Ragged Things PV November Morsus Closed

"Oh! That's a clever idea," November said, beaming, the expression radiant on his normally morose face, transforming it utterly. "I think perhaps it would also be fun to play truth or dare, though. So maybe we could do both, or, one after the other." he smiled. He liked Green's ideas, and wanted the other boy to know it. He admired the chocolate skeleton delightedly; he loved bones, and the thought that there were candies shaped like them in the world, well, that just warmed his black little heart.


"Oh, that does look rather tasty," November purred, looking at the tiny purple bean. "It could be grape, yes, but perhaps it's also an aubergine. I like aubergine well enough, especially roasted in the oven. Do you?"

The request for the knife made him pale for a moment, get very nervous, before suddenly brushing it off with a chuckle. "Oh, I have a, um, small paring knife, that I use for slicing, fruit..." Yes. Fruit. That was totally believable. Drawing it from his pocket, he unfolded it, carefully held it over the bean. "So, um, yes, I think I'll bet aubergine... Let's see...." One swift, far-too-practiced slice, and the bean flopped in two.

"Yes, I like that idea; winner gets to choose who goes first, shall we say?" Green suggested, looking the bean over carefully. He sighed, sat up, and met November's eyes with a smirk. Not so shrinking now, was he? Green thought he liked this side of the boy.

"Don't be embarrassed of keeping a knife; it's a fine thing to have," Green said as he watched November slice, taking his half and turning it over in his fingers curiously. "Good for utility and protection. And anyone who doesn't want you to be able to defend yourself isn't really your friend, are they? Are they, November?" he asked slowly, enunciating each word as he leaned closer, closer. There were undertones there, unspoken whispers. And I am your friend, aren't I, November? We two will be friends? Knives or no?

Green blinked and the look vanished as he licked his lips, popped his half of the bean in, and chewed. Immediately, his face scrunched up. "Glurf! What is this? Sweet yes, but pungent, sort of... earthy? Roots?" he screwed his eyes up at the ceiling. "Oh. Goodness. Hydrangea root, I suspect. Well, god, that is specific," he murmured, shaking his head. "What does that even count as, pleasant or unpleasant?

"Yes, I think that sounds lovely...." November grinned, his legs swinging back and forth on the seat, his slender body far more relaxed now than it had been before.

"You, really think so?" he blushed a bit, clutched the knife tighter in his hands. "I-... Most people always say that children aren't to have knives, that it's not proper, or safe..." He pulled it closer to him again, folding it and gripping it tight, protective. "But I rather like them, like you said, it's, better to have than to not...." His cheeks were just getting pinker and pinker the longer Green looked at him that way...

He shook it off just as Green did, his attention turned by the other back to the bean. He lifted it and very delicately flicked his tongue against it. "Oh! It is hydrangea root!" His face lit up like nothing before. "I know this one, it's good for getting rid of kidney stones! Although... As for the taste... I suppose I think it's rather pleasant, but, really, it's up to personal taste, isn't it?" He scratched his head, wondering how easy this game would be with something as subjective as flavours. "It's not aubergine, though, so I suppose you win this round."

"Naturally," Green breathed, nodding towards the knife. "They want us to be weak. No - need us to be. Otherwise, they wouldn't be able to control us, would they?" Green raised an eyebrow, tilting his head. "Even if it's to protect us, they won't recognize that we can learn to wield power with just as much skill as they. And then when we really do need them, when our own power won't suffice, they're not there. So what are we to believe, hmm?" he huffed. "It's the same with the trace. If they could, they'd have it on us our whole lives. 17 years is just all they can track..."

Green's eyebrows went up. "Kidney stones, really? It seems you know your herbs. Useful fellow, aren't you?" he gave him a crooked smile. "I should keep you around. And maybe a more fitting game would be, conventional or unconventional? With fruit flavors and dessert foods being conventional, and everything else being unconventional, like aubergine. Which hydrangea root is, really, so you'd win the round," he gestured, taking out another bean. This one was mottled blue with an almost whitish glaze that looked vaguely velvety.

Green peered at the new bean, analyzing. "I'm going to bet, conventional," he hummed. "Oh, and you get to pick a bone, and decide if you'd like me to go first... if you do, I'll take truth," he nodded at him.

November's eyes went wide as Green spoke, his body stilling as he took in the words. He was right, there was simply no getting around it. It seemed everything adults did in his life was both to punish him for enjoying himself, and to make sure he had no agency of his own in order to pursue anything like that happiness he craved. And here was Green laying it out so plainly for him, so it was clear, he wasn't the only one.

After that, it was all too easy to see. They were just trying to control him, really. And November was not easy to control.

His pensive expression vanished in an instant, however, at Green's awed compliments. "Oh, no, it's nothing special, really," he insisted, blushing brightly, "I just like to read about them in my spare time, and I'd often help the other children with their ailments..." he shrank then, like a violet.

"I think that's a good way of judging flavours," November said, "though I suppose there are a lot more unconventional ones than conventional..." A soft chuckle. "Maybe we could also go by, if it's a common food item, or something that's not food at all...." He took a bone with delicate fingers, a tiny chocolate clavicle. He thought that might be his favourite bone in the human body; it looked so pretty under the skin. "Oh, yes, um, truth or-... Well, you've already decided then, haven't you? I guess this means I've got to pick a question..." he stroked his chin a bit, before his eyes lit up with his question.

"Do you have a knife?"

