31 Jul 2023, 00:16
The Early Raven
6:30 am - corridors
Draven's clothes smelled like tobacco. The scent had lingered in his hair and against his skin, following everywhere. No matter how hard he scrubbed at his face, or how mercilessly he rubbed the bar of soap through his laughing-stock of a buzz cut, it stayed. It had been there on the train, and in the Merlin dorms, filling his lungs and making him gag. The bathroom had been his last hope for washing it off.
Really, a shower would have helped. He ached to take one. But that would have required him to pull the hoodie over his head. Then his shirt. Then he'd have to shimmy out of his pants, step out of his shoes and socks. The process itself was...thinking about the process-
Draven swallowed hard.
He'd brushed his teeth as best he could without a toothbrush, and he'd rubbed soap against his armpits, and that would have to do. If anyone had a problem, they could keep it to themselves.
The boy walked quietly towards the kitchens. They weren't far away from the Slytherin Dorms, nor from the bathrooms. But he'd taken a detour, winding around the castle for the sheer pleasure of it. There was something cathartic about having...this much space. Open air around him, away from the push and pull of bodies, sleepy rambles and noise. It was only him, himself, and the hallow sound of his footsteps against old stone floors. Some of the armor stands he passed by were covered in a thick layer of dust. Places where students could reach had rusted away, eaten at by the oil off their hands and whatever else had been stuck to their fingers.
Draven gagged a little at the thought. His own hand had been following the stone walls, turning black from fallen ash. Dizziness and nausea made walking a challenge, but it would only get better if he pressed on. And he intended to press on while silence and sunlight reigned.
Because sunlight did reign. It had flooded the castle, playful rays drowning the old stone corridors in pale light, dancing along the floors and disturbing the sleeping patrons of portraits. Draven looked like a stain against the beautiful picture, an imperfection. Filthy and out of place. But there was no one to point that out then.
No one but the kid he came face to face with while rounding a corner.
Draven winced, moving aside to let the other boy pass. 'Sorry', he wanted to say. He didn't though. To make noise would have been to ruin the silence, and summon forth a wave of noise. He wasn't prepared to deal with that just yet.
@August Turner
Last edited by Draven Mirador on 5 Dec 2023, 16:42, edited 1 time in total.
ITS STILL RAINING. WHY IS IT STILL RAINING? sta • 13 | eva • 8 | str • 1 | wis • 15 |arc • 7 | acc • 9 |
2 Aug 2023, 14:47
The Early Raven
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August couldn't sleep. For the few days he had been at this school, he had suffered through restless nights thanks to his restless thoughts. It was agony every waking second, the only relief found in sleep, but of course he could get none of that.
When he had been sorted into Ravenclaw, he immediately wrote to his father, thinking he would be proud that his son would continue the Turner's line of Ravenclaw and Slytherin students. God forbid he had even the slightest chance of the idiotic houses of Gryffindor and Hufflepuff. His father had written back almost immediately to show his displeasure. August’s paternal side of the family had mainly been comprised of Slytherins and his maternal side Ravenclaws. Clearly his father had been hoping August would be sorted into Slytherin like him.
He hated to upset his father, but this was one mistake he could not fix. It wasn’t like he could wave his wand and become a Slytherin, and he highly doubted Headmaster Lear would allow him to switch houses should he request it.
There was absolutely nothing he could do. The one thing August hated more than disappointing his father was not being in control.
That was why he was wandering the corridors at precisely 6:30 in the morning. He needed to clear his head, and he could do that by just laying around in his bed. It was so hard for the boy to not try and do everything possible to make up for the disappointment he had been, but it was hopeless. He sighed heavily. This might just be a mistake he had to let go and make the best of. After all, August himself enjoyed his house. It was his life, not his father’s. His father would just have to learn to accept a Ravenclaw kid.
Rounding the corner with a slight bit of renewed optimism, he came upon another boy, maybe one or two years above him. The boy looked…tired. Exhausted, overcome with fatigue worse than August. Though he wasn’t quite in a talking mood, August decided the boy looked like he might need to talk with someone. He looked lost, and not in the twisted corridors of Hogwarts.
”Hello. What are you doing out of your dorms so early?” he asked. If the boy truly didn’t want company he could choose to leave, but if August was right and he needed to talk, he could stick around.
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SPECIES: HUMAN | ABILITIES: CHARMER
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STA • 9 | EVA • 7 | STR • 1 | WIS • 6 | ARC • 4 | ACC • 8
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| sta • 9 | eva • 7 | str • 1 STAR⠀CREATIONS wis • 6 | arc • 4 | acc • 8 | charmer | ability | ability THROUGH⠀THE⠀YEARS ability | ability | ability |
6 Aug 2023, 19:28
The Early Raven
6:33 am - corridors
The other boy took him in, his eyes skipping over Draven's face, to his hoodie, to his raggedy jeans. Draven's throat dried. He was a first year, young and olive skinned, with almond shaped eyes and curly dark hair. It suited him, falling over his forehead in playful curls. He was shorter, too, coming up to Draven's shoulder.
Draven automatically took a step back, clutching the straps of his bag. "Sorry," he slurred, his voice heady with exhaustion. His fingers came up, pushing his mask up. Concealing his acne-riddled face and the horrible cut still healing across his cheek.
