lovely morning PV Mars T'ien

Waking was all too easy for once in their life. Mars blinked owlishly at the morning light streaming through the tall windows of the dorms. It was too quiet, far too quiet. They knew they'd miss their brothers, but this homesickness was nothing they ever could have imagined.

Groaning, they rolled out of bed, landing on their feet to the side of the blue sheets. The sight of the shimmering rainbow butterflies on their new guitar easied the heartache just a little. They'd been messing around with the strings, trying various plucking patterns, emulating what they could remember of the skilled guitarist in the store. It was slow going but peaceful, rewarding, something to fill the silence for just a moment longer.

Sighing, they stretched and padded over to the chest that held their spare robes and miscellaneous goods. Feeling around, Mars pulled a couple of clean robes out of the chest and then headed off to the shower to get dressed.

---

Again, they had decided to forego breakfast. There was something about eating in the morning that just made them nauseous. Instead, they clambered down the stairs, pulling the bottom door open to be hit with a wave of the fresh, crisp morning air. The courtyard was nearly empty, as it always was this time of day, everyone else chatting noisily around the long tables in the mess hall. But, there was a person sitting in the middle of the field, situated nicely in a patch of grass in the sun.

Green robes... a Slytherin. Huh. Mars had always assumed that Slytherins weren't morning people, nor were they people who traveled alone, and yet, there was a girl in green robes sitting alone in the courtyard. She had a journal and a thermos; Mars could see the steam rising out of the mug in the chilly air. Some part of Mars told them it was a bad idea to attempt social interaction at this hour, but the girl had already sparked their interest.

Walking closer, Mars could hear a faint humming coming from the girl. They had approached from behind, so it was easy to read over her shoulder.

"What I should be is not who I am, what I am is who I am.'

Mars bit back a smile. How cute. That was not what they expected from the journal of a Slytherin. Suddenly, the girl turned, slamming the journal closed.

"What are you doing?" she yelped.

"What do you think I'm doing?" Mars' tongue worked faster than their brain. "I'm reading over your shoulder."

Whoops. That was probably not the best way to go about starting a conversation, especially not at this time. The air seemed to still around them as Mars waited for a response.

Amara looks down for a few seconds and touches her cheek making sure that she remembered to put on makeup this morning before turning around and looking back at Mars, "You do realize how rude that is right?" Amara asks in an accusatory tone. As Amara awaits a response she takes a sip of tea and shoves her journal back into her bag. This journal contained some of her innermost thoughts and insecurities and Amara could not believe how poorly mannered her new companion was.

Before Amara can get to upset, she takes a breath and realizes that she could have come across rudely so Amara scoots over to make room for Mars and pats the ground offering them a spot to sit, "Sorry I snapped at you, I just..." Amara trails off not wanting to reveal any more and quickly finishes her statement, "Amara Dragamior by the way, you are?" Amara prays that she has not made an enemy and sips on her tea some more while staring at the lake. Amara enjoys being outside and finds a ton of inspiration by being near beautiful scenery. She smiles thinking about how in a few weeks, the students will be able to swim in the pristine, blue lake.

"You do realize how rude that is right?" the girl huffs, taking a sip of her tea and shoving her journal back into her bag.

Mars raises an eyebrow, about to retort, but all of a sudden, the girl seems to backtrack on herself. She takes a breath, then scoots over and pats the ground next to her.

"Sorry I snapped at you, I just..." she trails off, then restarts, "Amara Dragamior by the way, you are?" She looks away from Mars at that moment, taking a sip of her tea and turning her attention to the clear lake before them.

Mars has to smile a bit. What a peculiar girl. Amara, huh? A pretty name. They sit, legs outstretched and ankles crossed, leaning back onto the palms they plant in the ground behind them.

"Mars, Mars T'ien. Yes, like the planet." The Ravenclaw throws out carelessly. After a beat, they continue. "And I promise I don't make it a business creeping on other people's diaries or whatever it was. You just happened to be in my line of sight, is all. It's a cool quote, what you've got written there." The silence is still heavy and awkward around them. Mars sighs. They never were good at talking to normal people.

