards circumstance leaving him in an instant. “Oh, yeah?” he said, an eyebrow raised in a joking manner. “I suppose we are, then.” He nudged Gem with his shoulder in a friendly fashion, his happy energy leaking through his demeanor. Then, the Ravenclaw began telling him about his music playing, and finding the right song, all the while finding a place to sit against. Rafa followed the other boy with careful feet, his bright look never fading. He chose to copy Gem, setting himself against the wall right next to the Ravenclaw. “Yeah, that’s cool,” he conceded with a little grin. “I’m looking forward to it greatly.”
"What... what is happenin' at this school, anyway?” Gem asked him. “I mean, shady stuff, but ya won't get hurt, right?"
“I wo-“ he started to say, but then stopped himself. He had never actually paused to ask himself that question – the entire time that he had been drawn toward his burning desire to solve a mystery, he may have been treading on pins and needles without even realizing it. “I don’t .. think so?” he said, a half grin on his face, his eyes furrowed thoughtfully and his hand on the back of his neck. “I mean, there are certain – I don’t know.” He conceded with that as a statement, before answering Gem’s first question. “It’s strange – Lear’s seemingly been wiped off the face of the earth, and all his pygmy-puffs are dead. But the funny thing is, I have a feeling that it all has to do with Potter’s mysterious trial.” He emphasized mysterious in a joking way, adding quotation marks with his fingers.
He wasn’t exactly sure if he should be telling Gem this. It was pretty important information, that was for sure, and he didn’t need anybody else getting wind of it. But, he had a feeling Gem was to be trusted – it wasn’t like he was going around, telling other people’s secrets. He had other reasons, too. Perhaps he can see something I can’t, he reasoned. He and Jo could interpret only so much, and they were far from Ravenclaws. Gem was, though, and a bright one at that. There was a good chance he could make some sense of the ever-growing riddle.
Rafa leaned in just a bit, a little skeptic towards others in the hall hearing. “While me and Jo were fucking around in the Headmaster’s office, we stumbled across some letters. It seems as if Lear was looking for a way to get Umbridge to safety in Hogwarts. They were – “ he gulped down a smirk. It would do no good to laugh at such a serious matter. “They were in love. That’s what their letters suggested, anyways. They also mentioned some kind of blood war – and there was a request for the Draught of Living Death.” He shrugged, glancing at Gem with a raised eyebrow. He was hopeful, but he knew better than to get his hopes up too high. “Can you make any sense of that?”[/font]
I probably haven't collected my allowance yet.
8 Jan 2020, 03:04
the art of being a slag
@Rafael D'SpacitoIt felt like Gem had been cracked on the back of the skull with a whip made of stone when Rafa actually elaborated. It already sounded fishy, the pigamy puffs, the potion, and the... romance.
"Duh-" He winced, his neck snapping back. "D...olores.. Umbridge?" If there was any other way to convey his confusion, disgust, and amusement in one look, he'd managed to do it. He'd had an unspoken respect for his Headmaster, but of all of the people in the world, he had the hots for Dolores Umbridge? That, not only own its very own sounded nauseating, but also suspicious. His hand came up to his chin, pinching it between his index and thumb, thinking silently.
If any of his reading did him well, he knew that the draught of living death and blood wars had a nasty connection, but it - it couldn't have been that, could it?
"Umbridge... she's - draught of liv-" He shook his head at his lap, his breath feeling heavy in his throat. They didn't have a lead, he didn't have a lead, but... "Well, you know about when Dolores - I mean, Umbridge- when she was e' headmaster? She's... quite suspicious of bein'... prejudiced, and rotten. I never thought that Lear ov all people could be... into that, it joost doesn't sound right." His hand trailed on the ground, tracing a crack down the middle.
"Do... Do you have an- wait, did'ja study e' handwriting?" It felt like a type of epiphany, a marvel of an idea. "No, really. It sounds silly, but- you've got to, does it match wiv Lear's? That's suspicious, isn't it? The whole- the whole situation is, yes, but really. Did ya find another letter of Lear's? Does it match? Would it even... make sense?" He rubbed the side of his face, chewing the inside of his cheek. "Was there anythin' else weird? Somethin'... un-Lear like?"
It wasn't at all that he didn't have faith in Rafael's ability to solve mysteries, he was smarter than he'd let on, but it seemed dangerous. Dead things- that was already creeping into territory he wasn't sure was quite right. This entire situation was so wrong, and he didn't have the full context - it was horribly unnerving, and if Rafa were to get hurt? That would send him into a bit of a frenzy.
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.
9 Jan 2020, 20:17
the art of being a slag
@Gem Stuart
[font=Segoe Print]Gem had seemed positively shocked at the idea of Lear and Umbridge ever being together. It hadn’t been far off from Rafa’s initial response – right there, in the middle of the office, amidst Jo, the last Greg, and a magic desk, he had very anti-climatically burst into a fit of laughter. The idea of such a wise man loving such a haggard, disgusting woman sounded absolutely outrageous. He almost hadn’t believed it – it had taken a lot of convincing, in the least. He and Jo had taken time to review the letters, though – the handwriting matched that of Lear’s perfectly. “It’s definitely Lear’s,” he answered Gem’s question, a wry smile on his face. He was really having a hard time hiding is feelings on the matter right about now, the humor leaking into his demeanor. “Me and Jo double-checked – it’s a bit hard to wrap your head around, isn’t it?”
"Was there anythin' else weird? Somethin'... un-Lear like?"