"Quite impressive again," purred Green, looking November up and down. "Where ever you came from, you made sure to be useful there, didn't you? I wonder if you're any good with stomach ailments," he murmured, suddenly smaller somehow, his gaze uncertain; but he quickly blinked it away, rolling a shoulder and tossing shoulder-length curls back.

"In any case, that's a good question with a sad answer: No, I don't have one on me," he sighed. "My father informed me that we would be issued knives for cutting potions ingredients during the lessons themselves, but otherwise, they are frowned upon. And father would do anything not to be frowned upon," he rolled his eyes, sighing and shaking his head. "Honestly, they're only lips, they're not going to kill you. I suppose it has been bad for business, though," he sighed, tracing morose shapes on the table with a fingertip.

"But in any case, I think that's a fine idea," he nodded at November, humming. "After all, nearly any flavor that's meant to be eaten goes with sweet. I mean, I don't prefer the saltier flavors with it," he admitted with a shrug, "But at least chicken is better than, say, frog skin. Though again, that is something of an assumption," he murmured, tilting his head. "In any case, you chose unconventional last time, so I'll take that this time, I suppose."

"I just, you know... I liked it. It was, fun." November spoke softly, blushing a little, as if he expected mockery for his choice in hobbies. He didn't even notice Green's own discomfort, waiting for the blowback the way he was. "I mean, I rather had to make myself useful there, seeing as there weren't really very many adults around to do things for us..." He sighed.

"Oh-..." A rather sympathetic look crossed his face at that. "Well, should you need one, you could perhaps borrow mine, if you'd like." He had plenty more where that came from. Plenty. "I mean, I shouldn't like it if you were caught without a knife when you needed to," a billion dreadful images flashed before his eyes, "...Slice jelly beans."

"But in any case, yes..." He pulled a tiny white bean out of the bag, turned it in his fingers. "I think perhaps this one is... Marshmallow," he said, peering at it, "I do hope I'm right. I rather like marshmallows...." Placing it on the table, he nipped it neatly in two with his knife. "Any guesses on your end? I mean, you chose unconventional, and there's lots of white things in the world that aren't food..."

"Really?" Green leaned forward, interested. "You found it fun? So if you had the opportunity to do it again, that's something you would enjoy, you're saying?" he asked, head tilting, studying the blush, the justification. "That if, say, I got a scraped knee, or caught a cold, I might, mm. Ask your advice, come to you for a bandage or something of that sort?" his fingers twisted, gaze unblinking.

Green grinned at that, 'slice jellybeans.' "Lets hope the majority of the jellybeans behave themselves, mm?" he chuckled, reaching out to take his half, turn it over in his fingertips. "Awfully kind of you, though. I may take you up on it. You never know when you'll need something of that sort. Do you have many, or would I be depriving you?" he hummed, looking November over. Honestly, the boy himself was more interesting than the beans. But that was why he had spent a galleon on him. A galleon was a good price for a friend, particularly a useful one.

His eyelids sank for a moment, contemplating. Mind, that galleon didn't ensure anything. Would the boy really be there for him, if he needed something that wasn't convenient or amusing? Would he end up giving a damn?

Green's gaze fell to the bean. "I'm going to guess it's something like cream of mushroom soup," he suggested. "Or bones."

"I, um, yeeees?" November shrank a little bit, nervous at the sudden, hawklike way Green had latched onto his words. "Why, why do you ask?" Was he going to make fun of him? Get him in trouble? He thought, maybe, that Green was past that, that he wasn't like that, like the others. His continued line of questioning brought a bright flush to November's cheeks, and he raised a hand to his lips, gently chewed on his knuckles.

"I, um, I have got, enough knives," he mumbled, though that was a bit of a misnomer. There were never enough knives. Certainly enough to lend one, though, especially to a boy who'd been as good to him as Green had been. he still couldn't quite conceive of the fact that he had just spent a whole galleon. On him.

"Well, here goes," November said, picking up the bean and peering at it again one more time before dropping it on his tongue. He chewed, contemplative, for a moment, before his long face slowly fell into a look of faintly pained betrayal. "...Laundry soap," he said at last. "I suppose that means you win this round, for it's not a conventional flavour, or even a food at all..."

Green blushed, looked away. "Well," he admitted. "I've got a bit of a... sensitive, digestive system," he admitted. "And I'm often getting sick. Frankly, I could use the help," he said gently, still flushed, looking down. He swallowed, eyes flickering to November. "I also don't like to bring my business to school authorities, so you'd be the natural choice. Is that something you might be interested in helping with?" His fingers tapped nervously as he waited for November's answer.

"Quite kind of you to lend me," Green brightened, popping his half of the bean and chewing. "Not everyone would lend something so important as a... mmnn... hmm," his brow furrowed as he chewed, "Yes, I think it is soap. That is... strange. Still, not entirely unpleasant," he granted, tilted his head towards the package as if in deference to its wisdom. "That's the thing about Bertie Bott's, you learn the strangest things about unconventional flavors... but in any case, yes, it is my win, isn't it?" he preened, fingers wriggling over the little chocolate bones. "I think I'll take the mandible. That's something I love about Chocolate Skeletons, they give you a separate mandible when so many others make the skull one piece," he purred, turning it over in his hands admiringly. "You can even see the little teeth. But in any case, truth or dare?" he dared, grinning at November. From the package, he pulled another bean, this one bright purple and green in iridescent shades.