The Ravenclaw turns to study Amara's face. Careful eyes take in the small smile, an almost wistful expression spreading across the other girl's features. Following her gaze, Mars admires the crystal lake. It shimmers in the morning light, framed nicely by various foliage. A breeze sends goosebumps down both of Mars' arms. They shiver. The silence has been palpable for a while.

"It sure is beautiful this time of year, no? I'm not much of a swimmer, but it doesn't seem like such a terrible idea. Do you like to swim?" The most basic icebreaker question leaves Mars' lips. They grimace, then forget about it, turning back to the lake. The water reminds them of their brothers but then, in all honesty, everything does. Mars turns to study the girl again.

She seems lonely maybe, Mars can't say. There's just something about her.

"You know, I like it here well enough, but I've got people I miss back home." Mars pushes into the silence. "How 'bout you? Missing home?" For a second, Mars succeeds in asking a decent question. Then,

"I only ask because most well-adjusted people don't sit alone on the ground in a courtyard staring a lake during breakfast. And well, here we are."

Well, f*ck.

@Amara Dragamior

Amara's eyes harden and then soften again. She looks at Mars, studying them, Amara admires there primal honesty, even if it is somewhat insulting, "I like to consider myself well-adjusted, I just have never had a thing for eating with large groups of people", Amara retorts.

Amara sips on her tea looking down at her lap, it isn't like she lied. Amara has adjusted to her classes and sleeping in a dorm just not the social atmosphere, and she does hate eating in front of people. "And the 'quote' is- I think- going to be the last line in the epic I am writing so I'm glad you like it."

It takes Amara some time but she decides that she likes Mars, there is just something about them that makes Amara feel... unburdened she decides. It is almost like she can tell that the blunt eagle is carefree and fun-loving; a stereotypical Gryffindor. Amara smiles thinking about what some of her housemates would say if they knew that Amara was considering the idea of befriending one who wears silver and blue, but she does not care; it is not like the snakes pay any attention to her anyways, at least not enough to care about her friends.

Mars watches Amara's eyes shift from hard to soft at the drop of a hat. A smile, maybe even a small smirk, spreads across her face.

"I like to consider myself well-adjusted, I just have never had a thing for eating with large groups of people," is her response. Well, touché. Mars decides this one isn't so bad after all. Amara's gaze drops to her lap for a second, as if contemplating something, but the next, it's gone and the girl pushes on.

"And the 'quote' is- I think- going to be the last line in the epic I am writing so I'm glad you like it." Amara sips on her tea as she says this.

"An epic, huh?" Mars asks. "What's it gonna be about? Fancy yourself a creator of worlds?" If there's anything Mars likes about a person, it's definitely some aspect of creativity. It's... odd for a Slytherin maybe, but it isn't as if Mars ever gave a damn about houses and titles. People are people and if they're interesting.... well, they can learn to get along.

Mars grins at the girl in green, eyes flashing. It's nice to make a friend, fills some of the hole still digging itself into their chest. And hey, finding someone to tolerate them wasn't such a bad thing in the long run.

"An epic, huh?" Mars asks. "What's it gonna be about? Fancy yourself a creator of worlds?"

Amara passes the thermos to Mars as she snorts, "A creator of worlds, yeah no. My epic is not impressive in the least bit, it is just a retelling of a story my birth mother used to tell me when I was a baby"

Amara has never thought highly of her writing, she is not nearly as insecure about it as she is her dancing but that does not mean she flatters herself. Maybe part of the reason Amara was sorted into Slytherin instead of Ravenclaw was the fact that she can be overly critical (and cynical) which can make her a tad-bit unapproachable or even make Amara come off as rude. Amara likes that while Mars only saw a line of her poetry, they seemed to be honest about it. Anytime Amara tries to share her writing with adults or teachers, they just shrug her off like some kid and again; while she is not a perfect writer by any means, she knows that she is better than most first years. She smiles at Mars hoping they do not find her critical side to be too self-deprecating because Amara would hate for this to turn into a therapy session.

Mars took the thermos from Adara's offering hands. It was effective, obviously, because steam still rose from the hot tea within. Gingerly, they took a sip. It was better than they expected.

"A creator of worlds, yeah no. My epic is not impressive in the least bit, it is just a retelling of a story my birth mother used to tell me when I was a baby," Adara replied. Mars smiled into the thermos.