It was definitely a good question to ask. There were many off things about the situation, the clues amounting like bricks to a house. Rafa turned a little closer to Gem, ever suspicious. “Well, for one, the sorting hat was gone. Completely poof,” he stated, counting on his finger. “There was this ring of dust where it used to be – me and Jo think it was taken recently. All the pictures were down, too. The door had been broken into, so the frame was all messed up.” He continued to think for relevant clues, for Gem’s sake – his brow was furrowed in concentration, his lip bit.
After a moment, his thoughts uncovered another forgotten fact. “Well, the letters we found, they were sealed in his desk,” he added, a pondering tone to his voice. It didn’t seem like a strange thing to say, Rafa realized, as most wise teachers locked their desks. He’d better elaborate, then. “The desk… it split itself in half, right down the middle. Kept on magically closing, every time you split it in half – kind of like a magnet? While Jo was looking in the fireplace, I kinda..” he thought for the right words, taking his index finger and pointing it upwards “..wedged myself, between the halves to keep them from closing. There was a secret apartment somewhere in that mess, and the letters were hidden inside. Seemed like he was trying to hide them, or something. Which makes sense – if I were in love with an ugly old hag with a criminal record, I wouldn’t want anyone to find out either.”
There was one more thing that seemed of significant importance. “Oh, there was this one thing. The last letter addressed to Umbridge, it had been written backwards, and in all capitals. There had only been four words, save for the introduction and his signature.” He took a moment to recall the words, as he hadn’t looked at the pieces of paper in a while – specifically, to preserve their quality should they ever be needed for evidence. “Evil Blood War. Hag,” he recited, his syllables uneven and his tone way too kind to be carrying such dangerous words. “That’s what they had said, I believe. Definitely strange, don’t you think?”
Now that the thought had been brought into question, his mind began to spiral into possibilities. Such a man would never write words in such a crude manner, not unless there was something serious going on. It seemed strange that he would go from loving the woman to hating her in one letter, that was for sure, and it seemed a rushed message. If he had the time, why not write more? It seemed as if they weren’t supposed to stumble upon such a message – they had learned that quickly after being threatened with an ogre attack by a mysterious letter. For some reason, the letter was growing in importance in his mind. Perhaps Gem will be able to make something of it, he thought. And, hopefully so, or his sleep would surely be threatened once again by his thoughts.[/font]
[font=Segoe Print]Gem had seemed positively shocked at the idea of Lear and Umbridge ever being together. It hadn’t been far off from Rafa’s initial response – right there, in the middle of the office, amidst Jo, the last Greg, and a magic desk, he had very anti-climatically burst into a fit of laughter. The idea of such a wise man loving such a haggard, disgusting woman sounded absolutely outrageous. He almost hadn’t believed it – it had taken a lot of convincing, in the least. He and Jo had taken time to review the letters, though – the handwriting matched that of Lear’s perfectly. “It’s definitely Lear’s,” he answered Gem’s question, a wry smile on his face. He was really having a hard time hiding is feelings on the matter right about now, the humor leaking into his demeanor. “Me and Jo double-checked – it’s a bit hard to wrap your head around, isn’t it?”
"Was there anythin' else weird? Somethin'... un-Lear like?"
It was definitely a good question to ask. There were many off things about the situation, the clues amounting like bricks to a house. Rafa turned a little closer to Gem, ever suspicious. “Well, for one, the sorting hat was gone. Completely poof,” he stated, counting on his finger. “There was this ring of dust where it used to be – me and Jo think it was taken recently. All the pictures were down, too. The door had been broken into, so the frame was all messed up.” He continued to think for relevant clues, for Gem’s sake – his brow was furrowed in concentration, his lip bit.
After a moment, his thoughts uncovered another forgotten fact. “Well, the letters we found, they were sealed in his desk,” he added, a pondering tone to his voice. It didn’t seem like a strange thing to say, Rafa realized, as most wise teachers locked their desks. He’d better elaborate, then. “The desk… it split itself in half, right down the middle. Kept on magically closing, every time you split it in half – kind of like a magnet? While Jo was looking in the fireplace, I kinda..” he thought for the right words, taking his index finger and pointing it upwards “..wedged myself, between the halves to keep them from closing. There was a secret apartment somewhere in that mess, and the letters were hidden inside. Seemed like he was trying to hide them, or something. Which makes sense – if I were in love with an ugly old hag with a criminal record, I wouldn’t want anyone to find out either.”
There was one more thing that seemed of significant importance. “Oh, there was this one thing. The last letter addressed to Umbridge, it had been written backwards, and in all capitals. There had only been four words, save for the introduction and his signature.” He took a moment to recall the words, as he hadn’t looked at the pieces of paper in a while – specifically, to preserve their quality should they ever be needed for evidence. “Evil Blood War. Hag,” he recited, his syllables uneven and his tone way too kind to be carrying such dangerous words. “That’s what they had said, I believe. Definitely strange, don’t you think?”
Now that the thought had been brought into question, his mind began to spiral into possibilities. Such a man would never write words in such a crude manner, not unless there was something serious going on. It seemed strange that he would go from loving the woman to hating her in one letter, that was for sure, and it seemed a rushed message. If he had the time, why not write more? It seemed as if they weren’t supposed to stumble upon such a message – they had learned that quickly after being threatened with an ogre attack by a mysterious letter. For some reason, the letter was growing in importance in his mind. Perhaps Gem will be able to make something of it, he thought. And, hopefully so, or his sleep would surely be threatened once again by his thoughts.[/font]
I probably haven't collected my allowance yet.