The Owls Keep a Watchful Eye
March 6, 2022.
Soon to meet up with @Everly Charlton
The Owlery wasn't just a drafty space filled with owls and a workspace to write letters - it had turned into what seemed like a place of desperation for Simon Kincaid. Having only been up there seldomly his first year, he had now found himself visiting the Owlery daily with false hopes.
As of today, March 6th, it had been 57 days since he sent his letter to his father. He wasn't sure where the town was in which it was sent to but it was located in England which in itself bordered Scotland. He also knew that the owls delivered letters faster than Royal Mail so where was it? Where was his response?
Would he get one?
There was a small pebble near the entrance way and he kicked it in frustration, causing it to begin it's tumble down the stone staircase that led up to the tower. How foolish he was to think that some vampire somewhere would enter such a crazy situation as to finding out one had a son after 13 years? How naive he was to think that he could have some sort of connection with a parent.
He was angry with himself and he wanted to scream but that would only disturb the owls and their slumber and he wouldn't be cruel like that. Simon looked around, seeing a large bag gathered up against the wall across the way. He walked over there to investigate it as some of the owls kept a watchful eye on him.
Be kind to one another. (*iNPC is Miles Thatcher)
The Owls Keep a Watchful Eye
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Letter in her left hand, stationery in the other, Everly ran up the steps leading to the Owlrey hurriedly. She was a few days late to sending her weekly owl to her parents, and she'd quite literally just finished writing it, ink yet to dry and all. She was waving it briskly through the air as she ran, praying this somehow made the ink decide to dry in an instant, though she knew she'd probably spend the rest of her day sitting in the Owlrey watching the ink like a hawk for the moment she could fold it and send it on its way. Everly'd done this before, often—she liked to test them, or lightly/aggressively rub over a small part of the letter to figure out if it had dried yet or not, which usually ended in a collection of ink smudges all over her letter, with the returning letter expressing concern for what in the world had caused it to look so deranged.
Today, she was trying her new tactic, waving the paper around lightly/aggressively. It fluttered through the air as she flapped it beside her, skipping every other step, humming a cheerful tune underneath her breath. She felt especially lighthearted today, for some reason, as she neared the top of the stairs. Just as she did, a rock came tumbling down. Taken by surprise, Everly stumbled, catching herself with the railing.
Mood ruined, she arrived at the top of the stairs, ready to confront whoever thought that tossing rocks down the stairs was a fun waste of their time. The sight she was greeted with was not, in fact, someone lounging with several rocks carelessly thrown around them, but instead a rather angry Simon Kincaid. She didn't know Simon that well, though she'd seen and heard of him around the school before—he had quite the posse. They'd never exclusively interacted before, however, and now was as good as any.
"You alright?" she'd ask, voice slightly raised over the other sounds in the room. Her eyes caught onto the bag he was standing next to. "What's that?"
Today, she was trying her new tactic, waving the paper around lightly/aggressively. It fluttered through the air as she flapped it beside her, skipping every other step, humming a cheerful tune underneath her breath. She felt especially lighthearted today, for some reason, as she neared the top of the stairs. Just as she did, a rock came tumbling down. Taken by surprise, Everly stumbled, catching herself with the railing.
Mood ruined, she arrived at the top of the stairs, ready to confront whoever thought that tossing rocks down the stairs was a fun waste of their time. The sight she was greeted with was not, in fact, someone lounging with several rocks carelessly thrown around them, but instead a rather angry Simon Kincaid. She didn't know Simon that well, though she'd seen and heard of him around the school before—he had quite the posse. They'd never exclusively interacted before, however, and now was as good as any.
"You alright?" she'd ask, voice slightly raised over the other sounds in the room. Her eyes caught onto the bag he was standing next to. "What's that?"
@simon kincaid====
352 | 03/06/22==
352 | 03/06/22==
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i’m gonna pop
your bubblegum heart
your bubblegum heart
The Owls Keep a Watchful Eye
Frustrated, but not with @Everly Charlton
By the time she had come up, he had the bag opened and had already begun riffling through it. It looked like mail that needed to be sorted out for the professors, some were magazine subscriptions and some probably letters from concerned or upset parents. Simon huffed. Parents. Stupid, stupid, parents. Stupid magazines. Although, he did pause a moment to look at one but then stuffed it into the bag as he heard someone approaching.
He turned around to see Everly Charlton. She was a Gryffindor and in his same year and so while the two had never really conversed before, he still knew the name to the face. If he recalled correctly, she was also on the dueling team. "A bag of letters. For others." Not for him. Of course not. To think that his father would write back was ridiculous. No, to think the letter that he had written would actually reach said father was ridiculous. To think if it did and his father would take the time to write back - that was almost improbable.
"Of course for others," he muttered but snapped out of it. This wasn't Everly's fault by any means and he didn't need to be short with her. Simon took in a slow breath and glanced down, bringing a hand quickly through his hair the way he did when he was somewhat nervous.
"Sorry, I've just been trying to locate a certain letter for awhile now and am in denial that said certain letter will never be found because said letter doesn't exist." One of the owls above them ruffled its feathers as it adjusted itself in midsleep and a feather fell down and Simon stepped just once to the side to avoid it falling on him. "What brings you up to the Owlery?"
Most letters got sent at breakfast time when the owls made their Owl Post. He was pretty sure that some students at Hogwarts would spend their entire seven years there and never even venture up to the Owlery.
Be kind to one another. (*iNPC is Miles Thatcher)