"Ah, so your mother is the real mastermind here. You're just the scribe." Mars snickered a bit. "Kidding, kidding. I'm sure it's better than you give yourself credit for. I mean, if the rest of the thing is like the quote I saw before, it can't be half-bad. If you find the motivation to finish, maybe I can take a peek, no creeping this time, I promise."

Amara seemed to be lost in thought. The thermos was still a comfortable weight in Mars' hand, so they took another sip, waiting for her to come out of her stupor. The flavor was mellow, not drying like most other teas. They wondered if it had come from Hogwarts kitchens. They didn't think Hogwarts supplied thermoses, seeing as they were a very muggle invention, so Amara must have brought it from home. The tea on the other hand, well tea doesn't keep that long, even in the best thermos.

It was still quiet on Amara's end, so Mars continued the conversation themself.

"You call her your birth mother. Why not just mom or mother or something like that?" they asked. Then, they realized how personal a question that was and most people would not like spilling life secrets to a person they had met maybe 10 minutes prior.

"Or... you could tell me about yourself. What are your hobbies? Do you like your house? What's a perfectly normal girl doing sitting alone in a field in the morning? Feel free to answer any of the above." Mars screwed the lid back onto the thermos, closing it up tight before setting it on the grass between them, waiting for an answer.

@ Amara Dragamior

"Ah, so your mother is the real mastermind here. You're just the scribe." Mars snickered a bit

Amara tenses and shoots what she considers to be a wither glare at Mars, "So you do not think it takes skill to re-write a story in prose?" She hates talking about her birth mother, especially with someone who seems to think of it as a joke.

"You call her your birth mother. Why not just mom or mother or something like that?" they asked.

Amara sighed and shut her journal, "I call her my birth mother because other than that, she is nothing but a violent stranger" Amara tries her best to say this is a way that says 'I am done talking about this' and thankfully Mars lets it be.

"Or... you could tell me about yourself. What are your hobbies? Do you like your house? What's a perfectly normal girl doing sitting alone in a field in the morning? Feel free to answer any of the above." Mars screwed the lid back onto the thermos, closing it up tight before setting it on the grass between them, waiting for an answer.

Amara forces a smile back onto her face, "Well as you can tell or see, I am a poet and yeah I guess I like Slytherin"

Mars watched Amara's shoulders tense and she shot them a withering glare.

"So you do not think it takes skill to re-write a story in prose?" Hmm, so this one did have a backbone. Obviously some pride in her work too, to respond like that. Mars was glad for it. It made their new companion that much more interesting. But before Mars could respond, Amara shut the journal and continued on.

"I call her my birth mother because other than that, she is nothing but a violent stranger." Sensing the finality in her tone, Mars chose not to wonder any further. Thankfully, the awkward air vanished as the Slytherin put a smile back onto her face.

"Well as you can tell or see, I am a poet, and yeah I guess I like Slytherin," she finished. There was nothing in her eyes that told Mars otherwise, so they smiled. The house system was strange, maybe even edging on flawed, but it still created a sense of loyalty and companionship that was hard to deny. If only they felt a little bit more connected to Ravenclaw, then they might have been able to appreciate it a bit more.

But a poet. Mars' smile widened. Music and poetry went hand in hand, and if there was anything Mars enjoyed, it was music. A creeping sense of respect for the girl traveled up Mars' body.

Hogwarts grounds were nice in the morning. Surprisingly, for being at such a high altitude, it was rarely cold. They had always assumed that had something to do with magic. It was always clean, stones almost sparkling in the chiffon sun. They understood why Amara would come out here to write. There was something about fresh air that always invigorated the brain.

"I never said it didn't take skill." Mars retorted. "In ancient days, when only monks were given an education, being a scribe was incredibly well looked upon. Difficult work too, 'cause erasing wasn't an option and gold-lettering was. And society only functions based on words and information after all." Okay, there was the Ravenclaw in them. They hoped Amara didn't mind.

"But a poet, huh? Then this epic should turn out pretty great, no?" they flashed a grin, "Can I ask about the plot, or is that a touchy subject?"

Well, Mars never was one to avoid touchy questions.