11 Apr 2020, 00:21
Glass House
A letter from home. Mother’s fragrance laced in between each word. Something to look forward to at the very least. Perhaps that is why so many gathered here during the weekends. To communicate outside of the castle, to drop the shroud of awe and magic, and remember your roots. Where you came from.
As for Francis? His roots were lovingly tight. And when he retrieved the letter from the family owl, he could feel his mother’s solicitous arms around him once more. It was the kind of comfort he needed every now and again. That, he knew for sure.
A Hufflepuff, certainly older than him, shares the Owlery with him. A face he couldn’t recognise, but friendly enough that he wanted to engage his conversation. Really, he couldn’t help himself.
“Mum won’t stop writing to me,” he says, waving the letter in protest, “but I suppose it’s a good thing, really.” A breezy laugh trickles out of the corners of his lips. He wasn’t one to share the intimate details. No one wants to hear about how much you miss your mum.
He lowers the letter slowly during the beat of silence that follows.
“I’m Frank,” another beat, the flap of a departing owl’s wings, “by the way.”
Last edited by Francis Witherell on 13 Apr 2020, 02:53, edited 1 time in total.
11 Apr 2020, 00:48
Glass House
Sincerely.... No. From.... No. Best wishes? No. These were all too formal!
Rosie was writing a letter to her stepdad, which was a big deal. She never wrote letters to him, only letters to her dad, or her baby brother. Who couldn't read, so her dad had to read for him. But now that she actually liked her stepdad, she wanted to send him letters. But she was having a hard time on how to end it. The beginning, middle, even the last sentence! But it was the send off that was keeping her stuck at the table. Her owl waited impatiently, and her cat Magnus sat on the table next to her.
She didn't even notice the boy speak up at first, until she lifted her head and realized he was looking at her. She laughed a bit along with him, smiling at him with a nod. "Yeah, definitely. Though usually I'm the one sending out letters, my dads are pretty busy, and my brother doesn't even know how to write, so.." She had ended up rambling a bit. Unlike Francis, Rosie couldn't keep her mouth shut about the details of her family.
She stared at her letter for a few more seconds, before glancing up upon hearing the owl fly away. Rosie turned a bit to look at him, lightly tapping her pen against the table. But regardless, she sported a small smile. She patted Magnus' head as she answered. "Rosie, it's nice to meet you." She said, watching the owl fly off. "Do you write to her often?" She asked, still thinking about how to send off her letter.
STAMINA 13 // EVASION 13 // STRENGTH 6 // WISDOM 6 // ARCANE POWER 9 // ACCURACY 8
13 Apr 2020, 02:53
Glass House
Francis often forgot how lucky he was to have a pair of loving parents. If he was a house, then they were his foundation. Walls built with adoration, strong enough to withstand the strongest of blustering winds. It was far more important than he could have imagined but how was he to know? He didn’t know any different. It was all that he knew. And perhaps that was the beauty of it.
“Oh,” he says, taken aback by the tidal wave of information, “well that’s nice of you anyway. I never know what to write, you know? It’s the quill, I think. Makes it feel fancier than it is. Makes you feel like you have to write loads. You know what I mean?” The rambling was endearing if anything. It showed a sense of pride and comfort. He was envious that he didn’t have the same traits. Perhaps it was something to do with age. Everything was these days.
“Rosie, that’s a nice name!” She seemed to be struggling with something, and a compliment of even the lightest kind seemed to lift the lowest of spirits. “As often as I can, which usually means as often as she needs me to,” he laughs, still realising he is holding onto the letter. He quickly slots it into one of the inner pockets of his robe.
“How about you?”
13 Apr 2020, 17:23
Glass House
Rosie couldn't help but laugh at the comment about the quill. She understood the feeling a little too well. If she didn't have the right quill in her hand, writing proved to be unnecessarily difficult. She was just weird like that. Quirky, cool, and different. It's what she liked to describe herself as, Reid hated it. But back on the point, quills were nice, and Rosie liked to appreciate that. If only the feeling of writing could help her with how to send off this damn letter. "No, I get it. I get that way about them. Makes me wanna write more. Though, unfortunately, it doesn't always help me with what I want to say." She sighed. "I dunno how to send off this letter." Rosie complained, her bottom lip poking out a bit in a pout.
She smiled at the name compliment. It wasn't typical she got a compliment on her name, the last time was probably Elijah. She missed that boy, he was very sweet to her in a time where she just needed someone to be nice to her. But she trailed off that thought. "Thank you, your name's nice too." She replied, leaning her chin on her hand. "If I was younger, I'd probably go right to calling you Frankie. But I learned the hard way that not every nickname goes through." She laughed, shrugging.
When he asked if she wrote often, she nodded without hesitation. "Oh yeah, I write to my dad all the time. I even write to my little brother so he read through my life when I'm older. But today I'm writing to my step-dad. And I've never done that before, so I'm struggling with how I wanna sign myself off." She sighed.
STAMINA 13 // EVASION 13 // STRENGTH 6 // WISDOM 6 // ARCANE POWER 9 // ACCURACY 8