He stepped to the side, allowing the boy to pass by. If they got in a fight, Draven would lose. Simple as. And if he'd been about to keel over then, he didn't want to imagine what it would feel like for the boy to slam him in one of the armor stands nearby. His eyes flickered to the towering metal men, cringing under his mask at the thought of his back hitting their shiny kneecaps. It wasn't like he had anything of interest with him. A bent metal fork, his clothes, a small bottle of hand sanitizer. Deodorant. All the essentials, but at the same time, all essentials that cost under a sickle.
Draven's Adam's apple bobbed under his mask as he waited for the boy to pass. But he wouldn't. He was standing in place, staring at Draven's disheveled form.
"I'm-," his voice cracked embarrassingly, raw and much too high for a boy his age. He cleared his throat, and then cleared it again. What was he doing? Why was he there? His eyes searched the floor for an answer, but there was nothing written in stone that could help him. "I-..."
The pause had been much too long, he was aware of that distantly. "Are you a prefect?" A lame answer. Perhaps it would get him in much more trouble than it was worth, but it wasn't an admission of guilt. And that was the best his brain could come up with. A memory tugged at him, slow and tentative. A woman with bright pink nailpolish and and blond hair wedging herself in the door of Rory's flat. "Are you a cop?" Rory had asked between giggles, her eyes cloudy from illness. "No," the woman had said.
Their voices faded, and Draven was left once again staring at his newfound companion.
@August Turner
ITS STILL RAINING. WHY IS IT STILL RAINING? sta • 13 | eva • 8 | str • 1 | wis • 15 |arc • 7 | acc • 9 |
30 Aug 2023, 01:24
The Early Raven
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The boy stepped backwards, away from August and muttered an apology. He stepped to one side after a moment, making room for August to continue down the corridor, which would most likely mean August would not come into contact with the boy again. However, he did not move. At first, he had stopped because of the expression the boy carried, but now he stayed because of his own curiosity. Call it his personality flaw, his curiosity always seemed to get the better of him. The boy's eyes were darting back and forth, and did he look worried almost?
The boy stumbled over his words, looking for an unnecessary explanation. Finally, he seemed to settle on asking whether August was a prefect. It was pretty early to be out of the dorms, but to each their own. He couldn't care less that there were others who felt the need to break rules to wander at this hour. August had his own reasons for being out so early, but he wasn't about to share them with the boy.
"No," he began. "I'm no prefect, but thank you for assuming I was. I only wish I could make prefect in my first year at Hogwarts." He paused, searching for the right words. "I was only curious as to what you were doing out so early. I hadn't expected to share the corridors with anyone else besides perhaps a prefect on patrol perhaps." Though, that wasn't something he wanted. Getting into any kind of trouble was the last thing he desired so early into the school year.
His thoughts focused back on the boy standing in the corridors with him. His full and undivided attention was given to him, waiting for the answer the boy would give him. The torches flickered across the walls, throwing eerie shadows of the suits of armor back and forth on the stone walls. As the boy thought of his answer, August watched the shadows dance, listening closely for footsteps. The talk of prefects had given him a new awareness to the possibility of running into one.
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SPECIES: HUMAN | ABILITIES: CHARMER
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STA • 9 | EVA • 7 | STR • 1 | WIS • 6 | ARC • 4 | ACC • 8
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| sta • 9 | eva • 7 | str • 1 STAR⠀CREATIONS wis • 6 | arc • 4 | acc • 8 | charmer | ability | ability THROUGH⠀THE⠀YEARS ability | ability | ability |
14 Nov 2023, 23:57
The Early Raven
"Needed a walk," Draven croaked, swallowing past the knot in his throat. Not a prefect. He wasn't sure why the thought made him even more jittery. But they were in an abandoned corner of the castle, with a large winding staircase at one end, and metal adorning the walls around them.
Deimos peaked curiously from underneath his hoodie. The spider had been large when he bought it, the size of his fist as a baby. Now, its long limbs could spread out comfortably over someone's face. And they did. Quite often, at that. It was an annoying habit that Deimos had gotten into, and Draven couldn't be bothered to chastise him for it. Now, the slender insect crawled out from the safety of Draven's hood, perching on his shoulder.
Eight identical eyes stared down at the boy, a soft chittering coming from Deimos. Draven cracked a half smile, side-eyeing his familiar. "Stop scaring first years," he told the insect, licking his dry lips. They were split from a night spent pulling at the loose bits, raw patches of raw, bloody skin still visible in the morning light. The dirt underneath his fingernails was tinged red.
He couldn't quite remember the first time he'd spoken with a stranger he technically didn't need to speak to. Moving to motion the boy away, and remembering very suddenly he was about half a foot taller than him, Draven's eyes flickered towards the staircase behind his newfound companion.
A shadow, a very loud shadow in well-made boots, was slowly creaking up the stairs. One moment passed. Two.
Draven's wide eyes met the boy's.
ITS STILL RAINING. WHY IS IT STILL RAINING? sta • 13 | eva • 8 | str • 1 | wis • 15 |arc • 7 | acc • 9 |